/lit/ - Literature

Why do we get a slew of new Shakespeare movies every year?
Why don't other playwrights receive such treatment?
Are his plays really that good/universal/poignant?
Is it merely name recognition since everyone in the English-speaking world is force-fed Shakespeare in high school?

PS: it was really good

Me.

>>16446782
kek

>>16445373
I'm decent at it

pic related. is me

>>16446403
>Lord Berners
Haven't read him.
Thanks for bringing it to my attention

I thought it was a troll.

R.I.P John Green

>>16444125
>>16444076
>>16444025
Okae but what is wrong with us miring the fizeek of hot men? BAP is literallie Daddy.
You will svbmit nerds. No one cares about ur stoopid language rulez, we out here Dom'ing and all Subs admire and worship us!
Poast fizeeks, I want to see your bodies so bad right now
p.s. we a NOT midwits, but Topwits and we belong togetha

>>16438782
>>16438793
fuck I just realized I want that; it's so wholesome!

>>16438463
thank you)
no one replied here so I had to resort to posting it in other threads too

Amid grandees of times Elizabethan
you shimmered too, you followed sumptuous customs;
the circle of ruff, the silv’ry satin that
encased your thigh, the wedgelike beard – in all of this
you were like other men … Thus was enfolded
your godlike thunder in a succinct cape.

Haughty, aloof from theater’s alarums,
you easily, regretlessly relinquished
the laurels twining into a dry wreath,
concealing for all time your monstrous genius
beneath a mask; and yet, your phantasms’ echoes
still vibrate for us: your Venetian Moor,
his anguish; Falstaff’s visage, like an udder
with pasted-on mustache; the raging Lear …
You are among us, you’re alive; your name, though,
your image, too – deceiving, thus, the world –
you have submerged in your beloved Lethe.
It’s true, of course, a usurer had grown
accustomed, for a sum, to sign your work
(that Shakespeare – Will – who played the Ghost in Hamlet,
who lived in pubs, and died before he could
digest in full his portion of a boar’s head) …

The frigate breathed, your country you were leaving.
To Italy you went. A female voice
called singsong through the iron’s pattern,
called to her balcony the tall inglese,
grown languid from the lemon-tinted moon
amid Verona’s streets. My inclination
is to imagine, possibly, the droll
and kind creator of Don Quixote
exchanging with you a few casual words
while waiting for fresh horses – and the evening
was surely blue. The well behind the tavern
contained a pail’s pure tinkling sound … Reply –
whom did you love? Reveal yourself – whose memoirs
refer to you in passing? Look what numbers
of lowly, worthless souls have left their trace,
what countless names Brantôme has for the asking!
Reveal yourself, god of iambic thunder,
you hundred-mouthed, unthinkably great bard!

No! At the destined hour, when you felt banished
by God from your existence, you recalled
those secret manuscripts, fully aware
that your supremacy would rest unblemished
by public rumor’s unashamèd brand,
that ever, midst the shifting dust of ages,
faceless you’d stay, like immortality
itself – then, in the distance, smiling, vanished.

>>16436595
bump

>>16436611
bump

>>16436578
Do you think he knew about Edward De Vere?

>>16432416
>Men on the other hand, you cannot even begin to grasp us.
gay

Amid grandees of times Elizabethan
you shimmered too, you followed sumptuous customs;
the circle of ruff, the silv’ry satin that
encased your thigh, the wedgelike beard – in all of this
you were like other men … Thus was enfolded
your godlike thunder in a succinct cape.

Haughty, aloof from theater’s alarums,
you easily, regretlessly relinquished
the laurels twining into a dry wreath,
concealing for all time your monstrous genius
beneath a mask; and yet, your phantasms’ echoes
still vibrate for us: your Venetian Moor,
his anguish; Falstaff’s visage, like an udder
with pasted-on mustache; the raging Lear …
You are among us, you’re alive; your name, though,
your image, too – deceiving, thus, the world –
you have submerged in your beloved Lethe.
It’s true, of course, a usurer had grown
accustomed, for a sum, to sign your work
(that Shakespeare – Will – who played the Ghost in Hamlet,
who lived in pubs, and died before he could
digest in full his portion of a boar’s head) …

The frigate breathed, your country you were leaving.
To Italy you went. A female voice
called singsong through the iron’s pattern,
called to her balcony the tall inglese,
grown languid from the lemon-tinted moon
amid Verona’s streets. My inclination
is to imagine, possibly, the droll
and kind creator of Don Quixote
exchanging with you a few casual words
while waiting for fresh horses – and the evening
was surely blue. The well behind the tavern
contained a pail’s pure tinkling sound … Reply –
whom did you love? Reveal yourself – whose memoirs
refer to you in passing? Look what numbers
of lowly, worthless souls have left their trace,
what countless names Brantôme has for the asking!
Reveal yourself, god of iambic thunder,
you hundred-mouthed, unthinkably great bard!

No! At the destined hour, when you felt banished
by God from your existence, you recalled
those secret manuscripts, fully aware
that your supremacy would rest unblemished
by public rumor’s unashamèd brand,
that ever, midst the shifting dust of ages,
faceless you’d stay, like immortality
itself – then, in the distance, smiling, vanished.

>>16120792
Slowly

>>16120387
>5) please try retrieving cardenio from your memory
I wish I could but I only supplied the lines, the plotting was Fletcher's domain. We wrote in a sort of frenzy and the play itself was nothing worth remembering. There were few memorable scenes, one involved the embalming of a horse which Cardenio believed was Rocinate. I remember Fletcher saying that he chose this character because he represented all that was "morally abhorrent" in Don Quixote. Whether he was criticizing or celebrating I will never know but he did borrow more plot lines from it so I take that comment as a positive.

>>16120395
God knows I tried humility. Thank you for this anon.
>>16120387
>1)Would you say that the character of John Falstaff is a avatar of at least some of your sensibilities? I find his wit to be of similar merit often ascribed to you, there’s also the name which is I think one of the many examples of your wordplay. Shake-spear. Fall-staff
Yes. I wrote Falstaff for the audiences but his humor came from within. Our work lives and dies by its merits and if it be too dour and rough then the audiences create preconceived notions that might put a damper on finances. X is a writer of comedies but tragedies are more fashionable these days so Y seems like a nicer alternative. The goal is to write a considerable amount so that audiences will be kept entertained for as long as possible. I challenged the best of what I found in my community and gave it to Falstaff. The wit and boisterous was supplied by Malrowe and Jonson. His attacks and the faults of his character I attribute to
Robert Greene. There might be other great man but their names escape me. I hope my answer was satisfying.
>2)would you describe yourself as having nihilistic or platonistic/gnostic sensibilities? I noticed while reading Henry the IV part 2 and hamlet that there is a stated quotes of “turning the solid into air and dissipating from existence”.
No, when I wrote those plays I was not in the proper state of mind. Sometimes I was swept away by the reality of my circumstances which(perhaps implicitly) informed the tone of my plays. Hamlet I wrote as elegy for my son. Having gone through the sorrows of losing a child and of knowing that as a son I could not amount to much, the situation and its succeeding sadness forced itself upon me when I wrote those lines. When one is deeply entrenched into the psychology of a character, one forgoes his own notions and beliefs
>3) how did you actually die and why did you give your wife the second best bed?
I'm still with you anon, I never left. The second best bed was a token of my love. Knowing our children she would be reimbursed for her troubles so a will was only a formality. Our secret passions and desires, those things that only we share with our loved ones, that's what the second best bed represents. A bed is used only for two things (the third is only when a special occasion arises)
>4) what are your thoughts on your biggest fanboy Harold bloom
I am glad he likes me but as I've said before, rumors of my brilliance have been greatly exaggerated. My time was a special one, never will we see something like that again.

>>16119761
I knew anon but understand this, I wrote poetry in an age where it was both profitable and sought after. The ones that came after me did not have this privilege and those who did (Goethe) did not write in a language as popular as English. How many brilliant men have we glossed over simply because we do not speak their language?
We know Rumi, We know Al-Mutanabbī , We know Imru’ al-Qais but they are not taught in our schools and they have not received the attention they deserve. My place in the canon has been deserved but if Arabic or Chinese was the lingua franca of the world perhaps I would not have been as revered as I am now. As it is, I have much to offer and I did write in the most popular of languages but my status as example of genius should be considered more thoroughly.

>>16119494
She forced me impregnate her. Good woman
>>16119532
I think I know who you're talking about. The sentiment I found touching but you must understand that both him and his disciple would occasionally go into these flights of fancy that would fail to address the numerous flaws with the object in question.
Tyndale, Florio, Spenser, Golding, North and Lyly have far superior qualities but the work that they have produced may have fallen out of favor with general public. My good fortune was that I worked for a fluctuating market and was able to produce a healthy amount of plays because of it, but we mustn't not forget luck. My good friend Marlowe died just before he was touched by brilliance. We will never know what magic he was capable of because of his early departure. Jonson wrote by feeling not by heart which meant he would often celebrate his inadequacies so his characters would be subservient to his verse. Kyd had been tortured and died shortly after his wounds and Spencer wrote in allegory with language obscure and in keeping with the intellect. All these men possessed a quality far better to me but some left us early and other worked where their talents were celebrated. This is perhaps the only difference. I can't be a king when my subjects are far superior in both intellect and knowledge and the ones that came after me, Browne and Taylor I feel aren't celebrated enough.
>>16119551
I doubt he practiced religion. As for me, I believe in the Lord and Jesus Christ.

>>16119397
I don't owe you anything sir
>>16119439
Reminded me of the stories Florio used to tell from Matteo Bandello
>>16119442
Why does everyone keep asking me that?

>>16119248
>why didn't you own any books?
I did own books but I donated all but my Ovid and Bible to the nearby grammar schools
>why didn't you ever travel to italy despite being obsessed with it?
Italy makes for a fashionable locale for playwrights because it houses all sorts of characters and because the common public is not accustomed to the reality of those stereotypes, they can neither confirm nor deny their existence. There's another reason too but I trust you know all about it, if not go back to why a play like Edward II caused me so much problems.
>why didn't you teach your children to read or write?
My wife realizing that even after my great learning only amounted to petty scribble maker realized that was no point. Hamnet was schooled but Judith and Susanna were girls and their allegiance was to their home. There were little opportunities for even educated women to seek work so it was more important to have them work on their land and marry into a good family.
>why are you taking credit for Edward de Vere's work?
Uh huh
>>16119252
Entertaining theory but hogwash, good to see I'm venerated never thought it was a possibility.
>>16119272
No, it seems interesting.
I've never looked down upon another human being. Remember anon I was to go to Oxford but my father's ruin crushed my chances. You're only a mid-wit when you think of yourself as someones better. My conversations with Marlowe and Jonson proved that learning is no substitute for wit and cunning and that natural wisdom cannot be found in learning.
>>16119278
You must provide me with a source sir
>>16119293
Sir Thomas Urquhart's Translation of Rabelais and Benito Cereno by Herman Melville

>>16119132
Also to answer your question, its either Hamlet or The Winter's Tale. Hamlet for obvious reasons but Winter's Tale is my autobiography. The sweetest of all gifts would come to me at the end of my years where I would retire content and resolved. Much of the play was inspired by different episodes in my life, the unfortunate luck of my parents and the tragic death of my son. Fearing that God had forsaken me I was unable to perform my duties as His servant properly. The comfort accorded to me in my later years dispelled that notion. I hope you can forgive me for the bad formatting, I'm still not used to this technology and standardized spelling.
>>16119199
It was supposed to be all encompassing, but because the Prince was in a fit of fury so clarification is not that important. The appeal to emotion loses its flavor when made concise
>>16119216
All in good fun Anonymous

>>16119132
I did a great many odd jobs during (what Wikipedia labels as) my lost years. From a print-makers apprentice to a cleric. My encounter with Sir Thomas Lucy was greatly exaggerated however. After I was caught poaching, I was asked to explain my actions. After I gave my apology, Mr. Lucy, clearly moved offered me a position in the clergy. The sermons I heard in churches would later inform my abilities in oratory and rhetoric.
>>16119134
Amusing but I am no match for Francis. His mind has always communed with the stars.
>>16119154
Yes, why do you ask?