ruby slippers: Kiss Me, Kate!

Seeing my favorite Shakespearean play, Twelfth Night, in Central Park during the "Shakespeare in the Park" summer series a few years ago was the most fun night of my life (hyperbolic? no), and I developed leaps and bounds as a critical reader and analytical writer during my course on Shakespeare's major plays at Rhodes last fall. This, in conjunction with the fact that I have been longing to visit London since the seventh grade, made me incredibly eager to see The Taming of the Shrew at the Globe Theater. It truly lived up to every expectation.

We purchased seat cushions for a pound (best advice Stevens has given us) and squeezed into wooden, bleacher-like seating. At the time of the play's original performances, three times as many people would have crammed into the theater...including the Plebeians who may have been lucky to shower once a year. Yikes. Although we had great center seats on the first level of the balcony and didn't have to stand, the sun shone right on us for the duration of the performance. It was sweltering. Even though I had to take off my shoes, chug a bottle of water, wear a funny paper hat, and hike up my long dress, I had no trouble focusing only on the play as the performance was so captivating and the actors' portrayals so convincing.

I have never read this play and - aside from familiarity with the famous line "Kiss me, Kate!" and watching Ten Things I Hate About You - I knew very little about it. It was nice that way. Discovering the plot as it unfolded live onstage, in its "purest" form. The acting was incredibly energized and this interpretation certainly played up every possible sexual pun as much as it could (this included the nudity of leading man Petruchio). The set was bare and the costumes seemingly accurate. The personalities of the actors (and the musicians) were plenty big enough to fill the stage.

The play's ending is evidently ambigious. It ends in an absurdly sexist way; however, the script never actually says whether or not the woman who seems to have given in to the sexism leaves with her seemingly sexist husband or not. Meaning, she could have fed into his misogynist ways or she could have merely pretended and then left him. The director of this particular performance chose to have the husband and wife leave together, but many of us feel as though it was a ruse designed by both to trick everyone else. Let's hope that interpretation is correct.

Attending this performance with both "Shakespeare-lovers" and people who think his plays are just a confusing burden made me realize that, no matter how brilliant those teachers were, Shakespeare can speak for himself even four hundred years into the future. His plays are so thoughtful, clever, and often funny that they can, clearly, withstand the test of time and are palpable to anyone, Shakespearean scholar or not.