A Midsummer Night's Dream

Well, Mr. Shakespeare, you have done it again. You've managed to entertain me with your poetry while still using the same old stale plot devices--forbidden love, a play within a play, and of course, it must always end with a wedding. I did enjoy reading A Midsummer Night's Dream more than the previous three plays I've gone through this week. The language is pure poetry through and through, arguably the most beautiful of any of his works, so I managed to get through the entire play with little or no labor. And yes, this one made me laugh more than any I've previously read, but I love jokes about butts, and there are plenty of them in here. That's the great thing about Shakespeare--you can feel high-brow in taking pleasure in the literature, but really it's just catering to a very base sense of humor, which I proudly possess. I'll take beautiful verse and toilet humor entwined into one any day!

I've decided that this is the last of the Shakespeare for the time being, though. My thoughts are literally pacing through my mind in iambic pentameter and it's driving me insane. I can't read prose right now either because of the stitled rhythm I've instilled into my brain. Also, as I previously suggested, Shakespeare is a bit of a five-trick pony. The plots are preditable, the comedies invariably end in a marriage, and there is always a case of mistaken identity if not misdirected love. The tragedies are another story, but they are formulaic in their own right, not to mention that I've already read them, so I can't mix them into my current quest. Essentially I enjoy Shakespeare for the language. And once his language has stopped possessing my own, I will come back to it. In the meantime, I leave you with the ever-so hilarious Uncyclopedia's take on A Midsummer Night's Dream. Here is just a teaser from my favorite Irishman:

“Yeah, I tried to write a poem about asses once. Although it wasn't so much of a poem as it was a reenactment. And it wasn't so much a reenactment as it was an enactment. And it wasn't so much doing it once as it was doing it several times per day. And it wasn't so much doing it several times per day as it was doing it constantly with every man, woman, and stoat in the town.”
~ Oscar Wilde

http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/A_Midsummer_Night%27s_Dream