#mothers in shakespeare

[unicornofthemidwest]

something about shakespeare's missing mothers. something about love in the Tempest with Prospero's little remembrances of his wife, along the absence of Ferdinand's mother. something about fathers and fathers and fathers in King Lear, fathers without mothers, fathers alone like Lear or fathers glibly dismissing mothers like Gloucester. something about unaddressed grief rotting the cores of the tragedies without mothers, something about a touch of sadness and missing mothers in comedies. Something about Beatrice saying her mother cried when she was born, Beatrice talking about her mother in a show without mothers. something about Helena's biological mother never being mentioned but the Countess calling her her own child, something about the widow helping her without questions, all's well creating mothers and daughters out of nothing. something about mothers.

[writing-for-life]

The Truth of Mankind…

…Is Also Dream’s

These quotes are from episode 5 (24/7):

“Garry dreams of proving his father he was wrong about him.”

“Kate dreams of running away where no one will find her.”

[But you do, and we see your star in so many panels of The Wake 🥺]

“Bette dreams of creating something that matters to people.”

You are the magician who became the man, Morpheus. And you are the king who left his kingdom, but not without making sure everyone else would be okay first--perhaps that is a different definition of a graceful ending, but it is graceful nonetheless.

You’re so painfully human, and yet, you are also not 😭

[yourgirlfoe]

hold me hostage, hold me accountable, hold me down, just hold me for fucks sake.

[hamletthesanedane]

“Girl dinner!” — Queen Gertrude before drinking the poison wine and dying

[rhaenyrasdaemon]

we are what we pretend to be

bojack horseman/william shakespeare/charles bukowski/bojack horseman/kurt vonnegut/bojack horseman

[aaliymc]

Mother I have out grown your arms but please don’t drop me, I’m not ready.

[thestarlightforge]

In another episode of “Suzanne Collins and Francis Lawrence write essays with faces”

And MORE

[a-hearts-a-heavy-burden]

My darling. My love. My graceful, talented, stunning, kind and generous, Dear Heart, Madeleine Hyland.

[seladasstuff]

Idk why but it's getting colder and colder every day, my visions are getting blurry and I don't feel worthy to lift my face again, I feel so small and this world is so big and it's overwhelmed me, it's so noisy it gives me anxiety, I no longer have enough courage to speak, it's been a long time since I felt confident in my singing, I never trust anyone anymore because often I even doubt myself

Mother, forgive your daughter for letting myself grow up like this and constantly making you worry

[shimmywhenyoucantbounce]

Do you ever think about how, taking age-indicating dialogue literally, Lady Capulet is at most 25 years old?

[britneyshakespeare]

a midsummer night's "it's not gay if it's in a four-way" dream by william heter o'sexual-shakespeare

[unicornofthemidwest]

I joke about King John a lot, but Constance in 3.4. is genuinely one of the most heartbreaking things that Shakespeare ever wrote. The way she’s screaming and screaming and screaming and all the men are just rolling their eyes. The fact that everything has been taken from her: Her mission, her power, her son. I could write pages and pages about how heartbreaking it is that she’ll never see Arthur again. I’ve never actually recovered from “When I shall see him at the gates of Heaven/I shall not know my boy” She lost him and she’s never going to see him again. She’ll never see her son again.

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Like grandfather, like grandson - Chapter 2

“And you really don't know what he's up to?” Virginia asked and looked at her flatmate in disbelief, but Camilla shookher head. “I tell you - I have no idea, not the slightest!” “But it sounds very serious…”, Virginia said, as she looked at the noble invitation card that a courier had brought earlier today once more. It was terribly fancy and elegant, even with The King’s cypher on it, but it only revealed a time when she’d be picked up by a driver and suggested that she’d be dressed in “day dress”, so it couldn’t be too serious, Camilla tried to soothe herself. She had been dating Charles for about six months now and though she had always been really fond of him, it had taken her a while to realise that she was actually in love with the young Prince. A part of her still tried to deny it but deep in her heart, she knew it was true. Previously, she had been on and off with Andrew for almost five years; she had been head over heels in love with him and therefore forgiven him all of his escapades, the endless “slips” and the notorious cheating, but when she had caught him in flagrante with none other than Princess Anne at the edge of a polo match at Windsor Castle in one of the stables last summer, it had been enough humiliation for her. She had lost it completely and in a very strange twist of fate, that crying little mess she had turned into after her painful discovery, had bumped into none other than Prince Charles. She had been incredibly embarrassed at first, but he had been so wonderful, had taken her into his arms, held and comforted her lovingly and didn't even ask questions. In fact, he hadn't until now and she was more than grateful for it. Since that day, they had started seeing each other regularly. Charles had taken her out for walks, rides, the theatre and opera, they had been hunting together and he even took an interest in her drawings (though she herself considered them terrible, quite in contrast to his…), he had encouraged her to take proper classes which she had actually done and enjoyed immensely… he had shown her a whole new world and introduced her to so many things she hadn't been open to beforehand. Andrew had only ever taken her to dinners, parties or to the polo but Charles was so knowledgeable and interested in so many different things, it was mind-blowing really, he was mind-blowing, and before she could've thought about anything twice, she had found herself head over heels in love with the young Prince. Her sister was already teasing her, calling her “Your Royal Highness” but marrying Charles was out of the question for her. As much as she loved him and as happy as he made her - he needed and deserved a wife literally “fit for Queen” - and that was not her. If only he wasn't a future King, she could've come to terms with an Earl or a Marquess perhaps, but a Prince? The mere imagination almost frightened her to death. “Goodness, Virginia, I hope he doesn't have any… ideas…” 

Camilla couldn’t quite believe her eyes as the car that had picked her up actually drove through the main gates of Windsor Castle about 45 minutes later. She had never been here before, at least not inside of the Castle and suddenly felt incredibly underdressed in her cute, knee-length dark blue velvet gown, but she had dressed exactly in accordance with the dress code on the mysterious invitation. The car slowly made its way up to the quadrangle and eventually stopped in front of the main entrance, and her heart beated like mad as she got out of the car and followed an equerry through the main entrance - where her Prince was already waiting for her and greeted her with an affectionate kiss, which she, however, joined only reluctantly given the presence of the servant, who, thank goodness, discreetly disappeared. “Hello my beautiful darling.” Charles smiled tenderly and his loving and admiring eyes all over her gave her a thousand little butterflies immediately. “Hello you.” She replied softly and gently patted his bum which made him laugh. “What have I done to deserve an invitation to such an exclusive place?” She asked, looking at him in expectation, but he just smiled and softly whispered: “I wanted to show you something which I'm sure you'll love.” Before he playfully took her by the hand and guided her through the corridors of the ancient castle. Camilla didn't even know where to look at, it was simply incredible to be wandering through the mediaeval walls and to think of all the historic people, the Kings and Queens of long gone centuries, who'd been wandering around here just like that before, until Charles stopped in front of a huge door, asking her to close her eyes. She was a bit afraid of what might happen but she loved and trusted him so she did as requested while he tenderly placed both of his hands on her shoulders, carefully and slowly guiding her into the next room. 

Though Camilla didn’t cheat and kept her eyes closed tightly, she sensed the sunlight possibly shining through a huge window front and a slightly woody, smokey and earthy smell which almost drove her mad with excitement and curiosity. Where was he taking her and what did he want to show her? “Careful, darling, here’s a table…”, he said and gently helped her walk around, until he finally motioned her to stop and turned her around. “Alright, darling.”, he whispered and she could literally hear his loving smile just by the way he had said this. “Open your eyes…” She immediately did as requested and found herself in front of an old and obviously priceless, wooden desk with a huge, and apparently just as old and priceless book with a thick red leather binding, gilded with the most exquisite ornaments of gold in each corner. “This is Charles I’s copy of ‘The Complete Works of Shakespeare.”, Charles explained and reverently stroked over the red leather binding. “Oh… Wow… Goodness me!” Camilla exclaimed breathlessly, desperately trying to realise what an incredible piece of history was lying just in front of her. “It was read and annotated by my ancestor while he was imprisoned during the Civil War here at Windsor Castle.”, he went on, carefully taking her hand and placing it on the book cover as well. The leather felt incredibly beneath her finger tips and Camilla couldn’t even grasp what treasure she was touching right now. “He was reading it more or less up until he was executed.”, Charles went on and carefully opened the book, unerringly turning to the contents page. “Darling, look, here’s where he started writing in characters.”, her Prince whispered, once again, solemnly touching the original handwriting of his ancestor - and there were, indeed, characters from some of the works written next to the respective play. “That… is his handwriting?”, Camilla asked, completely overwhelmed and unbelieving as she marvelled at the pages. “It is.”, the Prince confirmed and she couldn’t believe how beautiful and accurate the former monarch’s handwriting was.

“What’s this about, darling, ‘Benedick and Beatrice?” She asked, regarding a handwritten note from King Charles I next to the listing of Shakespeare’s “Oh.” Charles cleared his throat. “That was an alternative title for ‘Much ado about nothing.’ And, look, here he wrote ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ next to ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He excitedly showed her and Camilla frowned her forehead. “But they’re such… Quite minor characters if I may say so.”, she remarked and he agreed: “It’s strange, isn’t it?”, he replied and  suddenly suggested: “Why don't you read a bit from that piece?” They’d been talking about it, she knew he loved it just as much as she did and so she happily agreed. “Okay…” Leaving him turning to the respective page.. Eventually, she reached Act 2, Scene 1, dramatically reciting Helena: “I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.” When, suddenly, her Prince took her hand and got down on his knee. “My sweet, beautiful darling Camilla…”, he began, and had her all teared up immediately. Of course she knew what was going to come next… what she had been dreading and at the same time longing for ever since that one fateful day back in June… “‘I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well’ - Darling, there is only one hand I’d ever want to die upon because I love it so well - and that’s yours. Ever since I’ve met you - or rather: ever since we’ve been a couple - my life has become so much lighter and happier, everything seems more joyful and brighter, now, that I can share it with you. Camilla, Darling, I want to share everything with you. I want to be with you every day, every night, I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see before I fall asleep at night… I want you to be my wife, my Princess, and, so God will, one day, my Queen!” With that, he pulled out a little black velvet jewellery box, reverently opening it. Camilla, who had meanwhile got down on her knees in shock and emotion as well, couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she eventually acknowledged the priceless ring her Prince was offering her… “Camilla, will you marry me?”, he finally asked solemnly and she felt as if somebody was choking her. This ring, and this whole atmosphere was just…. perfect. They were anything any girl could ever dream of - but she was not one of these girls. She was not… worth it. She’d had boyfriends before and certainly broke more than just a handful of rules throughout her youth and her sweet, lovely and gorgeous Prince, no matter how cute and innocent he was, could not possibly seriously ask her this question. “Charles, Darling, listen I…”, she started with an insecure voice. “I love you, I, I really do! But I can’t marry you… I’m not… What you’re looking for. I could never be the wife you need and deserve…” And with this, she pushed the ring back into his hands, her own hands shaking. She was so confused and actually had to hold back some tears. This was all way too much and way too unexpected. But way too wonderful, too. Her mind was so confused.

[afieldinengland]

forgive me for talking about the production of macbeth i saw at the globe again but one of the things i think it did best when it came to staging a tragedy was the constant emphasis on youth– through props, through mannerism, and through the ages of the actors cast. there's something so much more wrenching and pathetic when the next generation to inherit the bloody cycle of succession are aged between eight and seventeen. when fleance is dragged from his bed he wears spiderman pyjamas. malcolm receives the news that he is newly orphaned in a hoodie (and, with the excision of donalbain, he processes it alone). when the assassins come for macduff's family, his son attempts to threaten them with a plastic water pistol before he is strangled with his own birthday balloon. young siward is a boy of about ten, and macbeth soothes him like an elder brother before he snaps his neck. and lady macduff was heavily pregnant

[hamletthesanedane]

Frailty, thy name’s a BITCH

[steakout-05]

i have crafted an ancient relic

(based off this TF2 misunderstandings meme)