� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
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I chose William Shakespeare's 28th Sonnet. Why? 'Cause I'm only familiar with Sonnets 116, 118 and one other hilarious one, Sonnet 130. I wanted to acquaint myself with some of his others, and I'm turning--dun dun dun *dramatic background music*--28 this year.
How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarr'd the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,
But day by night and night by day oppress'd?
And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,
When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild'st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger.
Shakespeare, often because of the difficult language and unfamiliar words or phrases, is hard to understand. Many high school students who read, typically Romeo and Juliet, are like "Hhuuhh??" with confounded expressions on their face. I was like that until I got a copy of explanations for various words and phrases. It helped a bunch, let me tell you. But as it was part of an edition of a play the teacher handed out to us, I couldn't keep it. We had to turn in the play once we finished studying it. =os
The above sonnet is not your typical ode to love, I don't think. He is oppressed in some form and cannot find rest. Whatever sorrows dog him, it seems he tries to find peace or rest by telling the day and night his mistress' beauty compliments them. She is like the sun when clouds blot the sky and (I think) is like the moon that gilds(?) the night when the stars aren't very bright.
When compared to the usual love poems such as the Egyptian ones that say "I wish I were...[this] so that you'd..." or that say "My love's neck is like alabaster..." this sonnet is all the more unusual. Yes, he is touting his loved one's attributes, but he only says she is bright. He doesn't go on about her features or her stature. He seems more intent on finding peace and rest, endeavoring to do so by appeasing the day and night, which are the enemies that shake hands in consent of torturing him. They both make his sorrows and griefs more unbearable by stretching them out and strengthening them.
At first, after reading it I was a bit addlepated over the language and disappointed it wasn't more romantic or flowery. But it's grown on me, the more I let it sink in. I like its uniqueness from the typical love poem, but Sonnet 130 is my favorite.
Anybody have a favorite? Warda, what's your favorite?
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