>i don’t need to read billy shakespeare, meet juliet or malvolio; feel for once what it’s like to rebel now, i want to break out, let’s go
knowing me and my orgasms-by-theatre tendencies, this was like my graceland. my dollywood. my mecca.
Just looking at the magnitude of the house, especially when you walk inside and see how fricken big the house is, makes you realize, his family was pretty rich for the 1500s! This house is huge by today’s standards too.
amazing garden leading up to the back of the house, containing aromatic herbs and plants.
This is the Garrirck Inn . .. the oldest inn and pub in Stratford, named after the famous actor David Garrick who also introduced the Shakespeare festival to Stratford:)
when i saw it, the church was completely empty, and i felt like i was holding a private audience with the Bard. there was a red velvet cushioned pew before his gravestone, so kneeled and, for some reason, whispered to him,
“if we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended, that we have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear. and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream.”
i guess that was a kind of tip-of-the-hat to him, cuz Puck used to make me giggle as a little girl.
it says, “Good friend for Jesus sake forebear
to dig the dust enclosed here
blessed be ye man that spares these stones
and cursed by he that moves my bones“
the grave of anne hathaway, shakespeare’s wife:) she was 26 and he was 18 when they got married . . . and she was 3 months pregnant at the time…slapper!
shakespeare did have a son named Hamnet, but the boy died at age 11. and with him went the only possibility of carrying on the family name. between his two daughters, only susannah had a child, elizabeth. but elizabeth never had a child….thus the direct bloodline ends there.
so unless Billy S fathered a kid during his time in london that he kept a secret (which, considering how horny a lot of his sonnets are, is quite probable), there are no direct descendants who can lay claim to his genius.
except for me of course.
the plaque says, “stay passenger, why goest thou so fast,
read if thou canst, whom envoys death hath plast
with in this monument shakespeare with whome
quick nature dide, whose name doth deck ye tombe
far more then cost; sieh all ye he hath writt
leaves living art, but page, to serve his witt.”
the oldest thatch-roof tavern in Stratford . . look at the side of it, how it leans! i love how all those ancient houses still standing look like they’re about to collapse!
makes you wonder how all these priceless historical relics survived the blitz untouched…
was just thinking of some euphemisms for breasts (trying to omit the obvious titties and boobies…)
i know i’m missing some, any suggestions?
check out sue’s blog, a great collection of scattered minutiae that permeates the toronto arts/culture/creative community that make for great conversation starters at the pub:)
a friend and i went to the british museum today, and then hiked up primrose hill for the best views of london. i didn’t know we were going there so i didn’t bring the camera. i didn’t even know we were gonna hang out, he just called as i was waking up this morning. it’s great to just have a day to enjoy london the way i did when i was a jovial tourist, or when i was an excited new resident.
yet i’m still aching for tuesday… when i leave for new york city.