Kek Kerel on Nostr: ren ☃️merry chrimist☃️ >ACT III opens with some funny moments as the ...
ren (npub1vdd…tkfq) ☃️merry chrimist☃️ (npub1pt6…6mf6)
>ACT III opens with some funny moments as the performers think of disclaimers to put before their play, like saying the lion isn't really a lion or that the person playing the role of pyramus doesn't actually die, to avoid scaring the ladies. they settle on the lion speaking and politely introducing himself as the man playing him before making a million other changes. lions actually used to live in greece even after the classical period ended... anyway i have a feeling the play they're writing is going to suck
I don't know if Pyramus and thisbe survives outside of Ovid. Makes me wonder. This story has such Ovidian overtones.
Yeah there was a Grecian lion at one time, surviving as far back as the time of the Trojan War, if I remember correctly.
>in this play hate is presented as the opposite of love; if you don't actively love someone you must hate them. in reality the opposite of love is indifference, and in fact love necessarily carries much hate within itself, and the two are inextricable.
But so often does a jilted or long unrequited lover turn immediately to hate. But you're probably right. But it's like the longing never ends, and proceeds to its darker manifestation when the love cannot be realized.
>night is a magical time. it came to mind here that reading a play has an advantage over seeing one performed. when you go to see one the set-designers are responsible for creating the places where the play takes place, but reading it you can imagine it detached from any physical stage, any hall, any audience. the actors aren't actors, they simply are the characters, and portray themselves; grassy fields and castles and towns, you can imagine these places that could never perfectly be recreated on a stage in your own head.
Some plays are unreadable. Only enjoyable when you see it performed. I suppose Shakespeare isn't like that though.
>ACT III opens with some funny moments as the performers think of disclaimers to put before their play, like saying the lion isn't really a lion or that the person playing the role of pyramus doesn't actually die, to avoid scaring the ladies. they settle on the lion speaking and politely introducing himself as the man playing him before making a million other changes. lions actually used to live in greece even after the classical period ended... anyway i have a feeling the play they're writing is going to suck
I don't know if Pyramus and thisbe survives outside of Ovid. Makes me wonder. This story has such Ovidian overtones.
Yeah there was a Grecian lion at one time, surviving as far back as the time of the Trojan War, if I remember correctly.
>in this play hate is presented as the opposite of love; if you don't actively love someone you must hate them. in reality the opposite of love is indifference, and in fact love necessarily carries much hate within itself, and the two are inextricable.
But so often does a jilted or long unrequited lover turn immediately to hate. But you're probably right. But it's like the longing never ends, and proceeds to its darker manifestation when the love cannot be realized.
>night is a magical time. it came to mind here that reading a play has an advantage over seeing one performed. when you go to see one the set-designers are responsible for creating the places where the play takes place, but reading it you can imagine it detached from any physical stage, any hall, any audience. the actors aren't actors, they simply are the characters, and portray themselves; grassy fields and castles and towns, you can imagine these places that could never perfectly be recreated on a stage in your own head.
Some plays are unreadable. Only enjoyable when you see it performed. I suppose Shakespeare isn't like that though.