Shakespeare's Retelling of an Old Tale: Romeo and Juliet

"When good manners shall lie in one or two men's hands, and they unwash't too, 'tis a foul thing" (Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, I.V)

"Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his
own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his
fingers goes not with me" (Romeo and Juliet, IV.II)

I have finished reading William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet for the first time. For years I have deliberately avoided reading it due to its overly quoted sap. Lines such as "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?"(II.I) have made it into something that cloys the senses.

But, of course, Romeo and Juliet is not at all the thing that the masses have made it into and the serving people always have something intelligent to say. In Romeo and Juliet the servants often let us know what they think about those, like our politicians and others who can cook up a feast to serve to others, but don't dare take a taste of it themselves.

And, of course, Romeo and Juliet is about love, love that knows no boundaries and defies earthly confines. A love that does not parade itself and is secret and gives no material gain to anyone. It is the story of Passover and Easter and of breaking Time's grip.

Shakespeare is always about Time and of a world most of us don't even know how to dream of. I have found it nearly impossible to understand Shakespeare until one has actually experienced a transformative or eye-opening time in one's life. Until one has actually lived the words of Shakespeare they cannot understand him on anything other than the superficial level.

And it is no wonder that Romeo and Juliet has been made into something cheap and vain. I never would have understood this play a few years ago. This is not merely a tale of two "star-cross'd" lovers or feuding families who would not approve of their marriage. This is about a love that most of us, even those that think they have been loved or in love, will never understand. I can think of only two comparable and secret love stories: Abraham and Sarah and that of Jesus and His Father.

image: Thisbe by John William Waterhouse

The Original Gold Second

"We speak of one thing being like some other thing when what we are really craving to do is to describe something that is like nothing on earth" (Vladimir Nabokov, Bend Sinister)

Like. But isn't. Not exact, not the thing itself. Like.

How does one explain, give the meaning, not a mere semblance of the meaning? This is the ache and the yearning, the chain of being a human on earth. It's as if; like being a prisoner bolted to a cell with a heavy chain that allows one to get near the key, get near the door, nearly touch it....but not quite.

"Certain mind pictures have become so adulterated by the concept of 'time' that we have come to believe in the actual existence of a permanently moving bright fissure (the point of perception) between our retrospective eternity which we cannot recall and the prospective one which we cannot know. We are not really able to measure time because no gold second is kept in a case in Paris but, quite frankly, do you not imagine a length of several hours more exactly than a length of several miles?" (Vladimir Nabokov, Bend Sinister)

There is no "gold second" to measure, although we do measure time with those adulterated "mind pictures." Somehow, we forget the meaning and imagery used to make meaning, which due to our forgetfulness look adulterated, unfamiliar. Because these pictures appear foreign to our present we say they are of another time. Why this is, I cannot tell.

When we read Shakespeare we must pull out our history and dictionary to understand what his meaning is....because the images, the likenesses have become adulterated. Would a gold second fade and disappear this way? Is it the gold second, the meanings that have faded, or is it us? Did someone drop the gold second and did the janitor sweep it under the display case? Are we reading backwards?

If time is moving forwards and our meaning, our images are only copies of other things; like something else that came before, then the future is only a copy of a copy of a copy, and so on. We are like wine that has been watered down, stretched out, and made clear.

Where is that original cask of wine, that golden first, and how good must it have been to have lasted all this while, after all of these adulterations?