Wednesday, September 05, 2007
In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses the Difficulty of Trying to Read Hamlet at the Circulatoin Desk on a Busy Wednesday Night
Recently, I purchased the Branaugh version of Hamlet on DVD. It is a spectacular film, full of color and action, shot of 70 mm film. The picture is amazing. The only problem: the actors talk much too quickly for my modern day English ears and their Elizabethian English is lost somewhat. I know the story, the basics if you will, but I'm not familiar with the nuances. In short, I am no Harold Bloom. Not that I really want to be anyway. Since the the actors speak so quickly or maybe its my ears hear too slowly (probably more the latter as opposed to the former) I have decided to give ye olde Bard a try via libro. Stop. I've decided to muddle my way through the printed text of Hamlet. Its been slow going because I keep getting interupted and distracted as student walk by. Surpringly, I am actually getting it. Meaning I'm able to get the language. I, like most people, have a bit of a fear of Shakespeare because I don't think I can hang with the language. That I'm too stupid to get the gist of it and get the deeper meaning. Of course, I guess one could make the case that even Harold Bloom, liver lipped high priest of Bardology himself freely admits that he, too, is still peeling back layers of the Shakespeare onion.
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For whatever reason when I first read that last line, my brain omitted the "l" from "peeling."
Even more strange, it actually made sense.
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