I Heart Hamlet
Hamlet is hot.
Hamlet. Shakespearean dead guy. "To be or not to be..." Jumping in graves. Talking to skulls. Crazy dude. Often over-acted. Hot.
It's not any of the things I've just mentioned (taken out of context) that do it. Those are just the images most often brought to mind when one mentions Hamlet to someone who had to suffer through a less-than-inspiring English teacher. That's just the iconography we have been brainwashed as a society into associating with the sexiest man in world literature.
Jill: Hamlet--
Unfortunate victim of bad teaching: Ugh.
Jill: No, but listen. Shakespeare--
Unfortunate victim of bad teaching: Yuch.
Those images, taken out of context, cannot approach the depth, complexity, and sheer sex appeal that is the Danish prince. In my mind.
If the following paragraph makes no sense to you, don't be alarmed. It is merely an academic wise-ass deterrent. Feel free to read on, undeterred.
Yes, not only do I recognize that this is a characterization in my mind but I also have two years of intensive study in Structuralism and its critics that ensure that if you feel the compulsion to argue with my Reading of Hamlet on a level that privileges the Author rather than my experience of the Text as a Reader, I will be quoting Roland Barthes faster than you can complain about my lack of footnotes. The Author is Dead. Let's move on.
Resume here.
Sunday was Shakespeare's (assumed) birthday. (We have only a baptismal record for April 26, and since babies were traditionally christened three days later, it is assumed that Baby Will came into the world April 23, 1564.) I could think of no better way to celebrate (I would say "this joyous occasion", but he died on April 23 as well) than to explicate upon this two word thesis: "Hamlet. Hot."
As is the case regarding most details of Shakespeariana, there has been much debate about Hamlet's age and whether the textual evidence is consistent regarding the matter. Hamlet is usually accepted to be thirty--which is only a few years younger than Ralph Fiennes was when I spent the evening just about drooling over the mezzanine of the Belasco Theatre at his portrayal of His Royal Hotness. This makes Hamlet a man entering his prime. Purrrrr...
But let's put aside the physical for a moment. Let's also disregard the fact that he's a prince. I'm not a gold-digger. Can anyone you know beat this guy's wit? From the first words he utters, the darkly sarcastic "A little more than kin and less than kind" (1.2.65), on through the playful irreverence of his antic act...
Polonius: What do you read, my lord?
Hamlet: Words, words, words.
(2.2.191-2)
...to the naughty innuendoes he makes at Ophelia while awaiting the Players' performance, how can anyone compete with him on the basis of versatility of wordplay? And for those of you who are not entirely familiar with that specific exchange of dialogue, I present
Jill's Annotated Guide to Act 3, Scene 2, Lines 102-110
Hamlet: My lady, shall I lie in your lap? (May allude to innocent cuddling; may also be translated as "So, can we f*&k?")
Ophelia: No, my lord. (Obviously he has to have said it suggestively, or else she wouldn't say no.)
Hamlet: I mean with my head upon your lap? (Here he teases her by playing innocent. How naughty is that?)
Ophelia: Ay, my lord. (So she agrees.)
Hamlet: Do you think I meant country matters? ("You thought I meant something dirty, didn't you?" What a tease!)
Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. (By the way, "nothing" or "0" was slang for vagina.)
Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between a maids' legs. ("Yep, that's a lovely thing to be between a girl's legs.")
Ophelia: What is, my lord? (Isn't she so decorous you could just scream?)
Hamlet: Nothing. (Essentially, "Pu$$y.")
Ophelia: You are merry, my lord. (Evidently, he conveyed the innuendo, because she basically says, "Wow, you're in a good mood tonight, huh?")
So: he is at his peak physically, and he has a prodigious wit, with a sex drive to match. And to pull off this interchange without getting slapped--how charming does this guy have to be? And not only with women--he has to have a certain disarming aura with men as well, or he wouldn't be able to so gracefully call Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's bluff when they try to pretend that they're not there to fish information out of him on behalf of Claudius (2.2). Not to mention that he would never have realized their intention in the first place if he didn't possess a finely-tuned ability to read people--a skill also illustrated when he realizes that he is being messed with when he is called to visit his mother's chambers (3.2.358-9).
Please tell me that you are beginning to swoon.
What about his intellect and psychological complexity? He's more intelligent than just about everyone else in the play, with only Horatio as his possible equal. He's obviously well-read in the classics, as demonstrated by his various allusions, and his easy references to Aeneas and Dido in discussion with the Players (2.2). He dryly suffers pompous fools such as Polonius and Osric, but not without getting in a few jabs at their expense.
He is living in a time and place experiencing a transition from a religious to a scientific worldview. Soooo he entertains thoughts of suicide for a moment or two--so what? He is struggling with a religious upbringing, but clearly leaning toward humanism--no doubt in large part to his university education and having lived in Wittenburg. (You know how wild and liberal those university towns are.) In fact, early on (1.2.174) he promises he'll teach Horatio to drink hard before he returns to school--all this, and the man can hold his liquor, too!
By the way, he can fence. Well.
Need more?
Not only can he recognize shrewd machinations, but he is able to put them into effect himself. (I can't help it--I like my men Machiavellian. And good at it.) The Mousetrap--"The play's the thing/Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king" (2.2.583-4)...? Sheer. Freakin'. Genius.
Suriviving the pirate attack? Resourceful.
Rewriting the letter to have Rosencrantz and Guildenstern killed instead of him? A tad cruel, possibly sociopathic--but definitive. You don't mess with my boy Hamlet.
Jumping in the grave to counter Laertes' drama, declaring "This is I, / Hamlet the Dane" (5.1.241-2)...? One word: badass.
When I go to literary Elysium, I am totally sleeping with Hamlet. Don't even think about trying to fight me for him.
And don't bother getting in line behind me, either.
Happy belated birthday, Billy. What are you now, 442? That's a lot of candles.
Hamlet. Shakespearean dead guy. "To be or not to be..." Jumping in graves. Talking to skulls. Crazy dude. Often over-acted. Hot.
It's not any of the things I've just mentioned (taken out of context) that do it. Those are just the images most often brought to mind when one mentions Hamlet to someone who had to suffer through a less-than-inspiring English teacher. That's just the iconography we have been brainwashed as a society into associating with the sexiest man in world literature.
Jill: Hamlet--
Unfortunate victim of bad teaching: Ugh.
Jill: No, but listen. Shakespeare--
Unfortunate victim of bad teaching: Yuch.
Those images, taken out of context, cannot approach the depth, complexity, and sheer sex appeal that is the Danish prince. In my mind.
If the following paragraph makes no sense to you, don't be alarmed. It is merely an academic wise-ass deterrent. Feel free to read on, undeterred.
Yes, not only do I recognize that this is a characterization in my mind but I also have two years of intensive study in Structuralism and its critics that ensure that if you feel the compulsion to argue with my Reading of Hamlet on a level that privileges the Author rather than my experience of the Text as a Reader, I will be quoting Roland Barthes faster than you can complain about my lack of footnotes. The Author is Dead. Let's move on.
Resume here.
Sunday was Shakespeare's (assumed) birthday. (We have only a baptismal record for April 26, and since babies were traditionally christened three days later, it is assumed that Baby Will came into the world April 23, 1564.) I could think of no better way to celebrate (I would say "this joyous occasion", but he died on April 23 as well) than to explicate upon this two word thesis: "Hamlet. Hot."
As is the case regarding most details of Shakespeariana, there has been much debate about Hamlet's age and whether the textual evidence is consistent regarding the matter. Hamlet is usually accepted to be thirty--which is only a few years younger than Ralph Fiennes was when I spent the evening just about drooling over the mezzanine of the Belasco Theatre at his portrayal of His Royal Hotness. This makes Hamlet a man entering his prime. Purrrrr...
But let's put aside the physical for a moment. Let's also disregard the fact that he's a prince. I'm not a gold-digger. Can anyone you know beat this guy's wit? From the first words he utters, the darkly sarcastic "A little more than kin and less than kind" (1.2.65), on through the playful irreverence of his antic act...
Polonius: What do you read, my lord?
Hamlet: Words, words, words.
(2.2.191-2)
...to the naughty innuendoes he makes at Ophelia while awaiting the Players' performance, how can anyone compete with him on the basis of versatility of wordplay? And for those of you who are not entirely familiar with that specific exchange of dialogue, I present
Jill's Annotated Guide to Act 3, Scene 2, Lines 102-110
Hamlet: My lady, shall I lie in your lap? (May allude to innocent cuddling; may also be translated as "So, can we f*&k?")
Ophelia: No, my lord. (Obviously he has to have said it suggestively, or else she wouldn't say no.)
Hamlet: I mean with my head upon your lap? (Here he teases her by playing innocent. How naughty is that?)
Ophelia: Ay, my lord. (So she agrees.)
Hamlet: Do you think I meant country matters? ("You thought I meant something dirty, didn't you?" What a tease!)
Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. (By the way, "nothing" or "0" was slang for vagina.)
Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between a maids' legs. ("Yep, that's a lovely thing to be between a girl's legs.")
Ophelia: What is, my lord? (Isn't she so decorous you could just scream?)
Hamlet: Nothing. (Essentially, "Pu$$y.")
Ophelia: You are merry, my lord. (Evidently, he conveyed the innuendo, because she basically says, "Wow, you're in a good mood tonight, huh?")
So: he is at his peak physically, and he has a prodigious wit, with a sex drive to match. And to pull off this interchange without getting slapped--how charming does this guy have to be? And not only with women--he has to have a certain disarming aura with men as well, or he wouldn't be able to so gracefully call Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's bluff when they try to pretend that they're not there to fish information out of him on behalf of Claudius (2.2). Not to mention that he would never have realized their intention in the first place if he didn't possess a finely-tuned ability to read people--a skill also illustrated when he realizes that he is being messed with when he is called to visit his mother's chambers (3.2.358-9).
Please tell me that you are beginning to swoon.
What about his intellect and psychological complexity? He's more intelligent than just about everyone else in the play, with only Horatio as his possible equal. He's obviously well-read in the classics, as demonstrated by his various allusions, and his easy references to Aeneas and Dido in discussion with the Players (2.2). He dryly suffers pompous fools such as Polonius and Osric, but not without getting in a few jabs at their expense.
He is living in a time and place experiencing a transition from a religious to a scientific worldview. Soooo he entertains thoughts of suicide for a moment or two--so what? He is struggling with a religious upbringing, but clearly leaning toward humanism--no doubt in large part to his university education and having lived in Wittenburg. (You know how wild and liberal those university towns are.) In fact, early on (1.2.174) he promises he'll teach Horatio to drink hard before he returns to school--all this, and the man can hold his liquor, too!
By the way, he can fence. Well.
Need more?
Not only can he recognize shrewd machinations, but he is able to put them into effect himself. (I can't help it--I like my men Machiavellian. And good at it.) The Mousetrap--"The play's the thing/Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king" (2.2.583-4)...? Sheer. Freakin'. Genius.
Suriviving the pirate attack? Resourceful.
Rewriting the letter to have Rosencrantz and Guildenstern killed instead of him? A tad cruel, possibly sociopathic--but definitive. You don't mess with my boy Hamlet.
Jumping in the grave to counter Laertes' drama, declaring "This is I, / Hamlet the Dane" (5.1.241-2)...? One word: badass.
When I go to literary Elysium, I am totally sleeping with Hamlet. Don't even think about trying to fight me for him.
And don't bother getting in line behind me, either.
Happy belated birthday, Billy. What are you now, 442? That's a lot of candles.
Labels: adventures in theater, geeky interlude, Jill's attachments to fictional characters, most popular posts by various standards, on reading, specific men I openly adore, thoughts theories and discussions
posted by Jill at
4/25/2006 12:00:00 AM
42 Comments:
Shakespear rocks. Totally.
By
toadman, At
4/25/2006 12:26:00 AM
In a little less than 2 weeks I get to go see Hamlet at the last weekend the old Guthrie is open here (the theater is moving to new digs - kind of a shame really as it was designed by Ralph Rapson, a revolutionary design around a thrust stage that created intimacy between audience and actors, but I digress.)
By
Daniel, At
4/25/2006 12:42:00 AM
While I totally agree that 'Bill Rocks!', Jill I must ask...Hamlet may indeed be...errr...Hot, but do you forget he is also a tortured soul with a minor oedipus complex who is, though it can be argued otherwise, quite mad...his indecisiveness, to the point where events are decided for him, not by him is very un-Machiavellian, though I do concede his manipulation of the players and therefore the response of the court is something that old Niccolo would be very proud of...but would a woman really wish to be with one so capable of deceit?
By
Indiana, At
4/25/2006 01:19:00 AM
As hot as fictional characters can be, I would have to agree that he certainly has charisma and charm.
However, they didn't bathe then. And that tends to turn me off.
By
Janet, At
4/25/2006 02:27:00 AM
Stoppard's "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead" is to me a far more satisfying telling of the story than Billy's. Besides (and apropos of nothing), I'd totally do Ophelia.
By
The Chronic Curmudgeon, At
4/25/2006 03:10:00 AM
Having studied Hamlet at length, alas he did nothing for me. As for Billy, I do prefer them a litle younger... ;)
By
ChickyBabe, At
4/25/2006 04:00:00 AM
Toadman: Rock on.
Daniel: Good point. I enjoy staging things in a thrust arrangement for that very reason. In only very rare cases would I opt for a proscenium, if given the choice.
Indiana, that's a lot of questions! No, I haven't intellectually forgotten any of the elements that you address, but I was not 100% joking when I said I'd whip out Barthes at a moment's notice. I am most serious in my assertion that this post is the result of a Barthesian reading of Hamlet--I am completely aware of my own "practical collaboration" (Barthes 163) with the text, which is a concept very different from our traditional conception "a work" of literture, which privileges only what is written on the page (Barthes 157).
David Harvey, author of The Condition of Postmodernity, nicely sums up the concept of a text in this way: "Writers who create texts or use words do so on the basis of other texts and words they have encountered, while readers deal with them in the same way" (49). In other words, the effect of the concept of a text is to take into account a writer's/reader's interaction with the words laid out by the author of a particular work. As a reader of Hamlet and a writer of my own text, I am interacting with Shakespeare's text in a subjective way, drawing connections with ideas already deposited in my own mind. My current post is not intended to be a comprehensive academic reading or psychological analysis of the character of Hamlet; it is rather the product of of my own mental and emotional interaction with Shakespeare's play, and is not limited to the words he set on the page.
In fact, to go further, I would assert that my reading supposes some sort of afterlife in which Hamlet has come to learn from the crises he experienced in his lifetime, and to more fully realize his own potential based on what he learned from those crises.
So the short answer to your question is this: yes, as an academic, I am fully aware of all of those elements of criticism. As a reader, they do not deter me from finding him attractive.
And if I were conducting a traditional academic reading, I would, in fact, argue against Hamlet actually being mad. Additionally, if were philosophically debating the question of "to what degree is Hamlet the author of his own destiny", I would discuss his identity as a tragic hero within the structural, philosophical, and rhetorical conventions of the genre, and conclude that he is no more a puppet than any other man--and in comparison to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, he could actually be seen to be a quite powerful agent of his own destiny.
Works Cited
Barthes, Roland. "From Work to Text." 1971. Image, Music, Text. Ed. and Trans. Stephen Heath. New York: Hill and Wang-Farrar, Straus and Giroux. 1977. 155-164.
Harvey, David. The Condition of Postmodernity. Malden, Mass: Blackwell Publishers, Inc., 1990.
Yeah, Janet, you're right. Men who don't bathe are such a turn-off.
CC, methinks you're only saying that because you've read my bio.
Definitely, CB. 442 is, like, so ancient.
By
Jill, At
4/25/2006 07:55:00 AM
That was certainly a cool encomium of Hamlet. But to be sassy and make a comeback to your Barthes, I quote an amalgam of post-revisionist historians: "The author might be dead, but the history is still around us."
Vive la difference!
By
Momentary Academic, At
4/25/2006 08:35:00 AM
In lieu of trying to work in a witty Hamlet quote, I'll simply agree with you, the man has it goin' on. For some reason though, I've always fancied Tybalt over any other of Billy's boys.
By
Dustin, At
4/25/2006 08:40:00 AM
Shakespeare's son Hamnet complaining to one of the Midsummer Night actors that stories are all the writer cares about now...
"If I DIED, he'd just write a PLAY about it. 'Hamnet.'"
Name the author of those lines!
By
Faltenin, At
4/25/2006 08:44:00 AM
Always think Ophelia's a bit daft, but that's probably Helena Bonham Carter. I like what you said earlier, your subjectivity in reading it, which i think is perfectly fair and in many respect very useful to make ancient texts more relevant.
well, this one may smile, and smile, and still be a villain ;-)
I actually like the madness in him, that's what makes him more fun.
By
treespotter, At
4/25/2006 08:58:00 AM
M.A.... ssshhhhh... don't let that get out. ;)
Tybalt?!?! Tybalt?!?! Dustin! Now I want to psychoanalyze you based on that choice. Mercutio.
Faltenin, surely you jest! Neil Gaiman. :P
Treespotter, I'm not a big fan of Ophelia, myself. There's no accounting for taste with some guys! ;)
By
Jill, At
4/25/2006 09:03:00 AM
Jill - actually, no... I was Guildenstern in a high school production (the last time I did anything that could at least descriptively be called "acting") and the play has ever since remained within the book and volume of my brain.
But if being a Stoppard fan wins me points, hey, I'll take it. Anything to win points.
By
The Chronic Curmudgeon, At
4/25/2006 09:53:00 AM
Heh. I wrote my Master's thesis on that play.
By
Jill, At
4/25/2006 10:07:00 AM
Oh I heart you, Jill!
I swoon at the very name 'Hamlet'. It is my favorite play after doing a close reading in a Shakespeare class in college and seeing several different versions of it...BBC production with Derek Jacobi (amazing), Laurence Olivier., Ethan Hawke, and a production put on by the Shakespeare Festival here in Philly.
By
Sarah, At
4/25/2006 10:18:00 AM
Great post, Jill - Hamlet is my husband's (the aforementioned Shakespeare nut) favorite. I bought him tickets to a small theater company one year for our anniversary - we had seen them perform A Midsummer Night's Dream and Twelfth Night, both done very well. Alas, their rendition of Hamlet was dreadful and my husband insisted we walk out. According to him, they just weren't doing the Prince justice.
By
Jessica, At
4/25/2006 10:18:00 AM
Where do you teach, Jill? I'm moving to NY and enrolling ASAP.
... also, your intellectual response to Indiana followed by your brief reply to Janet is a testament to your diversity. I'll be smiling about that all day long.
By
peefer, At
4/25/2006 11:38:00 AM
Great posting Jill. I will never look at Hamlet in the same light again. Just don't give me Mel Gibson.
By
Mikey, At
4/25/2006 12:24:00 PM
god, i so love hamlet, too, if by 'hamlet' you mean 'those voicemails you owe me.'
By
ducklet, At
4/25/2006 12:36:00 PM
Sarah, I heart Hamlet so much that I wrote him in as a character in an autobiographical play I wrote. As far as imaginary men in my life, he's fantastic.
Well, Jessica, that's an excellent reason to walk out. I hope they did Puck justice?
That's me, Peefer, erasing the line between high and low culture one irreverently naughty comment at a time.
Oh no, Mikey. I don't play nice with Mel Gibson films. Except the really early ones.
Brandon, Brandon, Brandon... ok, that should be enough to go on for now.
By
Jill, At
4/25/2006 01:26:00 PM
mmm. we have similar taste in fictional shakespearian characters...
By
suze, At
4/25/2006 01:58:00 PM
execellent choice. And wonderful support of your claim. Hamlet is a hottie.
In eight years it's Will's 450th B-day. Maybe a good time to visit Stratford...
By
Cheryl, At
4/25/2006 04:06:00 PM
Ya, I know. Slightly odd choice. But everyone always roots for Mercutio. Tybalt's a good guy to...in a Capulecent sort of way.
By
Dustin, At
4/25/2006 04:55:00 PM
I think this is my favorite one yet! Well done, Jill.
By
Megan, At
4/25/2006 05:01:00 PM
I've often been left with nothing but tortured distaste for Bill and his work. Of course, in high school it was never about the character studies, much. Everything else, but. So, I just never knew. And now am embittered.
You are my new favorite teacher.
Brilliant.
By
Jennifer, At
4/25/2006 05:40:00 PM
Ophelia was a wuss. Hamlet needed a dame who could dish it back out to him at the same level and hold her own at his game. If Ophelia hadn't died, she would have wound up that chick that had one love affair go wrong and then gets thirty cats to share out her life, and gives them literary names or something. "Spenser! Get DOWN off that sideboard."
I wrote about Shakespeare as well (in a fashion) on my blog, and it totally flopped, and WITH footnotes, no less. I am sure there were many who were saying, "Screw this. I'm going to go check out that blog where they tell about their lousy dates and how drunk they got and fell asleep outside their apartment door and woke up with drool sticking between their head and the "WELCOME" mat."
I'm with you, Jill. Hamlet is a hottie. I've always wanted a chance in Elysium to go after John Keats and knock that insipid little Fanny Brawne out of his head.
I'm glad you took the time to put this together. I really enjoyed it.
By
washingtoncube, At
4/25/2006 07:02:00 PM
Jill - Great post and interesting arguement for Hamlet. That said, I need to address something that is bothering me. I come here for information. Between your blog and some others this is where I get my news. And while I appreciate knowing about Shakespeare's birth/death day, why didn't anyone mention that today (4/25) was Ben&Jerry's FREE CONE DAY? I can't believe I missed it. (Or was this only true in the DC area?)
By
Grad School Reject, At
4/25/2006 09:26:00 PM
Shakespeare fails to make me feel all hot and bothered, but if it works for you, I say..."you go girlfriend!" (this comment sounds better if said, rather than read)
Personally, I find the whole fudge and whip cream phrase of yours WAY BETTER than any Danishman prancing around in tights while rhyming his words.
By
DIAMONDKT, At
4/25/2006 10:10:00 PM
Awesome-- love your close-reading of the innuendo.
(and it reflects poorly on me that I always think of Ralph Wiggum playing Laertes in the Simpsons version...)
By
mysterygirl!, At
4/25/2006 10:14:00 PM
I need a time machine or something to shake Bill's hand.
Jill, why couldn't you have been my English instructor? *sigh*
By
The Grunt, At
4/26/2006 04:02:00 AM
So I take it you're not a big fan of Laertes. You know, if Laertes wasn't a sneaky vengeance seeking kinda guy, he'd give Hamlet a run for his money. . . or your money as the case may be.
By
lil'bitty, At
4/26/2006 09:04:00 AM
awesome, i love this post. shakespeare rocks. of course, i am a huge lit geek though, so my opinion is a little bias...
By
steph, At
4/26/2006 10:23:00 AM
I'm so flattered by all the wishes that I was your teacher! Yay! Very busy with actual teaching today (blasphemy!) but I will get a new post up soon.
Lil Bitty, in terms of Shakespearean hotness, Laertes is way down on my list. He'd have to fight Prince Hal, Puck, and Mercutio. At least.
By
Jill, At
4/26/2006 07:05:00 PM
Nothing?...p-u-double dollar signs? a tale, told by an idiot... nothing? This guy is starting to make sense. Thanks Jill.
By
at the Lake, At
4/26/2006 07:14:00 PM
"The Tempest" always makes me happy. . .
As far as Hamlet, there's something about self reflective brooders that are able to state what they're thinking. Can you imagine his blog?
There might be a challenge in that somewhere. . .
By
Popeye, At
4/27/2006 07:44:00 AM
You see, At the Lake, there was a method to his madness. And it all led back to nothing. ;)
Oooh, Popeye, The Tempest makes me happy as well. I saw it once with Patrick Stewart as Prospero. After the show, I was waiting outside for someone, and he came out and I met him, and we hung out together for a few minutes listening to a street musician playing the saxophone. That's one of my favorite New York stories! By the way, he's a great guy and he gave the saxophonist a nice tip.
Oh, and Hamlet blogging? Already on my to do list.
By
Jill, At
4/27/2006 01:29:00 PM
I'm not so sure I concur. Hamlet always struck me as a Mama's boy. =) But then again my concentration is in Rhetoric. Now give me 5 minutes in the closet with Plato and I'm all set! To each her own, right?
By
Anita, At
4/27/2006 03:02:00 PM
well done, jill, you won me over.
how did i not remember the bit about "nothing" - i thought i knew this stuff. that certainly adds something to the intercourse.
and your second to last line. ouch, that smarts.
By
jaymarie, At
4/30/2006 02:55:00 PM
oh my gosh, i just read the comments and saw the bit about patrick stewart. you're killing me here!!! he is my only famous person crush, do you hear me? the ONLY one.
sigh.
i *heart* patrick stewart.
By
jaymarie, At
4/30/2006 02:58:00 PM
Hamlet, by Olivier. I'd do him.
By
the Yearning Heart, At
5/02/2006 11:42:00 PM
Well, yes, Anita, he can come off that way. Plato is an interesting choice.
Sorry, Jaymarie, but I will fight for my man; however, I'll gladly let you have Patrick Stewart. Great guy and all, but you seem thrilled.
Yearning Heart, Olivier certainly was a ridiculously attractive man... but a bit overdramatic for my taste. ;)
By
Jill, At
5/03/2006 01:54:00 PM
Hamlet is my favorite play, I think. Maybe tied with King Lear. Both those plays are the shit.
By
Carl Weaver, At
12/06/2006 02:44:00 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home