take me with you, on the road
Sep. 30th, 2003 07:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sebastiennewe all know how incompetent my tutor is, of course . . . should be no surprise that she failed to inform me i had to fill in a seperate form to apply to oxford.
today was Not A Good Day but now, now i feel surprisingly well.
i think it's something to do with lying in the dark for an hour with childhood-regressive red dwarf tapes. 'a big, big, red, red, big clenched fist' ok so my brains still feel as if they're being put thru a blender. but at least my eyes can focus again (yes, i've been unable to make my eyes focus on my texts all day. mmm. fun.)
i did promise lily i would post a mega-rant about the play i went to see . . . . so here it is, as lucid as it was when it poured from my pencil . . .
last night i saw four boys grow up. i saw them learn to feel by borrowing someone else's emotions and trying them on for size. when they kissed, it was not a 'gay interpretation' of shakespeare . . . although because of the play-within-a-play nature, there was a certain beauty to their slow-developing comfortableness with the physical intimacy which was heart-rending to watch . . . in that moment he WAS juliet and the contents of his trousers, the pronoun applied to him by a miscreant playwright, none of that MATTERED . . . love trascends gender. the first kiss was so tentavtive - but already, they'd grown beyond its being disgusting - then to launch and test and understand - but only while the others looked away. they tear up the wedding-vows page. when they speak of a montegue in their midst, they speak as if to say 'an actual homosexual'. the threatened violence is the same. of course marvolio and romeo where overtly slashed. so there, if you like, was this 'homosexual reading' that so excited some of my slashful friends about this all-male production. i wonder, for a moment, about female fandom's boy-slash obsession . . . until, of course, i realise, we crave that which we do not know. which we cannot know.
of course, the dream ends - the shadows have offended - the march goes on. but not for our romeo. why should this literature-fruit be forbidden? The Knowledge is what lets us live and die with meaning! otherwise we march to our graves. perhaps these good, catholic boys will march through the afterlife too.
today was Not A Good Day but now, now i feel surprisingly well.
i think it's something to do with lying in the dark for an hour with childhood-regressive red dwarf tapes. 'a big, big, red, red, big clenched fist' ok so my brains still feel as if they're being put thru a blender. but at least my eyes can focus again (yes, i've been unable to make my eyes focus on my texts all day. mmm. fun.)
i did promise lily i would post a mega-rant about the play i went to see . . . . so here it is, as lucid as it was when it poured from my pencil . . .
last night i saw four boys grow up. i saw them learn to feel by borrowing someone else's emotions and trying them on for size. when they kissed, it was not a 'gay interpretation' of shakespeare . . . although because of the play-within-a-play nature, there was a certain beauty to their slow-developing comfortableness with the physical intimacy which was heart-rending to watch . . . in that moment he WAS juliet and the contents of his trousers, the pronoun applied to him by a miscreant playwright, none of that MATTERED . . . love trascends gender. the first kiss was so tentavtive - but already, they'd grown beyond its being disgusting - then to launch and test and understand - but only while the others looked away. they tear up the wedding-vows page. when they speak of a montegue in their midst, they speak as if to say 'an actual homosexual'. the threatened violence is the same. of course marvolio and romeo where overtly slashed. so there, if you like, was this 'homosexual reading' that so excited some of my slashful friends about this all-male production. i wonder, for a moment, about female fandom's boy-slash obsession . . . until, of course, i realise, we crave that which we do not know. which we cannot know.
of course, the dream ends - the shadows have offended - the march goes on. but not for our romeo. why should this literature-fruit be forbidden? The Knowledge is what lets us live and die with meaning! otherwise we march to our graves. perhaps these good, catholic boys will march through the afterlife too.
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-30 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-02 08:08 am (UTC)I am going to see the play next weekend, I think. Shall see what occurs to me.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-02 12:06 pm (UTC)