180 degrees

Remember when I said I wasn't sick of Shakespeare? I've changed my mind. I hate that guy, dead as he is. He's always just there, lording his success over me with his constant presence. I once said to my friend that Shakespeare was the god of writing. You know what he said?

"Is he?!"

So perhaps I have unjustly put Shakespeare on a pedestal - evidently not everyone agrees with me about his greatness. Maybe Shakespeare spent years toiling over his plays and sonnets before he hit the big time producing them for the king. Maybe he was plagued with doubts and worries and had off-days, too. Or maybe he knew from the very first sentence he ever wrote that he would be a roaring success. We'll never know.

I changed my mind about Mr Shakespeare quite recently. I was reading through the module options for the second year of my degree and saw there was one entirely dedicated to Shakespeare. It involved a critical essay and a jolly three-hour exam at the end which accounted for 60% of the grade.

Really. As if we hadn't had enough of him throughout our literary education. I get that he was a magnificent  writer and his work is revered worldwide but come on! Two hours a week completely devoted to Shakespeare? How's that for a slap in the face of a young, aspiring author. Even if they did make a module to honour my name, life and work, you can bet it would be formed fifty years after I was dead.

That's just how literary appreciation works, sadly.

I also discovered by chance that April 23rd is known as Shakespeare Day. I'm beginning to wonder if the world isn't taking this Shakespeare appreciation thing a little too far. We get it, World. Shakespeare wrote a lot of stuff that is now really popular for schools, theatre and modern adaptations. But please, tone is down a little. You're killing my self-esteem.