“A short introduction for to learne to swimme”

How do you pick a favorite book to feature in a library full of gems and treasures? It’s a near-impossible task. Two years ago the very first book that registered was the sole manuscript for Beowulf, one of the oldest stories we have. I wept and continued to weep, and even now I tear up thinking about it.

The British Library is one of my absolute favorite museums, and I pushed myself to be able to attend so I could gaze upon the treasures featured in the aptly-named “Treasure Room.” My beloved Beowulf had been moved from the “literature” section to “historical documents,” a change that I found myself agreeing with. This year I decided to venture outward to see what else had changed or added, and found this gem:

Though the Treasure Room displays some of the rarest and greatest works and manuscripts of our time, there were also books such as this small “A short introduction for to learne to swimme.” The woodcut drawings were endearing, and the text was charming and simple. After studying the Agas Map (a woodcut map featuring Early Modern London and the subject of my senior thesis) I was more familiar with the eclectic spelling of the early modern era, and found myself mouthing along with the instructions. The print was tiny but I made my way through it, and suddenly the printed directions came to life.

It was a calmer sort of contentment, not quite as earth-shattering as seeing Beowulf or the lyrics of Beatles staples written on napkins. I found myself identifying with that small book which might not have been as “flashy” as its bigger cousins, but who was nonetheless important enough to be featured among them. Sometimes it’s okay to be charming and to be yourself–you’re still noted and celebrated.

An Ode to the Globe

“And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company these days.”

Should you ever find yourself in London, attending a Shakespeare play in the Globe Theatre is a must. Though the Globe Theatre that stands today is not the building of Shakespeare’s time (a fire, a hundred yards, and several hundred years separate the two buildings) there is nonetheless a presence that can be felt that is Shakespearean. By this I mean less of the exact aesthetic and more of the feeling of excitement and wonder that comes with seeing stories brought to life through gesture, music, and the spoken word. The Globe’s circular seating and wide Groundling yard makes me think, is very different to the theatre houses you often find in the states: boxy, with almost all the seats facing the stage from dead center. I had previously seen A Comedy of Errors in the Globe from the side view, which was in itself an interesting experience; the viewing of this year’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which was more dead-center, was a more traditional theatre experience.

I purchased the play’s program ahead of the performance–a cheap four pounds, and worth every pence!–and since returning home I’ve found myself flipping through it more and more. The director’s choice to infuse Shakespeare’s Victorian words with an Indian flair was unusual and brilliant, as was the case to change the female Helena to a male (and queer) Helenus. Such a poignant switch did its job with me, and I found myself relating to Helenus in a way I might otherwise not have had the character been cast traditionally.

I fully intend on purchasing a DVD copy when it becomes available. The experience of seeing it on the small screen pales in comparison to seeing it live, but I’ll just have to make the best of it. Memory only gets me so far, and this is a production I want to have with me as clearly as possible.