...and we are off to the theatre-- me, and almost 100 people from my school!

Today is the day of the big theatre field trip to Weathervane Theatre in Whitefield. There will be almost 100 of us from Lisbon attending a modernized production of Romeo and Juliet; this has been a huge undertaking with a few difficult hiccups along the way, but Heaven Willing, we'll all be comfortably seated at 9:30 am, and the show will go on. 

I'm tired, but I think it'll all be fine. Lots of folks at work have stepped up to help and to give really helpful hints, so that's been great. I am grateful, and I'm glad it's almost in the rear view mirror. R and J is not my favorite Shakespeare play, but seeing it live, and trusting the Weathervane's professional company, will make it worthwhile. 

Why is it not my favorite, or even in the "top three" for me? I think it's because it has been overly done for too long (like, 500 years of sappy). It is not a play about two teens defying their parents; when the play was written, there was no such developmental stage as "teenagers." Juliet is entirely marketable, and women in her position had one major use: they were part of a package deal to cement financial and political power. She had hit puberty, and thus was eligible to be married off --the end. Romeo is a drip, really-- mooning over a girl who ghosted him, then crashing a party just because he could, because the servants didn't stop him at the door. He sees the host's daughter and is smitten, fine, but gee whiz... he moved fast, eh? She has a crush immediately as well, and thus they act rashly. 

Following that few hours of tumbling and fumbling, they decide to marry, which of course requires lies, deception, and the intercession of not-very-efficient people outside of the action. In the meantime, Juliet has a perfectly good and eligible suitor cooling his heels, and her parents are peeved at her reluctance to do her part in the whole economic bargain. All plans go awry, and the plot gets impossible to untangle. 

Fast forward to the end, and five people are dead, including Lady C. who just plain dies. A bit overkill, I think, on Shakespeare's part-- one has to wonder, why did she die? Broken heart? Disappointment? I'd love to see a "fan fiction" written in which it becomes clear that her husband kills her in a snit about how she didn't raise her daughter to be biddable, instead of just beddable. It would be about right, given the time period and the expectations on women. It could be a totally feminist play. Hm...

Anyhow, that's what's on the docket for today. It'll be fine, the play will be good, and the kids in grades 8-12 will have had an outing that didn't involve a water slide or hiking with mud and bugs. 

Have a good day,

C