Othello

We have an ambition to see all of Shakespeare’s plays on stage, and not counting the plays we have tickets to see later in the year, we now have only four to go. They, needless to say, are the less performed ones. So we need to see Henry VIII, Love’s Labours Lost, Cymbeline, and Pericles. We did have tickets for Cymbeline some time ago, but it was an open air production and the weather was so terrible it was rained off. Thinking about it, I suppose, as completists, we should try to see Cardenio.  

Last week we managed to see Othello at the National Theatre. It was very interesting – they had got in a military adviser, and it emphasised the importance of Othello’s military cast of mind in precipitating the tragedy, much more than the colour of his skin. He was an outsider in so many ways that his race was only one more factor. It also emphasised Desdemona’s naivety and the fact that she and Othello may be married, but they know almost nothing about each other. So it made a lot more sense than it often does, and Othello less of a credulous fool.

Never mind the intellectual analysis, I was on the edge of my seat with the tension and emotion generated by the cast, and there were a few bursts of nervous laughter, because the audience was so wrapped up in it. So a terrific afternoon.  How the cast put themselves through that twice in a day, goodness knows. 

From the sublime to the ridiculous - we went to a restaurant with a Korean barbecue and Szechuan hotpot. Well, it was an experience, but it was one which chiefly made me wonder what on earth becomes of the decent bits of the animal. Unless you like gristle, nameless chewy and bony bits, tripe in many forms, lumps of congealed blood, the feet, tongues, gizzards and hearts of the chicken, but NOT its breast or drumsticks, I wouldn't recommend it. The fishy bits were OK though. To be honest, it was a fun evening, though we never did find out what the raw eggs were for.