People without sentimentality like to let it out: What we call Christmas is a conglomerate of pagan rituals that has been culturally appropriated by Christianity, and which has only been celebrated for a relatively short time and especially to the extent we have today.
It is therefore not surprising that Comrade Shakespeare left us neither unforgettable Christmas Eve sentiments nor gingerbread recipes in his works. But since Shakespeare was, after all, Shakespeare and therefore the first modern writer, the three brief mentions of Christmas in his work, which resourceful literary scholars have identified, are already the man of the present speaking to us: in the form of the sophisticated Christmas grouch.
In the play “Love’s Labour’s Lost”, Shakespeare’s comedy about a “work-life balance” that has become very imbalanced, which was premiered at the courtly Christmas of 1597 in front of Queen Elizabeth I, Ferdinand, the King of Navarre, founded an academy to study philosophy. Three Lordships join more or less voluntarily and learn of the protocol there: little sleep, little food, no women for the next three years. Does that have to be the case? And if so, for what purpose? So, before he gives in to the authorities, Lord Berowne also asks himself at the beginning: “I don’t want to see a rose at Christmas / But I don’t want to see a May meadow under snow either.” The whole thing doesn’t go well and in the final act, many beautiful verses later, everything turns out to be a “messed up Christmas comedy”.
Genosse Shakespeare
As you like it: Every two weeks, Erik Zielke writes about great tragedies, political sleaze theater and fools from the past and present. He finds inspiration in his comrade from Stratford-upon-Avon.
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And isn’t it the drunken tinker with the eloquent name Schlau, who in the prelude to the often problematic play “The Taming of the Shrew” describes the cheerful but stupid goings-on around him – depending on the translation – as a “trick” or “somersault” and so on “Christmas play” exposed? No, William Shakespeare obviously had little interest in the kind of production that we see every year.
And what could be further from the dark, cruelly short days of December than the shortest – but almost inevitably eventful – night of the year, called Midsummer and the title of Shakespeare’s great “Midsummer Night’s Dream”? A material for and with donkeys, but without the biting mockery of Christmas despisers. The comedy writer only helps to a limited extent against the end-of-year depression. The blows, which are distributed all around in the style of folk theater, are too precise.
And if, despite everything, you don’t want to let your contemplative celebration be spoiled, you should now please be happy with Comrade Tchaikovsky and watch The Nutcracker.
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