Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Tommy and I are going to see Macbeth performed tomorrow (there's a Shakespeare in the Park theater group here, which I'm so excited to go see), and I had planned to read this before going, but thought I'd left it too late and missed my chance. Well, it turned out that I borrowed the audiobook from the library, and it was only 1 hour and 45 minutes long, and I was able to listen and read along today during naptime and after the kids went to bed. I read this in high school, and maybe even in college as well, and actually re-read my original high school copy today, but I didn't remember much and had confused much of the storyline of Hamlet and Macbeth in my heads. Basically all I remembered about this story was Lady Macbeth and "Out, out, damned spot!" But I am so pleased with these re-readings of Shakespeare's plays, because they are so much better than I realized they were when I read them in high school. This time, reading Macbeth, (and listening to it), the emotions and the horror and the creepiness of the whole story was so apparent. The witches, and Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking/insanity, and Banquo's ghost appearing--it was a perfect October read (I love reading slightly creepy things in October!). Lady Macbeth was just as creepy as I remember--she needed only the slightest hint to start urging Macbeth to kill the king, and was so determined to do it and wouldn't listen to any of his protests... until she was so overcome with remorse that she started to go insane and eventually killed herself. Macbeth was remorseful before doing it, and wavered as to whether they should go through with their plans, but once he was committed, was determined to go down fighting and didn't recognize Lady Macbeth's remorse as valid at all.

There were so many well-written lines and amazing parts in this play, but I didn't mark any of them down. The best one was Macbeth's famous last soliloquy, which just resonates so well that I'll copy it here:

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."