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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Dayuhan who wrote (45925)	7/17/1999 8:49:00 PM
From: epicure	Respond to of 108807

I love the joyous comedies, in fact I love all the comedies. I like them much better than the tragedies. 12th night is a favorite of mine, but I also like, Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It, The Taming of The Shrew, and I agree with you- the Tempest is fantastic. Star Wars is too simple, too one dimensional to have the kind of legs a real set of myths, or the Shakespearean dramas have. For one thing, real myths have evolved over time. What didn't work has been left behind- and they have been refined into the distillate of the human psyche (imo). As for Shakespeare's dramas- they were stolen from some of the best myths, and sagas etc around. I happened to see "Royal Deceit" which is the ORIGINAL Hamlet, taken from the Sagas- its GREAT- I much prefer it to Hamlet- for plot, but who can ever criticize Shakespeare's language? To be, or not to be; that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep- No more, and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to- 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life, For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of desprized love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th'unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Is there anything better than that? The language is a delight, I don't know how else to put it. The jokes are as fresh today as they must have been then. When Olivia's poor steward in Twelfth Night is set up and utters his great speech: "Some are born to greatness, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness THRUST upon them"- was there ever a better fool than Malvolio? I like him much much better than Falstaff.