15 April 2013

Congee, fortified with Ensure nutrition milk, later, at midday.

Ensure is becoming rather tasty which is a bad sign that like Robert de Niro in The Deer Hunter, I’m adapting to an environment perhaps too well.

Finished the Sonnets and A Lover’s Complaint (a technically perfect but forgettable poem that no-one reads; I hardly could be bothered to try to understand, from the poem, what was going on; Sparknotes heah Ah comes).

The Sonnets on the other hand are magnificent. Like Glenn Gould as a performer or Bach as a composer, the Sonnets start with an eerie technical perfection.

Ben Jonson claimed that Shakespeare “never blotted [erased or crossed-out]” a line. I found as a poet *maudit* that revisions before the invention of word processors running on unshared computers uglified the poem.

You want to see the poem as a sensuous and neat creation lying well on the page but a mere mortal needs to fake this using a computer. Shakespeare, it appears, did not.

The sonnets go on to reveal that at the time of their writing Shakespeare may have been experiencing a repeat of an episode in Stratford ten years prior, when perhaps (perhaps! Always perhaps!): his homosexual’s disgust with the female body and idealization of the male body.

That this was a “homosexual’s” disgust doesn’t mean Shakespeare was gay. The bad news is that straight men can behave like queers and go to the opera or weary of their wives temporarily in a madness as Leontes wearies of Hermione in the Winter’s Tale.

I’d guess that S left Stratford willingly because he was rather sick of getting jumped by an aging and perhaps large Anne Hathaway demanding money for the straw bill, and this soured him on her body. But as Ted Hughes shows in “Shakespeare and the Goddess of Complete Being”, Shakespeare’s plays may have been an expiation of this flight from the Goddess.

Workout, later at 2:00 PM: 20 minutes rackety row, 4 laps walk.

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