I am trying really hard to remember the first time I read Shakespeare's "Henry triad". (H4 pt 1 & 2 and HV) I loved Henry before the Branagh film. Not that some good cinema didn't feed the fire. (DO NOT get me started on that panty waist Olivier and his pastel tinted pile of poo. I believe I read the Triad for the first time--um-- probably be my sophomore (junior?) year in high school. I do recall that it was Tom Foster's College Seminar class at Vassar Public High School.
I fell in love. My freak switch got flipped. I couldn't think of a more perfect alpha male than King Henry the Fifth of England. What a freakin rock star. I still get all doe-eyed when I think of him. "Normal" girls were drooling on Sean Cassidy or Andy Gibb. Nope not me. I was in love with a dead white guy. Clever, strong, funny, drinks a like a fish, ruthless...sigh... I began to study not only the play with frat boy Hal and some significant historical misinformation; but by the time I got my MA in British Literature some years later, I could easily tell the difference between poetic license and a license to kill. When the fictional HV sentences Falstaff or the real HV orders the French prisoners killed...well, it gets tougher but I still really admire HV. He has flaws, who doesn't? He didn't let the Channel stop him, pushing boundaries and then dying of dysentery.
Yeah, what a waste. Can you begin to imagine what he could have done? How would the issues in the Middle East have been different if he had made it to the Holy Land? That was his plan ya know. Before he (the real HV) died. And then his git of a son died too. Today is St. Crispin Crispian's Day. Once more into the breach dear brothers, for those not here today shall count themselves lost. (get it LOST?? --oh hell. Just have a drink for my boy)
I am trying really hard to remember the first time I read Shakespeare's "Henry triad". (H4 pt 1 & 2 and HV) I loved Henry before the Branagh film. Not that some good cinema didn't feed the fire. (DO NOT get me started on that panty waist Olivier and his pastel tinted pile of poo. I believe I read the Triad for the first time--um-- probably be my sophomore (junior?) year in high school. I do recall that it was Tom Foster's College Seminar class at Vassar Public High School.
I fell in love. My freak switch got flipped. I couldn't think of a more perfect alpha male than King Henry the Fifth of England. What a freakin rock star. I still get all doe-eyed when I think of him. "Normal" girls were drooling on Sean Cassidy or Andy Gibb. Nope not me. I was in love with a dead white guy. Clever, strong, funny, drinks a like a fish, ruthless...sigh... I began to study not only the play with frat boy Hal and some significant historical misinformation; but by the time I got my MA in British Literature some years later, I could easily tell the difference between poetic license and a license to kill. When the fictional HV sentences Falstaff or the real HV orders the French prisoners killed...well, it gets tougher but I still really admire HV. He has flaws, who doesn't? He didn't let the Channel stop him, pushing boundaries and then dying of dysentery.
Yeah, what a waste. Can you begin to imagine what he could have done? How would the issues in the Middle East have been different if he had made it to the Holy Land? That was his plan ya know. Before he (the real HV) died. And then his git of a son died too. Today is St. Crispin Crispian's Day. Once more into the breach dear brothers, for those not here today shall count themselves lost. (get it LOST?? --oh hell. Just have a drink for my boy)
