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the-english-student-studyblr · 4 months

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Book Recommendations (from a lit grad student)

So, as I have come to the end of my MA in world lit, I thought I should give you a list of some of the best books I've read, or learnt from. I ignore established canon and give to you recommendations from across the globe and across all genres. Books that defined their genre, or made an impact, or are just really cool and enjoyable to read. This list is not all dead white men.

I have split the list by era/year of publication primarily for easy reading. A lot of the sections are arbitrary. Some of them are not.

Note: This list is not conclusive! This is based on my own readings, and my own, personal, opinions. You have the right to your own opinions and preferences. If you have any suggestions, add them on below.

Classic lit (pre-1700)

Aristole - Poetics (c. 335 BCE)

As much as I hate it...this one is actually pretty important. I know I said 'contributions to literary canon don't matter', and here I am, immediately doing the opposite. But! Aristotle's Poetics is the earliest treatise on literary theory that has survived to the modern day. You want to know where our ideas of comedy and tragedy come from? Poetics. Three act structure? Poetics. Plot and character? Poetics. Key terms like catharsis, hubris, hamartia? Poetics. We had to read this for creative writing, and did I hate it? Yes. Am I a better writer for having read it? Also yes

Plato - The Republic (c. 375 BCE)

Plato is quite easy to read, of the classical philosophers. His works are mostly dialogues between characters, which makes them more engaging that some other dry philosophy texts. I wrote out a longer post with an explanation of Plato's Republic specifically here.

Genji Monogatari (pre-1021)

The first novel ever! Originally written in Japanese, be careful of your translations because most are of questionable quality. I've only read the first one by Suematsu and that's uhhhhh Bad™ but I think the current waterstones edition is decent?

The Völsunga saga OR The Vinland sagas (early 13th century)

Ah, how to choose just one Norse saga? These are both pretty solid examples of their style, and short (always a plus). The Völsunga saga was the inspiration behind Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen (famous for the piece The Valkyrie), and most likely Tolkien's works. The Vinland sagas supposedly have an anime/manga series inspired by them, though looking at the synopsis I cannot see where the inspiration was other than time period. Norse sagas - especially the Icelandic ones such as Vinland - are actually pretty good guides to real historic events, which is very cool. I could go on for hours about this, but I'll spare you the rambling.

Thomas More - Utopia (1516)

Lovely little sarcastic book about tudor politics and human nature all wrapped up in the original 'utopian text'. Surprisingly funny for something written so long ago, and very easy to read. I wrote a longer post about it here

Aphra Behn - Oroonoko (1688)

Hated it, but the themes are interesting and wow did the author lead an interesting life. Widely considered to be the first novel written in English, deals with colonialism, slavery, and honour, and Aphra Behn was a spy? I'm sure some of you will eat that up. Be warned, very 'noble savage'-y book, but less racist than it could've been so cool, I guess?

Early Modern Drama

Christopher Marlowe - Edward II (1592)

Gay. So gay. We're not supposed to call it gay (because of a whole host of reasons that I can and will explain if anyone shows up in my askbox complaining about academics) but it is a very very queer play and Kit Marlowe was too which is even better. Also our one and only history play on this list. Anyone who already knows how Edward II died (thanks horrible histories) do not spoil the ending.

Shakespeare - Twelfth Night (1602)

As with any Shakespeare, watch a performance if you can. I highly recommend the National Theatre version that was up on youtube in 2020. Very gay, no one is cishet. Lots of singing and dancing. Prime example of Shakespeare's comedies with added gender shenanigans.

Shakespeare - Hamlet (1609)

Yes I'm basic. Yes I like Hamlet. In the same way that Twelfth Night is a great example of Shakespeare's comedies, Hamlet is a good example of his tragedies. Mostly, though, I'm recommending this because the castle it's set in in Denmark (Elsinore) a) actually exists and b) does an amazing educational programme, with live actors performing scenes all across the castle! Watching the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy in the banquet hall just adds a whole other level to the experience of reading the play.

Shakespeare - Measure for Measure OR The Tempest

Shakespeare's problem plays. I couldn't pick just one, because they're both fantastic in different ways. Measure for Measure features what can only be described as the early-modern version of an ace protagonist - Isabella - who I adore. The Tempest has a really interesting portrayal of early colonialism and slavery. The reason they are 'problem plays' is they check all the boxes for a comedy...but they're not funny. At all. And they also check some of the boxes for a tragedy. They're certainly interesting reading

Ben Jonson - The Alchemist (1610)

Just a really good, solid play. Very funny. Bunch of con artists set up an elaborate scheme to rob rich people. Also very good for showing class structures of the time. Shakespeare gets all the recognition for this era but Jonson is just as good really, and definitely as clever.

Regency and Victorian lit (1700-1900)

Jane Austen

Literally anything by Austen. She is just so funny, so witty, and I wholeheartedly believe she'd be a feminist today. Master of the female gaze in literature, but beyond that she is basically credited with the invention of free indirect discourse, which is super cool. I have only read Pride and Prejudice, but I have heard good things about most of her books, so I don't feel bad recommending all of them.

William Blake

There's one poem by Blake about a London street urchin that breaks my heart every time I read it and that is the sole reason behind this recommendation I hate Romantic poets.

Mary Shelley - Frankenstein (1818)

You knew it was coming. First sci-fi, gothic horror, teenage girl writer. Gotta love Shelley.

Frederik Douglass - Narrative of the Life of Frederik Douglass (1845)

You know those books that are horrifying because they're real? That's this book. Doesn't shy away from the horrors of slavery and for a reason. This is an autobiography. It is not fiction.

Gowongo Mohawk - Wep-ton-no-mah (1890s)

My favourite play of all time. You will need to do a trip to either the British Library or the Library of Congress to read it because there are no other copies, but I did do a whole podcast episode about it because I'm apparently the expert? You can find it here.

Bram Stoker - Dracula (1894)

I know here on tumblr we adore Dracula, and for good reason. It's horrifying, it's got a blorbo, if you haven't read it already, go with a dracula daily read-through or @re-dracula for the best experience. (Re:Dracula also has episodes where they get scholars on to talk about things like racism and gender and queer theory surrounding the text which is SO COOL as an ex-lit student I love listening to those episodes.

Post-1900

Oscar Wilde - De Profundis (1905)

We had to read a snippet of this for A-Level and I wish it had been more because wow. Most lists like this will recommend Dorian Gray because it's a novel, but De Prof is so heartfelt and beautiful and sad and deserves to be read.

Baroness Orczy - The Scarlet Pimpernel (1905)

First masked vigilante/superhero! If you like comic books or superhero media, this is where it all started (funny how all the firsts so far have been written by women 🤔)

Erich Maria Remarque - All Quiet on the Western Front (1929)

If you only read one book in your life about WW1 make it this one! It is heartbreaking and beautifully written and makes you feel so many things. It was banned in...a lot of places for being anti-war (especially as WW2 came closer) and also because it was written by a German who was anti-war which was apparently impossible to comprehend. The prose is truly something to behold.

Modern lit (Post-war era)

George Orwell - 1984 (1948) OR Animal Farm (1945)

Which one you should read depends a lot on how long your preferred book is and how metaphorical your tastes are. Both are very good explorations of corrupt governments. Animal Farm is an easier read and shorter and is much more allegorical. 1984 is very in-your-face about how much authoritarian governments suck. Do not discount 1984 just because Winston is a terrible person. Everyone knows he's terrible. That's the whole point. He is a normal terrible person, not a cartoonishly evil terrible person, or an angelically perfect revolutionary. All the characters are realistic for their situation.

Maya Angelou - I know why the caged bird sings (1969)

Another one with some beautiful prose. She's a poet and you can tell. It's an autobiography, plus there's a lot of clever stuff going on with how it's written. You could write an essay about this. I did.

Ghassan Khanafani - Return to Haifa (1969)

A short story by a Palestinian author - we were given this by our Palestinian lecturer as an intro to the conflict and the terrible things that colonialism has done to the region. Additionally, there are notes throughout that help explain the significance of things and background and all that jazz. There is a play version that is probably easier to find because it was published more recently but it's not as good.

Ben Okri - The Famished Road (1993)

I did not read this book for uni and I think that may have influenced my opinion of it slightly but I still credit it as one of the reasons I got interested in world lit and translation. It's a really beautiful exploration of Nigerian mythological tradition and its effect on family and politics in this kind of fascinatingly weird style that's both magical realism and modernist? I hate modernism but love magical realism more so.

Carmen Maria Machado - In the Dream House (2019)

What a book oh wow. It reads like poetry. I cannot think of anything coherent to say my brain is screaming. The novel explores abuse in queer relationships, which is something people don't normally talk about, through some very interesting motifs and I love it so much. It is hard to read, but very rewarding.

#studyblr #english lit student #bookblr #book recommendations #maybe i will do another one for theory #maybe i will not #classics #literature #the lack of early 1900s stuff distresses me but also #i am not and never have been a fan of that era #i am not willing to inflict virginia woolf or ts eliot on anyone #my specialties are all pre-1900 or post-war soooo

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averagejoesolomon · 5 months

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Gang, I could not be more delighted to share this chapter with you. I know I always tell you to buckle in, but for this one, you ought to buckle in. I'm so serious. You don't have any idea what you're in for. And if you're new here and want to get in on this madness, you can read Full Circle from the beginning on Ao3. Enjoy!

Chapter Five

The most prominent religion in Russia is Orthodox Christianity, but the national church is the Bolshoi Theatre, where crowds worship week after week, night after night, among gods by the name of Ramanov, Stalin, and Gorbachev. Built less than a mile away from the heart of Moscow's governing epicenter, the Bolshoi weaves ballet into the political pulse of the country. It announces a national pride on stages across the world. It is an institution. It is a sacred arthouse. It is the venue of choice for Russian chairmen and it is the top item on the visitation itinerary for any and all foreign dignitaries.

It's also a spy's worst nightmare, crawling with the sort of people Matt's made a career out of avoiding.

He can think of at least two-dozen different ways to spend this evening that don't include revealing his face to the better part of the Soviet parliament. A single misstep—one unlucky run-in, introduction, or incident—could spell serious trouble for Matt someday down the line. When he brought this concern to Rachel, she had suggested he wear a disguise.

"I can't do my job wearing a disguise," he had told her, and when she inquired as to why, he had said, "Disguises, by design, draw the eye. If you want me to be your guy in the crowd, you can't paint a three-inch scar on my face or put me in some God-awful gaudy wig."

This must have been a convincing enough argument, because she didn't have a counterpoint to match it. Instead, she calmly pointed out that he could either show his face anonymously at the ballet, or he could wait until the Soviets found it next to his name, age, place of birth, and designated passport number. The choice, she had said, would be up to him.

So now he stands at the base of the Bolshoi foyer, an exposed American nerve in a hostile crowd. "All good, Ace?"

It had been Rachel's idea to travel separately, all four of them staggering their arrivals across the past six hours. Grace has been onsite for ages, posing as a photographer for a famous Russian newspaper that took a bribe from Langley five weeks back. Abe followed close behind, masterfully playing the role of low-ranking British royalty and receiving all of the VIP tours and introductions that come with his faux dukedom. He'll join Matt and Rachel for the performance later on, watching from the elite visiting dignitaries box while the two of them slum it in twelfth-row center.

Matt, for his part, has already slipped in through the maintenance corridors under the guise of a furnace inspection that's been scheduled for seven months. He's shed himself free of the branded navy coveralls to reveal the perfectly tailored Versace below. As he fusses with his ivory cufflinks, he wonders how Rachel managed to pin down his exact measurements, but knows a fella shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want answers to. "Patience, Nebraska," she says, voice crackling in his ear. “Good things come to those who wait."

Last, but certainly not least to arrive is Rachel, who carries enough natural poise to breeze through the Bolshoi's front doors without a second glance from anyone in sight. From his place at the bottom of the Bolshoi's elegant double staircase, Matt spots her through the crowds above, clocking the familiarity in her movements before anything else—the stubborn set of her shoulders, a graceful glide of her hand along the banister, confident steps as she begins her descent in his direction.

And by God, she is a sight to see.

Her dress is the classy sort of affair that suits her perfectly, a solid black number sewn from silk and cut into a simple silhouette. The neckline settles along her collarbone and swoops from shoulder to shoulder, paired with soft loops of fabric that drape listlessly along either arm. This weighty, sophisticated feel curves down to her hips, where the dress drops off into an inky sheath that pools at her feet, as though she's been poured straight over the steps. She lifts her hem with a gloved hand, the motion effortless and practiced, and she never looks more like herself than when there's a string of pearls around her neck. With each step, Matt notices her anew, taking in the sheen of the silk, the red of her lips, the soft, subtle bounce of a relaxed updo pinned in place by Swarovski crystals.

Just when he thinks the sight can't get any better, she looks up at him and smiles. "There you are, darling."

Her Russian is technically perfect, the same way her shots always land dead center, and her punches always strike in exactly the right spot. "Are you ready, my love?" he responds, his own contrasting Russian forged in the streets of Leningrad. "I was beginning to grow worried."

He meets her at the final stair and passes along a sleek glass of bubbling Champagne to match his own. Neither of them will drink tonight, but the glass had given Matt a reason to look busy while he waited for her arrival. Somehow, she makes it look like the perfect golden accessory to her ensemble and, after a demure sip that doesn’t make it past her lips, he holds out an arm to her. When her sleek glove slips through his elbow, he can’t hide the warm, tingling shiver that buzzes straight down his spine.

"You will never truly understand the woes of the women's restroom," she replies, and he senses some truth in this predetermined conversation point, despite it being scripted to subdue wandering ears. "Do you have the tickets?"

With his free hand, Matt reaches into his inner pocket and produces two strips of cardstock placed by Rachel before leaving the safe house. This sparks a subtle satisfaction in her, as she mentally checks another box in her fifty-point plan for the evening. Change into her dress, check. Meet on the lower level, check. Pretend to be married, and dating, and in love—check, check, check.

Etiquette dictates that he lead them inside, for the sake of chivalry. Handily, the mission brief also dictates that he lead them inside, for the sake of discretion. Guided by the two complimentary motives, Matt greets the usher with a perfectly neutral hello, and the usher tears their stubs with a hospitable smile. They both receive a program and make their way into the low hum of chatter inside the theatre doors.

Matt has only seen the inside of the Bolshoi once before, when the agency first sent him overseas to train and take in the culture. It's just as striking as he remembers, six balconies carved from intricate gold and dressed in heavy, burgundy velvet. In those early days, a more senior agent had suggested that this place was designed to highlight its visitors just as much as its on-stage talent, because if one could afford an extravagant evening at a Bolshoi performance, then they were certainly the type of person worth noticing. This is especially apparent with the presidents’ box, which takes up two full stories at the center of the balconies and is accented by all the usual curtains and trimmings one might expect to adorn the stage.

Matt and Rachel’s seats are less auspicious, which is entirely by design. The carpet sinks beneath their shoes as he guides her toward a stout velvet seat tucked beneath the first balcony. They offset one another, Rachel’s sharp vigilance balanced by Matt’s casual covertness. As they walk, Matt spots Abe three stories up, chatting to a gentleman with a round gut and a distinguished mustache. Grace is out of sight and, if all goes according to plan, she will be all night. The ambassador to Turkey is ten yards away, the Minister of Justice is sharing a drink with the Minister of Transport, and Matt’s fairly certain that the young lady seated two tiers above them is a descendant of the long dethroned royal family—at least, she’s surrounded by enough armed goons to make people think she is.

If they get out of here without incident, it’ll be a miracle. "After you," he says, gesturing toward their seats. He wraps a possessive hand around to the small of her back, intending to let his lady lead the way like his pops taught him, but something in his brain snaps when he feels her bare skin at his fingertips, a warm and golden flood now washing every thought downstream.

So caught up in surveilling the crowd, he’s neglected to notice one key element about his partner—she seems to be missing half her dress.

The modest neckline sweeps into a wholly immodest back, a deep black V dipping low along alabaster skin. The silk hugs the outer edges of her rib cage, narrowing until meets at a single point that cradles the base of her spine in a gentle, swooping ripple. She's surprisingly soft for someone so fit, carved from demure muscle perfectly suited to the deception of spycraft. The smooth slope of her traps. The rounded angles of her shoulder blades. Matt's eyes trail along her exposed vertebrae, connecting the dots down, down, down her back until he's thinking the sort of thoughts that would have his mama clutching at her pearls. It ain't hard to imagine—except, no, he ain’t going to imagine. It ain’t right. It ain’t gentlemanly, to picture his fingertips brushing down her backbone. To hope she’d melt beneath his touch. To crave the feel of his hand at her back, reeling her in close, holding her right up against his—

"Darling?"

And it just ain’t fair, the way she puts on that alluring tone. The way she glances over her shoulder with a pout that sends his pulse plummeting. The way her dark eyes flicker over her dark dress and the way he could tear that damn thing off her, here and now—

God almighty, he has got to get a grip.

"Uh-huh." He feels his cheeks flushing, not with the sight of her, but with the images running through his own head. He blinks them away, silently scolds himself, and clears his throat with the hope that this one action will clear everything else, too. "Coming."

When they sit, Rachel makes a show of reading the program, expertly delving into the sort of bored small talk that belongs to socialites who have spent their entire lives in gorgeous theaters. But beneath the surface, she’s taking stock of every last detail around them and Matt knows he ought to join her. He knows he ought to note the exits, count the security officers, spot every diplomat that might be spotting him. Except the part of Matt that’s trained to notice everything can’t stop noticing her, all of his good sense getting tangled up in the sight, the smell, the presence of Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.

Three cameras cover his closest exit. Rachel’s lips form thrilling new shapes around her Russian. There’s a plainclothes guard sitting two rows ahead. Rachel has a birthmark below her chin. The director of ballet walks in the east entrance. Rachel’s breath hitches on the rise and fall of her chest.

The house lights dim, and Matt uses his Champagne to wash down all the want.

He takes on his own private mission of reigning in his rampant thoughts, but she doesn’t make it easy on him. She smells like wildflower fields and Nebraskan sunlight. She looks the way rock and roll feels on US-20, when all the windows are rolled down. She sounds like a good idea he can’t quite shake. And that dress, that dress. It turns his insides into a mid-April storm, and he’s not sure how he's supposed to sit beside her for the rest of the night, especially not when his brain insists on identifying and cataloging every latch he'd need to unhook in order to unwrap the rest of her.

The orchestra hums to life and the glow of the stage fades into the crowd. The low, blue light seems to catch Rachel in all the right places. The curve of her nose. The pout of her lip. The sharp edge of her jaw, the tender lines in her neck, the elegant curve of her collar bone. The Bolshoi is known internationally for its magnificent mastery of the ballet. It is, in the eyes of many, the most beautiful expression of the most beautiful art form in the world. And yet, as music fills the hall and dancers fill the stage, Matt just can't bring himself to look away from Rachel.

One day, he’s going to kiss her right there, and there, and there.

He will never kiss Rachel Cameron.

One day, he’s going to hold her close, and closer, and closest.

He will never hold Rachel Cameron.

Matt sits through five full movements of Tchaikovsky’s finest, wrestling with back-and-forth thoughts, before Rachel reaches through the darkness and effortlessly laces her fingers in between his. Her hand is cold. Her hands are always cold. It’s one of those things he already knows about her, and the familiarity is enough to send a pang of longing straight up his arm, filling all the empty spaces in his chest until he’s about ready to burst. She’s playing a dangerous game, dancing on the edge of something Matt’s barely managed to restrain. He remembers with a start that she’s wearing a wedding ring—a diamond-studded gold band made to look old and worn, courtesy of Langley’s top jeweler—and he reckons this might be it. This might be the final crack in a dam that’s already on its way out.

That is until Rachel leans in close, her words a whisper rolling over his shoulder, and he realizes that this, actually, is the thing that ends him.

Her breath raises goosebumps along his neck, his shoulders, his back. It’s all twisted up in the raspberries and walnuts they shared in the afternoon, a sweet and earthy scent in equal measure. There’s nothing between them now, except the single inch of her mouth from his ear as she leans in with all the casual belonging of his supposed wife, and he gets so caught up in the feel of her that it takes too long to realize she’s back to speaking English. “Fifth balcony,” she whispers. “Ten o’clock. What do you make of her?”

On instinct, his eyes flick up to her target. He spots it too, a young woman rapt with the dancers below, leaning along the railing just to get a better look. To the untrained eye, she looks like anyone else in the crowd, but as someone who spends plenty of time trying to blend in, Matt notices all of the ways she stands out. Her hair is tied in a low, unglamorous ponytail. Her dress isn’t couture, like so many others here. She wears modest jewelry made from mixed metals—a cardinal sin among polite society. And he’s seen that bag before, in a shop window somewhere in Manhattan.

His attention falls back to Rachel with every intention of crafting an intelligent response, but he gets caught on her eyes before he can get anything out. The way they wait for him. The way they dance between each of his. The way they drop to his lips. The way he can’t help but drop his own gaze to match.

He will never kiss Rachel Cameron.

“The bag,” he mutters instead, and he can’t tell if he’s still looking at her lips or not. He thinks he might be. He probably is. Is he speaking in Russian or in English? “I think its…”

He’s never noticed the low point of her cupid’s bow. The downward draw in each corner of her mouth. The way her cheeks divot ever so subtly, as though she was supposed to have dimples but never found the time for them. Red lips curve around the unsaid end of his sentence. “American made,” she confirms.

The flood is back, biblical and mighty, and his insides warm with the rushing current. Every nerve in his body seems to have found a way to his front, and the shift in weight sends him forward, forward, forward, heavy in her direction. She’s looking up at him—not the stage, not the ballet, but him—with eager eyes, chin raised high, just as it always is.

Except the orchestra trills to a stop. Applause surrounds them. The house lights come up.

Intermission.

The lights break through whatever feelings were fostered under cover of shadow, and the only thing remaining are Matt and Rachel, far too close to something neither one of them can explain. “I should—” he starts at the same time she says, “You need to—”

He waits for her. She waits for him. Finally, when the space between them grows too tight, she reaches through it, hands landing on his bow tie. She straightens each end, then brushes lint from his shoulder. “That’s your cue,” she tries again. “Don’t lose your head.”

It is entirely too late for that, but he swallows this thought down, and opts for a simple, “Yes ma’am.”

It takes more effort than it should to stand from his seat. Somehow, she now sits at the gravitational center of the room, and he has to strain against the pull, one step at a time. Eventually, he manages to join the dozens of other attendees who rush toward the bathrooms and the bars, and the further he walks, the weaker her pull.

When he finally makes it to the lobby, his head clears just enough to wonder what in the Hell just happened.

The events come to him like a mission outline, as though he’s about to debrief with a superior and desperately needs the notes for reference. It’s the only way he can wrap his head around the moment, working through it one step at a time. Except no matter how many times he runs through it, he comes back to the same two steps.

He leaned in.

Then she leaned in.

And he reckons he can understand the first part easily enough, but it’s the second part he keeps getting stuck on, because there’s not a room on this Earth they’ve shared without a fight. On the relational spectrum of people likely to kiss and people likely to brawl they’ve always leaned more toward the latter, and now seems like a Hell of a time to make a leap in the other direction. This is the same woman who tore him apart in Baltimore. The same woman who told him to get lost for two years straight. The same woman who, when they first met, took one glance at him and vowed to make his life harder than it had ever been before.

A lady like that doesn’t lean in. She fights, and yells, and holds grudges. She tells him where to be, when to be there, and what to wear. She gives orders. She makes plans. Rachel Cameron does not lean in—and she certainly doesn’t do so on a whim, in the middle of a mission.

And it occurs to him that this is just another check mark on Rachel’s list. Another scripted moment in her perfect strategy. Of course it is. A wife kisses her husband before he leaves. It’s a cover. It’s a legend. She’s always been one step ahead of him with this sort of thing.

At least, that’s what Matt tells himself as he meanders through the crowds, and it helps his racing heart slow to his resting rate. Mind clearing, he brings his mission objective into focus and works his way toward the fifth balcony using one of the paths Rachel mapped out for him weeks ago. He stops in bathrooms, refreshes his Champagne, and swipes a bite-sized chocolate desert from a passing cart, partly because it’s his best bet at cover, and partly because he’s a sucker for a chocolate mousse. One staircase at a time, he climbs that magnificent Bolshoi Theatre and works his way onto a balcony that isn’t his.

In Rachel’s grand Moscow plan, Matt has six pre-approved options for approaching a potential target. Since the first requires their target to be a man and the second requires there to be a gun pointed at his head, Matt settles for option number three—the confused tourist gambit or, as he prefers to call it, the National Lampoon. “Excuse me, miss?” he says, in the best lost American voice he can muster. “Do you know the way to the—?”

She turns, and any commitment Matt had to his cover immediately shrivels when he realizes he knows the young lady perched in the fifth balcony. He used to have dreams about her. Spent the better part of a year trying to remember every detail about her, from the red hair, to the ring on her finger, to the way she threw a baseball in the basement of Wrigley field. He last saw her skipping down a stoop in Georgetown and if she’s here now, he knows in his gut that something has gone horribly, staggeringly wrong.

“You?” he says, abandoning all pretense as he bolts toward her. “What are you doing here?”

The redhead moves quick, snatching her leather messenger bag and pulling it in close as she scans the balcony for an escape route. Every instinct Matt’s got tells him that she can’t leave with that bag, so he makes himself big and impassable, barely hooking the leather strap as she tries to slip past him. “Let go of me,” she hisses. “What are you doing? Let go.”

“Drop the bag.”

“We’re on the same side.”

“Drop. The. Bag.”

She’s slippery, in that same way Joe can be slippery when he wants to be, and Matt wonders if everyone in the Circle of Cavan learns to run before they fight. She wriggles against his grip, bright eyes wide with panic, but Matt pins her down easy. He’s got plenty of experience keeping runners in one place. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. “Who’s your buyer? What are you—?”

“On the ground!”

When a third voice interrupts, Matt mistakes the accent for Abe and says a quick prayer of thanks for the backup. This relief is quickly doused when he looks up to find a tall, slender stranger holding a gun to the girl’s head. “Whoa, hey,” he says, holding out his free hand. “Easy with that thing.”

“Get on the ground,” says the stranger, and Matt realizes that the gun is actually being pointed at him. “Now.”

Thirty seconds too late, Matt suddenly understands that he hasn’t intercepted a trade. He’s walked right into the middle of it. What’s more, he’s gone and done the exact thing Joe’s always warning him about—he’s backed himself into a corner, stuck between the buyer and the seller with no good way out. “I’ve got company,” Matt tells the team in his ear. “What’s my way out?”

Grace’s voice is absolute, ready with an instant reply. “Through,” she tells him. “There’s a stairwell to the right, but you’ll have to get off that balcony first.”

“I’m coming up,” says Rachel.

Matt shakes his head, even though she can’t see him. “No time.”

“I’m coming up,” says Abe.

“Better make it quick.”

“I won’t tell you again,” the stranger says, adjusting his grip on the gun. “Get on the ground.”

He holds his pistol like law enforcement, all rigid shouldered and stiff stanced. The sight makes Matt sick to his stomach. “You don’t want to do this,” Matt tells him. “You’re putting real lives at risk, doing this.”

The stranger huffs, like he knows everything and Matt knows nothing at all. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he says. “Give up the passports and no one gets hurt.”

“A lot of people get hurt,” Matt argues still pulling at the bag. “Let’s figure something out. Let’s—”

“We are well beyond figuring something out,” says the stranger. “That ship has sailed, and you’re going to jail for a long time.”

“I’m—” Matt’s already started rolling into his next argument before this sentence has time to land. When it does, it stops him in his tracks. “Hold on, I’m what? What are you—?”

In this profession, there are plenty of people Matt never wants to cross. He spend his days with spies, con men, assassins, and rogues, all of whom know how to make his life miserable in horrible and exhausting ways. Right then, Matt adds another name to the list as he watches Abe Baxter sneak up behind the stranger, grab hold of his weakest joints, and bend them in ways that bring the man straight to his knees.

And when Abe looks down at the man’s face, it’s clear that he isn’t truly a stranger after all. “Townsend,” he groans. “You absolute twit.”

Over comms, Grace says, “What the bloody hell is he doing here?”

“I fully intend to find out,” Abe answers. With a glance up at Matt, he gives a nod. “You got the passports? Good on you.”

Matt doesn’t have the passports, so much as he still wrestling for them, but when he goes to point this out, he realizes that his sparring partner is nowhere to be found. In the time it took for Matt to talk his assailant into Abe’s hold, the mysterious redhead has completely vanished. In her place, the strap of the messenger bag is looped around a small golden gargoyle, and Matt’s been wrestling with a ghost.

“Get up, Townsend,” Abe says, and even though the not-so-stranger Townsend has an extra foot of height on Abe, there’s no questions about who’s in charge. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Matt unloops the strap and digs inside the messenger bag. Sure enough, he finds a pile of little leather covers. He looks over his shoulder, toward the audience below. Toward Rachel, who knows better than to meet his gaze, but does it anyway. He nods, and so does she.

For a single moment, Matt lets himself fall into his own relief. Mission accomplished. Lives are saved. He won’t have to worry about agents arriving at the ranch, or an assassin knocking on the door of the M street apartment. At least, not for now.

But there’s something scratching at his instincts, like he’s being watched, and not just by Rachel. There are eyes everywhere in Moscow, and there are eyes on him now. When Matt scans the crowd below, he spots a gentleman looking back at him. Wide face. Bushy eyebrows. Armed. Matt's short-lived relief fades in a flash as he remembers where he is, and remembers how deadly it can be to be spotted in a place like this.

The house lights flash once, twice, three times, and Matt steps back from the edge of the balcony. Intermission, he thinks, is over.

#Full Circle #I TOLD YOU #I TOLD YOU YOUD LOVE IT #thanks for trusting me with these kids #its a long ride but we are in payoff central

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 11 months

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By: Chris Hastings

Published: Jun 25, 2023

Is this a case of crazy wokery I see before me? Actors ridicule university trigger warnings over blood in Macbeth

Queen University Belfast has issued a warning to students studying Shakespeare

It stressed Macbeth 'could cause offence' due to its depictions of 'bloodshed'

Similar warnings have been applied to the Twelfth Night and Titus Andronicus

It is Shakespeare's most violent play – a bloody saga packed with stabbing, strangling and poisoning that reaches a grisly climax with a beheading.

And for more than 400 years audiences have been enthralled – if a little disturbed – by the butchery of Macbeth.

But now one of the UK's top universities stands accused of 'infantilising' students after it warned them they might be 'offended' by the 'bloodshed' in the play.

Queen's University Belfast has issued the warning to undergraduates studying a module called Further Adventures in Shakespeare on its BA English course.

'You are advised that this play could cause offence as it references and / or deals with issues and depictions relating to bloodshed,' the warning, a copy of which has been obtained by this newspaper under Freedom of Information laws, states.

The university has also applied similar warnings to the Bard's Richard III, Twelfth Night and Titus Andronicus.

Some of Britain's biggest theatrical stars last night branded the warnings counterproductive and unnecessary. They point out that Macbeth, which was first performed in 1606, is particularly popular with schoolchildren.

Sir Ian McKellen, who starred opposite Dame Judi Dench in Sir Trevor Nunn's landmark 1976 RSC production, said warnings such as this could undermine the dramatic impact of the piece.

He said: 'My sister (a teacher) used to show Sir Trevor Nunn's TV version of the 1976 Macbeth to her teenage students.

'She'd pull down the blinds, start the video and then leave the classroom and count the minutes till she heard the first scream from within. Had the youngsters had trigger warnings in advance, the effect of the play would have been considerably diminished.'

He added: 'I remember talking to a priest who saw a number of performances of the stage production at the Stratford Other Place.

'He would hold out his crucifix throughout the performance, to protect the audience from the devilry conjured by the cast. I suppose these triggers are something similar.'

Call The Midwife star Jenny Agutter, who has acted in Shakespeare's The Tempest, King Lear and Love's Labour's Lost, said: 'I don't understand why anyone should feel warnings are necessary for Shakespeare's plays. Unless we need to be constantly warned that depicting human nature might cause offence.'

Sir Richard Eyre, the former Director of the National Theatre who has directed productions of Hamlet, Richard III and King Lear, said: 'It's completely fatuous and totalitarian to try to police people's minds with these absurd warnings. Ridiculous, contemptible, infantilising.

Presumably the people putting out the trigger warnings feel they are able to cope with the content of these plays, but weaker, younger, less intelligent people aren't.' Doctor Who star David Tennant and The Good Wife actress Cush Jumbo are due to star in a new production of Macbeth which opens in London in December. It is one of four major productions of the play set to open in the UK.

Queen's Belfast's trigger warning for Twelfth Night centres on what it calls the 'depictions relating to sexuality or gender. Warnings for Richard III and Titus Andronicus relate to depictions of disability in the former and 'race and or racism' in the latter. A spokesperson for Queen's University Belfast declined to comment.

'[A priest] would hold out his crucifix throughout the performance, to protect the audience from the devilry conjured by the cast. I suppose these triggers are something similar.'

Very apt. It's magical thinking. Especially considering they've not only been shown to not work, they've been shown to make things worse.

Also: Spoiler, much?

#Queen's University #trigger warnings #Shakespeare #Macbeth #emotional fragility #infantilization #perpetually offended #easily offended #student fragility #i'm offended #offended #religion is a mental illness

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gayestshakespearecouples · 1 year

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More quotes, submitter's comments, and credits for photos under the cut!

Desdemona and Emilia

Additional quote I picked out:

another reaction of Emilia to Desdemona's murder:

Submitter's comment:

Orsino and Viola/Cesario

Additional quotes I picked out:

big Gender moment from Viola after they've been trying to hint to Orsino that they're in love with him (also "my boy")

Orsino heavily complimenting Cesario long before he finds out their true identity:

Viola finally expressing fully how much they love Orsino (who still has no clue what is happening at this point, or that Viola is talking about him):

Submitter's comments:

Photos:

Desdemona and Emilia: National Theatre, 2022

Orsino and Viola: National Theatre, 2017

#shakespeare #twelfth night #othello #national theatre #polls #round 1

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unofficialdragonageday · 1 year

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Gareth David-Lloyd Returns to Support TEP!

[I.D. - White text on a purple background reading "GARETH DAVID-LLOYD RETURNS TO SUPPORT TEP. The Dread Wolf is back, and he's here to help Trans Empowerment Project with some divine donations!" Above and centered is the Dragon Age Day logo in purple. Below and to the left is a headshot of Gareth David-Lloyd and an Inquisition picture of Solas. Purple text on a purple background reading "Offering 10 Signed Solas Prints, 10 Signed Headshots, 10 Personalized Video Greetings." White text on a purple background reading "Known by fans as the voice of Solas, Gareth David-Lloyd is a storyteller, producer, musician, and award-winning actor, most recently appearing in the National Theatre production of The Corn is Green in 2022. He is also known for his work as Ianto Jones in Tv's Torchwood and Doctor Who, as well as Casualty, Warehouse 13, Strange Tales, Warren, The Widow, Robin Hood: The Rebellion, Twisted Showcase, Girl Number 9, Dark Signal, Waterloo Road, stage roles including Macheath in The Threepenny Opera and Sebastian in Twelfth Night, and more. He also fronts the progressive metal band Blue Gillespie." "Dragon Age Day is a holiday made by fans for fans and is not associated with BioWare."]

Let’s face it— the majority of us could argue all day about the morality of Solas, but one thing we can’t debate is the generosity and support of Gareth David-Lloyd, returning to support Trans Empowerment Project for #DragonAgeDay 2022!

💜 Rewards will be live here as they drop! https://tiltify.com/+dragon-age-day-2022/dragon-age-day-2022 💜

#dragon age #dragon age day #dragonageday #unofficial dragon age day #unofficialdragonageday #da day #dragon age day 2022 #solas

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emailsfromanactor · 5 months

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About the Authors of Emails from an Actor

From Letters from an Actor:

William Redfield made his first appearance on the stage in 1936 at the age of nine and has been acting ever since. He has appeared in a wide variety of roles in productions from Our Town to Out of This World, from Junior Miss to A Man for All Seasons. He has also been in a number of motion pictures, the latest of which is Fantastic Voyage. He is a charter member of The Actors Studio. Mr. Redfield is married and has two children. He lives in New York City.

We'll get to know Redfield very well through his writing, and he was well-known enough that he has a Wikipedia page as well as IMDB and IBDB pages with long lists of credits. That Our Town mentioned was the original 1938 production, in which he played Si Crowell. He also did a lot of radio work, including 80 episodes of CBS Radio Mystery Theater, many of which can be heard here and here. And here are some film clips:

youtube

Redfield died in 1976 at the age of 49.

From John Gielgud Directs Richard Burton in Hamlet:

Richard L. Sterne is an actor by profession, and his credits as a young actor are indeed impressive. A graduate of Northwestern University, Mr. Sterne appeared on Broadway in John Gielgud’s production of Hamlet starring Richard Burton, obtaining first-hand the material for this book. He toured with the National Repertory Theatre under the directorship of Eva LeGallienne, appearing in Liliom and She Stoops to Conquer. Mr. Sterne also appeared with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, where he played Romeo in Romeo and Juliet, as well as other roles in Love’s Labours Lost and Henry the Fifth. He was narrator of the film Good Night, Socrates, which won first prize in the Venice Film Festival in 1963. Acting, however, is only one of Richard Sterne’s talents. A musician-composer, he was musical director for the Champlain Shakespeare Festival in Vermont in 1965, and composed some of the music used in Gielgud’s production of Hamlet. Mr. Sterne is now living in New York City with his wife, actress Joann Rose, and was recently in Euripides’ The Bacchants at Lincoln Center.

We'll barely get to know Sterne through his book at all, which is a shame. He seems like an interesting person - I mean, he hid under a platform for six hours to secretly record two of the biggest stars in the world! Ah well. It's also hard to find information about his post-book life. He's on IMDB and IBDB, but apparently he hasn't done much screen or Broadway work. I did find a page for him on Backstage, with a recent headshot and Off-Broadway and regional credits. Looks like he was acting as recently as February 2020, alternating in the non-singing role of the Coroner in Porgy and Bess at the Metropolitan Opera. In 1982-83 he worked with Eva LeGallienne again in her Broadway revival of Alice in Wonderland, starring Kate Burton - Richard Burton's daughter - as Alice. Here's a photo from that!

He's on the left under that big mask. So here's a photo where you can actually see his face, from a 1982 production of Henry IV, Part 1:

Sterne was interviewed for an article about The Motive and the Cue in April 2023, and as far as I know, he's still alive.

And about the editor, who is not an actor but will always be a theatre kid at heart: Hi, I'm @bewareofitalics, I've decided I'm okay with being perceived! When I'm not sending emails from 1964, I do things like write fanfic, document the Twelfth Night productions I've seen live, make deliberately terrible fandom valentines (I have Emails-relevant plans for this year :D), and recommend (or not) random obscure musicals. As far as I know, I am also still alive.

#emails from an actor

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chainofclovers · 5 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @tunemyart!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

162

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

695,994

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso is the only fandom I'm actively writing in right now. In the past I've also written for Grace and Frankie and The Devil Wears Prada (DWP) as an actual active member of the fandom. I've also dabbled in Doubt, a specific National Theatre production of Twelfth Night, Dead To Me, Killing Eve, 9 to 5 (film), Supergirl, and Carol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Even now, all five are DWP Miranda/Andy fics. That is wild.

Clean Rooms and Dirty Light

Lightyear

Twenty Questions

Ice Water

Calibrated

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I think I've replied to nearly every comment I've received. I really, really appreciate comments no matter how quick or detailed they are and while I don't think writers have an obligation to respond to anything they don't want to, I always love hearing back from writers when I comment on their fic. Receiving a fic comment feels like an incredible opportunity to thank someone for reading and chat about the story. One of my favorite things about fandom is the interactive component; when I publish something in a lit mag, I might hear from a few people about it, but when I publish fic there's a built-in audience/community and I do not take that for granted.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Maybe "Millimeters" (Grace/Frankie), in which Grace ends the story pining for Frankie, who is in a relationship with someone else? But even that story doesn't actually have an angsty ending; by the time I published it, I was already in the process of publishing a multi-chapter fic that was the third and final part of the series and that has a very happy ending.

No matter how much angst I put characters through in fic, I am pretty committed to endings that have some degree of hope and at least the possibility of joy!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I could answer with so many fics, but I'll go with "The Adventure" (Ted/Rebecca) because its ending is explicitly about Rebecca appreciating her life, sharing this appreciation with Ted, and feeling happy about her immediate future.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

If I have, I've blocked it out. I often put a note on my fics saying I am open to constructive criticism, and while I occasionally get criticism/questions/requests for additional tagging/etc. (all of which I welcome!), I've never gotten a properly hateful comment.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Absolutely! The sex I write tends to be relatively feelings-y, but that doesn't mean it isn't smutty! I absolutely love writing sex and a significant portion of my stories contain some kind of explicit content. I'm not totally sure what "what kind" means but by this point I've written solo sex, couple sex, and group sex in a variety of queer and hetero contexts. I've written more femslash sex than anything else, but I love writing it all!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have tried but never successfully published any. I was really trying to make a DWP + Grace and Frankie crossover work for a long time but it just isn't the way my brain operates. I did write a story about Grace and Frankie watching Killing Eve with their ex husbands, though! :D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not word-for-word/reposted, but I've had significant passages and concepts from fic plagiarized. It annoyed me.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet but some may be in the works?! I've had lots of fic podficced before, and while all the podfics are in the same language, they still feel in some ways like a delightful act of translation.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! The Ted Lasso Ted/Beard podfic @boglady, @podklb, and @rockinhamburger "Just Missed You," which we created for @pod-together.

I've also collaborated more loosely on a couple fics, like the Ted/Rebecca fic "Rebecca Welton, 2021" (@boglady wrote the first chapter and gave me permission to write chapter two and @diane-lockharts permission to write chapter three) and the Beard/Ted + pre-Beard/Rebecca/Ted fic "Before and After" (@theodore-lasso wrote the first chapter and gave me permission to write a chapter two).

I might be forgetting something older, but those are the ones that come to mind.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Impossible question! When I'm fixated on something it's my most favorite thing forever in a way that sort of limits my ability to think broadly and actually answer the question. So it FEELS like my answer is a tie between Ted/Rebecca and Ted/Rebecca/Keeley/Roy and Beard/Rebecca/Ted and any Ted/soulmate situation and that might actually be accurate because I can't recall my brain deep-diving into character quite like this before. But also, Miranda/Andy?! To have started writing about them in 2008 and to still read them sometimes and to have beta-read stories about within the last few months...that's some wild staying power, man.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof, I've had a couple barely-started AU ideas for Ted Lasso that I am just 100% sure I'll never have the energy to write. Everything else, never say never! Either I don't want to finish and won't or I want to finish and might!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Detail, I think? I really love thinking about super-specific sensory experiences and exactly how a character would feel and respond, and trying to carve "meaning" from the ordinary little details that stack up to form life.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I sometimes struggle with blocking and describing movements. I also struggle a lot with conveying big feeling transitions. For instance, I might be able to write yearning, and I might be able to write that same character in a reciprocal relationship with the person they once yearned for, but that moment when things change can be really hard to write.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

As long as it's in-character, yeah! I don't think I've really had cause to do this. The closest thing recently might be Rebecca sending a text message in Dutch. I didn't translate it; translating it wasn't required to understand the meaning of the story, so it was more like a bonus for anyone who cared to translate it.

I don't love it when a character who speaks multiple languages peppers their speech with random well-known-to-English-speaking-audiences words in a non-English language when it feels like the writers is just reminding the reader about this fact about the character. But I love it when it's done in a way that resembles how people actually switch between languages as they speak!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Devil Wears Prada, back in 2008!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Fic I haven't published yet! Always gotta have aspirations. <3

"Lavender II" (Beard/Rebecca/Ted) is a fic that I worked incredibly hard on and feel proud of because it just ended up being what I wanted and needed it to be, so maybe that's my favorite out of stuff I've actually already written.

tagging in a no-pressure way: anyone who was tagged throughout my answers + @talldecafcappuccino @dollsome-does-tumblr @broadwayfreak5357 @itsagutthing @kittensittin @thesumdancekid @fandomfrolics @waywardted @sapphicscholar @majolination + anyone who sees this and wants to do it (I probably meant to tag you anyway!)

#fic by me #about me #20 questions for fic writers #tunemyart #hot dork club

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autistic-ophelia · 1 year

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hiii sorry if this is a super weird question but I'm only just getting into the Shakespeare fandom and I was wondering if there were any textually gay people in Shakespeare? I've only read a couple of plays (my favorite is Hamlet) and obviously there's the subtext stuff but are there any that are 100% in the text?

Hi!

First, this is not a weird question at all! Hope that you're ready for Shakespeare to consume your entire brain like it did for me lmao

Second, you might be surprised to know that there are multiple undeniably queer characters in the canon (though be aware, I haven’t read the full canon so I may miss some things that other people will add). Antonio from twelfth night, Richard and his favourites from Richard ii, and Achilles and Patroclus from Troilus and Cressida all textually experience same gender attraction!

I know you specified textual but I feel like it's important to mention some of the more heavily coded characters as well. Honourable mentions go out to: Coriolanus and Aufidius (Coriolanus) , Brutus and Cassius (Julius Caesar), and (to an extent) Orsino (twelfth night). Plus some characters that have Big Gender like Viola/caesario (twelfth night) and Rosalind/Ganymede (as you like it). Very special thanks to my wonderful irl friend who helped me make a list. If you’re after some gay adaptations, said friend recommends the David Tennant Richard ii and the national theatre twelfth night (which is my favourite version of tn) (extra note from friend: be aware of the fact that there is some added incest in the Tennant production). I’d also like to add the national theatre Midsummer. Other people are encouraged to add recs!

Also, while not a play, I’d be remiss to not mention the sonnets. The first 126 (!) of Shakespeare’s sonnets are addressed to the “fair youth”, a young man that Shakespeare was in love with. You may already know this, but the super famous sonnet that starts “shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” was written for the fair youth!

#hope this is what you were after anon! best of luck in your Shakespeare adventure :D #holla you clown!#shakespeare

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littlequeenies · 1 year

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Katie Geraldine Scarfe (b. April 17th, 1974) is an English stage, radio, TV & voice actress, the oldest daughter of actress Jane Asher and her husband cartoonist Gerald Scarfe. Katie has two younger brothers, artist Alex Scarfe and book editor Rory Christopher Scarfe. She also has two elder half-siblings, Rupert and Araminta Scarfe from her father's previous relationships.

She graduated from Bristol University in 1995. She trained at LAMDA (London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art; BA (Hons) Acting, 2007-2009). Credits whilst at LAMDA include Maria in "Twelfth Night (2008), Lady Bracknell in "The Importance of Being Earnest" (2009), Molly in "Passport to Pimlico" (2009), "The Girl in The Blue Room" (2009), u/s Pattie and Rachel in "Season's Greetings" (National Theatre, 2010/11).

Her theatre career includes "Just Whores" (New Venture Theatre, summer 2003), "Freakshow", as Eve (New Venture Theatre, fall 2003), her role of Constanze in "Amadeus" ( New Venture Theatre, Brighton, 2005), her role of Richmond in "Richard III" (Brighton Festival, 2007), her role of The Duchess in "Mercury Fur" (Old Red Lion, Trafalgar Studios, 2012) and her role of the Queen in "Beyond Beauty" (Rebel Theatre, fall 2012). In 2015 she acted on the stage along with her mother Jane Asher in "The Gathered Leaves" (Park Theatre).

Radio, television and film credits include her role of Brenda in "The Wistleblower" film, the part of Kerry Harrison in "The Real Kathy Haydn" (Channel 4, 2007), "The Long Walk Home" film (2007), "Nunc Demittis", part of the "Someone Like You" collection, for BBC Radio 4 (2009), her role of Emily Coulson in "Holby City" (BBC, 2010), Sophie in the 2010 film "The Engagement Party", the poet female in "The Cult" film (2010), the short "The Adbucted", as Dr. Murphy in ITV's "Emmerdale Farm" (Yorkshire television, 2012), "A Little Twist of Dahl" (BBC Radio 4) and the short "The Listener" (2014) and the part of Liz Wilde again in in "Holby City" (2015).

Pictured, Katie and her father Gerald Scarfe at the South Bank Show, at the Savoy Hotel, on the 22nd January 1998 in London.

*We don’t own any of the copyrights of these photos*

OUR KATIE SCARFE PHOTO COLLECTION HOSTED AT GOOGLE PHOTOS

#Katie Scarfe #Gerald Scarfe #1998 Katie #actress #voice actress #1990s Katie #google photos #join #share #sharing is caring

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madeline-kahn · 2 years

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hi robin, it’s your psc anon! i notice you like shakespeare, so i’m curious to know what your favorite work of his is. i feel like nowadays it’s become sort of cool to think shakespeare is too “old timey” or he’s not that great but tbh i feel like the content of his stuff really is timeless, it’s just the language and references that are dated - i’m interested in your thoughts too!

Hi!!! Omg yes I'm super into Shakespeare! I totally agree that he's super timeless! Just look at how many great modern set movies are partly or entirely adaptations. The language itself can be so intimidating and that really scares people off but the annotated versions or SparkNotes can help so much. Not to mention they weren't meant to be read like books anyway, they were meant to be performed so I don't even really think people should feel they need to read the plays unless they're interested in doing so. You're so much better off finding a good adaptation or production and just supplementing yourself with a synopsis.

My favorite work is definitely Hamlet. I love the speeches, I love the themes and the conflict I love so many of the performances I've seen. If I had the nerve to get a big tattoo (or any tattoo for that matter) I'd want something Hamlet themed. If you're in need of a good Hamlet production I highly recommend the Globe Theatre version with Michelle Tierry as Hamlet... really good direction I love the gender swaps in the casting and the performances are awesome. David Tennant's is great too it was actually the first Hamlet I watched!

I also really like A Midsummer Night's Dream, Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, M*cbeth, Julius Caesar and King Lear. I could go on about my favorite productions for ages but I'll just be brief and say that if you only watch one (and you can find it.. I know I saw it on youtube but that was limited availability I think) watch the National Theatre Live version of A Midsummer Night's Dream it is so much fun.

#psc anon #okay that was a lot... i don't shut up sometimes

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qnewslgbtiqa · 1 month

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From The Beat nightclub to Broadway: Producer Toby Simkin dies

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/beat-megaclub-to-broadway-vale-producer-toby-simkin/

From The Beat nightclub to Broadway: Producer Toby Simkin dies

International Broadway producer Toby Simkin, who started his career in Brisbane and managed the Beat Megaclub, has died.

The award-winning theatre producer died at age 59 at his Shanghai home on April 7.

Toby grew up in Brisbane and his arts career got a jumpstart when he received an Elizabeth Bequest Scholarship at age 16.

It led to work at the Queensland Theatre Company, the Twelfth Night Theatre Company and many more across the country.

By night, Toby worked at the Cockatoo Club in Fortitude Valley and became general manager of the newly-renamed The Beat.

At the time, homosexuality was illegal, police were corrupt and Premier Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen “actively used homophobia for electoral advantage,” Toby recalled.

“Anti-gay laws were intensely enforced by Queensland police throughout the 1980s,” he said.

“Police raids intensified. Some police would come to The Beat for ‘poofter hunts’ and turned a blind eye to bashings.

“Some police detectives, out of uniform, would return to The Beat later in the night to drink and have fun. It was a weird experience.”

‘A game of us vs them’

Toby Simkin recalled the Bjelke-Petersen government creating liquor laws specifically to target gay men at Brisbane’s gay clubs.

“It became a game of ‘us’ vs ‘them’ — the ‘them’ being the police, the politicians, the poofter bashers and often, our own families,” Toby recalled.

“This stupid game helped solidify a gay Brisbane community united in just wanting acceptance.

“The more the government and police pushed us, the more brazen we would become.”

Toby also found work as a model and a stripper at a burlesque theatre in a show called Pisstols.

He claimed to have escaped HIV/AIDS in the 1980s because “I did so much cocaine I couldn’t have sex.”

In 1987, Toby made the move to the US. He said he did so “with no visa, with my money tied up in real estate, alone, cash penniless, but with a dream of the theatrical pinnacle, Broadway.”

Toby Simkin ‘a leader in every sense of the word’

Toby Simkin achieved that dream. He would work on Tony Award-winning productions of I Am My Own Wife, Long Day’s Journey Into Night, Death of a Salesman, and the Tony-nominated productions of The Crucible and The Price.

Over his career, Toby was involved in the marketing and management of over 120 Broadway shows.

In the early 1990s, Toby Simkin was an early adopter of the Internet. He revolutionised the theatre industry by creating the first online ticketing systems – Ticketmaster insisted it wouldn’t catch on – as well as email marketing and theatre livestreaming.

In the 2000s, he moved to Shanghai and developed a national theatre network in China.

Toby Simkin is survived by his partner Darrell “DJ” Wizniak, a dancer he met in Canada.

In a tribute, Creative Australia’s CEO Adrian Collette declared Toby Simkin “a leader in every sense of the word in theatre and across the arts.”

Adrian recognised Toby’s “incredible achievements in the production of commercial theatre in Australia, on Broadway, in London’s West End, and globally.”

“His loss will be felt in every corner of the world. He made a mark not just with incredible talent but also with his generosity,” he said.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

#Brisbane

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jupitercl0uds · 9 months

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random shakespeare rant that barely makes sense???

actually important things to take away from this (you cant really do a tl;dr): i may start posting twelfth night stuff on my blog. yeah. possibly even a couple of things from the tempest if i get back into that too.

so um. reading macbeth and like. i think im finally acknowledging that unfortunately, 12 y/o me was projecting when i read twelfth night. i reeeally like twelfth night (particularly the version they showed in my school ill mention it more later) and kinda went. 'ok shakespeare was probably a queer feminist icon this play is so goood yummers!!!!😋👍' and well. looking back um. no.

macbeth (play) is kinda misogynistic, yeah, you probably discussed that if you had to analyse it. basically, all the women are manipulative and/or incapable. pretty normal stuff considering the time, whatever.

this mildly hurts because i was hyperfixated on twelfth night and yeah.

i actually just wanna say tho that i was SO mad because the version i watched had orsino kiss viola, still thinking of her as cesario and i, as a panromantic 12 y/o, was like 'omg pansexual icon yesss we love to see it ^^'. this kiss is not in the play. those national theatre people LIED to me! which, i mean, i guess that's their job, seeing as theyre actors??? but whatever.

anyway, this reminds me of how in the tempest theres a bit where prospero calls ariel a twink. me and my friend decided to highlight and circle it and just. referenced it. a lot. also i love ariel!!!

btw this is what me explaining something sounds like??? like when i say it aloud??? yeah i dont understand either

#spouting to the void #shakespeare

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crackspinewornpages · 1 year

Text

Les Misérables 280/365 -Victor Hugo

BOOK ELEVENTH THE ATOM FRATERNIZES WITH THE HURRICANE

271

The insurrections started to advance following the hearse at the head, the ranks were shaken and fled. At that time a ragamuffin child took a pistol with no trigger from a show window, a few minutes later he was singing about frightened bourgeoise. After helping his father that night he went back to the elephant, gave his two brothers food and left them to the street that raised him, giving them a spot to meet up but the two didn’t return and Gavroche wondered about it for twelve weeks. “The lowest depths of the actual social world are full of these lost traces.”p.679 (how many stories abruptly ended) In Rue Saint-Louis, Gavroche tore down theatre posters and spits at fat rich people.

272

He brandishes his triggerless pistol, he’s had enough despotism, he helped a fallen National Guard right his horse and continued on in the apathy. Four decrepit gossipers, three portresses and a rag picker, they discuss the paper, once it reported how many stray dogs there were and old kings, now things are so poor and expensive, no one throws out anything anymore. (2023 feels ya) Gavroche asks why they’re talking politics; he bites his thumb at them (like flipping the bird) when they are rude to him. They comment there’s evil about, pistols everywhere after things started to get peaceful again. “You’re in the wrong to insult the revolutionists, Mother Dust-Heap-Corner. This pistol is in your interests. It’s so that you may have more good things to eat in your basket.”p.681

273

The hairdresser who chased Gavroche’s two brothers off was shaving an old Empire soldier and talking of Lamarque’s death and the riots. The soldier said the emperor didn’t know how to fall, so didn’t, he had a fine white horse. As a veteran, he was wounded in many battles including Waterloo. The hairdresser thinks it’s better to die quick in battle than bit by bit by illness when the window exploded from a rock Gavroche threw and the hairdresser laments what has anyone done to him, (really you don’t know) he just does mischief for pleasure.

274

In Marche Saint-Jean, Gavroche met with Enjorlas and his friends, they were armed and Gavroche had him come along to Quai Morland. The bourgeoise cried in fear at Bahorel’s scarlet waistcoat, Gavroche studied Bahorel as Enjorlas warned him about wasting supply. Bahorel mentioned Herde, that was on a poster he tore down and asked what it meant, dog in Latin. More students, artisans, laborers and such joined them and an unarmed old man, Mabeuf.

275

Enjorlas and his friends were on Boulevard Bourdon when the dragoons made their charge. They fled to the barricades and Courfeyrac recognised Mabeuf stumbling in the street and warned him to go home but he followed them not saying a word or taking arms as he advanced to the front rank and Gavroche made his way to the front too and sang of Charley asking Charlotte when to go to the forest.

276

A man whose hair was turning gray joined them, Courfeyrac remarked on it but Gavroche didn’t pay attention. (wonder who this could be) Courfeyrac left to retrieve his hat and purse and hid a coffer on his person. A portress called out to him that someone wanted to talk to him, a youthful artisan in tattered clothes wants to know where Marius is and when told he doesn’t know they followed Courfeyrac to the barricade. (wonder who this could be) He gave someone his coffer as the mob didn’t know what to do next in Rue Saint-Denis.

BOOK TWELFTH CORINTHE

277

Now a days, Parisians notice on the right, opposite of Rue Mondetour, a sign of Napoleon. A terrible scene witnessed thirty years ago, a public house. Corinthe, the obscure barricade of Rue de la Chanvrerie a labyrinth of four streets, seven islands of houses, cut up narrow streets, Rue Saint-Denis was a funnel leading to the other streets and taverns. Corinthe was a popular wine house and Hucheloup also offered food, a specialty of stuffed carps. The labyrinth was opened in 1847 and probably no longer exists now, Rue de la Chanvrerie and Corinthe disappeared under Rue Rombuteau. Corinthe was a meeting place of Courfeyrac and his friends, Grantaire discovered, it they paid badly if at all but were welcome, (they didn’t pay and they allow them to come and eat free food and down bottles of wine how did they not go out of business) in 1830 Hucheloup died, the cooking deteriorated and the bad wine worse, but Courfeyrac and his friends still went. (still free food and wine) The restaurant hall had tables and chairs lighted by one window (oh oh I know where this is going) served by window Hucheloup and two girls, Matelote and Gibelotte.

278

Laigle lived with Joly (they were roomates) and did everything in common, on June 5th they went to Corinthe for breakfast and Grantaire joins them with wine, two bottles and Laigle teases him for it. Laigle says they just saw the head of the procession; the street is so quiet. Grantaire complains of the food and servants, he hates the human race, he drinks more and goes on a tangent of revolutions, law, how he would lead straightforward, progress advances by men and events, everything is in disorder. (two page rant) Human and royal destiny worn and threadbare, he sees so much misery, God can't be rich, a poverty-stricken universe, creation bankrupt, it’s why he’s discontented, maybe daylight won’t come. He speaks without evil intent, he was born for other positions, people are too hard on Turks, Mohammed had his points. It appears they are going to massacre each other, it’s time to enlighten the human race. “People strive, turn each other out, prostitute themselves, kill each other, and get used to it!”p.693

He went on about Marius in a vapor of his love affair, he’s of the poet race. He was on his second bottle when a child entered looking for Bossuet, (Laigle’s other name remember cause I forgot) Laigle asks what does he want, to pass on the message ABC. Laigle has the two lend him a twenty-sou piece and paid the boy Navet (Gavroche’s friend) who has to join the procession to shout Down with Polignoc! Grantaire starts talking about Gamins when Laigle interrupted, it was a warning of the burial of Lamarque, Grantaire doesn’t think much of revolution and continues to drink and declare he won't go. The three drank past noon and turned Grantaire back towards cheerfulness when they heard the call to arms in the streets and their friends called to Courfeyrac to build a barricade there.

279

Corinthe was an obstacle, Rue Mondetour easily barricaded, the only possible attack was right in sight at Rue Saint-Denis. There was terror of the mob, people fled buildings shut up as things were torn up to bar the street. “There is nothing like the bond of the populace for building everything that is built by demolishing.”p.696 Omnibuses weren't allowed entry as Grantaire makes an ass of himself and Enjorlas tells him to go off, don’t disgrace the barricade (Don’t Let The Wine Go To Your Brains~), it sobered up Grantaire and asks to sleep there to die. Enjorlas doubts he’s capable of even dying, Grantaire tells him he’ll see. (oooh hm this is gonna hurt)

280

Courfeyrac demolished the wine shop telling window Hucheloup it was to her benefit which she doubted. When the rain stopped barrels of powder were brought and torches. Enjorlas, Courfeyrac and Combeferre directed the construction of more barricades with their motley crew. (saw a poll out of 3,714 votes of material to build a barricade 24.1% threw in coffins) “One would have pronounced them brothers, but they did not know each other’s names. Great perils have this fine characteristic, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers.”p.698 The lofty gray-haired man helped to build a barricade and so was Gavroche and the man who asked for Marius disappeared. Gavroche went about in readiness in joy telling them to booby trap with glass and he wants a real gun if Enjorlas dies before him he’ll take his. (I like Gavroche he’s a little shit)

#Les Miserables #Victor Hugo #books #epic #historical fiction #tragedy

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