The Amaranthine of Shakespeare

This time I'm branching out from my usual foray into the world of modern storytelling to hark back at the master himself. I'm also going to be completely honest, when it comes to Shakespeare, I'm an unadulterated fangirl, I just can't help myself. I get all tingly just at the thought of something that includes words such as 'thee', 'henceforth' and 'wilt'. A couple of years ago I nearly sold my soul for tickets to Hamlet (It was admittedly not only Hamlet that was the attraction but David Tennant who just happened to have the lead role for the occasion).

'Alas poor Yorrick...that he might answer me'

I'm celebrating Shakespeare today because I've made an investment. A boxed edition, leather bound RSC Complete Works of Shakespeare and I'm feeling rather squee about it. I have already thumbed through the 2000 odd pages. Inhaled the scent that only comes from something that is bound in leather. I've drooled over the imaginative vernacular within. More than anything else I'm eagerly awaiting some time so I can sit down and read each and every piece within. Some of which I'm amazed to find that I'm not familiar with, given my fangirl status, I'm surprised Mr. Shakespeare has penned anything that I haven't heard of. 

'My precious...'

So it is now sitting in plain view in my living room, so I may ogle it every time I walk past. After all Shakespeare deserves nothing less. Plus I'm quite proud of it. So it's got a place where everyone might see it. I'm going to be sorely disappointed the first time someone fails to comment on it. That in my mind is nothing more than an act of heathenism on their part, worthy of miscommunication on mine. 

I suppose all of this really should be leading to why I love Shakespeare so much. I mean my English heritage has imbued me with a fealty to the man I must admit. A love of Shakespeare runs in my blood. To which I now must admit that it is terribly English to worship at the altar which is Shakespeare. That others would see, Dante, say as the better candidate, and perhaps he is. However I shall remain true to my roots and squee over the wonder of Shakespeare's works. 

My love of Shakespeare came at a young age. My mother, who is an unadulterated fangirl about same (this is one of the few things we agree on when it comes to literature) saw benefit in educating me in same. As a result I can remember standing aghast, at about 11, when one girl I knew at the time, said that she hated Shakespeare because she couldn't understand the language. The shock nearly had me bowled over, and I was tempted to make a snarky comment back about being nothing more than a plebian, but it seemed uncalled for. Given everything she probably wouldn't have know what 'plebian' meant. 

'Did my heart love til now...'

What I couldn't understand about this was how such magnificent works could be cast aside purely by a fear of the language. Shakespeare's English may not be common vernacular, but the works transcend time. This is why I love Shakespeare so much. The interpretations of his work may change over time, but the stories remain steadfast within our society. After all Shakespeare has transcended all forms of media; 

Film

Ballet

Anime

Manga

and the original...The Stage

I feel at this juncture that it is important to mention that I am not blind enough to Shakespeare merits to realise that although his stories have held true through the years, that they have also been adapted to a modern audience. Many of the movies that I grew up watching were interpretations of a Shakespearean plot, '10 Things I Hate About You', 'She's the Man' and 'O'. This does continue to support my argument though, even if the original Shakespeare is beyond some people, the stories are not. They are truly amaranthine in their nature. 

So without further ado I shall say nothing more than a humble thanks to the man himself, for without him I would not be so squee. 

The Foretoken of Doctor Who

Since the reintroduction of Doctor Who in 2005 that there is a whole new generation of people who were never aware that there was something preceding this. After all with RTD at the helm very few people were considered enough to look back at what was, when they were presented with the wondrous things before them. Over night the 'New Who' had captured the minds of a generation.

This however caused a rift with the fans of the 'Old Who'. Many of them complained about the more soapy nature of the 'New Who'. That the Doctor was far too human given his Time Lord status. They had revelled in the scenery that shook, the crappy costumes, the hammy acting, all these things which they claimed had defined the show as what it truly was. That in the process of creating a new version of same, that it had lost it soul somewhere a long the way.

'Old Who'

'New Who'

Now I'm one of the few people who appreciates both the old and the new. After all I have limited memories of the 'Old Who', it having been cancelled when I was still quite young. So a lot of my experience has been through the 'New Who' as a result. In fact given my love of the new and went back and re-immersed myself in the old because of it. While I enjoy both it must be said that I do not have the same affection for the old. There are things that I enjoy of the 'New Who' that the old didn't have.

Unlike some of my peers, I like the more human Doctors. I would like to believe that having spent so many of his years surrounded by us, and his admiration of same, that the Doctor would become more humanised over time. Being the most intelligent being in the universe he could surely see the benefit of observing some of our customs. Not to say that I would imagine him totally human, after all the wonder that is associated with the Doctor is his alienness. In fact that is one of the reason I love the Tenth Doctor so much, he is both alien and so very human at the same time, mad, brilliant, exuberant and so sad all at the same time.

A young but ancient face...

Even though some people gag at the thought of it, I really enjoyed the Doctor's love for Rose. I grow tired of the argument that love is an emotion purely devoted to humanity. That any other creature could never exhibit such depth of emotion. In the Doctor's case, he makes the impossible possible so why is the fact that he fell in love so out of character? Surely nothing should be out of character for him, he embodies everything that we wish we could be, scared that we might be.

That is what makes it such a brilliant show. Ok at it's heart it is essentially about a man who travels in a blue box throughout time and space. It's completely bizarre and wacky, it's over the top and cheesy, but that's what makes it wonderful. That in the midst of all of this you could have something that can also be at times deeply emotional. That your lead can be the most wondrous and terrible creature at the same time. It's shows the possibly of what might be, and for that alone it deserves all the accolades.

Each and every one of them...

The Vacillation of Choice

Choice is one of those amazing things that is both remarkably easy and yet so tremendously difficult at the same time. Admittedly this is because choice can transmogrify itself from something harmless, say a puppy, to a fire breathing dragon, with seemingly little effort. This ability is why so many people vacillate over such things all their life without ever making a decision about anything. 

I consider myself a seemingly decisive person. Someone offers me something I want, I usually accept with little thought (strangers with candy a notable exception, well as long as they didn't look like Dean Winchester). After all, if it's something I want, I've already given some serious thought as to why I might want something.

Who can say no to that face?

Which is why at the moment I find myself so frustrated with several people around me. Admittedly one particularly has thrown me head first into this rant. Offered an opportunity of a lifetime and willing to shrug it off because it's outside what they know. I mean I know sometimes the thought of making such a drastic change is unnerving, I should know, I've made several of them in my lifetime. I've moved halfway round the world and back again to try and make of the most of them. It is terrifying. I won't lie. But I won't say that I didn't enjoy every minute of it. Even the bad ones. After all this is what we're here for to make the most of what we're given. 

Doctor Who would cease to exist if everyone was so rational....

I know there are good reasons to give some consideration to these big decisions, I mean there's the big one, money, not to mention all the other convenient ones, family, home, ability, but it is not the same if you keep making excuses. After a while you realise that all your life has ever consisted of are the excuses that you keep making to yourself and you have nothing else to show for your existence.

Life does not wait for you to gain the confidence to do these things. Confidence is nothing more than the face to put on to face the world. The opportunity you are given however will eventually pass you by and you'll be another one of those people who would've, should've, could've, without doing any of the things they've always been threatening to do. Personally in my opinion, there is nothing more pitiable. Who in their right mind would choose an unremarkable existence over the promise of something brilliant? 

Would you choose Wal-Mart over this?

So without further ado, I shall conclude by saying, I pity the people who are afraid to move past the vacillation that these choices bring them, for they are doomed to an existence of mediocrity, and personally there is nothing worse in my mind. 

The Nonpareil of Macarons

As part of my final year at school, we studied Ibsen's play, 'A Doll's House' (or 'A Doll House' I'm never quite sure which it is). My wonderful English teacher decided that each lesson we were reading through the play that people would take the roles of the main players, and rotate through until everyone had had a chance to read at least one part during this time. I was fortunate enough to be given to be given Nora in the final scene of the play.

I had admired Ibsen's egalitarian perspective in all of this, although he's credited often with being a feminist I don't think that's entirely accurate. He was merely humanitarian enough to realise that everyone should be treated equal regardless of their sex. He wasn't pro-women's rights as such, this was just the man he was. As a result, I found myself identifying with Nora in that final scene. As she stands in front of Torvald and watches her dreams of their life shatter before her.

The cover page of 'A Doll's House'

I know this seems highly irrelevant to the subjects of macarons (or macaroons if you're so inclined), but this is the starting point for my experience with them, Before this stage I have no great interest in macarons, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure before this I could have even told you what they were. As I grew up in a household that never had such things, they were not something I knew in my vernacular. After 'A Doll's House' I made sure that one day I would try them.

I wanted to try them, because of my empathy for Nora. She had tried to do the right thing, over and over, only to have everyone turn their backs on her. As for Torvald, he regarded her as very little more than the children they shared. She had no equal relationship in their marriage. This was evident in his decree that she should not be allowed to have macarons, despite her love of same. Her secret stash of them made me want to try them for the first time in my life. To see if her affection for same was truly warranted.

A rainbow symphony of Laduree macarons

Since then I have made it a mission of mine every time I am in Paris, to indulge in these small treats. To seek out the best macaronier that Paris has to offer. I've tried a multitude of different flavours, from date and fig to caramelised hummus to pistachio (my favourite). I've been to Laduree, Jean-Paul Hevin, Dallyou and some lesser known patissieres all in the search for the perfect macaron.

After all a perfect macaron is hard to come by. It should be crisp on the outside, gooey in the middle, and the cream should be smooth as it glides over your tongue. The flavours should be distinct and fragrant at the same time. It should be so wonderful that one macaron should be savoured for as long as you can manage. A perfect macaron should be forsaken for nothing.

Each one...perfect it it's own right

I love macarons that are interesting. Despite my love of the classics, as mentioned I can never go past the nonpareil of a pistachio macaron, I revel in the interesting flavours that I have been presented with. I found delight in a blueberry and lavender macaron, fire in a rose and mandarin one, home in a date and fig one, and much to my chagrin disgust in the caramelised hummus one.

After all for me, that is why macarons are so unique. They can take on all sorts of different complexities, they can be both sweet and savoury, classic and modern, they're a truly versatile commodity. For me, they are also a rare commodity. I seek them out only a few times a year to preserve their wonder for me. I travel halfway round the world to revel in them.

Some of the more interesting macarons
that are on offer

So I offer a heartfelt thanks to Nora and Ibsen for their introduction into the world of the macaron. It is truly worth it.