So yeah, sorry about that no-post Sunday. But as I predicted, this new subbing gig took priority and thus time from my weekend.
OK, as I’ve mentioned before here in the blog and in the podcast, there’s going to be some major interruptions to blog entries for the next two months or so.
“Why?” You ask?
OK, no important topic today.
So, as we kick off The Tempest, it’s ‘memory lane’ time…
Excuse me while I wax nostalgic.
OK, by now, many of you have probably heard of the kerfuffle taking place on the campus of USC, University of Southern Cal, regarding their new Shakespeare monument. Seems the statue spells Shakespeare without the final E.
My Bruin brethren have been having a field day with this. But is it right?
Here’s my take…
Yeah, yeah, I know… this is supposed to be a Shakespeare blog. And no, I’m not going to go deep-end and say Lin-Manuel Miranda is the new Shakespeare, as some are wont to do (let’s wait a decade or three and see what the complete body of work looks like, ok?). But I am going to say a few words about Hamilton, which I caught on Saturday with the family…
OK, this may be a short one (at least initially): it’s post midnight, so technically it’s now Wednesday, but I’m still in Tuesday’s wake-cycle. I’m going to try to get some stuff keyed in before: 1) I fall asleep; 2) I forget stuff.
Wow. What a day (so far–I write this Monday during a not-so-quiet respite at a wood-fired pizza place).
Here I am in Cedar City, Utah, for the Utah Shakespeare Festival’s Wooden O Symposium at Southern Utah University (enough Utahs in there for you?). Check out the promotional poster in my hotel’s window:
Well, here we are, in Ashland, Oregon, for our yearly sojourn to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival!
It’s July and a Friday, which means a new summer blockbuster is being released: War for the Planet of the Apes, which I am kinda excited by. Anyway, there are bigger fish to fry…like this week’s debut of the TNT series, Will.
A new month, another play: The Winter’s Tale.
This is our penultimate play (though, realistically speaking, it’s not… when this is all said and [not] done, I’m going to hit up some of the “other” works…but not until I’ve done the poetry).
Today, a break from Cymbeline…
As many of you know, I’ve gone back to school (part-time) to get my Masters; I’m kicking off my seventh course, now, “Renaissance and Restoration Literature.” A couple of month ago, I posted my “Literary Criticism” paper where I discussed Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, through Marxist and Deconstructionist theories. Late last year, I took a course on the Romantics, and I wrote a paper on the concept of the Byronic Hero, as seen in the mythical figure of Prometheus; the “Modern Prometheus” of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; and a kind of “postmodern Frankenstein” in Battlestar Galactica‘s Gaius Baltar.
By now, I’m sure just about all of you have heard of the
covfefe, I mean, kerfuffle over the latest production by the Public Theater for NYC’s Shakespeare in the Park.
A Julius Caesar with a Caesar who bears a striking–and Calpurnia’s crotch-grabbing–resemblance to the 45th President.
I was asked by a friend yesterday what I thought.
So here goes…
OK, so…I had this solid discussion of bawdy in Cymbeline cued up for today. But then–sometimes–the world intervenes.
Adam West died.