January 28, 2013

I'm to the point where I can spell iambic pentameter without looking it up. Check that off the bucket list.

I don't think I'm stupid. Maybe that's a bold statement
to be making, but I really don't consider myself an id-
iot. It is a blanket statement, though. I still can't change
the oil in my car, and would have no clue what to do 
with a flat tire. So, maybe I'm sort of stupid, though not
understanding mechanics is basically out of my hands, and
doesn't bother me all that much. When it comes to 
Shakespeare, though, I'm seriously worried. Just when 
I think I get it, just when I'm on the Antony/Octavius
 side after battle, they praise Brutus's name, and I start to 
reevaluate my life again. It's a brutal, bitter cycle. And 
now, I'm tackling this beast of a play. Is it pathetic that I 
can't do it alone? This is me, en medias res, beginning my 
play-reading ritual: following the words as Librivox recordings
read in each different character's voice in my ears, and I hurriedly 
translate Shakespearean language into dialogue I can
understand. I've never felt so dumb before. Good thing
the language and iambic pentameter are beautiful. They
make up for all of those hard words and complex metaphors.
Don't let my complaining fool you. This class is my most
favorite one, and I never want it to end. I love the stretching
I am constantly feeling, to expand my knowledge of the 
written word. Dissecting language sure is fun.
Hey, Antony & Cleopatra: 
This is the part where I make you my bitch. 


i like words. and you. write me a few?