Well, my life is all Shakespeare, all the time right now. I cannot believe I am blogging, but then again, yes I can. My brain has been activated, and it is in overdrive. I'm living on coffee and adrenaline and am high on symbolism right now.
Because a few of you have asked (and there might possibly be a few with whom I haven't shared this riveting story), here is the shortest explanation as to why I, at forty, am taking college courses:
I am returning to the high school classroom to teach Senior English. Part of that job is offering Dual Enrollment English to seniors so they can knock out some basic composition courses. In order to be certified to teach these collegiate-level courses, I need more graduate hours in English.
This is why I now find myself enrolled in a whirlwind four-week course on Shakespeare's Tragedies. Yes, this is one of the courses my wonderful Edie of Dear Miss Moreau fame takes in her inaugural semester as a graduate student, though thankfully I am enjoying this course more than she enjoys hers. Admittedly she is preoccupied with her American Novel professor who broods and is mysterious and beautiful, and so we forgive her indifference to Shakespeare's Tragedies.
It rained this evening. After the rain, I went outside and walked. At first, for about an hour, I walked hard as in for the purpose of exercising. Then I meandered. I took this.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purg'd.
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
You kiss by the book.
Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.