Shakespeare Relevance Quotes

In such a wild, uncharted place the book of God was vital, for it nourished their spirit and laid boundaries for their conduct. Other subjects simply had no relevance. Trigonometry and calculus would not help them find their way among the mountain trails. Adam Smith's economics were of no consequence in the matter of planting corn and breeding cattle. Nor did they need the essays of Plato or the plays of Shakespeare to teach them how to shoot a rifle, or to make clothes from animal skins, or to clear away the wilderness with their own bare hands.

Today's theater-goer must live in dread of walking into a theater and discovering that some classic work has been given a modernized, socially relevant setting. Oedipus gouges his eyes with a spoon at a 1950's malt shop; Macbeth napalms Banquo in Viet Nam, Julius Caesar dies in Dallas in 1963. More and more, American theater is coming to resemble a season of Quantum Leap.

In ordinary times we get along surprisingly well, on the whole, without ever discovering what our faith really is.If, now and again, this remote and academic problem is so unmannerly as to thrust its way into our minds, there are plenty of things we can do to drive the intruder away. We can get the car out or go to a party or to the cinema or read a detective story or have a row with a district council or write a letter to the papers about the habits of the nightjar or Shakespeare's use of nautical metaphor. Thus we build up a defense mechanism against self-questioning because, to tell the truth, we are very much afraid of ourselves.

Maybe “texts” get worn out. I once debated with Alan Sinfield, a professor in England, who argued that even classics like Shakespeare’s plays lose their appeal or relevance over time. Or maybe he was just saying, as Foucault might have said, that works of literature are “constructed” by cultural materialism and can’t be separated from their political context—just the opposite view from all our “humanists” who think the classics are eternal.

Though I am sometimes reluctant to admit it, there really is something 'timeless' in the Tyndale/King James synthesis. For generations, it provided a common stock of references and allusions, rivalled only by Shakespeare in this respect. It resounded in the minds and memories of literate people, as well as of those who acquired it only by listening. From the stricken beach of Dunkirk in 1940, faced with a devil’s choice between annihilation and surrender, a British officer sent a cable back home. It contained the three words 'but if not…' All of those who received it were at once aware of what it signified. In the Book of Daniel, the Babylonian tyrant Nebuchadnezzar tells the three Jewish heretics Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego that, if they refuse to bow to his sacred idol, they will be flung into a 'burning fiery furnace.' They made him an answer: 'If it be so, our god whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thy hand, o King. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.' A culture that does not possess this common store of image and allegory will be a perilously thin one. To seek restlessly to update it or make it 'relevant' is to miss the point, like yearning for a hip-hop Shakespeare. 'Man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward,' says the Book of Job. Want to try to improve that for Twitter?

Free speech is a unitary issue in which there are no possible divisions. The moral standing of the speaker has no relevance, other than in our correlated free right to judge him in turn for his actions, and it should not matter whether the person speaking is the finest man who has ever lived or the worst, nor whether or not a majority concurs with his sentiment. It must not matter whether a writer is brilliant or moronic, or a cartoonist witty or bigoted, because it is not up to power, authority, plurality or orthodoxy to make that distinction. Parliament can not be the architect of its own opposition, nor the offended the authors of their own offense. Put bluntly, the law must not distinguish between the writings of Hitler and those of Shakespeare.

Oui, partout, oui, toujours, oui, pour combattre les violences et les impostures, oui pour réhabiliter les lapidés et les accablés, oui, pour conclure logiquement et marcher droit, oui, pour consoler, pour secourir, pour relever, pour encourager, pour enseigner, oui, pour panser en attendant qu'on guérisse, oui, pour transformer la charité en fraternité, l'aumône en assistance, la fainéantise en travail, l'oisiveté en utilité, la centralisation en famille, l'iniquité en justice, le bourgeois en citoyen, la populace en peuple, la canaille en nation, les nations en humanité, la guerre en amour, le préjugé en examen, les frontières en soudures, les limites en ouvertures, les ornières en rails, les sacristies en temples, l'instinct du mal en volonté du bien, la vie en droit, les rois en hommes, oui, pour ôter des religions l'enfer et des sociétés le bagne, oui, pour être frère du misérable, du serf, du fellah, du prolétaire, du déshérité, de l'exploité, du trahi, du vaincu, du vendu, de l'enchaîné, du sacrifié, de la prostituée, du forçat, de l'ignorant, du sauvage, de l'esclave, du nègre, du condamné et du damné, oui, nous sommes tes fils, Révolution !

Oui, partout, oui, toujours, oui, pour combattre les violences et les impostures, oui, pour réhabiliter les lapidés et les accablés, oui, pour conclure logiquement et marcher droit, oui, pour consoler, pour secourir, pour relever, pour encourager, pour enseigner, oui, pour panser en attendant qu'on guérisse, oui, pour transformer la charité en fraternité, l'aumône en assistance, la fainéantise en travail, l'oisiveté en utilité, la centralisation en famille, l'iniquité en justice, le bourgeois en citoyen, la populace en peuple, la canaille en nation, les nations en humanité, la guerre en amour, le préjugé en examen, les frontières en soudures, les limites en ouvertures, les ornières en rails, les sacristies en temples, l'instinct du mal en volonté du bien, la vie en droit, les rois en hommes, oui, pour ôter des religions l'enfer et des sociétés le bagne, oui, pour être frère du misérable, du serf, du fellah, du prolétaire, du déshérité, de l'exploité, du trahi, du vaincu, du vendu, de l'enchaîné, du sacrifié, de la prostituée, du forçat, de l'ignorant, du sauvage, de l'esclave, du nègre, du condamné et du damné, oui, nous sommes tes fils, Révolution !

Oui, partout, oui, toujours, oui, pour combattre les violences et les impostures, oui pour réhabiliter les lapidés et les accablés, oui, pour conclure logiquement et marcher droit, oui, pour consoler, pour secourir, pour relever, pour encourager, pour enseigner, oui, pour panser en attendant qu'on guérisse, oui, pour transformer la charité en fraternité, l'aumône en assistance, la fainéantise en travail, l'oisiveté en utilité, la centralisation en famille, l'iniquité en justice, le bourgeois en citoyen, la populace en peuple, la canaille en nation, les nations en humanité, la guerre en amour, le préjugé en examen, les frontières en soudures, les limites en ouvertures, les ornières en rails, les sacristies en temples, l'instinct du mal en volonté du bien, la vie en droit, les rois en hommes, oui, pour ôter des religions l'enfer et des sociétés le bagne, oui, pour être frère du misérable, du serf, du fellah, du prolétaire, du déshérité, de l'ex- ploité, du trahi, du vaincu, du vendu, de l'enchaîné, du sacrifié, de la prostituée, du forçat, de l'ignorant, du sauvage, de l'esclave, du nègre, du condamné et du damné, oui, nous sommes tes fils, Révolution !

The next poem that lacks clear links to its companions, though it is relevant enough as a withdrawal from the particular to the general in a love sequence, is Sonnet 116, `Let me not to the marriage of true minds', an eloquent tribute to the power of love which nevertheless has a sting in its tail: `If this be error and upon me proved, I I never writ, nor no man ever loved' (U. 13-4). Does this mean that it is not an error, or that it is an illusion to which all lovers are susceptible? And, for that matter, do the last words stand independently as `no man ever loved' or refer back to `I' to mean `I never loved any man'? And is the poem a tribute to the power of love in general, or of love of man to woman (as generally supposed) or of man for man, as the context might suggest?

A Problem Play? It's not so surprising, then, that for the last 125 years All's Well has been known as a 'problem play' - a term used by the critic F.S. Boas to describe those plays by Shakespeare that mix comedy with tragedy, resolution with ambiguity, in complex and often unreconciled ways. Over the years, the term 'problem play' has expanded to include many plays that defy the conventions of genre or that raise questions about the ethical principles guiding its characters and events. But its worth noting that, for Boas and his contemporaries, the term 'problem play' applied most readily to the challenging realist drama of their time - and in particular to the work of Henrik Ibsen, who presented audiences with difficult, headstrong characters who, unconventionally, were often women. Rather than conforming to the stereotype of the quiet, compliant wife, mother, or daughter, these characters respond to social inequalities with a defiance, recklessness, and selfishness that is at once damaging and liberating. Whether this rings true for Shakespeare's Helena depends on how we read and perform her. But one thing that does remain constant, across time, place, and production, is that All's Well and its characters are never straightforwardly easy or likable. Perhaps this is why they remain so relevant, like it or not, to life as know it today.

The implication is that great work should, if it is truly great, not be of its time or place. We should not be aware of how, why, or when it was conceived, received, marketed, or sold. It floats free of this mundane world, transcendent and ethereal. This is absolute nonsense. Few of the works that we now think of as “timeless” were originally thought of that way. Carey points out that Shakespeare was not universally favored; Voltaire and Tolstoy didn’t care for him much, and Darwin found him “intolerably dull.”16 For many decades his work was derided as low and popular. The same could be said for a “great” painter like Vermeer, who was “rehabilitated” only recently. As a society, we change what we value all the time. When I was working with the UK trip-hop band Morcheeba, they extolled the virtues of an American seventies band called Manassas. I had dismissed that band when I was growing up—I thought they were great players but not in any way relevant to me—but I could see that a younger generation of musicians, without my prejudices, might see them in a different light. I don’t think that particular band ever got elevated to the “timeless” pedestal, but many others have been. I discovered Miles Davis’s electric jams from the seventies relatively late—for the most part, they were critically frowned upon when they came out—but there might now be a whole generation who looks on those records as founding gospel, hugely inspirational.

The political content of Shakespeare’s plays, with their tales of banished rulers (for example, The Tempest) or princes unjustly driven into exile (Pericles), had an immediate relevance to a nation restoring a banished monarch. Hamlet was so popular that in 1695 two rival companies staged simultaneous productions. The Earl of Shaftesbury called it that “piece of Shakespeare’s, which appears to have most affected English hearts,

It appears relevant to the general subject of this study, and also otherwise worth our while, to inspect more closely the varieties of royal "duplications" which Shakespeare has unfolded in the three bewildering central scenes of Richard II. The duplications, all one, and all simultaneously active, in Richard — "Thus play I in one person many people" (V. v.31) — are those potentially present in the King, the Fool, and the God. They dissolve, perforce, in the Mirror. Those three prototypes of "twin-birth" intersect and overlap and interfere with each other continuously.

I’ve held off telling it because I believe that when you speak, you are always also listening—or you should be. You are trying, in a sense, to “overhear” yourself, and so to be changed by what you have heard yourself reveal no less than if someone other than yourself were the one revealing it to you. Revelation was what I was afraid of: self-knowledge and change. Molly said Harold Bloom said that this capacity for self-overhearing is what Shakespeare’s characters do in their soliloquies—they listen to themselves, are changed, and then act based on that change—and that this is the foundation of modern human consciousness. Or something. I’m not saying I followed it all, but I did take the trouble later to peruse the relevant Wikis, where I learned that Bloom borrowed this idea from Hegel. Or maybe what I really did was hire Molly to ghostwrite this whole book for me, and here she is throwing in Easter eggs that reveal her unacknowledged legislation of my story.

You’ll have to believe me that I haven’t been withholding this to be coy, or because I was scared to face this story, though it’s possible that both those things are true. I’ve held off telling it because I believe that when you speak, you are always also listening—or you should be. You are trying, in a sense, to “overhear” yourself, and so to be changed by what you have heard yourself reveal no less than if someone other than yourself were the one revealing it to you. Revelation was what I was afraid of: self-knowledge and change. Molly said Harold Bloom said that this capacity for self-overhearing is what Shakespeare’s characters do in their soliloquies—they listen to themselves, are changed, and then act based on that change—and that this is the foundation of modern human consciousness. Or something. I’m not saying I followed it all, but I did take the trouble later to peruse the relevant Wikis, where I learned that Bloom borrowed this idea from Hegel. Or maybe what I really did was hire Molly to ghostwrite this whole book for me, and here she is throwing in Easter eggs that reveal her unacknowledged legislation of my story.

The radio documentary “Shakespeare in American Life” includes an episode by Richard Paul on the African-American experience with Shakespeare called “Shakespeare In Black and White.” It asks the question “Who ‘owns’ Shakespeare?” and Paul begins his piece by contrasting a straight reading of Othello with actors doing the very same lines from Othello: a Burlesque that Dylan uses in “Love and Theft.”24 This is a rewarding listen and is of relevance to both Dylan and Shakespeare scholars as well as to anyone interested in the social history of the United States.

also tracked down and quotes, in the opening minute or so, the ‘looking/cooking’ couplet with which Dylan kicks off his song. As Warmuth writes: “The radio documentary “Shakespeare in American Life” includes an episode by Richard Paul on the African-American experience with Shakespeare called “Shakespeare In Black and White.” It asks the question “Who ‘owns’ Shakespeare?” and Paul begins his piece by contrasting a straight reading of Othello with actors doing the very same lines from Othello: a Burlesque that Dylan uses in “Love and Theft.”24 This is a rewarding listen and is of relevance to both Dylan and Shakespeare scholars as well as to anyone interested in the social history of the United States.