(The following was originally published on my LiveJournal blog. Transferred to ScribblerWorks on 4/4/2017.)
Beyond the reach of modern prudery
The wealth of Shakespeare’s words lies safe, secure.
And yet within the ranks of noted scribes
Lurk those who would scrub “clean” the Bard’s famed works,
Who twist the thrust and pull of Shakespeare’s lines
And drain, like vampire-drones, complexity
From even that most layered work for stage,
Because, apparently, the Danish Prince
Was never well presented, well thought out.
Indeed! It falls to one who sees himself
Appointed to the task of “clearing up”
These plays that for four hundred counted years
Have stood performance tests and language change
And yet remained intact, live-wit and all,
Including human nature run risque.
Who is this one who takes this cause as his,
Who thinks his brain can dance an equal step
To that of Shakespeare? Who? I ask again.
I’m told the name is one Orson Scott Card,
Whose list of published titles dangles long,
Though mostly known within but one genre
And that not known for excellence of verse
Or durable dramatic works for stage.
Yay, verily, the hubris of the scribe
Affects all who words string for long effect.
But is there need for “Hamlet’s Father” here?
I think not, in this way nor in these words.
COMMENTS FROM LIVEJOURNAL
kalimac Sep. 6th, 2011 09:27 pm (UTC)
Remember CSL’s response to TS Eliot’s claim that Hamlet was “most certainly an artistic failure.” He said: “If this is failure, then failure is better than success.”
scribblerworks Sep. 6th, 2011 09:55 pm (UTC)