Savor the Simple

Finding the words for what I want to say will probably be difficult, so just remember that my goal is to stay within at least standard deviation of my point...

When we went over those several examples of "To be, or not to be" yesterday, I thought about how demanding our culture can be before we allow ourselves to be "entertained."  Nephi, for example, was very concerned that his written word would have no effect on the hearts of his posterity.  He said, "there are many that harden their hearts... and cast many things away which are written and esteem them as things of naught."  Words on a page are very simple, but Nephi also said that words "can be made strong," (2 Nephi 33:2, 4).  

So while it may be true that a production is more masterfully done with impressive cinematography etc., there's something to be said for the simple.  "In our Church meetings, in our personal and family scripture study, and even this day as we listen to the Lord’s prophets and apostles, some of us will receive more than others. Why? I am learning that those who truly receive do at least three things that others may not do.  First, they seek. We live in an entertainment world, a spectator world. Without realizing it, we can find ourselves coming to conference or going to church with the attitude, 'Here I am; now inspire me.' We become spiritually passive," (Elder Merrill "Receiving by the Spirit").  

In other words, it's good to be careful in what we demand in our stimuli.  There will be many times that the simple will be more moving if our senses are attuned to the raw majesty of deep desire, rather than a "well done" performance.

     

When is it good to be a sponge...?

I'll start off by saying that I wish I could have gone to Cedar City.  While ya'll went south a couple hours, I went north to Logan for a tournament and ended up 3-1.  And because I can't comment on the performance of The Winter's Tale that you saw, guess I'll jump into Act IV of Hamlet...

 Hamlet is crazy as you may recall...  In scene II he is arguing with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.  There has always been an odd air between them that stemmed from Hamlet's calling them out on their "real" purpose for being there, which is to be the king's stooges:

Ros:  Take you me for a sponge, my lord?

Ham:  Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's countenance, his rewards, his authorities.  But such officers do the King best service in the end.  He keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw--first mouthed, to be last swallowed.  When he needs what you have gleened, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.

My point is that there's another analogy we use for children; we say that a child's mind is like a sponge.  To me this is a good thing.  A child needs to absorb the world around him and learn to comprehend it's meaning.  I am going to take the stance that we should always have a mind like a sponge, but with filters.  We need to always try and absorb the good, and be willing to share what we absorb.    

Now Hamlet was obviously putting them down; how do you feel about this comparison of connotations?  Is this apples and oranges?  or is this oranges and tangerines....  

Autolycus being true to his namesake... sort of

Because Autolycus' name is of Greek origin, I thought we'd get into a Greek mood, here are pictures of ancient Greek architecture, the Greek alphabet and of course we can't leave out a Greek pot.  

With Autolycus speaking of himself:  "My father named me Autolycus,' he tells us, 'who, being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.' This single sentence compresses several Greek-mythological pieces of text... that tell the story of the master thief Autolycus, son of the god Mercury. While Shakespeare's Autolycus is 'littered under Mercury' in the sense, one presumes, that he was born when the planet Mercury was in the ascendant, his namesake was actually sired by the god Mercury, inheriting from his father the magic power to transform stolen booty into new, unrecognizable forms... Shakespeare's Autolycus does his namesake proud. He, too, is 'a wyly pye' who 'in theft and filching' has no peer. His link to Mercury--the trickster god, god of thieves, lord of roads, known primarily for his 'subtle cunning'--gives Shakespeare's Autolycus a quasi-mythological status, casting a kind of glamor on his thieving." 

We read an interesting line from Autolycus just as he sees the old Shepherd and the Clown approaching as "gentlemen," that I'd be interested in hearing opinions on.  He says:  "Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune."  To me his mood seems a stark contrast to his mirth after the festival.  Then he went on and on about how if he wanted to be honest, fortune wouldn't let him for all the opportunities to capitalize on fools.  Monetarily he has no less than before, but because those he robbed profited more by his con than he did, he is no longer the chuckling, can do no wrong, con man.  I guess this 'god of thieves' wasn't ever was as happy as he thought.   

If you would like to read more about our friend Autolycus, you can look up:  

Mowat, Barbara A. "Rogues, Shepherds, and the Counterfeit Distressed: Texts and Infracontexts of the Winters Tale 4.3." Shakespeare Studies 22 (1994): 58. Print.

Sometimes MORE is more... but sometimes LESS is more...

Men and women with spirits easy for advice:


(Abraham Lincoln and Nelson Mandela and Mother Teresa)

My favorite line from The Winter's Tale comes after Polixenes gives his "Mark your divorce... and mark my words" lecture and is spoken by Camillo in conversation with  Florizel.  After Florizel declares, "This you may know and so deliver, I am put to sea with her whom I cannot hold on shore," Camillo said:

"I Would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need."

How often are our spirits "hard for advice?"  To me this is THE major theme of The Winter's Tale.  Leontes lost his wife and son because he was hard for advice.  The Clown was just hard for anything and lost everything.  Polixenes is now "hard for advice" and I hope he pulls out of it.

The lives of those who have a spirit "easier for advice," make the largest difference; and don't wear the chains of anger and jealousy.

Time

"I that please some, try all, both joy and terror
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To use my wings."
 -Time-

I have only read a couple of scenes into act IV, but I am intrigued by the introduction.  I am curious to see what time has done:




Who among these characters will find joy in the passage of time, have their errors unfolded, or find that time as with wings flies by so fast. 

I think it is valuable in a context like this to expect a character to fit in each category laid out by Time.  I am curious to see where each character finds him or herself in Time's opening words to the Spring of the play.