My daughter's wedding was a wonderful occasion, and as she and her Russian husband enjoy their honeymoon cruise and I literally get my house back in order, I've decided that it's time to dust off my blog and talk about October.In short, it's time for Shakespeare. In my ninth grade honors class, I was a bit apprehensive about exploring the standard freshman mainstay of Romeo and Juliet, as a poll of my students revealed that many of them have at least a passing acquaintance with the play, but they were all so keen on doing that particular piece that I wouldn't wish to quash their enthusiasm. It is a popular choice as a first play to study because the narrative is about teenage love, for the girls, and it has a generous helping of violence for the boys.
I may be trying their patience initially, however, as I will be "setting the table" with background on Shakespeare's plays as poetry, because apart from occasional speeches in prose, the narrative of all the plays is given to us in verse. We will discuss figurative language, of course, but we also will examine the meter, or rhythm of the poetry, as well as how the sound and sights evoked by the language create the Shakespearean "music" of the characters' words.
We will also include in our initial discussions the sonnet form; it pops up with some regularity in Romeo and Juliet, and as the English sonnet (it means "little song") often centers on the subject of love (Shakespeare wrote 154 sonnets not in the context of his plays), it's not surprising to see that form appear in a story about young lovers. We'll also touch on the Italian sonnet and the poetry of Petrarch, the very popular sonneteer, as his tortured, unrequited love for Laura resonates in Romeo's obsession with Rosaline in the opening scenes of the play. Whether his obsession is transferred to Juliet in a healthy or problematic way is an open question that always generates a lively discussion in class.
World literature classes, having completed a study of The Kite Runner, are turning now to The Tempest. It is the last play that Shakespeare wrote (on his own, at least), and is one of those difficult to categorize plays which is called a "romance." In it, Prospero's title has been usurped by his brother while Prospero has had his nose stuck in books about conjuring, and as the play opens he has retreated to an island over which he has magical powers, both good and evil (I think that Lord of the Flies and Lost owe something to this play).
Prospero's daughter Miranda, after 12 years away from civilization, can not remember seeing a human being apart from her father, and of the newly shipwrecked survivors, she exclaims, "O brave new world/That has such people in it!" (V.i.217-218) "Brave" is what we call a "false friend," as the meaning has changed from Shakespeare's day; it meant to his audience "splendid." (From this line of course is ironically derived the title for the science fiction dystopian novel about runaway technology and dehumanization). The Tempest is a play rich in ideas and beautiful language and is not done often enough in schools, I think. But my world literature classes will address that oversight beginning this month.
Finally, if it's Halloween, then it's prime time for the British literature classes to begin experiencing Macbeth, with its deliciously evil witches stirring their cauldron and Banquo's ghost showing up to spoil the party. I've not taught this play in a few years and I'm eager to return to "the Scottish play," so-called because of the alleged curse on it in performance for any who dare say the true name out loud. Rest assured, however, that your students are in no danger, except perhaps from being appalled at Lady Macbeth's nagging of her husband to be a little more pro-active in attaining the Scottish throne.
All in all, we will be busy this month in Verona, on an enchanted island, and in the minds of murderous plotters, courtesy of England's most celebrated dramatist.
