From Goodreads
Othello
William Shakespeare
Othello ranks up there with my favorite Shakespearean work, Coriolanus. Shakespeare knows how to grab your attention even through all the barriers. His character development moves the plot along while simultaneously giving it extra layers. Othello's tragedy makes for a fun time when you get to the deeper ethical questions, but at the same time it is obvious that Othello is as unquestionably guilty as Iago. Iago is a pretty fascinating character as well. I'm rambling here so I'll end with that.
Yet another attempt to codify my unholy mess of thoughts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts
Monday, March 11, 2019
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Day 7 of London
(Originally Written April 9, 2015)
Day Seven was the second and final of our excursions. Unlike when we went to Stonehenge though we went to Stratford-upon-Avon via train without a tour guide which was simple enough getting there, but almost disastrous on the way home. More to come on that later. After a couple of sandwiches, a Cornish pasty and some Cask Ale in the train station we were on our way to see the birthplace and final resting place of one William Shakespeare.
We arrived at the train station and walked into the visitor center to get the tickets I had purchased online. We were informed that the church where Shakespeare was buried was being closed in fifteen minutes for a funeral so we rushed to it as it would've reopened with very little time for us to see it and still make our return train. The church was small but still pretty magnificent and besides a few stray tourists it was fairly empty. We explored the church for as long as we could before the funeral procession arrived and were politely escorted out after snapping a couple of quick pictures by his grave.
From there we went on to Hall Croft, the house of his daughter and son-in-law. It was a very pretty
house and had a lovely garden in the back. All of this tour was rushed given the fact that everything in town closed by Five O'clock. So after a quick tour of this house it was on to the house where young Billy grew up. After viewing the house and touring through the rooms we learned a bit of its history and got to see where he had spent his formative years before traveling on down to London to become the famous man he is. The guest book was pretty neat to see as a number of presidents had signed it and some pretty famous authors in their own right as well. In fact, Charles Dickens was one of the people that helped preserve the house as it had changed hands numerous times since William had lived there and had served various purposes including one as a pub called the Swan & Maidenhead.
After that Erin spent a bit of time in the gift shop while I popped outside to look at the high street where I was tricked into trying this homemade peaty and smoky whiskey that lit my entire body on fire. Needless to say I didn't come home with any. After that we shopped a little and grabbed dinner at a pub. After eating (and more cask ale) we proceeded to get turned around and nearly missed our train home. Luckily we had a cab pick us up and drive us three blocks and boarded the train just as it was taking off.
Another cool little spot in the town was this sundial where you stood in the middle and served as the dial for the sun to cast a shadow upon.
Day Seven was the second and final of our excursions. Unlike when we went to Stonehenge though we went to Stratford-upon-Avon via train without a tour guide which was simple enough getting there, but almost disastrous on the way home. More to come on that later. After a couple of sandwiches, a Cornish pasty and some Cask Ale in the train station we were on our way to see the birthplace and final resting place of one William Shakespeare.
We arrived at the train station and walked into the visitor center to get the tickets I had purchased online. We were informed that the church where Shakespeare was buried was being closed in fifteen minutes for a funeral so we rushed to it as it would've reopened with very little time for us to see it and still make our return train. The church was small but still pretty magnificent and besides a few stray tourists it was fairly empty. We explored the church for as long as we could before the funeral procession arrived and were politely escorted out after snapping a couple of quick pictures by his grave.
From there we went on to Hall Croft, the house of his daughter and son-in-law. It was a very pretty
house and had a lovely garden in the back. All of this tour was rushed given the fact that everything in town closed by Five O'clock. So after a quick tour of this house it was on to the house where young Billy grew up. After viewing the house and touring through the rooms we learned a bit of its history and got to see where he had spent his formative years before traveling on down to London to become the famous man he is. The guest book was pretty neat to see as a number of presidents had signed it and some pretty famous authors in their own right as well. In fact, Charles Dickens was one of the people that helped preserve the house as it had changed hands numerous times since William had lived there and had served various purposes including one as a pub called the Swan & Maidenhead.
After that Erin spent a bit of time in the gift shop while I popped outside to look at the high street where I was tricked into trying this homemade peaty and smoky whiskey that lit my entire body on fire. Needless to say I didn't come home with any. After that we shopped a little and grabbed dinner at a pub. After eating (and more cask ale) we proceeded to get turned around and nearly missed our train home. Luckily we had a cab pick us up and drive us three blocks and boarded the train just as it was taking off. Another cool little spot in the town was this sundial where you stood in the middle and served as the dial for the sun to cast a shadow upon.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Notes on An Amateur Peasant Girl
(Originally Written September 15, 2011 in The Journal)
An Amateur Peasant Girl - Alexander Pushkin
Ivan Petrovitch Berestaff was likable but proud and thrifty man.
Gregory Ivanovitch Mouromsky was an old stamp noble who had squandred his wealth on opulence.
Ivan mocked Gregory. Gregory looked down on Ivan as a peasant.
On differentiating country women who grow peculiar but charming and the city women who are better off Pushkin states that the ladies of the city, "women receive perhaps better instruction, but intercourse with the world soon levels the character and makes their souls as uniform as their head-dresses". This is an interesting take on what culture does to individuals.
Alexie, the son of Ivan has returned to the country from the city as a disenchanted and mysterious youth and has attracted the countrywomen to him.
Liza, the daughter of Gregory has the most interest in Alexei. Liza was spoiled rotten and raised to match the English ways her father so readily copied.
"But is not the fear which accompanies our youthful escapades that which constitutes their greatest charm?"
What an odd story. It's like a happy ending version of Romeo and Juliet. It was like a farce-spoof of Shakespeare.
Mais etes-vous fou? Are you mad?
An Amateur Peasant Girl - Alexander Pushkin
Ivan Petrovitch Berestaff was likable but proud and thrifty man.
Gregory Ivanovitch Mouromsky was an old stamp noble who had squandred his wealth on opulence.
Ivan mocked Gregory. Gregory looked down on Ivan as a peasant.
On differentiating country women who grow peculiar but charming and the city women who are better off Pushkin states that the ladies of the city, "women receive perhaps better instruction, but intercourse with the world soon levels the character and makes their souls as uniform as their head-dresses". This is an interesting take on what culture does to individuals.
Alexie, the son of Ivan has returned to the country from the city as a disenchanted and mysterious youth and has attracted the countrywomen to him.
Liza, the daughter of Gregory has the most interest in Alexei. Liza was spoiled rotten and raised to match the English ways her father so readily copied.
"But is not the fear which accompanies our youthful escapades that which constitutes their greatest charm?"
What an odd story. It's like a happy ending version of Romeo and Juliet. It was like a farce-spoof of Shakespeare.
Mais etes-vous fou? Are you mad?
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