Tonight, at dinner, the Rideouts had a discussion about that staple of 8th grade literature: The on-ramp to the Bard's work: Romeo and Juliet.
After I regaled the fam (okay, maybe I bored them and they indulged me, but I far prefer 'regaled') with a tale of how, in my own 8th grade, our english class staged a low budget production of Romeo and Juliet. (actually, as I type this, I am recalling the actual play was 'The Taming of the Shrew'. Awkward). Anyhow, what I remember most about this production (for which the audience only consisted of about half of our parents) is that, at one point, my buddy JTC seemed to have forgotten his line so I reached out and tapped him on the arm to prompt him to say it. The thing is, I'm pretty sure he didn't need nor did he appreciate that public prompting. Hopefully he has forgotten all about this incident.
Okay, all that is neither here nor there. What I posited at the dinner table is that many enduring tales or expressions or ideas persevere not because they are eternal truths but because there is a subtext that is exactly the opposite of the espoused idea.
For example: Consider the expression "taking candy from a baby" which nominally means something easily done. But, in reality, a baby holds on tight to candy and baby mammals have astonishingly strong grips; such that taking candy from a baby is, in actual fact, harder than you think.
Now, the conventional motif of Romeo and Juliet is one of star crossed lovers, tragic destiny, etc. But a recent viewing with the fam reminded me of the beginning of the play in which it is made clear that Romeo is the type of guy who is falling in love with every girl he meets. So, what is going on here? Is the play about how being ruled by your passions is dangerous rather than how your passion is a reflection of your destiny?
Hmmm... I gotta go now ... cause, you know, a rolling stone gathers no moss...
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