THE SHOCKING
MONSIEUR SHAKESPEARE
The French continue to surprise in their likings.
Bardolaters are enjoying a movable feast in this 450th anniversary year of William Shakespeare’s birth. It began appropriately enough in Stratford-upon-Avon last April with fireworks, a giant horse-drawn birthday cake, and the beflowering of his grave at Holy Trinity Church, after which the Royal Shakespeare Company performed Henry IV, Part 1. London’s Globe Theater is undertaking no less than to stage his plays in every country in the world, from Bulgaria’s Roman theaters of Philippopolis to Washington’s Folger Shakespeare Library and points in between. New Yorkers can choose among eight Broadway and Off Broadway productions, while China, ever striving to one up the West, will stage nearly forty plays this year with the help of troupes from England, Scotland, and the U.S.
The Bard of Avon’s universal appeal extends across the Channel even unto the French, usually accustomed to holding their noses over things British, with an exception made for Scotch whisky. Paris will host a series of lectures, conferences, and exhibits, along with special productions of Macbeth. Newspapers are running supplements telling readers more than they want to know about him, including the novel assertion that Julius Caesar holds a special place in American hearts because actor John Wilkes Booth played Brutus before assassinating Lincoln. But to truly appreciate the French commemoration of Will, you must understand that they have surmounted deeply held prejudices to come to terms with him. Even more painfully, they also had to digest the outrageous possibility that French culture might not after all be the pinnacle of civilization. And that took the better part of 300 years.
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