April 25, 2004

You know how, when you say things like, "I will never read another Buffy spoiler again!" or "I will never eat an MSG-licious student center Whopper again!" or "I will never take a Monday night class again!" what you really mean is "I will take another Monday night class at the first convenient opportunity!" You see, this semester, I'm taking a Monday night class - Shakespeare. This is just shortly after I vowed to never take a Monday night class again, after having survived (barely) the tedium of Daniel/Revelation ("Making Controversy Boring!"). But this time, I thought to myself, "You know, how could Shakespeare be as boring as the book of Revelation?" Well, I found out.

Don't take this class. 50% of this class is watching movies made by British actors whose acting method seems to consist of "I think this scene could really use some more Muppet-like flailing of limbs." The rest of the class consists of not writing papers, not analyzing the text, and not discussing interpretations. It consists of. well, I don't know what it consists of, really. I spend most of time reading other things. I'll occasionally look up to see if I'm missing anything, hear "You know, this scene right here really moves me," find out the answer, and then go back to my book. The professor is a very nice guy, and seems to know his stuff more or less, but he's on the touchy-feely side, and I prefer the structured-machine-gun-lecture-fire-breathing style of my history professor. He occasionally says things like, "Now I'm just really impressed by the depth of what Hamlet is expressing in this soliloquy," and what he is expressing, of course, (watch out, this might be too deep for some of you) is that he is very sad.

But on the whole, I'm glad I'm taking the class. You see, before this class, in terms of Shakespeare knowledge I was (in the inimitable words of the Cracker Barrel Peg Game) an ig-no-ra-moose . Now, having the taken class, I have moved up a tier. I am just plain dumb. But it's not really the class's fault. It's just that I've now actually read some Shakespeare plays that I haven't read before, particularly the great tragedies. This is good, because people are always expecting you to know Hamlet and Othello and King Lear. And now, I know them. Well, I know the plots at any rate, and that's what matters. All that junk about analyzing themes is just a worthless academic exercise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to trying to prove Fermat's last theorem.

But before I go, I just thought I'd leave you with a little something. You see, after devouring Othello one Sunday afternoon, I came to the realization that I was thinking in blank verse. This was very odd, and I had to practice a few sentences to get out of it to avoid embarrassing myself. I even asked my classmates that Monday, "Do you ever think in iambic pentameter after reading Shakespeare?" They looked at each other. "No," they said. "Me neither," I said. But I did. And this is the kind of thing that often results.

[ Dramatis Personae

ANTONIUS , a Harding student
SEBASTIAN, a Harding student

SCENE: Front Lawn ]

1.1

Enter students [ Antonius and Sebastian].

ANTONIUS Miss Chambers, of her beauty thou hast spake.
Nay, speak, sirrah, unto her intellect.
For where one seemly visage finds, too oft'
Unseemly verbiage conceals. If ' twere
Meet to o'er her mouth betape then such
Considerations might one cast aside
With justice, but here social bonds permit
Not. Pray thee, speak! Are so fearsome her words?

SEBASTIAN Aye, fearsome, in quantity alike to
Her winsomeness. When opens her mouth
And speaks, Miss Chambers' pot is uncovered.

ANTONIUS Her pot?

SEBASTIAN Aye, and preferred empty.

ANTONIUS Loathsome indeed the contents when 'tis filled.

SEBASTIAN Fret not, friend. It is of no consequence.
Miss Chambers is, at last I heard, occupied.

ANTONIUS But of the fair Miss Jacobs, what say'st thou?
For complexion she may not be faulted,
Nor for want of powers of reasoning.
So speak ye, friend, then, unto her spirit.

SEBASTIAN I surmise it is a lonely spirit.

ANTONIUS How now?

SEBASTIAN I have, many times, observed her
Pursuit of other spirits to befriend it.

ANTONIUS Thy meaning I apprehend not. Meanst thou
That she of dreary solitude whines?

SEBASTIAN Wines, yes! And ales!

ANTONIUS Ails? Wherefore say'st thou
Ails? Of some dreadful malfeasance of soul
Or of physic doth she ail? Go to, sir!

SEBASTIAN I fear she suffers from drowning.

ANTONIUS Drowning?
Fie upon thee and thine entire household!
Now let us speak of fair Miss Anderson.
Of humble virtue hath she no equal.

SEBASTIAN Nor inferior.

ANTONIUS I shall rend thee in twain!
Of mind she is of talent capable,
And a like face hath ne'er been conceived by
All the frescoers of ancient Italy.

SEBASTIAN Yet below the face there is little of
Which to speak. So little, that were I to
Draw her into embrace I fear she would
Betwixt my tightly enclosed fingers slip.
Her face hath not conceivèd been within
A Titian's mind, but her figure, indeed,
Hath been produced by toddling scribblers who
But render man's proportions in
Two dimensions. O for cheesecake! O meat!
But what pleasures can I derive from steak
When seen across the table she doth peck
At curlèd greens like preening water fowl,
And sipping dainty water sips as if
She would, when having exited, have left
Not one mark on the seat in which she sat!
I fear her figure might behind a pole
Escape my sight! O saturated fat!

ANTONIUS How unkind and unjust you speak, my friend!
I'll wager you'll have no girl in the end!

SEBASTIAN I say if Harding yields no worthy catch
' Tis better for the man to live a bach.

ANTONIUS Or we could just stop talking like goobers.

SEBASTIAN That, too.

[ Exeunt omnes. ]

(This will probably be the last C-File for a few weeks. It's getting to be that time of year when exams and projects pile up. See you in May!)