Today I discovered that it is entirely possible to nerd out so thoroughly that an entire class of theatre majors falls into a stunned silence for several moments, including the professor. I never thought that could happen, and I would have never guessed something I said would be to blame.
I just got out of my Shakespeare Lit. class, during which we had been discussing Henry V, Henry VI (1, 2, and 3), and Richard III. We had been talking merrily about Richard for twenty minutes and the class was winding down even though we still had ten minutes left. Unsuspectingly, Christrine asked if anyone else had something they absolutely needed to say. There was a silence, a shifting in seats as members of the class tried to avoid notice. And then I rose my hand. Expecting at least some sort of random blathering, Christine called on me, and that was when I hit them with it.
While looking at Richard III I had noticed that he had a very particular way of speaking, that he used certain sounds and structures to the way he spoke. And then I began to remember the way that other villains in Shakespeare spoke, the sounds they used. That little seed of thought blossomed when I started thinking about next semester's production of Macbeth, and it hit: Shakespeare tells you absolutely everything you need to know in the text. By the words people use you can determine whether they are good or evil, and certain speeches will use sounds and structures that purposely make you feel uneasy with a particular character. It's genius, really, the way he does it. The sinuous words they use are absolutely glorious!
Shakespeare really is my hero, and it makes me want to get a doctorate in Shakespeare even more. Ah, the love my heart holds for him can not be contained in words alone!
Anyway, after my little ramble, the class stared at me for a number of moments. Then Christine, giving me a look of mild amusement and awe, told me that I needed to get Shakespeare After All by Marjorie Garber. Luckily, my roommate has it so I can see if I like it half as much as I hope to. If I do, I am just going to have to add it to my list of books I need to get.
Well, here's hoping everything is as wonderful as I'd like!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
In the Eye of the Beholder
Many of us get very excited around Christmas--or so I've noticed. People get that sparkle in their eye, and they anticipate that early morning of opening presents and watching the gifts they've given be received. It's quite magical, all things considered, that so many people are simultaneously happy.
This Christmas, I was as happy as everyone else. At the movie theatre, I would wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and I couldn't seem to stop smiling. I was more excited to see my parents' reactions to their gifts than anything--I thought I had gotten both of them good gifts. I didn't even really think about what I was getting, except maybe shooting a longing glance in the direction of the Doris Day dvd collection.
Christmas Eve came, though, and Mom insisted everyone come upstairs. As was traditional, we read the Christmas story and my brother and I got CTR rings. I was surprised at that, I haven't had a CTR ring since I was about eight years old. The last one, you see, had to be cut off my finger when it got smashed on. I couldn't seem to keep another one after that, in the few times I tried. Thinking that was all, I prepared myself to go wander back downstairs and continuing writing on a side project I've been working on. But Mom reminded me that we still had one tradition left: opening a gift from the extended family.
Since Phillip got to pick out which gift I opened, I was a bit worried. I thought he'd go for something peculiar, but it didn't work that way. Instead, he pulled out a decently sized package that was from my grandmother. When it clunked, I was terrified that it had somehow gotten broken. Hesitantly, I pulled the wrapping paper off the box, and I stared at it in confusion for a moment. Inside was a rather beaten, dusty box that looked as if it had been around for a number of decades more than I had. Confused, I slowly opened it, and I stared at what was inside.
Silverware. But, more than that, beautiful silverware. Looking in the box, I found a sheet of paper that declared it was Tudor Plated Silverware as made by the Oneida Community Silversmiths, and the paper was so old I was afraid it would fall apart in my hands. The set wasn't complete, but every piece was so beautiful and fit so wonderfully in my hands that I couldn't help but marvel at it. "It's so beautiful!" I told my Dad.
And then he told me the most stunning thing of all. "That silverware was your great grandmother's. I've known for some time you were going to inherit it."
I stared at the fork in my hand with renewed awe. It was my great grandmother's? She died nearly ten years ago, you see, and I was devastated when she passed away. My childhood is full of memories of running around in her garden and eating pecan sandies with her. We would spend a lot of time tending to the irises, and she loved to just talk with me even though I was just a tiny kid. I loved her with all of my heart, and suddenly I was holding something that had belonged to her for fifty years. I nearly cried I was so touched and so happy. The next hour was spent looking up the pattern and how much it would take to make the set complete. Suffice it to say, the pieces I am missing are on their way now. Dad was willing to go halfs with me on a set that had what I needed, so Grandma Bone's silverware won't be lonely anymore.
I can't wait until the day when I get to use her beautiful silverware with great grandchildren of my own. The set, I hope, is something that will be passed down through the family for many years to come. I could not have received a more beautiful gift.
Pretty, isn't it?
By way of information, the pattern is called "Fantasy" and was made from 1941-1959.
This Christmas, I was as happy as everyone else. At the movie theatre, I would wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and I couldn't seem to stop smiling. I was more excited to see my parents' reactions to their gifts than anything--I thought I had gotten both of them good gifts. I didn't even really think about what I was getting, except maybe shooting a longing glance in the direction of the Doris Day dvd collection.
Christmas Eve came, though, and Mom insisted everyone come upstairs. As was traditional, we read the Christmas story and my brother and I got CTR rings. I was surprised at that, I haven't had a CTR ring since I was about eight years old. The last one, you see, had to be cut off my finger when it got smashed on. I couldn't seem to keep another one after that, in the few times I tried. Thinking that was all, I prepared myself to go wander back downstairs and continuing writing on a side project I've been working on. But Mom reminded me that we still had one tradition left: opening a gift from the extended family.
Since Phillip got to pick out which gift I opened, I was a bit worried. I thought he'd go for something peculiar, but it didn't work that way. Instead, he pulled out a decently sized package that was from my grandmother. When it clunked, I was terrified that it had somehow gotten broken. Hesitantly, I pulled the wrapping paper off the box, and I stared at it in confusion for a moment. Inside was a rather beaten, dusty box that looked as if it had been around for a number of decades more than I had. Confused, I slowly opened it, and I stared at what was inside.
Silverware. But, more than that, beautiful silverware. Looking in the box, I found a sheet of paper that declared it was Tudor Plated Silverware as made by the Oneida Community Silversmiths, and the paper was so old I was afraid it would fall apart in my hands. The set wasn't complete, but every piece was so beautiful and fit so wonderfully in my hands that I couldn't help but marvel at it. "It's so beautiful!" I told my Dad.
And then he told me the most stunning thing of all. "That silverware was your great grandmother's. I've known for some time you were going to inherit it."
I stared at the fork in my hand with renewed awe. It was my great grandmother's? She died nearly ten years ago, you see, and I was devastated when she passed away. My childhood is full of memories of running around in her garden and eating pecan sandies with her. We would spend a lot of time tending to the irises, and she loved to just talk with me even though I was just a tiny kid. I loved her with all of my heart, and suddenly I was holding something that had belonged to her for fifty years. I nearly cried I was so touched and so happy. The next hour was spent looking up the pattern and how much it would take to make the set complete. Suffice it to say, the pieces I am missing are on their way now. Dad was willing to go halfs with me on a set that had what I needed, so Grandma Bone's silverware won't be lonely anymore.
I can't wait until the day when I get to use her beautiful silverware with great grandchildren of my own. The set, I hope, is something that will be passed down through the family for many years to come. I could not have received a more beautiful gift.
Pretty, isn't it?By way of information, the pattern is called "Fantasy" and was made from 1941-1959.
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