Sixty-three sonnets into this home stretch and I am already wheezing. I'm half-way through what is deemed the "faire youth" sequence and I'll be damned if our man William isn't the most famous bisexual that ever lived. There's much debate over who is the "onlie begetter" (i.e. "muse") of the vast majority of these poems but everyone knows they're addressed to a Lord ThirstTrap of some renown.
There's plenty of fodder for the theory that the first seventeen relatively straight-forward poems may have been commissioned by the Dowager Countess of Southampton to convince her beautiful son Henry to make babies, but then the immortal Sonnet 18 burst forth with a far more personally passionate tone, as if the author hadn't even met the young man yet and suddenly went to a party one night and actually got to lay eyes upon him and instantly developed a huge crush. For another 108 sonnets our boy's true feelings about this guy pour out with undoubtedly mad adoration. As they progress, the juicy drama of their relationship begins to take shape, complete with unrequited emotions, sexual desires, jealousy, and hopelessly romantic shit to rival a 24-hour marathon of Doctor Zhivago (full disclosure, I love Doctor Zhivago). If you've ever been in love, The Sonnets are a one-stop shop. Chances are a handful of them will strike you right between the eyes.
The language in these poems is so dense that I am eternally grateful for the Arden's line-by-line translation/commentary. Even after eleven months of literally reading Shakespeare every single day, these poems can still be a challenge to unravel. It took me an hour to read 13 of them every evening this week. It's taken up so much of my time during this busy work week running up until my Thanksgiving vacation that I have merely outlined some of my favorite finer points and fun factoids from the first big basket of them:
15 & 16 - Chock-full of metaphors and similies about gardens and plants and flowers (all sexual of course), including a little sidenote that Priapus is in fact the tutelary deity of gardens. Priapus. Because of course.
18 - That's the biggie everyone knows and thus sets off the lengthy tract of proof that William can be as gay as they come when he's feelin' it.
20 - The "faire youth" is described as being as attractive as a woman but without all those pesky hysterics that occur every month. Sounds like someone needs to take a cue from Key & Peele and give their bitch some chocolate. Also, don't call her a bitch.
27 - Fairly boring to most, but a personal fave because it aptly describes my feelings at the end of each day when I settle in and write fanfiction for an hour before bed.
29 - The one beautifully recited in two different ways by both Sir Ken and Sir Ian in the film All Is True and is therefore super relevant to the argument that Souhthampton was the subject of Shakespeare's infatuation.
44 & 45 - Lovely comparisons of air, fire, earth, and water and how each informs the author's state of mind.
50 - That sinking feeling one gets when they must travel far from their love--a sensation I once knew all too well, and this really gets it.
52 - I like it for having similar themes and imagery as Hal's first soliloquy in 1 Henry IV about how the rarer things are, the better they are appreciated.
54 - Roses vs. poppies. Invoked fond memories of walking past summertime poppy fields in English countrysides, with their impossibly red-orange hue.
57 - Really nails that sharp bitterness you get when your love ignores you. *eye roll*
That's it for this week's stack of poems. When we return, the exciting conclusion of the "faire youth" saga! Same bat time, same bat place.
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