The thing about Shakespeare...

Is that he always seems to need a heck of a lot of words to say something that could be said in what? Two? I mean yeah yeah, literary genius, language devices, that's all very well, but when I'm trying to learn my lines and I'm repeating six or seven thou's and hateth's when I could say what I'm trying to learn in six or seven words (and I'm a verbose sort of person) you do have to wonder what was going through the great man's head. I mean, really!
Ok, so lets be honest, when he wrote the play 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' it's...unlikely the poor bloke was in his right mind, (and using Puck to apologise, cos even if he's having a funny phase, that man could self edit). Don't get me wrong, I love how bonkers it is- kind of like me, but you look at Midsummer and then you look at, say, Hamlet, and you think, yeeeaahh, ok Shakespeare...
Mind you, he was a funny guy. I mean, I don't think I've ever had the fortune to partake in such amusing rehearsals, I spent most of the time on the floor laughing (and the rest of the time on the floor holding onto the legs of my true love, who hates me). Whether he was a farm boy or a secret Royal (I don't buy the whole gang of people idea, I mean c'mon, they'd have to have a Hive mind to synchronise their style to that degree, and I don't think there were ever that many people who were that brilliant in the same place) Shakespeare was brilliant. A bit like any one of you.
Because Shakespeare, if I'm honest, in my opinion was absolutely exceptional, and I'm not saying that any of you are going to sit down one day and write Macbeth, the sequel. At the same time though, no matter how low your self-esteem, how bad your latest grade or what kind of job/lifestyle/family you've got at the moment, I think it's important to realise that each and every one of you is brilliant. (Especially you, since you read my blog, obviously. ha) Because it's true! There's something special about every single person I've ever met, and I've got to tell you, it continues to astound me. Whether they can sneeze like donald duck,(yeah I know, so cool!!) or just know exactly what to say and when to say it.
Because if you think about it, it's not necessarily the fairies or the Athenians or the dukes that stick in your head when you watch A Midsummer Night's Dream, it's not those fantastic costumes or fancy (over worded) speeches, their ceremony or power. I tell you what, when I saw it the first time when I was twelve, all anyone could talk about was the mechanicals. A bunch of ordinary, average, clumsy people putting on a play in a play. The least remarkable characters, the ones who's very creation was a joke- and yet even as they stumble through their lines and overact into a tragedy so prolonged it's funny, they're great.
And maybe that's what was quite so stunning about Shakespeare. Not the sheer brilliance, or the way he painted words into a dance of tongues and an explosion of colour and emotion. Just the way he could recognise and forge something extraordinary into anyone or anything. Or maybe he just brought out what was already there.
It's a bit like my director said- it's all very well to want to enhance the mystery by saying there's some kind of conspiracy behind Shakespeare and his plays, something to make the intellectuals feel better and us ordinary folk less intimidated.
But isn't it magical enough to just think that some bloke, just an ordinary, average bloke five hundred years ago sat down in an inn with an old feather and a pot of ink and made something so beautiful, so brilliant, so outstanding that it's still alive even today, throbbing at the heart of our society?
Thinking like that, I guess I can probably forgive Shakespeare all those words. But just this once.