After I leave
Dickens House, I walk down to Russell Square, hail a cab and head
for the South Bank of the Thames where they're building a replica
of the Globe Theatre.
"The
Puritans weren't fond of theaters, so they shut the Globe down,"
our guide explains in an Irish accent that barely rises above the
cacophony of buzzsaws and hammering that reverberates through the
theater.
The theater
isn't on the exact site where the original Globe was located, but
it's close. And the building is faithful to the original where Shakespeare's
plays were produced.
My mind takes a sudden turn.
In Shakespeare's
day, commoners crowded around the stage, standing on crushed walnut
shells and ash while they called out to the actors and laughed at
the often bawdy situations in the plays. It was a cross between
studio wrestling and, well, Shakespeare. Today, most "normal"
people don't go to the theater. It's an experience that's reserved
for the educated.
Suddenly, I'm
humming "I Wanna Hold Your
Hand" ...
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