By Bob Rogers in Britain:
Who’s afraid of the big, bad Bard?
Sunday 11 November 2012
Fear because of the power his dead hand seemed to wield over otherwise unimpressable teachers and loathing because of the apparently insurmountable gulf between his Early Modern English and my unwillingness to even try and decipher it.
For most 12-year-olds it was probably not a major issue, but I had just moved with my family from the south Wales valleys to Stratford upon Avon.
Worse, I was a pupil in the very school Shakespeare was said to have once attended, so naturally he was a permanent and frequent fixture on the curriculum.
To read his words, sterile and flat on the printed page…
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