Since the age of 12 (I'm in my 30's now), I have tried to absorb everything Shakespeare. Even though I have trepidations about film adaptations of the Bard's work, I had to see this film based on the prodigious talent of Emma Thompson. I'm glad I gave into my gut instinct, for her portrayal of Beatrice is so natural and glorious, you will actually get swept away with her performance and believe that she actually IS Beatrice!

Most of the supporting cast is also wonderful. Hats off to the performances by Denzel Washington (Don Pedro), Richard Briers (Seigneur Leonato), Brian Blessed (Seigneur Antonio), Michael Keaton (Constable Dogberry), and a absolutely stunning performance by Kate Beckinsale (Hero). The exceptions in the casting are Keanu Reeves (Don John), Robert Sean Leonard (Claudio) and...yes...Kenneth Brannagh (Benedick). Fortunately Reeves' role is small. Leonard's performance seems too contrived, to the point of distraction. And even though this is Brannagh's baby, Brannagh himself portrays the role of Benedick with a smugness that is a bit nauseating. If you read the play, Benedick is not smug at all. Though I enjoy Brannagh's other work, he seems to use Shakespeare as a way to show superiority. I have seen this in other actors, and find such action reprehensible. Shakespeare wrote plays for people to enjoy and to indugle in escapism...not to give people an excuse to be a snob.

Having said that, this film is very enjoyable, and I've actually had friends become Shakespeare addicts after seeing this particular film. I, personally, particularly love the Tuscan locations, and the costuming is wonderful! No over-the-top lacey outfits in this film, but rather those that would be suited to the climate. This adds another depth of reality that pulls you into the story.

If you are a fan of Shakespeare, or any of the aforementioned actors, this movie is a must-see. It's actually one of the very few film versions of a Shakespeare play that I own. This particular interpretation allows the viewer to become comfortable with Shakespeare's style, thus creating an interest in his other work. Well worth the purchase. And yes, it's VERY funny!

"Much Ado About Nothing" is a beautifully made, performed, and directed film by the incomparable Kenneth Branaugh. This film includes an all-star cast that give wonderful performances and draw you into the lives of the characters. The plot is somewhat complicated, so I'll give a general version. The film is basically about love, misunderstanding, scandal, revenge, virtue, and bravery. That's a lot for one film, but believe me, it's all in there!

Kenneth Branaugh, Emma Thompson, Denzel Washington, Keanu Reeves, and Michael Keaton give excellent performances in this film that you wouldn't want to miss. Although the film is a period piece and the Shakespearean language is used, you will have no difficulty understanding it perfectly.

The scenery and landscape in this film are exquisite as well. I never thought there could be such a beautiful, untouched place like that on earth. I would suggest watching the film just for the beautiful landscape, but it's the performances and the story that you should really pay attention to.

Anyone who loves Shakespeare would absolutely love this film! Anyone who loves Kenneth Branaugh and what he has done for Shakespeare in the past 10 or 15 years will appreciate this film as well! There isn't one bad thing I can say about this film. Definitely watch it, you won't be disappointed!!!

One of the problems with Shakespeare's comedies, an English professor once told me, is that they are not funny. Now, this is not to say that Shakespeare was a bad comedy writer, or that this professor had no sense of humour. In fact, quite the opposite--he had turned his sense of humour and love of humour into an academic career in pursuit of humour.

What he meant by the comment was, humour is most often a culture-specific thing. It is of a time, place, people, and situation--there is very little by way of universal humour in any language construction. Perhaps a pie in the face (or some variant thereof) does have some degree of cross-cultural appeal, but even that has less universality than we would often suppose.

Thus, when I suggested to him that we go see this film when it came out, he was not enthusiastic. He confessed to me afterward that he only did it because he had picked the last film, and intended to require the next two selections when this film turned out to be a bore. He also then confessed that he was wrong.

Brannagh managed in his way to carry much of the humour of this play into the twentieth century in an accessible way -- true, the audience was often silent at word-plays that might have had the Elizabethan audiences roaring, but there was enough in the action, the acting, the nuance and building up of situations to convey the same amount of humour to today's audience that Shakespeare most likely intended for his groups in the balconies and the pit.

The film stars Kenneth Brannagh (who also adapted the play for screen) and Emma Thompson as Benedict and Beatrice, the two central characters. They did their usual good job, with occasional flashes of excellence. Alas, I'll never see Michael Keaton as a Shakespearean actor, but he did a servicable job in the role of the constable (and I shall always remember that 'he is an ass') -- the use of his sidekick as the 'horse' who clomps around has to be a recollection of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, where their 'horses' are sidekicks clapping coconut shells together.

I'll also not see Keanu Reeves as a Shakespearean, yet he was perhaps too well known (type-cast, perhaps) in other ways to pull off the brief-appearing villian in this film.

Lavish sets and costumes accentuate the Italianate-yet-very-English feel of this play. This film succeeds in presenting an excellent but lesser-known Shakespeare work to the public in a way that the public can enjoy.

First off, I must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed Part I and absolutely adored Henry V. Having said that, I found Part II to be enjoyable, yet perhaps leaving something to be desired - like more action. Falstaff and Prince Hal both come off as somewhat disingenuous and calculating Machiavellian individuals. Disappointingly, Falstaff speaks poorly of Prince Hal while unwittingly in his midst. Conversely, The Prince of Wales prematurely takes the crown before his King Henry IV's death as well as disassociating himself with Falstaff after he is crowned King. These instances, along with others throughout the play, show the self-serving tendencies of both characters.

However, we can proudly witness the maturation of the young King from wild & dissolute young Prince Hal into one of the most revered monarchs in English history, King Henry V. Part II remains an intriguing play due to its paradoxical nature, yet unfortunately rarely acted out today. Now that I have read Henry IV(I&II) for the first time, I gladly move on to one of my personal favorites, Henry V. I recommend both parts(Folger editions) for all Shakespeare enthusiasts - they have given me greater insight into the young Henry V - when he was more concerned with downing a pint of ale rather than downing the French at Agincourt.

2 Magnificent Quotes from Henry IV Part II -
"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." - King Henry IV
"He hath eaten me out of house and home." - Mistress Quickly

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.

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.

. . . 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.

a good read, but can be confusing for kids. It takes a while to comprehend all of the Shakespearian langauge, but is very interesting. It is boring at parts.

The Winter's Tale is a lot of things: heart-breaking, exhilerating, funny, beautiful, romantic, profound, etc. Yeah, it's all here. This is one of the bard's best plays, and I can't believe they don't teach this in schools. Of course, the ones they teach are excellent, but I can see high school kids enjoying this one a lot more than some of those others (Othello, King Lear).

The story is, of course, brilliant. King Leontes goes into a jealous rage at the beginning against his wife Hermione. Leontes is very mistaken in his actions, and the result is tragic. Shakespeare picks the story back up sixteen years later with the children, and the story works to a really, really surprising end of bittersweet redemption.

This is one of Shakespeare's bests. The first half is a penetrating and devestating, but the second half shows a capacity for salvation from the depths of despair. Also, this being Shakespeare, the blank verse is gorgeous and the characters are well drawn, and the ending is a surprise unparalleled in the rest of his plays. The Winter's Tale is a truly profound and entertaining read.

The Winter's Tale contains some of the most technically difficult solutions to telling a story that have ever appeared in a play. If you think you know all about how a play must be constructed, read The Winter's Tale. It will greatly expand your mind.

The play opens near the end of a long visit by Polixenes, the king of Bohemia, to the court of his childhood friend, Leontes, the king of Sicily. Leontes wants his friend to stay one more day. His friend declines. Leontes prevails upon his wife, Hermione, to persuade Polixenes. Hermione does her husband's bidding, having been silent before then. Rather than be pleased that she has succeeded, Leontes goes into a jealous rage in which he doubts her faithfulness. As his jealousy grows, he takes actions to defend his misconceptions of his "abused" honor that in fact abuse all those who have loved him. Unable to control himself, Leontes continues to pursue his folly even when evidence grows that he is wrong. To his great regret, these impulsive acts cost him dearly.

Three particular aspects of the play deserve special mention. The first is the way that Shakespeare ties together actions set 16 years apart in time. Although that sounds like crossing the Grand Canyon in a motorcycle jump, Shakespeare pulls off the jump rather well so that it is not so big a leap. The second is that Shakespeare captures entirely different moods from hilarious good humor to deep depression and remorse closely adjacent to one another. As a result, the audience is able to experience many more emotions than normally are evoked in a single play. Third, the play's final scene is as remarkable a bit of writing as you can imagine. Read it, and marvel!

After you finish reading this play, think about where your own loss of temper has had bad consequences. How can you give yourself time to get under control before acting rashly? How can you learn to be more open to positive interpretations of events, rather than dark and disturbing ones?

Love first, second, and always!

Never heard of Mr. Kittredge. I borrowed the book from a neighbor - picked it up, opened it in the middle, read a paragraph and said to myself, 'OK, this guy can write.'

It was a pretty good read. Between chunks of self-obsessed, mawkish ranting, there are some wonderful descriptions of eastern Oregon, and many short, vivid character studies.

I'll take a chance on his fiction when and if I run across any. Whether it'll be good or not, I can't tell from this memoir. But I'm sure it'll be well written.

And if I'm ever in Montana, I'll bang on his door and get him out for a round of golf.

William Kittridge's autobiography, A HOLE IN THE SKY begins in the wilderness around the foothills of southeastern Oregon and retells, in lucid detail, the events of his childhood leading up to his time in the Air Force, to his many marriages, to his emergence as a writer who writes in a prophetic voice with a great sense of prose.
Looking back to his childhood years, Kittridge aims to return to that innocent age and allow the reader to engage in his coming of age...to the point where your feet are engulfed in the wet grass of early morning dew, and you imagine the grandeur of taking care of 8,000 acres of open territory.

In the end, he claims that: "We are a part of what is sacred. That is our main defense against craziness, our solace, the source of our best policies, and our only chance at paradise." Thus, we are open to the realities that life, growing up on the western plains, was not an American historical fairy tale, but rather a true test of ones self-worth and distinction.
A wonderful read...I highly recommend!

Kittredge's excellent, thoughtful, and well-written book is a memoir of growing up on a ranch in southeastern Oregon. This is arid country where spring runoff from the mountains gathers in lakes and swamps used for millennia as a stopover by migrating waterbirds. Enter the enterprising Kittredge family, and during the 20th century thousands of acres here were transformed into a vast irrigated ranch, its chief output evolving from cattle to grain to hay to feed milling and feedlots. More to the point, they built an agricultural empire and became wealthy.

The author, born into this world in the 1930s, looks back from the vantage point of 1992, long after leaving the ranch behind and settling in Montana. What he sees is the wreckage of three generations blighted by ambition, greed, arrogance, and no small amount of alcohol. Kittredge talks often about how personal stories illuminate and ground people's lives, yet he and so many of the people around him are directionless and unmoored. His book is a story in which words like "reckless," "hapless," and "heedless" are often used to describe actions.

It is a painful book because there is so much heartache in it, so much confusion, shame, isolation, and fear. There are betrayals, infidelities, friendships and marriages ended, deaths from accidents and mishaps. In all of it, from earliest memories to those of a man on the verge of middle-age, the author describes a deep uncertainty about his own worth and his purpose in life. For many years, it seems to be only the grueling hard work of the ranch, which he only half understands, that keeps him distracted from a sense that nothing is real. (Steady consumption of alcohol and extramarital sex also figure into the mix.)

The book is something of a coming-of-age story about a young man whose manhood continually seems to elude him, well into his thirties. He can go through the motions in the hardworking environment of seasoned cowboys and field hands (an episode in which he takes the place of an injured hay stacker is an example), but he remains unsure of himself, wanting the security of the family ranch, while hating himself for not pursuing the writing career he believes is his real vocation. It's a wonderfully (and frustratingly) complex picture of a young man self-destructing. And in his seeming indifference to his own children, you sense a repetition of the same indifferent parenting that has led him into this emotional cul-de-sac. Significantly, he remarks often about the lack of a guiding hand to show him the way to be a man.

As a kind of confessional, it is a compelling book, and the impact of the story is underscored by the vast Western landscape against which it plays out. I recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the West and ranch life, cowboys, family sagas, and coming-of-age memoirs. As a companion volume, I'd also suggest Judy Blunt's ranch memoir "Breaking Clean" for its similar themes of emotional dislocation.

"Titus Andronicus" is the most notorious and least performed play of Shakespeare's. T.S. Eliot once called it the worst play written in the English language and not even the loyalist Shakespeare scholars have stood by it. Not until the movie "Titus" came out, have I heard anyone mention it. All I knew before I finally saw it was that it was extremely over the top violent. In fact, when the rare times it had been performed to modern audiences, many audience members started laughing at how absurd and over the top violent it was. I am a very serious moody theater person but even I couldn't help laugh at some of these scenes. However, I am very curious to suspect, as Harold Bloom did, that Shakespeare might've wrote "Titus Andronicus" as a spoof on his contemporaries. The play's content, plot, and characters are exactly equal to Seneca's plays. Seneca's plays however were never performed and we have no evidence that Shakespeare read Seneca's plays. So perhaps it was a jab at Kyd or Marlowe. The movie "Titus" seemed to use a lot of parody at many times. When I saw it the audience was laughing. I think it is safe to say that that theory may be correct. Although even if it was a parody, the play is still flat and doesn't do much for the audience. There are moments though where we can see Shakespeare developing as a dramatist. I couldn't help but think of "Macbeth" and "King Lear" during parts of Titus' monologues. Actually "Titus Andronicus" at best is a great study on the audience. 'Titus' was well received and performed in Shakespeare's day. Shakespeare was delivering to the audience, giving them a bloody Revenge tragedy that was popular in Elizabethan times. I am very surprise in an age when we make films that can depict a man cutting his face off and feeding it to his dogs("Hannibal"), that 'Titus' wouldn't be more popular. I imagine that Shakespeare was trying to shift from comedian to tragedian and wrote a little experiment called "Titus Andronicus." 'Titus' is worth reading for those who want to read all of Shakespeare but to the average reader, I would say pass and read "KIng Lear" or "Macbeth." To give this play more than three stars would be an insult to Shakespeare's masterpieces.

For my fellow reviewers who choose to simply pass this play over because of the prevelant violence, I must point out the complex, witty character of Aaron the Moor. Shakespeare either intended for this play to be a parody of Marlowe/Kyd, or he wanted to experiment with a character, Aaron, to evoke every possible feeling from his audience. And, in my humble opinion, Shakespeare succeeded at this. Aaron is, at the same time, evil and cunny, witty and horrifying, and compassionate and stoic. His final lines, as he is buried up to his neck, left to starve, are some of the best confessions ever produced by the bard. It takes a truly cruel and uncaring individual to not feel for Aaron, who gives up his life for his child's, and who hopelessly and blindly loves a cruel witch of a woman. This play is worth reading, or seeing if you should be so lucky, simply to indulge yourself in the character of Aaron the Moor.

On a superficial first reading, 'Titus Andronicus' is lesser Shakespeare - the language is generally simple and direct, with few convoluted similes and a lot of cliches. The plot, as with many contemporary plays, is so gruesome and bloody as to be comic - the hero, a Roman general, before the play has started has lost a wife and 21 sons; he kills another at their funeral, having dismembered and burnt the heroine's son as a 'sacrifice'; after her husband is murdered, his daughter is doubly raped and has her tongue and hands lopped off; Titus sacrifices his own hand to bail out two wrongfully accused sons - it is returned along with their heads. Et cetera. The play concludes with a grisly finale Peter Greenaway might have been proud of. The plot is basically a rehash of Kyd, Marlowe, Seneca and Ovid, although there are some striking stage effects.

Jonathan Bate in his exhaustive introduction almost convinces you of the play's greatness, as he discusses it theoretically, its sexual metaphors, obsessive misogyny, analysis of signs and reading etc. His introduction is exemplary and systematic - interpretation of content and staging; history of performance; origin and soures; textual history. Sometimes, as is often the case with Arden, the annotation is frustratingly pedantic, as you get caught in a web of previous editors' fetishistic analysing of punctuation and grammar. Mostly, though, it facilitates a smooth, enjoyable read.

If you are looking for tragedy and a dark bloody drama then I recommend Macbeth with no reservations whatsoever. On a scale of 1-5, I fell this book deserves a 4.5. Written by the greatest literary figure of all time, Shakespeare mesmorizes the reader with suspense and irony. The Scottish Thane Macbeth is approachd by three witches who attempt and succeed at paying with his head. They tell him he will become king, which he does, alog with the aide of his ambitious wife. Macbeth's honor and integrity is destroyed with the deceit and murders he commits. As the novel progresses, Macbeth's conscience tortures him and makes him weak minded. Clearly the saying "what goes around comes around," is put to use since Macbeth's doom was similar to how he acquired his status of kingship. He kills Duncan, the king of Scottland and chops the head off the Thane of Cawdor, therefore the Thane of Fife, Macduff, does the same thing to him. I feel anyone who decides to read this extraordinary book will not be disatisfied and find himself to become an audience to Shakespearean tragedies.

William Shakespeare's tragedies are universal. We know that the tragedy will be chalk-full of blood, murder, vengeance, madness and human frailty. It is, in fact, the uncorrectable flaws of the hero that bring his death or demise. Usually, the hero's better nature is wickedly corrupted. That was the case in Hamlet, whose desire to avenge his father's death consumed him to the point of no return and ended disastrously in the deaths of nearly all the main characters. At the end of Richard III, all the characters are lying dead on the stage. In King Lear, the once wise, effective ruler goes insane through the manipulations of his younger family members. But there is something deeply dark and disturbing about Shakespeare's darkest drama- Macbeth. It is, without a question, Gothic drama. The supernatural mingles as if everyday occurence with the lives of the people, the weather is foul, the landscape is eerie and haunting, the castles are cold and the dungeons pitch-black. And then there are the three witches, who are always by a cauldron and worship the nocturnal goddess Hecate. It is these three witches who prophetize a crown on the head of Macbeth. Driven by the prophecy, and spurred on by the ambitious, egotistic and Machiavellian Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare's strongest female character), Macbeth murders the king Duncan and assumes the throne of Scotland. The roles of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are tour de force performances for virtuosic actors. A wicked couple, a power-hungry couple, albeit a regal, intellectual pair, who can be taken into any form- Mafia lord and Mafia princess, for example, as in the case of a recent movie with a modern re-telling of Macbeth.

Nothing and no one intimidates Macbeth. He murders all who oppose him, including Banquo, who had been a close friend. But the witches predict doom, for Macbeth, there will be no heirs and his authority over Scotland will come to an end. Slowly as the play progresses, we discover that Macbeth's time is running up. True to the classic stylings of Shakespeare tragedy, Lady Macbeth goes insane, sleepwalking at night and ranting about bloodstained hands. For Macbeth, the honor of being a king comes with a price for his murder. He sees Banquo's ghost at a dinner and breaks down in hysteria in front of his guests, he associates with three witches who broil "eye of newt and tongue of worm", and who conjure ghotsly images among them of a bloody child. Macbeth is Shakespeare's darkest drama, tinged with foreboding, mystery and Gothic suspense. But, nevertheless, it is full of great lines, among them the soliloquy of Macbeth, "Out, out, brief candle" in which he contemplates the brevity of human life, confronting his own mortality. Macbeth has been made into films, the most striking being Roman Polansky's horrific, gruesome, R-rated movie in which Lady Macbeth sleepwalks in the nude and the three witches are dried-up, grey-haired naked women, and Macbeth's head is devilishly beheaded and stuck at the end of a pole. But even more striking in the film is that at the end, the victor, Malcolm, who has defeated Macbeth, sees the witches for advise. This says something: the cycle of murder and violenc will begin again, which is what Macbeth's grim drama seems to be saying about powerhungry men who stop at nothing to get what they want.

While I was basically familiar with Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth, I have only recently actually read the bard's brilliant play. The drama is quite dark and moody, but this atmosphere serves Shakespeare's purposes well. In Macbeth, we delve deeply into the heart of a true fiend, a man who would betray the king, who showers honors upon him, in a vainglorious snatch at power. Yet Macbeth is not 100% evil, nor is he a truly brave soul. He waxes and wanes over the execution of his nefarious plans, and he thereafter finds himself haunted by the blood on his own hands and by the ethereal spirits of the innocent men he has had murdered. On his own, Macbeth is much too cowardly to act so traitorously to his kind and his country. The source of true evil in these pages is the cold and calculating Lady Macbeth; it is she who plots the ultimate betrayal, forcefully pushes her husband to perform the dreadful acts, and cleans up after him when he loses his nerve. This extraordinary woman is the lynchpin of man's eternal fascination with this drama. I find her behavior a little hard to account for in the closing act, but she looms over every single male character we meet here, be he king, loyalist, nobleman, courtier, or soldier. Lady Macbeth is one of the most complicated, fascinating, unforgettable female characters in all of literature.

The plot does not seem to move along as well as Shakespeare's other most popular dramas, but I believe this is a result of the writer's intense focus on the human heart rather than the secondary activity that surrounds the related royal events. It is fascinating if sometimes rather disjointed reading. One problem I had with this play in particular was one of keeping up with each of the many characters that appear in the tale; the English of Shakespeare's time makes it difficult for me to form lasting impressions of the secondary characters, of whom there are many. Overall, though, Macbeth has just about everything a great drama needs: evil deeds, betrayal, murder, fighting, ghosts, omens, cowardice, heroism, love, and, as a delightful bonus, mysterious witches. Very many of Shakespeare's more famous quotes are also to be found in these pages, making it an important cultural resource for literary types. The play doesn't grab your attention and absorb you into its world the way Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet does, but this voyage deep into the heart of evil, jealousy, selfishness, and pride forces you to consider the state of your own deep-seated wishes and dreams, and for that reason there are as many interpretations of the essence of the tragedy as there are readers of this Shakespearean masterpiece. No man's fall can rival that of Macbeth's, and there is a great object lesson to be found in this drama. You cannot analyze Macbeth without analyzing yourself to some degree, and that goes a long way toward accounting for the Tragedy of Macbeth's literary importance and longevity.

Shakespeare's play, "Othello" is usually recognized as one of his "great" tragedy's (with Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth). It certainly has a quite exciting plot and great poetry. If you have not yet had an oportunity to read this great work, I recomend it strongly. It is still an intelligent treatment of race, family and civic duty, and sex. It also has one of the most interesting bad guys around - Iago.

I read it in the Arden edition, edited by Honigmann. Honigmann argues that Othello has a strong claim at being Shakespeare's greatest tragedy and makes a strong case for the work. He has a good introduction that gives a quite balanced and clear overview on many topics regarding this play, from the "double" time method Shakespeare uses, overviews of the various characters, as well as a the stage history. Amazingly, he can be remarkably balanced, even when he is talking about his own views. While he is a decent writer, Shakespeare is better... In the text itself, he gives quite ample footnotes to help explain the language, why he picked particular readings, as well as where themes came from...

Like all scholarly Shakespeare editions, the notes are in danger of overloading the text. This reader, however, recognizes the distance between myself and Shakespeare and so I find it comforting to be able to look at the notes when I have questions. At times his "longer notes" were awkward, but there is no easy way to handle this amount of material.

Jealousy is perhaps the ugliest of emotions, an acid that corrodes the heart, a poison with which man harms his fellow man. Fortunately for us, Shakespeare specializes in ugly emotions, writing plays that exhibit man at his most shameful so we can elevate ourselves above the depths of human folly and watch the carnage with pleasure and awe.

In "Othello," the "green-eyed monster" has afflicted Iago, a Venetian military officer, and the grand irony of the play is that he intentionally infects his commanding general, Othello, with it precisely by warning him against it (Act 3, Scene 3). Iago has two grievances against Othello: He was passed over for promotion to lieutenant in favor of the inexperienced Cassio, and he can't understand why the Senator's lily-white daughter Desdemona would fall for the black Moor. Not one to roll with the punches, he decides to take revenge, using his obsequious sidekick Roderigo and his ingenuous wife Emilia as gears in his transmission of hatred.

The scheme Iago develops is clever in its design to destroy Othello and Cassio and cruel in its inclusion of the innocent Desdemona. He arranges (the normally temperate) Cassio to be caught by Othello in a drunken brawl and discharged from his office, and using a handkerchief that Othello had given Desdemona as a gift, he creates the incriminating illusion that she and Cassio are having an affair. Othello falls for it all, and the tragedy of the play is not that he acts on his jealous impulses but that he discovers his error after it's too late.

It is a characteristic of Shakespeare that his villains are much more interesting and entertaining than his heroes; Iago is proof of this. He's the only character in the play who does any real thinking; the others are practically his puppets, responding unknowingly but obediently to his every little pull of a string. In this respect, this is Iago's play, but Othello claims the title because he -- his nobility -- is the target.

Shakespeare's Othello is an interesting and dramatic tragedy. If you like imagery and irony, you will like Othello. Shakespeare uses the power of imagery skillfully to develop themes throughout the play. For example, recurring animal imagery is used to sharpen the contrast between people and beasts, showing how Iago and Othello begin to act more like beasts than human beings. Irony also adds much to the plot of Othello to make it interesting and exciting for the reader. Much of the irony used is dramatic irony because the reader knows of Iago's plot, while the characters in the play have no idea what is about to unfold. The relationship between men and women in Othello is another aspect of the play that makes it interesting to read. Iago's wife Emilia, for example, is very cynical towards men, probably from years of living with Iago. Othello and Desdemona's relationship is also intriguing. In the beginning of the play, Othello and Desdemona are seemingly deeply in love with each other. Othello, however, is rather easily convinced that his wife is cheating on him and becomes angry to the point where he cannot forgive Desdemona. He decides to kill her. As she is being murdered, Desdemona tries to protect her husband's innocence in her own murder. Another interesting aspect of the play which makes it stand out from other Shakespearean plays is the race of the main character. Othello is black and a Moor, or Muslim. This fact brings up issues to be explored in the play. Shakespeare shows the characters being separated not only by status and rank but also by their place of origin and their religion. Overall, Shakespeare's Othello is dramatic, well-written, and thoroughly explores how evil a human being can become.

One of the things you can assume when you write about Shakespeare--given the hundreds of thousands of pages that have already been written about him in countless books, essays, theses and term papers--is that whatever you say will have been said before, and then denounced, defended , revised and denounced again, ad infinitum. So I'm certain I'm not breaking any new ground here. King Lear, though many, including David Denby (see Orrin's review of Great Books) and Harold Bloom consider it the pinnacle of English Literature, has just never done much for me. I appreciate the power of the basic plot--an aging King divides his realm among his ungrateful children with disastrous results--which has resurfaced in works as varied as Jane Smiley's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, A Thousand Acres (see Orrin's review), and Akira Kurosawa's last great film, Ran. But I've always found the play to be too busy, the characters to be too unsympathetic, the speeches to be unmemorable and the tragedy to be too shallow. By shallow, I mean that by the time we meet Lear he is already a petulant old man, we have to accept his greatness from the word of others. Then his first action in the play, the division of the kingdom, is so boneheaded and his reaction to Cordelia so selfishly blind, that we're unwilling to credit their word.

Then there's the fact that Shakespeare essentially uses the action of the play as a springboard for an examination of madness. The play was written during the period when Shakespeare was experimenting with obscure meanings anyway; add in the demented babble of several of the central characters, including Lear, and you've got a drama whose language is just about impossible to follow. Plus you've got seemingly random occurrences like the disappearance of the Fool and Edgar's pretending to help his father commit suicide. I am as enamored of the Bard as anyone, but it's just too much work for an author to ask of his audience trying to figure out what the heck they are all saying and what their actions are supposed to convey. So I long ago gave up trying to decipher the whole thing and I simply group it with the series of non-tragic tragedies (along with MacBeth, Hamlet, Julius Caesar), which I think taken together can be considered to make a unified political statement about the importance of the regular transfer of power in a state. Think about it for a moment; there's no real tragedy in what happens to Caesar, MacBeth, Hamlet or Lear; they've all proven themselves unfit for rule. Nor are the fates of those who usurp power from Caesar, Hamlet and Lear at all tragic, with the possible exception of Brutus, they pretty much get what they have coming to them. Instead, the real tragedy lies in the bloody chain of events that each illegitimate claiming of power unleashes. The implied message of these works, when considered as a unified whole, is that deviance from the orderly transfer of power leads to disaster for all concerned. (Of particular significance to this analysis in regards to King Lear is the fact that it was written in 1605, the year of the Gunpowder Plot.)

In fact, looking at Lear from this perspective offers some potential insight into several aspects of the play that have always bothered me. For instance, take the rapidity with which Lear slides into insanity. This transition has never made much sense to me. But now suppose that Lear is insane before the action of the play begins and that the clearest expression of his loss of reason is his decision to shatter his own kingdom. Seen in this light, there is no precipitous decline into madness; the very act of splitting up the central authority of his throne, of transferring power improperly, is shown to be a sign of craziness.

Next, consider the significance of Edgar's pretense of insanity and of Lear's genuine dementia. What is the possible meaning of their wanderings and their reduction to the status of common fools, stripped of luxury and station? And what does it tell us that it is after they are so reduced that Lear's reason (i.e. his fitness to rule) is restored and that Edgar ultimately takes the throne. It is probably too much to impute this meaning to Shakespeare, but the text will certainly bear the interpretation that they are made fit to rule by gaining an understanding of the lives of common folk. This is too democratic a reading for the time, but I like it, and it is emblematic of Shakespeare's genius that his plays will withstand even such idiosyncratic interpretations.

To me, the real saving grace of the play lies not in the portrayal of the fathers, Lear and Gloucester, nor of the daughters, but rather in that of the sons. First, Edmund, who ranks with Richard III and Iago in sheer joyous malevolence. Second, Edgar, whose ultimate ascent to the throne makes all that has gone before worthwhile. He strikes me as one of the truly heroic characters in all of Shakespeare, as exemplified by his loyalty to his father and to the King. I've said I don't consider the play to be particularly tragic; in good part this is because it seems the nation is better off with Edgar on the throne than with Lear or one of his vile daughters.

Even a disappointing, and often bewildering, tragedy by Shakespeare is better than the best of many other authors (though I'd not say the same of his comedies.) So of course I recommend it, but I don't think as highly of it as do many of the critics.

GRADE : B-

This star-rating system has one important flaw: you have to rank books only in relation to its peers, its genre. So you must put five stars in a great light-humor book, as compared to other ones of those. Well, I am giving this book four stars in relation to other Shakespeare's works and similar great books.

Of course, it's all in the writing. Shakespeare has this genius to come up with magnificent, superb sentences as well as wise utterings even if the plot is not that good.

This is the case with Lear. I would read it again only to recreate the pleasure of simply reading it, but quite frankly the story is very strange. It is hard to call it a tragedy when you foolishly bring it about on yourself. Here, Lear stupidly and unnecessarily divides his kingdom among his three daughters, at least two of them spectacularly treacherous and mean, and then behaves exactly in the way that will make them mad and give them an excuse to dispose of him. What follows is, of course, a mess, with people showing their worst, except for poor Edgar, who suffers a lot while being innocent.

Don't get me wrong: the play is excellent and the literary quality of Shakespeare is well beyond praise. If you have never read him, do it and you'll see that people do not praise him only because everybody else does, but because he was truly good.

The plot is well known: Lear divides the kingdom, then puts up a stupid contest to see which one of his daughters expresses more love for him, and when Cordelia refuses to play the game, a set of horrible treasons and violent acts begins, until in the end bad guys die and good guys get some prize, at a terrible cost.

As a reading experience, it's one of the strongest you may find, and the plot is just an excuse for great writing.

One of literature's classic dysfunctional families shows itself in King Lear by William Shakespeare. King Lear implicity trusts his three daughters, Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia, but when the third wishes to marry for love rather than money, he banishes her. The two elder ones never felt Lear as a father; they simply did his bidding in an attempt to win his favor to get the kingdom upon his death. Cordelia, on the other hand, always cared for him, but tried to be honest, doing what she felt was right. As Lear realizes this through one betrayal after another, he loses his kingdom -- and what's more, his sanity...

The New Folger Library edition has to be among the best representations of Shakespeare I've seen. The text is printed as it should be on the right page of each two-page set, while footnotes, translations, and explanations are on the left page. Also, many drawings and illustrations from other period books help the reader to understand exactly what is meant with each word and hidden between each line.

'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!