Tonight’s entertainment was “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in The Globe Theater. Shakespeare’s actual venue burnt down, but this is supposedly a faithful recreation, even built without nails to remain true to the original. I don’t think the original included a gift shop, fiber optics, or marble appointments on stage, but they didn’t hurt.
The play was bizarre, to say the least. Most of the language remained intact, so the actors used modern improvisations to make scenes understandable. These included a shaving cream wig, extremely affectionate actors, and slapstick that rivaled Bugs Bunny. I still was a lot more than a little confused at points, but I cracked up at others. All in all, I followed the plot, understanding some really old school dialogue, while also staying awake and entertained.
Most memorable chunk was a bit of Shakespearean philosophy. I don’t remember it word for word, but he wrote about how 3 kinds of people are crazy: lunatics, lovers, and poets. Lunatics see all of hell constantly, while lovers see heaven on earth. Poets, on the other hand, do more than see: they have the privilege of translating their visions of heaven into bits of reality through their prose. I’m obviously not doing the lines justice with this summary: Shakespeare put it just sounded really perceptive, not even seeming self-congratulatory. In any case, it was a nice chunk of philosophy thrown into an odd soap opera of a love octagon full of mischievous fairies, one of whom falls temporarily but deeply in love with a man-donkey. Yeah, Shakespeare can drag at points, but it’s definitely not boringly normal.
Totally changing the subject, my landlord’s an odd guy. Mr. Michaels is an old Arabic man who takes a hands-off approach to his apartments, hands-off meaning refusing to fix anything and sometimes even neglecting to turn on the heat. My last interaction with him was just a minute ago as I sat writing in the common room. He literally popped his head in, looked at me, said “all right then, goodnight,” and went back downstairs. Yeah, he’s definitely dodgy. I think he may be senile, too: my rent was due Monday and he hasn’t asked me for it yet. I figure I’ll take his approach, ignoring the first five or so times he asks before finally paying. Such a solid landlord deserves equally astute tenants, right?