But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou, her maid, art more fair than she.
I didn’t mean to take a week off from writing here. But there were other things to do. M was away, L smashed up his toe, the final part of the final season of Mad Men arrived at the video store, and we went to see two plays. All of us. Well, all of us to one show, most of us to the other.
The last time I read Romeo and Juliet must have been in college, but it’s the high school reading I keep remembering as I read it again. Rereading books can affect me the same as smelling certain smells from your past. You know, you catch a whiff of soft plastic and boom, you’re back playing with your Snoopy and Belle dolls from when you were five. Rereading is like that. I’ve got Romeo all aflutter and boom, I’m reclining in my falling-apart recliner in that green bedroom and eating a poptart.
Shakespeare wrote in English, but also not quite English to our modern ears. Reading him is like learning a wholly new language. There does come a point where you don’t need the footnotes as much. The sentences start rearranging themselves with little effort on your part and even if a word isn’t quite what you’re used to, the context picks it up and establishes it with the right meaning. Try it.
I spoke a tiny bit of French today on the phone with Canada. I took four years of French in school and have had cause to use it three times: today, once in college when a friend had a crush on a foreign exchange student, and once in Venice when I needed to know where the bus was going and didn’t speak Italian. French was the one common language between me and the very patient bus driver.
I also took Latin for a year and have had zero opportunity to speak that one, so yay French!
Anyhoo, please excuse the break in programming. While I wish writing a blog were my main occupation, the real world won’t let me leave it behind.