Much Ado
Today I went to see Much Ado About Nothing with my dad and my little sister. Much Ado is my favorite of Shakespeare’s plays. Why, I don’t know. But I’ve loved it ever since I was about fifteen.
Our seats were fabulous. They were in the section marked “stage.” See, in this particular playhouse, there are a few rows of seats that are actually elevated to the same level as the stage, and they are along the sides of the stage. A bit like a theater in the round, only missing one side. And the actors really do quite a bit of interacting with the people who sit there. Sometimes, being at right angles to the rest of the audience is not so good, because when they “cheat” and plan their blocking they still do it with the front of the stage in mind, so sometimes you can’t see quite all of the action. But to be flirted with by Benedick and to have him lurk behind your seat and then slither on his belly past your feet while hiding from his comrades in the “pleached bower,” it is worth it!
I had so much fun. When I was in Jr. High and high school I used to do a lot of acting, but I haven’t had time for it since I graduated. I miss it. I always wanted to get good enough to play some Shakespeare; as is I wouldn’t do him justice. He had such genius. For instance:
“A man is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it.” This comes after a discussion of the various inequities between men and women. Beatrice’s cousin, Hero, has been dishonoured by false rumours spread about by some men. Beatrice wishes she were a man so that she could defend her beloved cousin’d ruined honor and avenge what her cousin has lost– which is everything, for back then there were huge double standards between men and women. But this statement is true on another level as well: in the play, these men are all soldiers; they have just returned victorious from war. Who was it who said that the first casualty of war is the truth? Those on each side of the conflict twist actual events and report things so as to make themselves out the hero…which is, coincidentally, the name of the woman whose good name has been ruined.
Amazing. I love Shakespeare. So many genuine human emotions, so much truth and eloquence, such incredible insight into human strengths and weaknesses. They were written hundreds of years ago– and yet they might have been written yesterday. That is the mark of truly great genius: its work is timeless.
