No More Than Reason: eg loves Much Ado

I know this comes as a shock to exactly none of you, at least not those of you who know me. But this is where this idea started, that I could be happy in my memories, and so this is where I begin.



The first time I saw Much Ado it was on PBS. My dad got me out of bed one night to come watch. I was in love--with the language, the acting, the story. I'm still in love.

That was in the early 90s. Ten years later, in 2002, in London, I was in a Shakespeare class. After a rather sad run through of Antony and Cleopatra, my friend and I decided to read Twelfth Night out loud, the way it was meant to be. (Well, it was meant to be acted out by a large group of male actors, not two 19-year-old girls, but close enough.) By the time our class reached Much Ado about Nothing, we had a full ensemble for our reading. And I got to read Beatrice.

We sat in the commons room of our ground floor flat. I hope I'm remembering this right, because I'm remembering sitting on a fairly wide window sill, my feet on a chair or a table, leaning against my knees and reading Beatrice while Cameron read Benedick, Josh read Claudio, Amber read Hero, and Aislin read the Prince. There were enough people to fill the room, and enough people to fill the parts. It was one of those perfect days. I sometimes desperately wish that I had a picture--there was bright blue thin carpet, and blue armchairs, and that window sill was perhaps the best window sill I've ever had the opportunity to sit on.

I've never seen a production that matches us reading in that room. If I ever have a chance to relive a time of my life, that day just might be it.

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Bonus Love: ABBA. I was looking for the trailer for Much Ado, and found this. Please join me in rolling your eyes. Rolling your eyes and dancing like a mad man.