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Our Town. Thornton Wilder. 1938. 181 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: Stage Manager: This play is called "Our Town."

Premise/plot: Set in Grover's Corners, New Hampshire, at the turn of the twentieth century, this Pulitzer-prize winning drama follows two families: the Gibbs and the Webbs as the meaning of life is explored.

Readers--viewers--"see" certain life events in the town. Some BIG moments (the wedding between George and Emily, Emily's funeral), some small moments (the opening scene, for example, Emily's birthday, the first "aha" moment when George and Emily realize they'll be together until they are parted by death). The narrator who speeds us along life's journey is the "Stage Manager."

My thoughts: I knew this was a famous play. And I knew I "needed" to read it. I am glad I read it as an adult. I am not sure that a 17 year old me would have gotten it. The play essentially is about how you live life--or how you DON'T actually "live" life as the case may be. Life is made up of moments. And we are so super-busy and super-self-absorbed that we don't live in the moments. We don't treasure the moments we're given. We don't see enough, feel enough, give thanks enough, understand enough.


© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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The Matchmaker. Thornton Wilder. 1954. 120 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: I tell you for the hundredth time you will never marry my niece.

Premise/plot: The Matchmaker is a play by Thornton Wilder. Chances are if you hear the names "Horace Vandergelder," "Cornelius Hackl," "Barnaby Tucker," "Irene Molloy," and "Dolly Levi" you will likely think of the musical Hello Dolly and not The Matchmaker. But The Matchmaker obviously came first.

What should you know? It is FUNNY. It features more characters than the musical. (I really LOVED Malachi Stack and Flora Van Huysen. Malachi gets some of the best lines, in my opinion!) The ending is similar but not identical.

So for those who haven't seen the musical... Horace Vandergelder is a cranky old man who is about to make a big decision. He has decided to remarry. Just as emphatically as he's decided to marry, he's decided that his niece will NOT be marrying her fellow, Ambrose Kemper. Two of Vandergelder's clerks (he's a store owner) decide--on this momentous day--that they've had enough and deserve a day off. Not just any day off, but a day off in the CITY. One of them vows TO NOT COME HOME UNTIL HE'S KISSED A GIRL. Cornelius and Barnaby "happen" to meet Irene Molloy (Vandergelder's first choice) and her assistant, Minnie. The people seeking adventure get in over their heads. The people NOT seeking adventure get in over their heads too. By the end, one and all long for normalcy and routine.

My thoughts: If you ask me if I like the movie--well, I can get all the best scenes by watching Wall-E. But after seeing Hello Dolly live at my local theatre, well, my perspective changed a bit. Things that were slightly funny sitting at home watching the movie really become hilarious on stage. I walked out a FAN. The Matchmaker was a perfectly perfect read for me. And I loved coming across lines like, "Go and get your Sunday clothes on."

Quotes:

"It looks to me like you're pretty rash to judge which is fools and which isn't fools, Mr. Vandergelder. People that's et onions is bad judges of who's et onions and who ain't." Joe (the barber) to Mr. Vandergelder

"Ninety-nine percent of the people in the world are fools and the rest of us are in great danger of contagion." Mr. Vandergelder

"I tell you right now: a fine woman is the greatest work of God." Cornelius

"There's nothing like eavesdropping to show you that the world outside your head is different from the world inside your head." Malachi 

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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In the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, Shakespeare's plays were performed at professional playhouses such as the Globe and the Rose, as well as at the Inns of Court, the houses of noblemen, and at the Queen's palace. In fact, the playing company The Queen's Men was formed at the express command of Elizabeth I to [...]

The post Shakespeare and performance: the 16th century to today [infographic] appeared first on OUPblog.

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Twelfth Night. William Shakespeare. 1601. 220 pages. [Source: Library]

Twelfth Night is not in my top three list of plays by Shakespeare. But I often forget that I do really enjoy it all the same. For one thing, it is a comedy. And I just love how this one opens. I must admit that the line, "If music be the food of love, play on" is a great, great line.

So. Essentially this one is about a shipwreck and the romantic misunderstanding that arise from that shipwreck. Sebastian and Viola are twins. Each think the other perished in the wreck. Viola, with a little help from a sea captain, decides to "become" a man and seek employment with Orsino the Duke of Ilyria. Her new name is Cesario. Sebastian is rescued by a man named Antonio, who also happens to be a sea captain, but not the same that rescued Viola. These two will not realize that the other is alive for most of the play. Olivia is the "love" of Orsino's life. The problem? Olivia is mourning because of her brother's recent death, and, she really can't be bothered with the Duke's attempts of wooing and courtship. Most of the characters in the play are from Olivia's household. (Also the Duke's household.) Feste, a clown, bridges the two together in a way. He's in scenes at both houses. (He may just be my favorite character from this play).

So what is the misunderstanding? Well, Olivia falls madly, deeply in love with Cesario at first sight. Cesario is the Duke's messenger. Viola herself falls head over heels in love with the Duke. It seems love will make a fool of all three since there can be no happy ending as matters stand. There are further misunderstandings, but, this is the big one.

One of the comic elements of this play involves a practical joke of sorts in Olivia's household. Malvolio, her steward, is led to believe that Olivia is madly in love with him. He believes this easily, and, soon becomes a very, big fool all in the name of love.

I think I appreciate this one more having seen it performed when I was in college.

Favorite lines:

Anything that's mended is but patched. Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. ~ Feste, Act I, scene V

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon'em. ~ Malvolio reading a letter "from Olivia" Act II, scene V

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. ~ Olivia to Cesario, Act III, scene I

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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Cyrano de Bergerac. Edmond Rostand. Translated by Lowell Blair. 1897. 240 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: Stop! You haven't paid your fifteen sols!

Premise/plot: Cyrano de Bergerac is in love with his cousin, Roxane. The problem? He lacks the courage to tell her so because he feels his nose--his hideous, ugliness--will prevent her from ever loving him in return. Also standing in his way is the fact that Roxane declares herself head over heels in love with oh-so-handsome Christian de Neuvillette. How does Christian feel about Roxane? He loves her of course. Why? Because she's beautiful. (At least Cyrano knows Roxane, and, his love isn't based on her beauty alone.) Roxane asks Cyrano to watch over Christian and be his friend. (Christian has just joined the same regiment.) Cyrano tells Christian that Roxane does love him, but, instead of that being the end of it...it is just the start. For Roxane is determined that the man she loves will be brilliant and exceptionally well-spoken. He must win her heart through his words. The problem? Christian's idea of wooing is to say "I love you" and go in for a kiss. NOT WHAT ROXANE WANTS AT ALL. The solution is for Cyrano to give Christian the words to speak to win her heart for once and all. But is that a real solution?! Is a happily ever after possible in this love triangle?!

Cyrano de Bergerac is a five act (French) play by Edmond Rostand written/performed in 1897. It is set in seventeenth century France around the same time as The Three Musketeers. And like The Three Musketeers, it has sword fighting. Lots and lots of sword fighting.

My thoughts: I LOVE it. I really, really, really love it. I think I first saw the 1990 French film with English subtitles. I found it swoon-worthy then. I am not sure when I first read it, probably in high school or college. I don't think I read it more than once, however, so it was like rediscovering a forgotten friend to reread it after all these years.

I do think (like most plays) it is best read in one sitting if at all possible. (I do allow for intermissions! After all, if you were to see it performed live, they'd certainly be at least one break!)

Act five is certainly the most dramatic perhaps, but, it is also for me a wonderfully bittersweet way to end the play. THAT ENDING gets me every time.

I think this play is beautifully written. I adore the character of Cyrano de Bergerac. I love his integrity, his wit, his passion, his dashing courage.

Have you read Cyrano de Bergerac? What did you think?

Favorite quotes:

Cyrano: I have a different idea of elegance. I don't dress like a fop, it's true, but my moral grooming is impeccable. I never appear in public with a soiled conscience, a tarnished honor, threadbare scruples or an insult that I haven't washed away. I'm always immaculately clean, adorned with independence and frankness. I may not cut a stylish figure, but I hold my soul erect. I wear my deeds as ribbons, my wit is sharper than the finest mustache, and when I walk among men I make truths ring like spurs. (40)

Cyrano: Look at me and tell me what hope this protuberance might leave me! I have no illusions. Sometimes, in the blue shadows of evening, I give way to tender feelings. I go into a garden, smelling the fragrance of spring with my poor monstrous nose, and watch a man and a woman strolling together in the moonlight. I think how much I, too, would like to be walking arm in arm with a woman, under the moon. I let myself be carried away, I forget myself--and then I suddenly see the shadow of my profile on the garden wall. (50)

Ragueneau: How can you treat poetry with such disrespect?
Lise: I'll treat poetry however I please!
Ragueneau: I shudder to think of what you might do with prose! (62)

Cyrano: I'll now put down on paper the love letter that I've already written within myself a hundred times. I have only to look into my soul and copy the words inscribed in it. (66)

Cyrano: My poor girl, you're so fond of fine words and gracious wit--what if he should prove to be an uncultured savage?
Roxane: Impossible. He has the hair of one of d'Urfe's heroes!
Cyrano: His speech may be as crude as his hair is elegant.
Roxane: No, there's delicacy in everything he says. I feel it.
Cyrano: Yes, all words are delicate when they come from lips adorned with a shapely mustache...But what if he's a fool?
Roxane: [stamping her foot] Then I'll die! There, are you satisfied? (78)

Cyrano: Shall we complete each other? We'll walk together: you in the light, I in the shadow. I'll make you eloquent, you'll make me handsome. (102)

Roxane: Your words are hesitant tonight. Why?
Cyrano (pretending to be Christian): Because of the darkness, they must grope their way to your ears.
Roxane: My words have no such difficulty.
Cyrano: They go straight to my heart, a goal too large to miss, whereas your ears are small. And your words travel swiftly because they fall, while mine must slowly climb.
Roxane: But they seem to be climbing better now.
Cyrano: They've finally become accustomed to that exercise.
Roxane: It's true that I'm speaking from high above you.
Cyrano: Yes, and it would kill me if you let a harsh word fall on my heart from that height. (126)

Cyrano: After all, what is a kiss? A vow made at closer range, a more precise promise, a confession that contains its own proof, a seal placed on a pact that has already been signed; it's a secret told to the mouth rather than to the ear, a fleeting moment filled with the hush of eternity, a communion that has the fragrance of a flower, a way of living by the beat of another heart, and tasting another soul on one's lips! (133)

Roxane: I've adored you since the evening when under my window, you began to reveal your soul to me in a voice I'd never heard you use before, and when I read your letters it was like hearing that same voice. I could feel its tenderness enveloping me! Finally I had to come to you, no matter what the danger! Penelope wouldn't have calmly stayed home with her weaving if Ulysses had written to her as you've written to me! She would have become as ardent as Helen of Troy, thrown her work aside, and gone off to join him! (184)

Roxane: Ah, how many things have died, and how many have now been born! Why were you silent for fourteen years, knowing that he hadn't written that letter, and that the tears on it were yours?
Cyrano: The blood was his. (218)

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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BBC Radio 3's Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, translated by Anthony Burgess. Adapted for radio by John Tydeman. First aired 2008.

Cyrano... Kenneth Branagh
Christian... Tom Hiddleston
Roxane... Jodhi May
De Guiche... John Shrapnel
Rageuneau... Jimmy Yuill
Le Bret... Gerard Horan
and others....

After watching the movie and reading the play, I was DELIGHTED to find a radio drama of what is fast becoming my favorite play!

Cyrano is played by Kenneth Branagh. He does a great job with the role as he did a great job with Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing!

Christian is played by Tom Hiddleston. I can easily imagine him as a perfect Christian!

All the actors did a GREAT job bringing this drama to life. It's a great production. It's just a little over two hours long.

Premise/plot: Cyrano, our hero, is madly in love with his cousin, Roxane. Judging himself too ugly to stand a chance with her--or with any woman--he is content to love her from afar. Roxane contacts him, through a maid, letting him know that they must meet. For a few hours he dreams that maybe just maybe he has a small chance with her. But she is meeting him to tell him that she is desperately in love with a young cadet (soon to join his regiment) named Christian. Will he befriend Christian and help them to be together?!?! Christian is "in love" with Roxane too. They've never spoken to each other. They've only seen each other a time or two. And yet both know it's LOVE. Cyrano questions her. What if he turns out to be less than her ideal??? She'll DIE she responds.
Cyrano does as she asks...and more. He turns Christian into the man of her dreams...by giving him the words to speak to win her heart.

There is a third man in Roxane's life, Count De Guiche. He loves her, but, is married. He adds drama and conflict to this French romance....

I would definitely recommend giving this one a listen if you can.


© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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Much Ado About Nothing. William Shakespeare. 1599/2004. SparkNotes. 256 pages. [Source: Bought]

Much Ado About Nothing is without a doubt my favorite, favorite, FAVORITE, FAVORITE William Shakespeare play. To put it into perspective, I enjoy a handful of his comedies, and, even now and then a tragedy--though not Romeo and Juliet.

So what do I love about Much Ado About Nothing?

I love the movie. Even if you have no intention of ever reading the play, you SHOULD see the movie adaptation starring Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson.

I love the soundtrack, the score, by Patrick Doyle. It is probably one of my favorite scores ever. (Perhaps I should do a top ten list sometime!)

I love the characters of Benedick and Beatrice. I do. I love, love, love them both as individuals and as a couple.

I love the humor and the romance.

I love how quotable it is. Down below, I'll be sharing my top ten quotes from the play!

Now, I don't necessarily, love, love, love the "romance" between Hero and Claudio. Hero is perfectly fine as a character--not fiery, not memorable, not delightful--but fine. Claudio, on the other hand, deserves to be yelled at more than a couple of times.

My top ten quotes from Much Ado About Nothing. The first three are my favorites. The rest are in the order of the play itself.

***

BENEDICK

[Coming forward] This can be no trick: the
conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of
this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady: it
seems her affections have their full bent. Love me!
why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured:
they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive
the love come from her; they say too that she will
rather die than give any sign of affection. I did
never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy
are they that hear their detractions and can put
them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a
truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis
so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving
me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor
no great argument of her folly, for I will be
horribly in love with her. I may chance have some
odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me,
because I have railed so long against marriage: but
doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat
in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of
the brain awe a man from the career of his humour?
No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would
die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I
were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day!
she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in
her.

***

BEATRICE

[Coming forward]
What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!
No glory lives behind the back of such.
And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:
If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
To bind our loves up in a holy band;
For others say thou dost deserve, and I
Believe it better than reportingly.

***

BALTHASAR (singing)

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy:
Then sigh not so, & c.

***

BENEDICK
That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she
brought me up, I likewise give her most humble
thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,
all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do
them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the
right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which
I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.

***

CLAUDIO
Thus answer I in the name of Benedick,
But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself.
Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
This is an accident of hourly proof,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!

***

DON PEDRO

Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of
Signior Benedick.

BEATRICE

Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave
him use for it, a double heart for his single one:
marry, once before he won it of me with false dice,
therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.

DON PEDRO

You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.

***

BEATRICE

Speak, count, 'tis your cue.

CLAUDIO

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were
but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as
you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for
you and dote upon the exchange.

BEATRICE

Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth
with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.

DON PEDRO

In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.

BEATRICE

Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on
the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his
ear that he is in her heart.

CLAUDIO

And so she doth, cousin.

BEATRICE

Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the
world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a
corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!

DON PEDRO

Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.

BEATRICE

I would rather have one of your father's getting.
Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your
father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.

DON PEDRO

Will you have me, lady?

BEATRICE

No, my lord, unless I might have another for
working-days: your grace is too costly to wear
every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I
was born to speak all mirth and no matter.

DON PEDRO

Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in
a merry hour.

BEATRICE

No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there
was a star danced, and under that was I born.
Cousins, God give you joy!

***

DON PEDRO

By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.

LEONATO

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my
lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and
not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say,
she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked
herself with laughing.

DON PEDRO

She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.

LEONATO

O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit.

DON PEDRO

She were an excellent wife for Benedict.

LEONATO

O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married,
they would talk themselves mad.

***

BENEDICK

Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?

BEATRICE

Yea, and I will weep a while longer.

BENEDICK

I will not desire that.

BEATRICE

You have no reason; I do it freely.

BENEDICK

Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.

BEATRICE

Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!

BENEDICK

Is there any way to show such friendship?

BEATRICE

A very even way, but no such friend.

BENEDICK

May a man do it?

BEATRICE

It is a man's office, but not yours.

BENEDICK

I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is
not that strange?

BEATRICE

As strange as the thing I know not. It were as
possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as
you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I
confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.

BENEDICK

By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

BEATRICE

Do not swear, and eat it.

BENEDICK

I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make
him eat it that says I love not you.

BEATRICE

Will you not eat your word?

BENEDICK

With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest
I love thee.

BEATRICE

Why, then, God forgive me!

BENEDICK

What offence, sweet Beatrice?

BEATRICE

You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to
protest I loved you.

BENEDICK

And do it with all thy heart.

BEATRICE

I love you with so much of my heart that none is
left to protest.

BENEDICK

Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

BEATRICE

Kill Claudio.

BENEDICK

Ha! not for the wide world.

BEATRICE

You kill me to deny it. Farewell.

BENEDICK

Tarry, sweet Beatrice.

BEATRICE

I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in
you: nay, I pray you, let me go.

BENEDICK

Beatrice,--

BEATRICE

In faith, I will go.

BENEDICK

We'll be friends first.

BEATRICE

You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.

BENEDICK

Is Claudio thine enemy?

BEATRICE

Is he not approved in the height a villain, that
hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O
that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they
come to take hands; and then, with public
accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,
--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart
in the market-place.

BENEDICK

Hear me, Beatrice,--

BEATRICE

Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!

BENEDICK

Nay, but, Beatrice,--

BEATRICE

Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.

BENEDICK

Beat--

BEATRICE

Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony,
a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant,
surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I
had any friend would be a man for my sake! But
manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into
compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and
trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules
that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a
man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

BENEDICK

Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.

BEATRICE

Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.

BENEDICK

Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?

BEATRICE

Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.

BENEDICK

Enough, I am engaged; I will challenge him. I will
kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand,
Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you
hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your
cousin: I must say she is dead: and so, farewell.

***

BENEDICK

Do not you love me?

BEATRICE

Why, no; no more than reason.

BENEDICK

Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio
Have been deceived; they swore you did.

BEATRICE

Do not you love me?

BENEDICK

Troth, no; no more than reason.

BEATRICE

Why, then my cousin Margaret and Ursula
Are much deceived; for they did swear you did.

BENEDICK

They swore that you were almost sick for me.

BEATRICE

They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

BENEDICK

'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?

BEATRICE

No, truly, but in friendly recompense.

LEONATO

Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

CLAUDIO

And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
For here's a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

HERO

And here's another
Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

BENEDICK

A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts.
Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take
thee for pity.

BEATRICE

I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield
upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life,
for I was told you were in a consumption.

BENEDICK

Peace! I will stop your mouth.

Kissing her

DON PEDRO

How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?

© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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Will's Words: How William Shakespeare Changed the Way You Talk by Jane Sutcliffe.  Illustrated by John Shelly.  2016, Charlesbridge. 

According to author Jane Sutcliffe's note, she intended to write a book about the Globe Theater and its famous playwright, but found she was more interested in the way that William Shakespeare's words (even the invented ones!) have become so ingrained in our everyday speech. 

The end result is somewhat of a hybrid.  Two types of text boxes are placed upon each double-spread, full-bleed illustration.  One contains an account of life in the time and milieu of William Shakespeare,

Good plays need good playwrights.  And the most brilliant playwright in London was Mr. William Shakespeare. From butchers and bakers, to lords and ladies, everyone looked forward to the excitement of a Will Shakespeare play.

While the other explains one or more of Shakespeare's words,

WILL'S WORD: Excitement
WHAT IT MEANS: A feeling of "Bring it on!"  This was a fairly new word in Will's time.  He helped people get excited about "excitement."
WHERE IT COMES FROM: HAMLET, ACT 4, SCENE 4.  There's a lot of excitement in Hamlet's family.  And not the good kind.

The "Will's Word" text boxes are displayed on a facsimile of parchment paper - a nice touch.  If John Shelley's illustrations don't necessarily capture the squalor of the time, they certainly capture the essence of living in a seething mass of humanity.  The pen, ink, and watercolor illustrations are positively teeming with activity - providing opportunity for exploring hundreds of small details in each scene.

I chose to highlight one of the shorter passages.  However, there are more than fifteen scenes packed with information presented in a lively, conversational tone that will keep readers' attention.  Teachers should love this one.

The book goes on sale today.  Look for it on a library shelf soon.  If you choose to purchase it, you will receive the gift of more words from Shakespeare, your "money's worth."


Author's Notes, Timeline, and Bibliography are included.

• Download the Activity Guide with Reader's Theater for Will's Words here.

Note:
My copy of Will's Words was provided by the publisher at my request. 

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Iphigenia in Tauris by Euripides was first performed in 414 BCE. Euripides and the Greeks considered it a tragedy even though these days literary folk like to argue otherwise. But no one dies! There is no blood and keening, no eye gouging! It kind of has a happy ending! What ancient Greeks considered a tragedy is quite different from our modern day definition and it seems completely pointless and silly to waste ink arguing over how to classify this play. But I guess scholars need something to do and it is harmless in the scheme of things.

If you recall your Greek stories, Iphigenia is the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. Agamemnon sacrificed her in order bring the winds that would get the Greek fleet to Troy where the dastardly Paris had absconded with Helen, his brother’s wife. That’s Agamemnon’s brother, Menelaus, not Paris’s brother, Hector. Clytemnestra killed Agamemnon on his victorious return from Troy ten years later in part as revenge for him murdering her daughter. Orestes, Cly and Agie’s son, eventually shows up and kills his mother and her new husband in revenge for his father’s murder. As punishment for the matricide, the Furies are set loose on Orestes. Well and so.

Iphigenia, however, according to some, was not actually sacrificed. At the last moment Artemis saved her by substituting a pig/lamb/calf (take your pick) and whisked Iphigenia away to her Temple among the Taurians somewhere on the Black Sea (there was never an actual country called Tauris yet the people were called Taurians but I can’t for the life of me find out what their country was called, if it was even real so if you know, please enlighten me). Euripides chooses to go with this version of the story. Obvs.

So for all these years Iphigenia has been the High Priestess in the Temple of Artemis among the Taurians who think that human sacrifice is a pretty awesome thing. They especially like to capture strangers who are driven to shore by the freak tides and dangerous waters around their country and offer them up to Artemis. In spite of the excitement sacrificing humans must be, especially when you yourself were at one time supposed to be a human sacrifice, Iphigenia seems rather bored. She spends quite a lot of time missing Greece and wishing she could go home (she has apparently forgiven her father for his attempted sacrifice of her). If she knew all that had been going on, she might change her mind, but she doesn’t because no one from Greece has set foot on Taurian shores in all the years Iphigenia has been there.

Until now.

Two young Greeks land their boat on the shore and then hide it and themselves because they don’t know how friendly these barbarians are. On a side note, when you come across anything in ancient Greek stories that talk about barbarians, it usually isn’t referring to specific barbarians (like Conan for instance or even Cohen and Nijel the Destroyer for that matter), but to anyone who is not Greek. The Greeks thought very highly of themselves and if you were not Greek, you were a barbarian which goes a long way towards explaining quite a lot of ancient Greek history.

Anywho, these stealthy Greeks had been sent by Artemis to “recover” something from the Temple, an icon made of wood. They are none other than Orestes and his best bud Pylades. Even though he is on this mission for Artemis he is still also being chased by the Furies. Since Artemis knows that Iphigenia is at this temple and she and Orestes are siblings, one can’t help but think this an elaborate ruse to get them to meet. The pair of icon thieves are captured by Taurian guards even before they get to reconnoiter because Orestes has a crazy Furies moment and starts yelling and waving his arms about on the beach in front of everyone. So much for stealthy.

The Taurians are delighted to have prime Greek humans to sacrifice. They are brought before Iphigenia. No, she does not recognize Orestes because he was just a boy when he was fostered out elsewhere for his own protection. Before getting to the sacrificing bit, Iphigenia starts pumping them for information about what’s been going on in Greece all these years. She realizes pretty soon that these two are actually from her hometown and the more questions she asks, the more evasive Orestes gets. He has no idea he’s talking to his sister. Round and round they go.

Finally in desperation, Iphigenia strikes a deal. She’ll only sacrifice one of them if the other one will carry a message back home for her, letting the family know she is actually alive and hoping that maybe someone will come for her. This bargaining is all carried out without once mentioning family names. But the men agree and then the pair proceed to argue over who is going to be the one sacrificed. Orestes thinks being killed would be pretty okay, it would, after all, rid him of the Furies. Pylades, says no, I love you too much, let me be killed so I can die happy knowing you are still alive even if the Furies are chasing you. After many declarations of love and bickering over whose life is worthier, Orestes gives in and Pylades is thrilled that he gets to die for him.

Since Iphigenia doesn’t know how to read or write, she has to tell Orestes the message for her family at which point Orestes and Pylades gawp at her because they realize who she is. Orestes reveals himself as her brother but Iphigenia makes him prove it which he does by telling her something only a family member would know. Happy reunion scene ensues followed by a what-do-we-do-now conference since Iphigenia is supposed to kill them.

But they work it out as only the children of Agamemnon can. All three escape from Tauris and Orestes and Pylades even get the icon they came for. The king is about to send his navy after the three but Athena appears and tells him that it wouldn’t be prudent. The king knows which side his bread is buttered on, calls off his men, and places a help wanted ad in the local paper for a new High Priestess for the Temple. Meanwhile, Orestes, Pylades and Iphigenia sail off into the sunset.

You can see why scholars are into arguing how to classify this play. It’s also not the most exciting or interesting Euripides play ever. There is lots of longing for home from both Iphigenia and Orestes, and how that homesickness can really drag on a person. The play sets up a scenario where you could really dig into the psychology of longing and exile and the meaning of home, but this being a Greek tragedy, it only flits around the edges, psychology not having been invented yet.

One more thing, it’s really hard to type “Pylades” over and over and not “Pilates.” I’ve never done Pilates but I am sure there are plenty of people in the world who have and wouldn’t mind seeing Pilates sacrificed in the Temple of Artemis. But then that would be an entirely different story.

Filed under: Ancient Greece, Books, Plays, Reviews Tagged: Euripides, Greek tragedy, Where is Tauris anyway?, You say Pilates I say Pylades

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In his playwriting blog, "The Producer's Perspective," Broadway producer, Ken Davenport, shared his thoughts and dispensed some advice to aspiring playwrights. In particular his contention that "new-er" playwrights over-write their plays.

This caught my attention and got me thinking about my own plays and whether they are over-written. Perhaps (speculation number gazillion) this could be yet another reason and rationalization why my plays have yet to see a stage.

Not just long, Ken shared in the blog, but too wordy (my interpretation). There is a tendency to write too much to ensure that the audience grasps what the playwright is attempting to put across.

The problem from my perspective is that it's difficult to know how much is too much.  I've strived to keep physical direction to a minimum and to focus upon the dialogue and more importantly, the story line. So if indeed I'm guilty of over-writing, it's difficult to ascertain if and where the edits should be made, having edited various parts incessantly over time.

Contributed my two-cents-worth to the topic in the form of a comment, "frequently, we never hear back again as to whether a play is over-written or whatever else is wrong." As I've frequently bemoaned and shared that the submission process more often than not results in never hearing anything back, period.

On one occasion and to a theatre's credit, part of its commitment to playwriting, a submission resulted in a complete analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of the play, including suggestions as to changes that would strengthen its overall quality. How refreshing.

In the end, it's a waiting game dependent upon hope that someone, somewhere, will see the potential. Perhaps - pure speculation (again) on my part - over-writing is involved or maybe it's a case of under-writing. Go know.

Meanwhile, here's the coordinates to sign up for Ken Davenport's blog: https://www.theproducersperspective.com/welcome-to-the-producers-perspective-forum

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Nothing really new to report but for anybody keeping up with the score so far - zero-zero - for the playwright.

Really (she wrote emphasizing the really) made a concerted effort to submit my literary gems (at least in my eyes they are) to various theatres and related opportunities. Received a response from perhaps one with the usual form letter: "Dear Playwright." At least an effort could have been made to address our kind by our given name. I mean, if I'm going to be given bad news, at least relate it personally to me. Don't you think?

Where was I now...oh yeah. 'Dear Playwright, given the huge response to our call for submissions, unfortunately your play will not be among this year's productions.' There is more blah-blah but in the end - who cares. Right? Guess I should be happy that at least I received a response, be it a negative one.

Once the brain acknowledges a rejection, the questions and doubts start popping up like:

- maybe I shouldn't have done re-write # 7,500
- maybe I'm deluding myself into believing I can write plays
- maybe I should adapt my title to "writer-of-plays-that-are-waiting-for-production"
- maybe I'm living in the wrong country
- maybe I'm using the wrong font - that has to be it. Right?
- what happens if I run out of theatres in which to submit?
- what happens if I'm submitting to the same theatres having forgotten to note the lucky recipients?

And so they continue, those insidious doubts that show up in the quiet of the night, filling the mind of the writer-of-plays-that-are-waiting-for- production with doubt and bewilderment. Know what I mean?

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William Shakespeare's The Phantom of Menace. Ian Doescher. 2015. Quirk Books. 176 pages. [Source: Review copy]

I really liked reading Ian Doescher's William Shakespeare's The Phantom of Menace. Is it my favorite of the series? I'm not sure I can honestly say that though I enjoyed it. What I liked best about The Phantom of Menace was the role Jar-Jar played in it. I liked how Doescher transformed the character. Yes, some of the movie's dialogue remains. Jar-Jar on the surface appears as you probably remember. But the reader knows that Jar-Jar is playing a game, and that he's manipulating things actually. It is too his advantage to appear clumsy and stupid and obnoxious.

I found The Phantom of Menace to be a quick read. I read the play in just two days. I found myself enjoying the writing and the illustrations. Even if you're not a fan of the movie, you may enjoy this one.

Jar Jar A man approacheth, cloth'd in Jedi garb.
Belike this man brings aid unto Naboo
Such as will help my people and my land.
Mayhap this is the chance I have desir'd!
For I have wander'd lo these many months
A'thinking o'er this planet's dreary fate:
Two peoples separated by their fear
And prejudice, which e'er doth make us shirk
From giving help unto each other. Aye,
It may be that the only hope for us
To be united is to realize
That our two fates are tightly knit as one.
Perchance this Jedi, follow'd by these droids,
Doth bring the words to break our deep mistrust.
I shall make introduction--in my way--
Portray the part that I have learn'd so well:
It doth befit the human prejudice
To think we Gungans simple, low, and rude.
I shall approach them thusly, yet shall bend
Him to the path that shall assis us all.
Put on thy simple wits now, Jar Jar Binks:
Thus play the role of clown to stoke his pride. (25)

© 2015 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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Somehow - perhaps it's the arrival of Spring and all that it promises - one anticipates updates as to the fate of one's (mine of course) literary send-outs. More specifically and to put it in simply and succinctly ('that's a lot of sss's, Eleanor'), will any of my plays see a stage this year.

Throughout the year minor dialogue changes were made, a few lines were eliminated or added but for the most part they were sent on their way based on the strength of the story line and characters, to seek their fate. Waiting to receive news about one's plays is comparable, at least for me, to sending your children out to seek their fortune in the jungle of life (feeling very philosophical today) for their own good, if not for the caregiver's good. So they're all "out there" and the wait for any updates is all-consuming wondering and hypothesizing what's happening at the 'other end', so to speak.

"How many more plays are left to be read?" a literary manager might ask a theatre producer and play readers while assessing the amount of plays still waiting to be read  "Seems like there are thousands more waiting to be read."

"We have to narrow it down to just a few promising plays, already," the literary manager will/could/might declare, while checking her/his cell phone for phone messages. "Time is marching on and we have to choose some potential money-makers for the coming season."

"I've come across a promising production," one of the readers could suggest, "although the playwright doesn't have any track record. The play, though, is really a good read."

"Nothing produced, anywhere, in the whole wide world?" the producer would ask of the reader.

"Not according to her biography and CV but really - she's good and this play is and an entertaining read  - really funny!" the reader would affirm.

"Could be problematic if she hasn't got a recognizable name that could sell tickets, though," the literary manager and/or producer would put forward.

"But it's a really good play," the reader would insist. "Why not give her a chance?"

"Not bankable," the literary manager and/or producer would answer, somewhat sadly (one would hope). "File away for future considerations."

Pure speculation on my part but one has to do something waiting for "the word". Then again, depending on what the word is, perhaps ignorance is bliss.

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Thought I'd share some thoughts about submission - of the literary type. As is the case with most playwrights, I'm continually searching the web for possible good fits for my literary babies. They really are like babies given the attention, work and copious amounts of love that go into their creation. As is the case with offspring who reach maturity, there is a point where one has to part with them for their own good - and mine.

Progress has been achieved in the submission process including a rejection letter accompanied by a wonderful critique and evaluation of the submitted play. Theatres that are open to unsolicited submissions must be the recipients of thousands of plays and understandably, responding to playwrights individually isn't practical. It's commendable, therefore, when a theatre takes the time to not only respond to a play submission but actually take the time in writing to point out the plays strengths and weaknesses and make suggestions as to changes that would strengthen the overall story line. Let's say that it was one of the nicest rejections received to date.

Some of my other plays were sent packing to try their luck and as yet there has been no response. As if the playwriting process isn't difficult enough, the waiting period to hear back one way or the other is equally if not more stressful. Frequently, there is no response, which in itself is an indication of their fate.

I'm now taking precautions to e-mail my plays to myself before sending them out to ensure that it is in a readable format for the recipients. This move came about after encountering a problem submitting a play electronically when converting one of the older files to the latest version. Checking to ensure the play was successfully sent, somehow the text ended up in the wrong visual format. After a period of ranting and raving and some hair pulling, literally and figuratively, I decided to re-send in spite of a nagging, internal voice telling me to hold off for a bit. Re-sent it, anyway, accompanied by a two-sentence explanation only to discover the next day upon re-examination that the text somehow had adjusted itself and was visually perfect. Also re-confirmed my belief to always heed that inner voice.

While waiting for news, I'm continuing working on "Dead Writes", a fantasy with some comedic tones combined with interesting moral messages and dilemmas for the characters. Definitely a challenge but one worth meeting. Then again, the act of writing plays is always a challenge, no matter what.

When asked the question of the time it takes to complete a play, I quote the line expressed by Edward Albee: "People often ask me how long it takes me to write a play, and I tell them 'all my life." And then some.

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JustA Theater & Production Company is a new Los Angeles-based company dedicated to fostering and employing diverse and emerging writers and actors.

We are seeking original work for our inaugural 2015 season: three staged play productions and two short films.

We would like to reach out to students in your prestigious program for play and short screenplay submissions. Our starting stipend for writers is $150.

Here are our submission guidelines:

Characters should primarily range between the ages of 15 and 30.

At least two characters must be women.

Diverse themes and characters are encouraged.

We welcome scripts of varied genres. Feel free to submit plays with elements of absurdism or magic-realism, as well as plays rooted in realism.

Staged plays should not exceed 115 pages total.

Screenplays should not exceed 15 pages.

Please submit the first 15 pages of your piece to:

infoATjustatheaterDOTcom (Change AT to @ and DOT to . )
.
For more information, visit our website.

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Trifles. A Play in One Act. Susan Glaspell. 1916. 20 pages. [Source: Read online]

Who killed John Wright? Was it his wife? If it was, what was her motive? If it wasn't, how could she have possibly slept through her husband's murder? Wouldn't someone entering their bedroom and slipping a rope around his neck and killing have woken her up? It doesn't help that there was no signs of forced entry. Mrs. Wright is in custody when the play opens. A handful of people are at the crime scene: three men and two women. (County Attorney, Sheriff, Mrs. Peters (the sheriff's wife, Mr. Hale (who reported the murder), and Mrs. Hale. The men, of course, are looking for evidence and facts and something to make a story of. The women, on the other hand, are "merely" looking at "trifles." They've come to pick up a few things to take Mrs. Wright. She's asked for her apron, among other things. She's also most concerned about her preserves--with good reason.

At the start of the play, the focus is on the crime. Plenty of facts uncovered by Hale and the Sheriff and the County Attorney. But the women don't follow the men upstairs to the bedroom to the scene of the actual crime. They remain below, and that is where the focus remains. Let the men do the hard work of crime-solving, right?

Much is revealed in Trifles. There is a good reason why the short story adaptation was titled "Jury of Her Peers." 

The play is great--very interesting and quite memorable. I am not going to share the details in my review because this one is best read unspoiled.


© 2015 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

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What an amazing play is Medea by Euripides. I read an edition from 2006 translated by the poet Michael Collier and the Greek scholar Georgia Machemer. Machemer also wrote a fantastic introduction. Of all the introductions to all the Greek plays I’ve read over the last several years, this one is hands down the best. What was so good about it? It provided context for the play without trotting out all the usual tired historical droning that usually makes its way into these kinds of introductions. The context provided was specific to this play itself and what was going on in Athens during the time it was produced, what the audience would have known and expected, how they would have probably reacted when their expectations were challenged, and what they would have known and how they would have felt about Euripides himself.

For instance, even though the songs Euripides wrote for his choruses were popular and sung all over town, the playwright and plays themselves often unsettled audiences. Euripides was schooled by the Sophists who were foreigners to Athens, had unnerving theories about the nature of things and could deftly argue either side of an issue. They stirred things up. Euripides didn’t let them down.

Medea opens with Medea’s nurse coming on stage. Today we would think nothing of this, but then, this was shocking. Not only was it a woman giving the opening monologue of the play but a servant who was an old slave of a “barbarian” princess. When you expect a highborn man or a god to walk out for the opening monologue, this move is quite astonishing and right off sets you reeling.

And then the play itself. A woman carries it and not just any woman. Medea is a priestess of Hecate, she has immense knowledge of the healing arts as well as potions that kill. She is from a foreign country. And she speaks throughout with the rhetorical skill of a man, scheming, tricking, deceiving to save her own honor instead of submitting to the will of her husband like a good and proper wife should. After seeing this play the men in the audience, and the audience would have been almost all men, would have been shaking in their sandals for fear of the power that a woman might wield. I could also hope that some of them left the theatre with a bit more respect for their wives but that might be hoping too much.

This play would have resonated with Athenians on a different level too. Athens had recently passed a law that said foreign-born wives could not be citizens nor could any of their offspring. This law effectively disinherited any children born from such a marriage. As a result, many men divorced their wives and married Greek ones instead. So when Jason leaves Medea for the daughter of King Creon, the men of Athens watching this play got an extra dose of discomfort.

There is an interesting note in the text of my edition of the play that says a good many scholars believe Euripides invented Medea killing her children, that prior to this play, the story did not include their deaths. So why did she have to kill them? Medea needed to destroy Jason for his betrayal and the best way to destroy him is to destroy his whole family. Thus Medea kills Jason’s new wife with poisoned gifts and Creon in rushing to her aid is also poisoned by he deadly robes. The children could not be left alive as heirs nor after killing the king and his daughter could Medea leave the children alive to likely be killed my an angry mob. So she does the deed. She almost couldn’t. Can you blame her? The gods do not punish her for killing her children because her act was honorable vengeance against a man who betrayed both her and the gods who had given him Medea to help him escape with the Golden Fleece.

Medea gets to exit in a golden sun chariot with the corpses of her children after she curses Jason. And we all known Jason dies a sad and ruined man, killed when his famous ship, the Argo, falls on his head while he is beneath it repairing its keel.

Medea, of course, has some marvelous speeches in this play. One of my favorite passages happens when she is talking to the chorus who are all women:

But I’ve been talking as if our lives
are the same. They’re not. You are Corinthians
with ancestral homes, childhood friends,
while I, stripped of that already,
am now even more exposed by Jason’s cruelties.
Remember how I came here, a war bride,
plundered from my country, an orphan?
Now who’s obligated to shelter me? Not you,
I know. As you watch my plans for justice unfold,
keep them secret, that’s all I ask. I’ve never felt
this threatened nor fearless: men win their battles
on the field but women are ruthless when the bed
becomes the battleground. We’ve lain
in our own blood before…and have survived.

In the face of Medea, Jason comes off sounding like a greedy, petulant boy whining about how Medea isn’t being reasonable in accepting the crumbs he is reluctantly offering so he looks like a good man and doesn’t feel guilty. Why he is so surprised that this powerful woman throws it all back in his face and calls him on his betrayal is the real surprise.

The sad thing though in the end, in spite of Medea triumphing over Jason and being carried away to Athens in a chariot of the sun (he’s a relative), she has lost everything too. She will have protection in Athens, but she has no home, no friends, no children. She wins by losing and that is the biggest tragedy of all.

Filed under: Ancient Greece, Books, Plays, Reviews Tagged: Euripides

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Right now, people reading this are probably saying to themselves, "Eleanor hasn't given us any updates on her plays. I'd love to know how things are going with her." Okay - maybe the last sentence is a bit presumptuous on my part but maybe there are persons 'out there' who are curious.

Actually, I've been focusing a lot of my effort searching for a new literary address for my "babies." This includes cyber queries as to whether they would be welcome, to be followed by the actual execution (sounds so macabre) of hitting the 'send' key taking the plays on their cyber journeys. Waiting to receive news and/or updates on their suitability is stressful especially since theatres frequently restrict their responses to playwrights with plays in which they have an interest. It somehow doesn't seem logical to send a follow up if, say, there has been no response for a lengthy period of time. Then again, perhaps a reminder could be helpful:


"Dear blah-blah,

You might not remember me but five years ago (maybe more), I submitted my play to you/your theater/your literary manager. Having never heard back, I'm wondering if perhaps you never received it or somehow, it got deleted in your files (these things happen). Let me know if you'd like me to re-send the play and I'd be happy to oblige.

Yours in waiting,

Eleanor
(P.S. I'd very much appreciate it if you could advise me as to which play I sent you, since my cat did a dance on my keyboard and lost many of my files).


In as far as the plays themselves, I'm reviewing the content of "Retribution" with the intent of submitting it to an interesting competition. At the half-way point, I've made some minor changes but still very pleased with the overall content. The subject matter definitely isn't for everybody but the play itself  is a riveting drama.

Haven't read "Old Soldiers" since receiving the rejection advisement notice a few months ago. I had a gut feeling that it was on its way but it didn't make its reception any easier. A bit of ranting and raving occurred for a day or two followed by avowing to re-write. Thing is with rejection notices, rarely is there an accompanying explanation as to the reasons for the refusal, consequently there is always the nagging question as to why and what went wrong. In any case, time for a re-evaluation and the dastardly re-write(s) that will follow. It will require a complete overhaul having been written for radio and we'll have to see whether it's even feasible to turn it into a play. Some characters will have to be dropped in addition to scene changes and adaptations.

The newest playwriting project, "Storm Warning" is on the front burner. I've completed four scenes and I'm thinking some character sketches are required to define the purpose of everyone and where they fit into the story line.

One of my oldie but definitely good play, "Dead Writes" parts of which I've shared here in this blog, requires finishing. Actually, it needs a middle before it can be ended. A comedy, the play has been started and abandoned a number of times. Maybe not "abandoned" since this implies finality. Let's say - put to rest in cyber space for periods.  No particular reason other than I became distracted with other projects.

Finally, I'm toying with idea of writing a play based on a young teenage girl and her experiences growing up in the 1960's, while attending high school. Let's just say it's something I know about intimately. First though it back to work on Old Soldiers...maybe Dead Writes should be a priority since it's an older play...then again, Storm Warning is a fun challenge... Procrastination thy name is Eleanor.

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Perhaps it's the result of the ending of summer and the arrival of autumn, but it's play submission mode time. Somehow, the summer heat plus the sun shining down prompts the brain to enter into a state of lethargy, at least it does mine. All this is to say or write that now it's time to actively seek out homes for my literary 'babies."

Before the actual act of hitting the key that will send them off to parts unknown, they've been receiving a once-twice-and more evaluation for any necessary changes or modifications. Frequently, this assessment results in a re-examination of a/some play(s) followed by muttering of bad words, the end result of which is yet more revisions. Some of the plays have been updated to the point where it's difficult to recognize the original story line and conduct an objective assessment as to which version works best.

So where is all this sharing of inner angst and trepidation leading you may well be asking yourself. Came across a competition for a ten-minute play with the focus being "The Urban Jungle." A while back I wrote a piece entitled, "Waiting for Roach" featuring the end result of a meeting up of a young punk-mode adult male and a female senior citizen, which will work perfectly. The play-ette as I call short offerings, has never been submitted anywhere before having waited for the right occasion and right opportunity to share it with the world, or at least with the people running the competition.

In addition, I decided to share one of my favorite plays, "Neighbors" now re-named "The Shrubs" with a theatre. Upon reflection and somewhat interesting, this two-act play started out as a short 10-minute play as many of them do. After years of ignoring it for the most part, I was scanning over some of the file titles and this play jumped out at me. Somehow, in the shorter version, something seemed to be lacking and after reading it through, a story began to develop resulting in a re-working and its development into a full play. In any case, it has left home with my best wishes and hopes not to mention prayers, that others will enjoy the contents as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Meanwhile, my wedding play, "Make Me a Wedding" has also taken a few cyber trips. A comedy, this was my first endeavor in playwriting and my favorite but then I say that about all my plays. It was almost performed a while back but had to be abandoned due to a breakdown in the production. Let's just say that the undertaking was akin to "Noises Off" and leave it at that. To get back to the play, it elicits laughter every time I read it through and I do frequently. Here's hoping.

Last but certainly not least, my second-favorite play, "Gin: an Allegory for Playing the Game of Life" is still seeking new digs as they say. A comedy, the two-act play focuses on the long-time friendship of three women who discuss their lives and those of people their lives touch upon, during their weekly card game. When writing plays, I always envision the actors who would best suit the various roles and today decided that Barbra Streisand, "the" famous singer/actress would be ideal for the role of Becky. Barbra if you're reading this, the role is yours for the taking when it finds a new home.

It all starts with a dream and if you're gonna dream, you have to dream big. Barbra would understand.

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Sun & Sandstone, a national literary journal of undergraduate writing published annually by Rocky Mountain College, is now accepting submissions for its 2015 issue. Publishable genres include poetry, creative nonfiction, short fiction, and one act plays.

For complete submission guidelines, please visit our website.

Deadline: February 28, 2015

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I finished reading King Lear over the weekend. I can definitely say I enjoy reading it before seeing it acted best. Having read the first three acts before seeing the play and the final two after, I find that my play viewing experience interfered with my reading in a negative way. I was surprised by that and can only compare it to the experience of seeing the movie before reading the book it was based on.

When you get to the book, everything is colored by the movie. And so as I was reading the final two acts, I kept trying to remember how it was acted in the production, tried to read the words as if the actors were speaking them. This does not work at all. And then of course, I noticed that the production was slightly different in places than the text. Nothing big, only small changes that made the play work better on the stage. I’m sure there were probably differences between the text and the way the first three acts were produced too but I didn’t notice what they might have been while I was watching the play. Curious how text and production interact and the timing of reading affects it all so much.

That said, I very much like King Lear. I read it once before in a college class. I have underlinings and penciled notes in my creased Signet Classic paperback. I must say I found myself laughing at some of the notes. I probably wrote them during class discussion. Some of them make no sense whatsoever, though at the time they probably did. Still others are such obvious statements that I wonder why I even felt the need to write them down. It was all very amusing.

One of the big plusses of reading a play, a text that is meant to be performed, is the ability to stop, to linger, to puzzle out, turn back, reread, and simply pause to appreciate. Live performances don’t have pause or rewind buttons and you can only go barreling along in one direction. But as a reader I am in control. That control allowed me to really enjoy what is a most excellent insult made by Kent to Oswald:

A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats;
a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave;
a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing,
superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting
slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in
way of good service, and art nothing but the composition
of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and
the son and heir of a mongrel bitch, one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining if thou deniest the
least syllable of thy addition.

That just flies by on stage and my only reaction was wow, what that was an insult. But in reading it I can get the full flavor which leads to a deep appreciation. I know there are books of Shakespearean insults. I hope this one is included.

And then there is the scene where Gloucester loses his eyes. Loses his eyes? As if they fall out of their own accord and roll about on the floor. No, they are gouged out and Cornwall has this glorious, gruesome line:

Out, vile jelly. Where is they luster now?

And then there are the lines that, because they are in a version of English we no longer speak, bounce off and leave no impression. But when you come upon them in reading, there is a helpful footnote to assist in puzzling it out. Like Regan late in the play telling Edmund:

I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
And bosomed with her, as far as we call hers.

I don;t even recall this line in the play. But reading it, Regan reveals she is concerned that Edmund and her sister Goneril are doing some hanky-panky but she is trying to be contemptuous and reassure herself at the same time, Edmund loves her, Regan, he and Goneril would never. Then there is the delightfully helpful footnote:

I fear that you have united with her intimately, in the fullest possible way

More than Shakespeare’s line I love this footnote! It makes me laugh every time I read it. Hey footnote writer, just come out and say it, Regan is worried Edmund and Goneril had sex! Shakespeare can be pretty raunchy so the delicacy in explaining this line is hilarious. Of course, there isn’t much in the way of ribaldry in Lear, but still.

I believe next time I pick up a Shakespeare play it will be Corilianus, one I have neither read nor seen acted before. But before that happens I have Euripides’ Medea to look forward to.

Filed under: Books, Plays, Reviews, Shakespeare

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The East Carolina University English Department has created the Bill Hallberg Award for Creative Writing, a rotating genre prize open to undergraduate writers who attend universities in NC, TN, VA, and SC. This year, the award of $500 will be given for two one-act plays or a full length play.

A staged reading of the play(s) will be performed at East Carolina University with the playwright attending (expenses paid.)

Submissions must be accompanied by a letter of recommendation from an instructor at the student's school.

DEADLINE: November 15, 2014. NOTIFICATION: January, 2015. PERFORMANCE: Mid March, 2015.

Send entries electronically to Robert Siegel:

siegelrATecuDOTedu (Change At to @ and DOT to . )

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Yesterday Bookman and I went to Edina Cinema just a short jaunt from our house to see an encore screening of King Lear performed by the National Theatre in London. And what a performance it was!

I tried to finish reading the play on Saturday but only made it up to act three. Still, a good way in and well past the early confusion part of figuring out who is who and who is scheming to do what. So viewing the performance I was able to just leap right in and know what was going on from the outset which was nice.

The set was fairly bare which I liked. I’ve seen some elaborate Shakespeare sets before and I much prefer a more minimal approach. And the costuming and props appeared to set the play in the late 1940s to early 1950s and it worked really well.

Simon Russell Beale as Lear was fantastic. Towards the end when Lear comes out carrying the dead Cordelia his cry of anguish was so real it brought tears to my eyes. But really the whole cast was marvelous. A play is a group effort and even a phenomenal actor can be dragged down by a so-so cast and an uncreative director. In short, I feel like I got more than I paid for.

They showed some previews for upcoming performances and I was so very excited to see that they will be doing Medea in September. I really want to go and see that one!

I plan on finishing my reading of the play, no sense at stopping now because just as having read part of it helped me enjoy the performance more, having seen the performance will help bring the play to life as I read it.

Looking back over what I have written it is clear I’m not very good at writing about performances. Suffice it to say, if you have a chance to go see a National Theatre performance in you local cinema, go! You won’t be disappointed.

Filed under: Plays

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April 10, 2015 will mark the 90th anniversary of the publication of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald — a book that many people believe is the best novel of all time. To celebrate the occasion, we are planning ahead — and getting started with our latest anthology: The Silver Birch Press The Great Gatsby Anthology, a collection of poetry, prose, art, collage, photography, and other work that celebrates this remarkable novel.

WHAT: Poetry, prose, paintings, drawings, photographs, and other work inspired by The Great Gatsby. 

TYPES OF WRITTEN MATERIAL:
Poems (up to three — either original work or found/erasure poetry based on The Great Gatsby)
Short stories (up to 2,000 words)
Essays (up to 1,500 words)
Creative nonfiction (up to 2,000 words)
Short plays or screenplays (approximately 5 typed pages)
Other literary forms (up to 2,000 words)

TYPES OF VISUAL MATERIAL (send jpg files of approximately 1MB):
Photographs
Collage
Paintings
Drawings

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: September 1, 2014 

RELEASE DATE: April 2015 

HOW TO SUBMIT: Please email written entries as MSWord attachments and visual entries as a jpg attachments to:

silverATsilverbirchpressDOTcom (Change AT to @ and DOT to . )

along with your name, mailing address, email address, and one-paragraph bio. (If submitting an erasure poem, provide the edition and publication date.)

PAYMENT: All participants will receive a copy of the Silver Birch Press Great Gatsby Anthology.

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