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.