ShareI love Shakespeare. I genuinely do and I put it entirely to my first positive, wonderful encounter with the great bard. It was my 12th year in existence and Midsummer Night’s Dream was on the school curriculum. That year, I fell in love and, as whenever the process of ‘falling in love’ takes place, it was never expected.
Sorry, I must insert a convenient segue here for a moment – you know, to provide context and shit. As all Australians (and, I suspect, English colonised states) would know, Shakespeare is a staple in the English curriculum from ages around 12-18. And when I say staple, I mean a massive fucking rusty metal staple that has been fired into your waist baby fat and has caused an infection in the wound. As demonstrated by the groans of pain and the rolling of the eye that comes with each ‘the play we are going to start on next week…’ announcement, Shakespeare was generally considered to be a fester imposed on the souls of English-speaking teens the world over.
So yeah, this was the sentiment that was going around when Midsummer Night’s Dream was being announced. I was dreading it. It was going to be diiiire. I had heard that it was soooo boooring, that it was lame and that it was such a waste of time. Buh, I had so much better things to do, like chat on ICQ or convince my mother that I could dye my hair or whatever. What a surprise it was then when I discovered that (don’t tell anyone) I actually liked it. In fact, it is, to this day, my favourite Shakespearean play. It also helps that Bill Bryon’s Shakespeare told me that this was one of the few of his storylines that were not plagirised from past poems, historical texts, mythical legends or fellow playwrights. Originality: tick!
One of the main appeals of this excellent play is it’s playful love of the little people. It is only in Midsummer Night’s Dream that you see ugly men turned uglier, but still get the girl. Its pretty amazing, you know. Especially considering that 12/13 year old kids are rather awkward-looking at that time of their lives and its gotta be pretty encouraging that the ugly gets the love. Even if the girl is a scheming bitch fairy queen. And the love is artificially induced. Nevertheless, there is something wonderful about this particular play; there is playfulness of the Bacchus kind – opulent, mischievous, debaucherous and drunken, but ultimately well-meaning and harmless.
Seriously, what person, let alone hormone-ridden teen, would reject that kind of fun?
And, of course, combined with the excellent phrasing, culture inspiring characterisation and incredibly modern views on social stereotypes (strong powerful women, anyone?) that we have come to expect from a Shakespearean play, we find ourselves with one of the most original and loved plays in English language history. No really, what is there not to love about this play? Huzzah! Yay for Shakespeare!
Final note: don’t watch the 1999 film version of Midsummer Night’s Dream – Calista Flockheart ruined Helena for me. She was so pouty and obnoxious. Urgh.
