My Poetry · Shakespeare

Fall of a Tyrant

A poem about Shakespeare’s Richard III


Scheming, plotting, taking that
Which is not yours to take
Stealing, lying, trusting none
With smiles and friendship fake

Killing, lying, courting one
Who mourns the men you slew
Trapping in a web of lies
All those of use to you

Planning to usurp the throne
Upon a cunning lie
Locked inside the fearsome tower
Youthful heirs must die

Cheering subjects make you king
But enemies grow strong
Cursing you with hate and grief
For all your sin and wrong

Dripping down the castle walls
The blood of those you’ve killed
Brothers, nephews, allies, wife
The blood your hands have spilled

Haunting you with every step
Ghosts on the battlefield
“Despair and die!” their voices scream
By them your fate is sealed

Rising o’er the battlefield
A song of triumph soars
Rebuild the world, unite the signs
Of Lancaster and York

Nevermore from this day on
Shall brothers’ blood be spilled
But rival houses side-by-side
A kinder future build

Rest in peace, you restless ghosts
The battle has been won
The bloodstains fade from castle walls
Your business here is done

Shakespeare

Texas Shakespeare Festival: Richard III

Shakespeare Festival - Richard IIII went into the theater last night feeling excited, but a bit apprehensive. I’d only finished reading Richard III a few days before, and while I was looking forward to seeing it play out on stage, it was one of the bloodiest and most disturbing Shakespeare plays I’d ever encountered. I wasn’t sure whether I’d be entranced by the gruesome events unfolding or simply disgusted. I left the theater a few hours later, literally speechless and breathless. It was like a horrible train wreck that you just can’t look away from, and I mean that in the best way possible. I loved it!

This was my second night at the Texas Shakespeare Festival, and seeing Richard III was a very different experience from Much Ado About Nothing, which is a light, humorous romantic comedy. Richard III had me gasping in horror, biting back screams, and waiting on the edge of my seat as the doomed members of the House of York plotted against each other. I’ve never been a fan of horror movies, but I’d imagine it’s much the same effect: what’s happening in front of you is just so horrible it leaves you gasping for breath as if you’d just come close to drowning.

Only Richard III isn’t a horror movie. It’s Shakespeare, and it’s – at least in part – history. Elizabethan propaganda, historically inaccurate, yes, but still. The sides may not have been as black-and-white as Shakespeare would have us believe, but the War of the Roses was still an incredibly bloody and violent time, and history is filled with dictators and tyrants as horrible as Shakespeare’s villain.

Shakespeare’s work often speaks to universal themes. Romeo and Juliet is about love and hatred – irrational hatred and irrational love. Hamlet is about the inevitability of death. Othello is about jealousy and distrust. King Lear is about false flattery and backstabbing and the unfortunate fact that the honest often suffer while the dishonest profit. Many of the comedies deal with some of the same themes, coming to happier resolutions. Richard III, likewise, paints a blunt and unvarnished picture of the evil in the world and the ways in which ordinary people allow it: by trying to profit from it, underestimating the dangers, or simply being too afraid to speak up. There’s something about the play, as is the case with so many of Shakespeare’s works, which transcends time and continues to feel relevant today.

Shakespeare

Texas Shakespeare Festival: Much Ado About Nothing

shakespeare festival - much ado

This weekend, I’m at the Texas Shakespeare Festival.  They’re performing two plays by Shakespeare: Richard III, which I’m going to see tonight, and Much Ado About Nothing, which I saw last night. It was incredible!

I’ve read 13 of Shakespeare’s plays now (having finished Richard III this week), and I’ve seen movie versions of about half of those, but there’s something very special about seeing Shakespeare performed live. If a movie brings the script to life, a play transports you there as if it were happening all around you. I still stand by my preference to read the plays before I see them, but in the end, seeing them performed live is the best way to get past the antiquated language and let them take your breath away.

This production of Much Ado About Nothing was perfect in almost every way. The set looked like something out of a fairy tale, the actors’ performances were excellent, the chemistry between Beatrice and Benedick was just right, and the audience could never stop laughing at the characters’ antics. The later part of the play, where Hero is accused of being unfaithful, was given just the right amount of drama and seriousness, while still adding in enough humor to make the happy ending feel realistic.

When I first read Much Ado About Nothing, and even when I watched the movie, it wasn’t one of my favorites. I liked it, but I didn’t love it. Well, I loved it last night. Perhaps not quite as much as Twelfth Night, my favorite Shakespearean comedy, but now that I’ve seen just how funny, heartwarming, and exhilarating Much Ado can be, I think it will always have a special place in my heart.

Classics · My Poetry

“You Can”: a poem about Les Misérables

Despised
Rejected
Afraid to trust
And boiling over with
Anger
Until an unexpected kindness
And a pair of silver candlesticks
Change everything

A woman coughs up blood
Teeth missing
Hair shorn
All she had sacrificed
For a child she loved more
Than her own life
You can’t save her
But you can save
Her daughter

A little girl
Frightened of wolves in the woods
With a broom
And a bucket of water
Dressed in tattered rags
Dreaming of a fairy-tale escape
A castle on a cloud
You can’t give her that
But you can give her
A helping hand
A doll
And a better future

A blaze of anger
Revolution
Erupting like a wildfire
Like a gunshot
Gunshots break through silence
The streets run red with blood
You can’t save them all
But you can save
One

A hunter
Cornered by his prey
Expecting vengeance
Finding mercy
You can’t save him from himself
But you can
Try

A crime committed long ago
But not forgotten
A pair of silver candlesticks
Lighting the way
Guiding you to those
In need of
Help
You can’t erase the past
But you can change
The future

Middle-Grade · Summer Reading Mission 2017

Summer Reading Mission: Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, by Grace Lin

This week, I’m reviewing Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, by Grace Lin. I first noticed this book at Barnes and Noble about a month ago, on the same trip where I picked up Inside Out and Back Again. I didn’t buy it at the time, but I decided to come back to it later, because a Newbery Honor fantasy-adventure story set in ancient China isn’t something you get to read every day.

This is cliché, I know, but the book really is a breath of fresh air. A lot of the basic elements are familiar. Minli, the protagonist, is the quintessential young hero on a quest. The plot borrows a lot from The Wizard of Oz and reminds me a bit of the first Harry Potter book as well. But it’s built up around Chinese folklore, which provides an unusual setting and a completely different tone than any other comparable stories. The world is beautifully constructed and endlessly creative, and every part of the story is woven together by the end.

Talking goldfish, dragons that emerge out of paintings, and red strings that tie people’s destinies together are not always easy to believe in. I often found myself as skeptical as Minli’s parents. But even they learn to have faith by the end, and likewise, I found it easier and easier to suspend my disbelief as I continued reading. It’s fantasy. It’s not meant to make sense, and yet, in a weird way, it does. I’ve always been able to appreciate books about magic spells and fantastic creatures, and the book did well at drawing on the conventions of fantasy while still coming up with something unique and original.

There are some beautiful themes in the story. Like Dorothy, Minli learns in the end that she already has what she needs. It’s her selfless decision to help a friend rather than herself that gives her a way to help both of them, and it was only through the things she encountered on her journey that she was able to arrive at that decision. It’s a book about faith, selflessness, family, coming-of-age, and many other things, but if I had to sum it up in one word, I’d say it’s about gratitude. It’s only once Minli learns to be thankful for what she has that she’s able to improve her own life and her village’s welfare.

I especially loved the emphasis on storytelling. This is not the first book to ask meta-fictional questions, such as, “What is the value of telling fantasy stories?” However, it answers that question beautifully by weaving storytelling throughout the main narrative. Almost every chapter has a shorter story in it that – sooner or later – turns out to be true. Lin sends her protagonist on a journey through a world of stories, which come to life all around her. It gives the impression that we only have to look to see the magic in the everyday world.

The book is beautifully illustrated, the world vividly constructed, and the characters human and relatable. The story is like a mosaic, made up of bits and pieces of something recognizable, but put together in unexpected ways, resulting in something utterly unique – and yet the themes it explores are universal and relevant. Not only did I find it enjoyable and refreshing, I also felt that it had a great deal of value as a piece of literature. It’s not hard to see why it won a Newbery Honor.

Middle-Grade · Summer Reading Mission 2017

Summer Reading Mission: Heartbeat, by Sharon Creech

A few weeks ago, I read Inside Out and Back Again, by Thanhha Lai, which is written as a long free-verse poem. I loved the effect that this had on the story and started looking for more books like it. Today, I finished reading Heartbeat, by Sharon Creech.

Heartbeat is a book about a twelve-year-old girl named Annie. She loves to run, and the way the poems are written evokes the rhythm of her running, the thumping of her heart and the pounding of her feet against the ground. The story deals with her grandfather’s memory loss, her mother’s pregnancy, and her very symbolic attempts to draw the same apple every day for 100 days. It’s more emotion than plot, but it works, and the poetic format is a big part of why.

When I was in fourth or fifth grade, my teacher read this book to us as a read-aloud, but I didn’t remember much about it except that I sort of vaguely liked it. I don’t remember it having that heartbeat rhythm to it, though, and half of the story’s beauty is in the way it makes you feel as if you’re running right along side the main character, heart pounding and feet hitting the pavement, thump-thump, thump-thump.

This isn’t a book that every kid would enjoy. Aside from the unusual format, it deals with serious subject matter (in a kid-friendly way), and it’s character-driven and abstract. However, I think that for the right kid – a kid who is mature enough to deal with the serious themes and is open to inventive forms of storytelling – it would be an excellent choice. It was certainly a breath of fresh air for me.

Middle-Grade · Summer Reading Mission 2017

Summer Reading Mission: No Talking, by Andrew Clements

Yes, I know: I said I’d be reading a kids’ book a week, and it’s been nearly two. But better late than never, right?

I chose No Talking, by Andrew Clements, because I’ve enjoyed all of his books that I’ve read so far and thought it had an interesting premise. The fifth graders at an elementary school challenge each other to a competition – boys versus girls – to see who can talk the least, each trying to prove a point about the other. Needless to say, it doesn’t exactly go the way they planned, but they learn something much more important in the end.

The fifth grade boys and girls don’t usually get along, and that’s something of an understatement. As Clements explains it, they both still think the others have cooties, except they “didn’t actually use the word ‘cooties’ anymore … They used words like ‘dumb’ or ‘gross’ or ‘immature’ or ‘annoying’”. This isn’t too surprising, given that they’re fifth graders, but they take this to a whole new level with the contest they organize. They decide to spend 48 hours in near-total silence, allowing themselves only to speak to teachers or adults, and only in reply to direct questions, in less than three-word answers. Any words aside from those get tallied up by Dave and Lyndsey, the two team leaders, and the team with the lowest number at the end wins.

However, this odd sort of game the kids are playing has all kinds of real-world effects. They have to figure out how to problem-solve (by communicating through notes, clapping a beat for jump rope instead of chanting, etc.), how to compromise (singing doesn’t count, or else music class becomes impossible), and how to react to opposition (when the principal tries to order them to start talking again). By the end of the 48 hours, they aren’t thinking in terms of boys vs. girls so much anymore, and it’s almost a relief when the score comes out as a tie.

The thing I like about Andrew Clements’ books is that his kids are realistic and relatable. They’re not all perfect angels. They’re not always respectful to adults, and they don’t always follow the rules. But they’re always good kids who learn from their experiences and become better kids as a result. The best part is that it happens in a way that’s not preachy or condescending at all, even when there’s an important moral to the story. And that’s definitely the case with this book.

It’s a wonderfully light, humorous book, realistic without seeming mundane or dreary. This is something I love about the Andrew Clements books: they’re imaginative and larger than life. What happens in them is rarely impossible, but it’s still unusual and empowering. Most kids don’t write novels that get published, invent new words, or save classmates from a tornado. I think I would have enjoyed these books when I was a kid, even though they really weren’t in one of my preferred genres. I certainly love them now.

I didn’t love No Talking as much as I did The School Story, About Average, or The Landry News – most likely because the stakes aren’t quite as high, and the “no talking” competition seemed sillier to me as an adult than it might if I were reading it as a child. However, it was entertaining and engaging, and it had a great message at the end. I’d definitely recommend it for either boys or girls in the upper elementary age group, especially those that are looking for a humorous, realistic story.