Hamlet by William Shakespeare
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I've probably seen this live 3 times, seen several movie versions including Mel Gibson (oddly enough, the most memorable for me, being the first,) and I've read the play going on what, 5 times now?
The play is not a question of either suicide or futility for me. I'm right there in the heart of it, fighting depression with seeming madness and a fistful of righteous anger and I'm even expressing the utmost futility of language, itself, with the master of the English language, when I scream to the heavens, "Words! Words! Words!"
I freak out with the martial aspect, I cry with the conflict of love and futility and rage, and I laugh at the horribly nasty trick with the traveling troupe.
I admit this is one of my absolute favorite plays.
So here's the weird bit. My 9-year-old wanted to read Shakespeare instead of a more age-appropriate book, and I looked at her like she was MAD. I told her that everyone dies a horrible death. She says, COOL. I say it's all about REVENGE and Suicide/Murder and she says, COOL.
And then I remembered when I was nine and I had to give the hell up. OF COURSE I DID.
And we read it together, or rather, I performed with voices and she did the easy parts and we watched one of the movies to help us along and in general I think we had a great time. I think nothing says bonding better than revenge. At the very least, she got to see her daddy make an utter fool of himself.
Oohh! A palpable hit!
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