"Why Shakespeare? Because it's 2016" | Stephen Brown

September 25th, 2016 at 1:05:46 PM permalink
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
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Emphasis is on the fact that for centuries people said they "heard" a play. They didn't see a play or read a play.
Shakespeare was very good at woman's parts even though no woman played a part on stage until half a century after his death.
September 25th, 2016 at 2:36:30 PM permalink
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They probably said heard for so long
because there wasn't that much to see.
Nobody put on lavish shows, it wasn't
about costumes and sets. It was about
the actors delivery, and the sounds of
their voices. I imagine the costumes
were quite mundane, more to set the
mood than anything else.
If you take a risk, you may lose. If you never take a risk, you will always lose.
September 25th, 2016 at 7:04:37 PM permalink
Member since: Oct 24, 2012
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Posts: 9885
There weren't any lavish shows, but also you didn't have similar dialogue in anything written in the last few hundred years. Juliet's monologue is that of a 14 year old girl who is anticipating losing her virginity, but is delivered by a young boy because puritans didn't think it was proper to have a woman on a stage.

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner
As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.