A Mid-Burmese-Lesson's Dream

Two years ago I took a summer course in Burmese language at the Southeast Asian Studies Summer Institute in Wisconsin. It was great, but in the intervening two years my fledgling Burmese skills have deteriorated sharply, due to me not keeping up with my studies and having no one else to talk to in Burmese. So I decided to give myself a quick refresher by listening to Burmese By Ear, an audio course covering all the conversational basics. Everything was fine until we got to Unit Ten. 

Now, given how many of my waking hours are spent thinking about Shakespeare, it's not unheard of for me to hear Shakespearean references where there are none. However, this time it wasn't me. This entire section featured Demetrius, Hermia, Helena and Lysander very politely asking each other what their names were. It was surreal.

And then, of course, I got so distracted by this that I had to listen to the lesson over again, because I wasn't paying attention: I was imagining A Midsummer Night's Dream set in Burma and trying to decide if Bottom would remain an ass or if a water buffalo head would be more appropriate. (Final verdict: he would remain an ass, so as not to infringe on the Bago Nat's territory.)

Operetta Bingo

I am intensely fond of all things Shakespearean, but my first theatrical love was operetta, those fluffy, lyrical stage confections that aren't quite operas but haven't evolved into musicals. My parents took me to a local production of Johann Strauss's Die Fledermaus when I was three years old (I fell asleep in Act 3), followed shortly afterwards by a trip to the Stratford Festival to see their Pirates of Penzance. I was hooked.

Fortunately for me, the Ohio Light Opera is not too long a drive away from my home. Now in its 36th year, OLO's mission is to perform as many random operettas, light operas, comic operas and early musicals as possible. I have been going there for almost my entire life and shall be driving down again this week to get my annual operetta fix. 

To celebrate, I've put together a small bingo sheet covering some of the most common (and beloved) operetta tropes. If you are going to see an operetta anytime soon, print out a copy and take it along. Just please don't shout "BINGO" in the middle of the performance.

The sausage roll song, incidentally, is from Gilbert and Sullivan's The Grand Duke. This will probably not be the last time Gilbert and Sullivan is featured on this blog...

Ira Glass and the History of Shakespearean Criticism

So, as everyone knows, earlier this week NPR radio star Ira Glass ignited a firestorm by daring to voice his opinion about Shakespeare, writing the following tweets:

Unsurprisingly, the pro-Shakespeare crowd has been having a field day with this. As the world's leading (i.e. probably the world's the only) Shakesperean webcomic blogger, I feel obliged to address the matter. So here...

It's like chocolate. Some people don't like chocolate - I think they're crazy, and they don't know what they're missing, but I'm certainly not going to argue with them about it. It's a personal thing. People have been busy disliking Shakespeare for centuries, but Shakespeare is still here. And so is chocolate. I happen to think the world is a better place because both of those things exist, but people are free to disagree with me. 

Basically, my only quarrel with Mr. Glass is the utterly pedestrian terms he uses to attack Shakespeare. "Shakespeare sucks" is such a bland and banal statement when compared to George Bernard Shaw's devastating "it would positively be a relief to me to dig [Shakespeare] up and throw stones at him." If you're going to criticize Shakespeare, do it emphatically and with some flair. 

Blackout

So, I was planning to do a witty piece commenting on the entertaining "Ira Glass thinks Shakespeare sucks" kerfuffle that has been raging across Shakespearean social media accounts, but then the electricity at my house went out. So you have this instead:

20140730-S-Blackout.jpg

In case you're wondering what other Shakespearean quotes work well during power outages, I can also recommend shrieking "Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!" Just be forewarned - this tends to alarm people. 

The Ladies of Angiers, part 3

After spending Monday and Wednesday with the irrepressible Ladies of Angiers, I am sad to finally be saying farewell to them. They don't care. They're too busy boozing it up. 

Well, when we last left the Ladies, they had just fended off yet another attempt by John and Philip to strongarm them into declaring an allegiance...

OK, so somewhere along the way I totally abandoned the actual plot of King John, but never mind. This it how it should have ended. Everyone's much happier this way. Don't argue. 

Thanks to Brigit Wilson, Carmen Grant, and Deidre Gillard-Rowlings for letting me co-opt their Elizabethan alter-egos for a week! 

The Ladies of Angiers, part 2

We follow up my post on Monday with a further look at the scandalous lives of the Ladies of Angiers (Brigit Wilson, Carmen Grant, and Deidre Gillard-Rowlings), liberated from the pages of King John. 

On the left they are gambling with the Earl of Salisbury, while on the right Chatillon is serving them drinks at the poolside. Angiers is clearly the party town of the Loire Valley.

Anyways, here they are, back in King John again for some more negotiations.

I hasten to point out that, apart from the compulsive gambling habit, this comic is, in fact, totally true to the plot of King John, which could be uncharitably subtitled as "The Play Where Not One, But Two Kings Kind Of Act Like Idiots".

We round off the Ladies of Angiers on Friday. Stop by! There will be drinks*.

*There will not be actual drinks.

The Ladies of Angiers, part 1

My position as official/self-appointed Shakespearean internet humorist has given me licence to do things like stalk various Shakespearean actors on social media, under the guise of keeping my finger on the pulse of the Shakespearean zeitgeist. I particularly enjoy the little glimpses they offer into the backstage life of a production. And then sometimes they post things like this:

These are three lovely company members of the Stratford Festival (Brigit Wilson, Carmen Grant, and Deidre Gillard-Rowlings), who, over the past month, have been making the most of their roles as citizens of Angiers in the current candle-lit Original Practices production of King John. Now, I have scoured the text of King John, and nowhere do I find reference to either powder pink mopeds or bowling, so I am forced to admit that the self-styled Ladies of Angiers, despite their sober Elizabethan garb, have strayed rather monumentally from the Original Practices doctrine. However, I think we can all agree that that is to the greater benefit of the world at large.

 

Follow @HOOPOOHEART for the latest Ladies of Angiers adventures. I, meanwhile, have taken the liberty of re-inserting them back into King John...

Join us again on Wednesday for more Ladies of Angiers action!