Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your recent letter. I very much enjoyed your dessert versions of the Billy Wagglestaff canon, such as A Midsummer Night’s Cream. You will be interested to learn that I have moved on from simply renaming the plays: I have started rewriting them. More of that below!
Your descriptions of the Bikeability courses were interesting and enlightening However, I have devised my own course. Called Advanced Biking, it covers essential aspects of cycling such as insulting drivers who use cyclists for target practice, of which there are plenty around here1. Everyone who passes the course goes away with a beautiful hardback copy of my seminal volume, Abuse-Hurling Made Easy2. Last year, in a poll I ran on the subject, the most-favoured insult was "Where did you buy your licence?" As for riding positions, we favour sitting on the saddle.
On the subject of potholes, a wonderful one appeared overnight in South London. Here it is: the South London sink hole. I predict that this will become a tourist attraction. People will say, “Let’s meet at the South London Sink Hole.” After a few years, that will be shortened to “Let’s meet at the sink hole.” Tourists will be able to buy sink hole postcards, or pay to have their photos taken in front of the sink hole (now there’s an opportunity for Jim).
The hole was big enough for a car to fall into. I don’t know what the difference is between a sink hole and a pothole. Perhaps it’s a matter of size. Maybe potholes grow into sink holes if left alone. I also don’t know if “sink hole” should be one word, like “pothole”.
While looking into this subject I came across some research that maps where the biggest potholes in England are. Using this data I am organising a series of Discovering Potholes tours. These will take place in different areas and will appeal to the ardent pothole spotters amongst us. Some potholes may have be perused through a telephoto lens or binoculars, either because they are dangerous or because there’s a pothole preservation order on them:
Recently, it has been sweltering here. Last week I went swimming with my brother in an outdoor pool. It was pleasant, if rather crowded. Here’s a picture of us:
We went to see a modern dress version of Macbeth yesterday. I'll review it in a forthcoming Start the Week. In the meantime, here are a few snapshots of the action:
I am in the process of reworking some plays in order to make them accessible to a modern audience. Thus Macbeth is set on a building site, so Macbeth says
"Is this a digger I see before me?"
Mrs (not Lady, because I want people to be able to relate to her) Macbeth has a Yorkshire Terrier called Spot, which is why at one point she says
"Out, damn'd Spot".
In one or two areas I have cut out a lot of the persiflage. For example, take this speech by Macbeth:
“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.”
(Copied from The Poetry Foundation’s website.)
My updated version is:
“Ho hum, another day.”
The speech by Mark Anthony in Julius Cheeser has also been modernised:
“Look, guys, I haven’t come to big up this Cheeser bloke, but to put him in his gravy. I mean, that Brutus and his mates are great blokes, but Cheeser? I don’t think so. I mean, what has he done except been successful in a few wars and given a load of dosh to the poor?
As I’m sure you’ll agree, Becks, my rewrites will be a boon to modern audiences.
Hope you’ve enjoyed this letter, Rebecca!
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“Here” being London.
Now in its third and completely revised edition.
Love the artwork. It really brings out the Mac in Beth.
I especially delighted in your drawings of you and your brother this time. Absolutely charming. And the modernized Shakespeare is right on,your highness, I see great potential for attracting the modern-day youth to the Bard.