This is the play where the Percy rebellion begins and centers around the Achilles like Hotspur. Eventually, Hotspur (Henry Percy) and Prince Hal (Henry Monmouth - later Henry V) battle in single combat.

We also get to see the contrast between these young men in temperament and character. King Henry wishes his son were more like Hotspur. Prince Hal realizes his own weaknesses and seems to try to assure himself (and us) that when the time comes he will change and all his youthful foolishness will be forgotten. Wouldn't that be a luxury we wish we could all have afforded when we were young?

Of course, Prince Hal's guide through the world of the cutpurse and highwayman is the Lord of Misrule, the incomparable Falstaff. His wit and gut are featured in full. When Prince Hal and Poins double-cross Falstaff & company, the follow on scenes are funny, but full of consequence even into the next play.

But, you certainly don't need me to tell you anything about Shakespeare. Like millions of other folks, I am in love with the writing. However, as all of us who read Shakespeare know, it isn't a simple issue. Most of us need help in understanding the text. There are many plays on words, many words no longer current in English and, besides, Shakespeare's vocabulary is richer than almost everyone else's who ever lived. There is also the issue of historical context, and the variations of text since the plays were never published in their author's lifetime.

For those of us who need that help and want to dig a bit deeper, the Arden editions of Shakespeare are just wonderful.

-Before the text of the play we get very readable and helpful essays discussing the sources and themes and other important issues about the play.

-In the text of the play we get as authoritative a text as exists with helpful notes about textual variations in other sources. We also get many many footnotes explaining unusual words or word plays or thematic points that would likely not be known by us reading in the 21st century.

-After the text we get excerpts from likely source materials used by Shakespeare and more background material to help us enrich our understanding and enjoyment of the play.

However, these extras are only available in the individual editions. If you buy the "Complete Plays" you get text and notes, but not the before and after material which add so much! Plus, the individual editions are easier to read from and handier to carry around.

henry iv is misnamed since the play isn't really about king henry but about his son, prince hal, and his enemies, especially henry percy (aka 'hotspur') who is a rival to hal. hotspur is one of the leaders of the rebellion against the king and, at a tender age, is already an accomplished soldier. his story provides the drama of the play. hal, on the other hand, has fallen out of favor with the king, and is whiling away his days in the company of dissolute company, led by sir john falstaff, one of shakespeare's great characters. his adventures with sir john provide the comic relief. fortunately for the king, hal sheds his prodigal ways in time to save his father and his crown in the battle at shrewsbury, where, coincidentally, hal meets and slays his rival, hotspur.

this is one of shakespeare's best plays. the story of the rebellion is intriguing, and the adventures of hal and falstaff are laugh-out-loud hilarious. the culmination of the two stories in the final battle scene is wonderful. this is a fitting sequel to richard ii.

note that there are some historical inaccuracies and even outright inventions in this play. foremost is the character of falstaff who is pure invention (and genius). the story of hal's adventures stems from his reputation, enhanced by legend, as a playboy. falstaff was the perfect foil for a carousing prince. the biggest inaccuracy is hotspur's age. he was actually of the generation of henry iv, and not as young as he's depicted in the play. shakespeare made him younger to enhance, maybe even create, the rivalry with hal. there are other inaccuracies here, but better for the reader to consult 'shakespeare's kings', an excellent book by saccio that explains the history of the period and the discrepancies in the play.

This is the play where Henry IV squashes the Percy rebellion but himself becomes ill and dies. So, Price Hal becomes King Henry V and this leads to the next play of that name.

The wonderful Falstaff is also on glorious display. This is also the play with the famous tavern scene (Act II, Scene IV) that can be read endlessly with new enjoyment.

Everyone has his or her own take on Falstaff and his treatment at the hands of Henry V, but I dislike it even though I understand it. Prince Hal and his transformation into Henry V is not someone I admire a lot. Nor is Falstaff's manner of living, but his wit is so sharp and his intelligence so vast that it is easy to still delight in him.

But, you certainly don't need me to tell you anything about Shakespeare. Like millions of other folks, I am in love with the writing. However, as all of us who read Shakespeare know, it isn't a simple issue. Most of us need help in understanding the text. There are many plays on words, many words no longer current in English and, besides, Shakespeare's vocabulary is richer than almost everyone else's who ever lived. There is also the issue of historical context, and the variations of text since the plays were never published in their author's lifetime.

For those of us who need that help and want to dig a bit deeper, the Arden editions of Shakespeare are just wonderful.

-Before the text of the play we get very readable and helpful essays discussing the sources and themes and other important issues about the play.

-In the text of the play we get as authoritative a text as exists with helpful notes about textual variations in other sources. We also get many many footnotes explaining unusual words or word plays or thematic points that would likely not be known by us reading in the 21st century.

-After the text we get excerpts from likely source materials used by Shakespeare and more background material to help us enrich our understanding and enjoyment of the play.

However, these extras are only available in the individual editions. If you buy the "Complete Plays" you get text and notes, but not the before and after material which add so much! Plus, the individual editions are easier to read from and handier to carry around.

. . . to really achieve its full potential, this play needs to be acted out on stage. Still, highly excellent, involving twins, cross-dressing, love tangles, sword-fighting, secret marriages, music, disguises, mistaken identities, high speech, and lowbrow humour.

The entire play takes place in Illyria. In the main plot, Orsino is in love with Olivia, who unfortunately does not return his feelings. Viola is shipwrecked on the Illyrian coast, and dressed as a boy, comes to serve in Orsino's court, where she of course falls in love with Orsino. Meanwhile, in Olivia's court, some of her courtiers plan a cruel--but funny--practical joke against her pompous steward Malvolio. There is also a third plot later on involving Viola's twin brother Sebastian, who has been shipwrecked likewise. Naturally things get quite confusing, but, true to Shakespeare's comedic style, everything gets worked out in the end.

This is an enjoyable book to read, and the notes are very helpful. However, it is still better as a performance.

"Twelfth Night" is one of the famous romantic comedy written by William Shakespeare. Many critics said, "Twelfth Night" is the masterpiece among his comedy because his fully developed style and insight are in the "Twelfth Night", so it has special value and attractiveness.
There are four main characters in "Twelfth Night" ; Duke Orsino, Olivia, Viola, and
Sebastian. Duke Orsino who lives in Illyria loves Olivia, so every day he send one of
his servant to Olivia's house for proposal of marriage. However, every time Olivia
refuses his proposal for the reason that she lost her brother before long, so she is now
in big sorrow and can not love anyone. One day, Viola comes into Illyria. She and her
twin brother Sebastian are separated in a shipwreck and they are rescued by two
different people in two different place, so they think the other one is dead each other.
Viola disguise as a man and become a servant of Duke Orsino, and then she fall in
love with Duke Orsino. But, Duke Orsino loves Olivia and he send Viola whose new
name as a man is "Cesario" to Olivia for proposal. Unexpectedly, Olivia fall in love with
Cesario!! Therefore, love triangle is formed. In the latter scene, Sebastian also come into
Illyria, so the confusion getting worse. However, in the end, all misunderstandings are
solved and Cesario become Viola, so the four main characters find their love.
There are also four supporting characters in "Twelfth Night" ; Clown, Sir Toby Belch,
Malvolio, and Sir Andrew Aguecheek. They make the readers laugh through their funny
behaviors and comments in subplot.
"Twelfth Night" is very funny story and enjoyable book, so I recommend you.

I didn't read this particular version of Twelfth Night, so I'm rating the plot, not the editing. This book was the first play by Shakespeare that I read, and I loved it! It starts when Viola and her brother, Sebastian, are seperated in a shipwreck. Viola decides to disguise herself as a boy and work for Orsino, the duke. Orsino sends Viola to tell Olivia that he loves her. Viola does what he says, but she wishes she didn't have to, because she has fallen in love with Orsino! Then Olivia falls in love with Viola, thinking that she is a boy. While all this is going on, Andrew Aguecheek is wooing Olivia, who scorns him. Also, Maria, the maid, Sir Toby Belch, Olivia's uncle, and another servant write a letter and put it where Malvolio, a servant, will see it. The letter says that Olivia is in love with Malvolio. Malvolio immediately starts trying to woo Olivia. Maria and Sir Toby pretend to think that he's mad, and lock him up. Meanwhile, Sebastian comes to town with Antonio, the man who saved him from the shipwreck. Antonio gives him his purse and says that he must stay away from the city because he fought against the duke in a war. A few minutes later, Antonio realizes that he needs money for lodgings and goes to find Sebastian. In the city, Viola is being forced to fight Andrew Aguecheek for the right to marry Olivia. Antonio sees the fight and hurries to intervene. Orsino recognizes him and has him arrested. Antonio asks Viola for his purse so that he can pay bail, thinking that she is Sebastian. Viola denies having had a purse. Then Sebastian comes up. Olivia had found him and married him on the spot, and he, deliriously happy, had gone away to give Antonio his purse. On the way, he met Sir Toby and Andrew Aguecheek. When they try to force him to fight, he punches them and goes on. They come up too, bitterly accusing Viola. (No one has seen Sebastian yet.) Then Olivia comes up and speaks to Viola, who denies being her wife. Orsino becomes angry with her, thinking that she has married Olivia, and accuses her of treachery. Just as things are looking bad for Viola, Sebastian reveals himself. Then everyone is happy (since Orsino falls in love with Viola on the spot) except Andrew Aguecheek and Malvolio, who is later set free. The plot of this book is a little hard to understand, but it is halariously funny and makes for happy reading.

This is my favorite of several hundred great books I have read. I was prejudiced towards all that Jane Austen had written when I picked this 815 page book up in 1996, and I later had to admit that Thackeray outdid Jane in many ways. The best aspect of the book was the way in which the supposed main character, Becky Sharpe, lost her status as having been the main character by the time the book ended. The good people became the main characters. This brilliant twist in novel writing was later to be seen in "Daniel Deronda" and in "Gone With the Wind". Which leads to an interesting point: I feel too many Americans think that Margaret Mitchell meant to portray Scarlett Ohara as the heroine right down to the end of the latter novel. I think that it was clear that Melanie was the real "Mensch" all along. Many people go so far as to suggest that the latter novel was actually copied off of Vanity Fair.

I once read that "Vanity Fair" had been classified as one of the "most boring classics" by a group of English professors, who hopefully have all been fired, as they can NOT have had any appreciation for the incisive use of the English language, the witty skewering of Victorian society, the rollicking plot, or the unforgettable characters. Becky Sharpe isn't likeable -- but in the end, you have to admire her insatiability and efficiency. Amelia and Dobbin live out the stereotypical storybook romance -- but Thackeray dares to show how the story usually ends. This is one of the few books that had me consistently laughing aloud; virtually every page has a stinging comment or revealing moment that catches the attention. Although it's a "classic" (think leather-bound dusty volumes with edifying quotes from the latin), this is as vital, insightful, and "modern" a novel as you could hope to read. (And for the record, I think comparing Thackeray and Austen is like comparing Stephen King and Alice Walker -- they're writing at the same time, but the similarities end there!)

William Makepeace Thackeray subtitled "Vanity Fair", his masterful comic novel, "A Novel Without a Hero". But while this big, baggy eight-hundred page monstrosity of comic characters and situations may lack a hero, it has two of the most memorable characters in English literature: Amelia Sedley and Becky Sharp. The contrapuntal, shifting fortunes of these two women drive the narrative of this big book, painting, along the way, a brilliant satirical portrait of English and European society at the time of the Napoleonic wars. We first meet Amelia and Becky in the opening pages of the novel, leaving Miss Pinkerton's School for the wider world of fortune, love and marriage. Amelia Sedley, the naive, sheltered daughter of a rich London merchant whose fortunes will dramatically change over the course of her life, "was a dear little creature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which (the latter especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort, that we are to have for a constant companion so guileless and good-natured a person." In contrast, Becky Sharp, the impoverished orphan of an artist and a French opera singer of dubious repute, was a calculating, amoral social climber. "Miss Rebecca was not, then, in the least kind or placable . . . but she had the dismal precocity of poverty." From the opening pages, Thackeray captures the reader's interest in these two characters and carries the reader through marriages, births, deaths, poverty, misfortune, social climbing . . . even the Battle of Waterloo! While Amelia and Becky wind like a long, contrasting thread from the beginning to the end of this story, there are also plots and subplots, intrigues and authorial asides, and one character after another, all of this literary invention keeping the reader incessantly preoccupied and enthralled. Reading "Vanity Fair" is the furthest thing from "killing time" (as the dusty, misguided literary critic F. R. Leavis once said); it is, rather, the epitome of the nineteenth century English comic novel, a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Many people feel that this play of Shakespeare's is either unfinished or a poor effort. But I do not think this is accurate or fair. The reality is that many people can never find a middle ground. It is actually (in my opinion) quite common for people to only be able to see things from one extreme or the other. Despite Apemantus' cynical nature, there is no denying that whatever his faults are, HE DOES HAVE RIGHT ON HIS SIDE when he tells Timon: "The middle of humanity thou never knewest,/ but the extremity of both ends...." (4.3.342-343). Critics also tend to think Apemantus is unlikable, but are we missing a crucial point? I can not help but think Shakespeare is commenting on the fact that more people DON'T have a concept of reality. Apemantus refuses to join in the delight when Timon thinks highly of his false friends. Apemantus is aware of reality and no one wants to hear it. In my opinion Timon and Apemantus are VERY TRUE to life. In addition, the roll of Flavius is very touching. He can not dessert his master even when he knows (or thinks) Timon has nothing. Finally, I can not over estimate the mastery of Shakespeare when first Timon has money, he can not do enough for his so called friends and when he has nothing they dessert him. When Timon through fate gains a second fortune, he does not turn back into what he was, but rather he uses his 2nd fortune to destroy Athens. It is interesting that Shakespeare derived this play on the legend of 'Timon the Manhater,' and decides to take it a step further and show how he got there. And how much more realistic could Shakespeare have made this than by first showing Timon as a 'manlover?' Many people feel Timon should have somehow found the middle of humanity, but if he had, that would have defeated the whole purpose of this excellent play.

Timon of Athens has often been thought the work of a madman. Disjointed, polemical, irrational, and downright inelegant, many have thought that Shakespeare (or whosoever it may be) suffered a mental breakdown. This and more surrounds what I believe to be a tragic under-appreciation of this play. This play is NOT the story of a naively generous soul who eventually "faces reality". This is instead the story of a glorious Dionysian self-expender, who, upon realizing the cowardly conservatism of his so-called "peers", runs off to the wilds, to continue expending himself in body and soul. He dies on a curse, the climax of all the "evil wind" he has been sending out, the ultimate self-expension, his ultimate glory. The "tragedy" is the stone cold tablet that lies atop his corpse at the end, and the message of frugality it seems to send out, which is all too easily accepted by fatally declining cultures.

Among the least performed of all the Shakespeare plays, is probably the most disturbing. In the beginning, Timon is (not to put too fine a point on it) stupidly philanthropic; in the end he is equally misanthropic. When Timon is on top of the world, we have the cynical Apemantus to be our voice and let him know what a fool he is. In the last two acts, we simply wish (I do, at least) that our hero would stop complaining and let us "pass and stay not here," as he would have all men do in his epitaph.

But a recording is to be judged on its performances, not so much on its text. The Arkangel series, now in its last laps toward completion before (I am told) it is all redone on CDs, has every reason to be proud of its "Timon of Athens," thanks to its strong and intelligent readings. The opening scenes of artisans and poets building up the play's themes of wheel-of-fortune and gratitude/ingratitude are almost intelligible without a text open before you. Alan Howard, whom I saw in New York long ago as Henry V and as the main character in "Good," has that kind of friendly voice that is so well suited to the extravagant Timon in the open acts that we feel all the more for him when his false friends deny him in his need.

The snarling voice of Norman Rodway's Apemantus is a perfect counterpoint, and he casts out his invective in those early scenes with a hint of humor. However, when Timon becomes the misanthrope, his voice darkens and coarsens; and it is very hard to tell it from Apemantus' in their overly-long exchange of curses in 4:3. If the actor playing Alcibiades (Damian Lewis) sounds far too young for the role, that is a minor quibble--and perhaps the director wanted him to sound like a young Timon.

The incidental music sounds sufficiently Greek but too modern; still, Ingratitude knows no particular time period. A superior production of a much flawed play and a very welcome addition to any collection of recorded drama, especially since the old Decca set is long out of print and Harper audio does not yet have a "Timon" in their series.

I could seriously not put this book down. I read Neuromancer, which I thought was an awesome book, and I read Count Zero, which was good but sort of boring. Mona Lisa Overdrive however was a true masterpiece true to Gibson. The environment, so dark and un-organic paints a dark picture in your mind that is so real and tangible in a way. Cyberspace and the computer-driven networked world also played so much of a part in this simply amazing imaginary world. When it matches with the characters so nicely you can't discount the book because it's so enthralling. I loved this book and I know a lot of others that did too (although most of them tell me it's a cult following to like Gibson's work).

This was the first Gibson book I ever read. After browsing through a local Sci-Fi bookstore, and having heard good things about Gibson from a friend, I spotted this in the used book section, and picked it up. Immediately thereafter, I was enthralled.

Gibson has taken the probable, the possible, and the fantastic, and woven them into a single, believable entity. Mona Lisa Overdrive is a worthy successor to Neuromancer, in every aspect. Such favorites as Sally (AKA Molly), and the Finn tie this into Neuromancer quite well, as do the references to Case and the union of the Rio and Berne AIs.

Gibson's style is such that it takes several readings to truly understand a book; even then, you're left wondering "what did he mean by that?" Mona Lisa Overdrive is no exception. Never having read Neuromancer previous to Overdrive, I was mystified by the events described in the book; once I read Neuromancer, many things were revealed.

The technology, the political intrigue, and the societies of Gibson's future are projections of current trends, plus the mystical dimension of "cyberspace;" the medium through which the majority of the world communicates. There is nothing new under the sun, and Gibson proves this with Mona Lisa.

The third in the Sprawl trilogy, I'd really recommend reading this but preferably if you've read Neuromancer and Count Zero first. It's an awesome book, but without the background knowledge from the two previous books it could be a struggle. The imagery Gibson concocts for us is exquisite, from the neon and chrome plated Sprawl, to the urban junkyard of the Factory, the dilapidated future London stuck in a time warp and of course the wonders of Gibson's Cyberspace, made even more fantastic here by some clever plot twists. It's all so real you're right there with his characters yet he doesn't bore you with over description - that's quite an achievement. His characters are complex and breathe life and aren't just mono dimensional cardboard cutouts - they each have their strengths and frailties. And by the end of the book it all makes sense .... almost .... but leaving you to ponder some aspects of the story. Which is just as it should be :) Well recommended.

"The Miracle Worker," a play by William Gibson, has had an enduring presence as a piece of living literature. It appeared on Broadway during the 1959-60 dramatic season, was made into a motion picture a couple of years later, and then was remade as a television movie for the 1979-80 season. The play's genesis lies in the real story of Helen Keller (1880-1968), the woman who was struck deaf and blind by illness at the age of 19 months. "The Miracle Worker" tells how a young Helen was led out of her prison of silence and darkness by the remarkable Anne Sullivan, who set out to teach the girl sign language.

"The Miracle Worker" is a truly great play. Gibson brilliantly takes the historical facts of Keller's childhood (many of which can be found in "The Story of My Life," Keller's 1902 autobiography) and turns them into a suspenseful, profoundly moving piece of theater. Although the core of the play is the fiery relationship between Sullivan and the wildly undisciplined Helen, Gibson's drama takes in the entire Keller household. I was particularly moved by the relationship between "Miss Annie" and Helen's frustrated but devoted mother.

"The Miracle Worker" is remarkable because much of the story is told not in dialogue, but in Gibson's stage directions. This is one of those plays which is not only powerful in performance, but also a gripping read.

Gibson's play is one of those great examples of a drama that takes real American life stories and turns them into enduring art; in that sense, it is comparable to such great works as "The Crucible," by Arthur Miller, or "The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail," by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee.

"The Miracle Worker" is not only a compelling human drama, but also a reflection on courage, love, education, and the transcendent power of language. As an interesting complementary text, I recommend Octavia Butler's science fiction story "Speech Sounds" (which can be found in Butler's book "Bloodchild and Other Stories").

I read Miracle Worker in class with my classmates and teacher. I find Miracle Worker a very touching story, about Helen Keller and Annie Sulliven. Some of the other characters are: Captain Keller, his wife Katie and his son, Helen's half brother, James. In the beggining of the book, Helen is a wild animal, but we see how this all changes, with Annie's help. By looking at Helen's actions throughout the book, we see what a great mind Helen has, and if she knew how to speak she would have tons to say. It is a very good book

Based on a true story, The Miracle Worker is a poignant drama exposing the childhood struggles and feats of Helen Keller. Keller's life story is widely regarded as one of the most inspirational triumphs of the human spirit in American history. This modern drama is a near perfect rendition of Keller's early years on a homestead farm in Tuscumbia, Alabama.

As the play begins, Kate Keller discovers that her child, Helen, cannot hear nor see her. A period of time elapses, and the family is trying to decide what they should do for Helen. After a bit of reluctance, Captain Keller consents to writing to Dr. Chisholm, an oculist who might be able to help her. It turns out that the oculist cannot help Helen, but he does contact Alexander Graham Bell, who in turn refers the Kellers to the Perkins Institute for the Blind. The Institute sends to the Kellers Annie Sullivan, a teacher who will attempt to communicate with Helen. Annie's first day with Helen is rough, as Helen ends up locking Annie in her room and throwing away the key. Eventually, Annie is able to finger-spell into Helen's hand, but Helen doesn't quite understand what the words mean. When Annie tries to discipline Helen, Helen gets mad and won't let Annie touch her. This prompts Annie to ask for two weeks alone with Helen in the Kellers' garden house. Once again, after great reluctance, Captain Keller assents. The two weeks pass and Helen still hasn't learned what words mean. Annie asks for more time alone with Helen, but the Kellers refuse and insist on bringing her back into the house. The reader is left wondering what will happen and reads on, awestruck, as Helen begins to make tremendous progress.

Besides educating the public about an important cultural icon, The Miracle Worker also promotes handicap awareness. I believe that this play can be used as a tool to teach children about accepting people with disabilities. As a disabled person myself, I testify to Keller's strength and every time I think of Keller, I am continually reminded at what I have accomplished in life despite tremendous difficulty. I'm sure that anyone who has ever been faced with an unusually tough set of circumstances will cherish this story, regardless of age, sex, or interests. As I said before, it's all about the human spirit -- if Keller's story doesn't inspire you to accomplish more in life, I doubt that anything will.

This is a classic work explaining in a remarkably objective manner the many varieties and possibilities of religious experience. It well avoids the common trap of falling into a polemic either for or against religion; nor does it become a tract supporting Protestantism over Catholicism or vice-verse; or even Christianity over Islam or vice-versa. The book is extremely well-reasoned and liberally dosed with examples of the extremes of religiousity. These extremes not only make for entertaining reading, but James argues that we can learn more from the people who have felt the religious impulse strongly than we can from those who neatly fit religion into their otherwise secular lives. An over-weaning theme of the book is James's respect for the individual's experience of religion. As a result, this is not a book about the varieties of religions, as it does not compare Protestantism and Christianity; nor Judaism and Buddhism, or any other forms of established religion. In fact, in his chapter about mysticism, he argues that the established religions customarily treat mystics and mysticisms as heretics and heresy. Mysticism then either succumbs or successfully survives to either break off to become its own established religion or becomes absorbed into an established religion. By the time that has happened the individual aspects of mysticism are lost and are replaced by still further dogma.

This book should really have been titled "The Varieties of Christian Religious Experience," for it is only for Christianity (and to some extent Judaism) that James is well-versed enough to give a thorough examination. It is not that he does not respect Islam or Buddhism; it is that he doesn't know them well enough to draw them fully into the discussion.

This book is based on a series of Lectures that the late William James gave at the turn of the century. What makes James' writing so odd in the world of religious studies is his refreshingly realistic take on religion and human nature considering it was written previous to the first world war. In an age where people were remarkably positive about human kind and our collective destiny James' views were certainly unpopular. James, however, was ahead of his time. We look back on his work from a century later through the lens of the most bloody and brutal century mankind can remember and find James' assertions to be entirely too accurate.

This was one of the first academic books on the subject of religious experience and is thus extremely important. William James demonstrates such a wide scope of knowledge on the subject that reading this book is like opening a window into the world of nineteenth century religious movements. Considering the amount of important developements that occured within religion at the time: The Quakers, The abolishionists, Mormons, etc. This book can be extremely useful in that aspect as well.
It is certainly worth reading if you have an interest in

religious experience or in nineteenth century religion. James is and most likely will always be one of the greatest voices on this subject, thus, not to read this book would not be a sin, but it would definitely be a mistake.

Coming from an essentially secular upbringing, I thought religion was something I should learn about as part of a well-rounded liberal arts education. This book helped me to see that religion might also have something to say to me personally (as did Thomas Merton's "Seven Storey Mountain").

"Varieties" is a wonderfully written exploration of the psychology of individual religious experience--whether within or without organized religion--by one of America's greatest philosophers and psychologists. It includes lots of interesting case studies and lots of insight. Major topics: conversion, saintliness, mysticism, and James's illuminating distinction between "healthy-minded" religion and that of the "sick soul." Fun fact: the panicky, melancholic "Frenchman" near the end of the "Sick Soul" section is actually William James. Also noteworthy: this book was an important influence on "Bill W.," co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous.

(Another book I highly recommend on the psychology of religion: Gerald May's "Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology.")

this is a comedy only in the sense that the play ends well - ie, noone dies, most everyone is happy. else, there's little humor in this comedy, save for the knave, lucio. like others here have pointed out, this is actually a pretty serious play that takes a pretty hard look at human weakness, particularly lust. there are some fine, impassioned speeches by claudio and his sister, who pleads for his life. worth a read. but don't expect any laughs.

One of Shakespeare's lesser read and lesser performed plays, Measure for Measure profoundly explores the themes of justice and mercy. This exploration compensates for the defects of the play: the unbelievable resolution, the Duke's refusal to interfere early on (which causes pain to the characters), the inconsistency in the application of morality (Isabella considers it wrong for the betrothed Claudio and Juliet to have sex but justifies--and even helps to arrange--it between Angelo and Mariana), and the unexpected suddenness of the Duke's proposal to Isabella. The play seriously weighs the concerns of justice and mercy, and although it ultimately favors mercy, it recognizes the complexity of the issue. How can one practice mercy and yet restrain vice? How can one "hate the sin" yet "love the sinner?" Mercy seems to be the necessary choice over justice because man is too fallen to bear the brunt of justice. "Judge not lest ye be judged. For with what measure you mete," said Christ, "it shall be measured unto you." If you hold a high standard for others (as does Angelo for Claudio) and yet fall short of it yourself, you will be judged by the same standard. Since we seem destined to fall short of righteousness, it is best to practice forgiveness, so that we too may be judged lightly. And yet there is a concern that such practice of forgiveness will lead to a laxity that permits vice to flourish (which is the reason the Duke leaves Angelo in charge in the first place). Though mercy and forgiveness are favored, the arguments in favor of justice are not simply dismissed.

Quote: "Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemned ere it be done.
Mine were the very cipher of a function,
To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor." (II.ii.38-42)

Measure for Measure is seldom read, and not often performed in the United States. Why? Although many of Shakespeare's plays deal bluntly with sexual issues, Measure for Measure does so in an unusually ugly and disgusting way for Shakespeare. This play is probably best suited for adults, as a result.

I see Measure for Measure as closest to The Merchant of Venice in its themes. Of the two plays, I prefer Measure for Measure for its unremitting look at the arbitrariness of laws, public hypocrisy and private venality, support for virtue, and encouragement of tempering public justice with common sense and mercy.

The play opens with Duke Vincentio turning over his authority to his deputy, Angelo. But while the duke says he is leaving for Poland, he in fact remains in Vienna posing as a friar. Angelo begins meting out justice according to the letter of the law. His first act is to condemn Claudio to death for impregnating Juliet. The two are willing to marry, but Angelo is not interested in finding a solution. In despair, Claudio gets word to his sister, the beautiful Isabella, that he is to be executed and prays that she will beg for mercy. Despite knowing that Isabella is a virgin novice who is about to take her vows, Angelo cruelly offers to release Claudio of Isabella will make herself sexually available to Angelo. The Duke works his influence behind the scenes to help create justice.

Although this play is a "comedy" in Shakespearean terms, the tension throughout is much more like a tragedy. In fact, there are powerful scenes where Shakespeare draws on foolish servants of the law to make his points clear. These serve a similar role of lessening the darkness to that of the gravediggers in Hamlet.

One of the things I like best about Measure for Measure is that the resolution is kept hidden better than in most of the comedies. As a result, the heavy and rising tension is only relieved right at the end. The relief you will feel at the end of act five will be very great, if you are like me.

After you read this play, I suggest that you compare Isabella and Portia. Why did Shakespeare choose two such strong women to be placed at the center of establishing justice? Could it have anything to do with wanting to establish the rightness of the heart? If you think so, reflect that both Isabella and Portia are tough in demanding that what is right be done. After you finish thinking about those two characters, you may also enjoy comparing King Lear and Claudio. What was their fault? What was their salvation? Why? What point is Shakespeare making? Finally, think about Angelo. Is he the norm or the exception in society? What makes someone act like Angelo does here? What is a person naturally going to do in his situation?

Look for fairness in all that you say and do!

'As you like it' is one of those Shakespearean plays that is considered 'great' by critics, but never really found true popular acclaim, perhaps due to the absence of charismatic characters (the romantic hero is particularly wet) or compelling dilemmas.

It shares many features with the great comedies - the notion of the forest as a magic or transformative space away from tyrannical society ('A Midsummer night's dream'); the theme of unrequited love and gender switching from 'Twelfth night'; the exiled Duke and his playful daughter from 'The Tempest'. But these comparisons only point to 'AYLI''s comparative failure (as a reading experience anyway) - it lacks the magical sense of play of the first; the yearning melancholy of the second; or the elegiac complexity of the third.

It starts off brilliantly with a first act dominated by tyrants: an heir who neglects his younger brother, and a Duke who resents the popularity of his exiled brother's daughter (Rosalind). there is an eccentric wrestling sequence in which a callow youth (Orlando) overthrows a giant. Then the good characters are exiled to Arden searching for relatives and loved ones.

Theoretically, this should be good fun, and you can see why post-modernist critics enjoy it, with its courtiers arriving to civilise the forest in the language of contemporary explorers, and the gender fluidity and role-play; but, in truth, plot is minimal, with tiresomely pedantic 'wit' to the fore, especially when the melancholy scholar-courtier Jacques and Fool Touchstone are around, with the latter's travesties of classical learning presumably hilarious if you're an expert on Theocritus and the like.

As an English pastoral, 'AYLI' doesn't approach Sidney's 'Arcadia' - maybe it soars on stage. (Latham's Arden edition is as frustrating as ever, with scholarly cavilling creating a stumbling read, and an introduction which characteristically neuters everything that makes Shakespeare so exciting and challenging)

Anyone with a working knowledge of Shakespeare's plays knows that As You Like It is a light, airy comedy. It is clearly not one of Shakespeare's greatest plays. As You Like It is more obscure than famous. Even amongst the comedies it comes nowhere close to the popularity of plays such as A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Tempest, or Twelfth Night. That said, it is a treasure in its own right. This is so, if for nothing else, because it contains one of the greatest pictures of a woman to be found in Shakespeare's works, excluding the Sonnets.

Ah, sweet Rosalind. In her are encapsulated so many ideas about the nature of woman. She is first pictured in a rather faux-Petrarchan manner. This quickly fades as an intelligent woman comes to the fore. While the intelligence remains, she is also torn by the savage winds of romantic love. Rosalind, in all her complexity and self-contradiction, is a truly modern female character.

Most of the women in Shakespeare's tragedies and historical plays are either window dressing (as in Julius Caesar) or woefully one-sided (Ophelia, Lady Macbeth). This is not the case with Rosalind. Rather than being marginalized, she is the focus of a good chunk of the play. Instead of being static and [standard], she is a complex evolving character.

When Rosalind first appears, she outwardly looks much like any other lady of the court. She is a stunning beauty. She is much praised for her virtue. Both of these elements factor in the Duke's decision to banish or [do away with] her.

Rosalind falls in love immediately upon seeing Orlando. In this way she at first seems to back up a typically courtly idea of "love at first sight." Also, she initially seems quite unattainable to Orlando. These are echoes of Petrarchan notions that proclaim love to be a painful thing. This dynamic is stood on its head following her banishment.

Rosalind begins to question the certainty of Orlando's affection. She criticizes his doggerel when she finds it nailed to a tree. Rather than wilting like some medieval flower, she puts into effect a plan. She seeks to test the validity of her pretty-boy's love. In the guise of a boy herself, she questions the deceived Orlando about his love.

Yet Rosalind is not always so assured. Her steadfastness is not cut and dried. Composed in his presence, Rosalind melts the second Orlando goes away. She starts spouting romantic drivel worthy of Judith Krantz. Even her best friend Celia seems to tire of her love talk. This hesitating, yet consuming passion is thrown into stark relief with her crystal clear dealings with the unwanted advances of the shepherdess Phebe.

Rosalind contradicts herself in taking the side of Silvius in his pursuit of Phebe. She seeks to help Silvius win the love of Phebe because of his endearing constancy. Yet the whole reason she tests Orlando is the supposed inconstancy of men's affections.

This idea of Male inconstancy has made its way down to the present day. Men are seen, in many circles, as basically incapable of fidelity. Though a contradiction to her treatment of Silvius' cause, Rosalind's knowing subscription to pessimistic views on the constancy of a man's love places her on the same playing field as many modern women.

Rosalind takes charge of her own fate. Until and even during Shakespeare's own time women largely were at the mercy of the men around them. This is satirized in Rosalind's assuming the appearance of a man. Yet she had taken charge of her life even before taking on the dress and likeness of a man. She gives her token to Orlando. She decides to go to the Forest. She makes the choice of appearing like a man to ensure her safety and the safety of Celia.

Rosalind finally finds balance and happiness when she comes to love not as a test or game, but as an equal partnership. Shakespeare is clearly critiquing the contemporary notions of love in his day. His play also condemns society's underestimation and marginalization of women. However, the Bard's main point is more profound.

As You Like It makes it clear that the world is never picture perfect, even when there are fairy-tale endings. Men and women both fail. Love is the most important thing. With love all things are possible.

"As You Like It" is bar none, one of Shakespeare's VERY best works. It is probably the most poetic of the comedies and contains perhaps as many famous quotations as any other of his plays. Rosalind is perhaps his greatest female character and this work, along with the equally (or even more) brilliant "Midsummer Night's Dream," is the best example of Shakespeare's theme of the "dream world" vs. the "real" world. This play, especially the scenes in the forest, is a celebration of language and the power of the freedom of the imagination. It consequently can be read as a criticism of the "real world," here represented by Duke Ferdinand's court. Like many of the other comedies, Shakespeare is mocking the "ideal" which many in his society would have praised. Though this play deals with some pretty dark themes (which of his plays doesn't?) it is a light-hearted and fully enjoyable read!