In English, we're studying Twelfth Night right now. (That word just looks so funny to me. I don't hear an f when I say it, but if you spell it without the f it looks so hollow and naked: twelth. Look at that! I think that is one of the strangest words in the English language...) I enjoy Shakespeare's comedies so much more than his tragedies, but something about Twelfth Night really stresses me out.
I don't handle dramatic irony well. When I know something that the characters don't know, I start guessing where the plot is headed, where the next big problem lies in wait. (I'm a pretty good guesser, too. And the credit for this goes, of course, to my great skill and not to clever foreshadowing on the part of the authors.) It absolutely eats at me that I can't communicate with the characters, warn them of their impending doom or what have you. Why can't they see this for themselves?
If I had my way, I would swoop in with intense theme music, whisper advice in the protagonist's ear, tweak a few stage positions, point out the obvious that would solve all their problems, and flee, having corrected all misunderstandings and confusion! I may also quickly replace some costumes and/or actors, but that would be a matter of personal preference. With a satisfied sigh after a day's work well done, I would reclaim my seat and recline to watch the rest of the action.
Only then would I realize, that was all the action. That's the whole point of plays like Twelfth Night: there is confusion and chaos and yet all things work out well in the end, and everyone gets a happy ending (except Malvolio, but nobody likes him anyway).
Besides the fact that I can't literally step in and alter everything, it would completely negate the purpose of the storyline for me to fix it. So as we study the play, discuss it, watch a video of one production, I tensely bite my nails and hold my comments in. I don't find it particularly enjoyable.
But I do like Shakespeare. :)
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