'Tis Most Relevant To Mine Interests ; Or Please Continue Casting Tom Hiddleston In ALL The Shakespeare Things

Any English lecturer worth their salt will probably tell you a dozen times over that Shakespeare is not meant to be read. Certainly not in the way you would sit down to read works by other dead white English man-writers like Dickens.  Shakespeare's works are essentially scripts, meant to be performed, intended to be a visual spectacle. But it's easy to forget that when you're sitting in an 8am Renaissance Drama class, staring at line upon line of soliloquies, being told to find narrative parallels and figure out which characters are meant to be foils to which other characters. Which is why the recent BBC TV adaptations of four of Shakespeare's historical plays (Richard II, Henry IV parts 1 and 2, and Henry V, otherwise all known as the Henriad) came at such an opportune time in my life.

Production wise, each instalment is stellar. The sets are great, the costumes are appropriately gorgeous  (or grimy and tattered and utterly disgusting, depending on the social standing of the characters) and the acting is out of this world, as should be expected when you have the likes of Jeremy Irons, Ben Whishaw and ultimate Shakespeare fanboy TOM HIDDLESTON in your cast.


But I'm not here to discuss all that, because what really enchanted me to pieces about this series of adaptations is how it wonderfully illustrates the real difference between watching Shakespeare versus reading Shakespeare, made all the more remarkable by the fact that the speeches and dialogue are hardly altered at all in the transition from original text to screen (I know, I totally checked).

You become so accustomed to the modern context of Shakespeare as highbrow academic material,  serious and stodgy, that you forget these plays were originally written to entertain the masses. Shakespeare was Elizabethan pop culture, meant to be as widely accessible as possible at a time when other fancy pants playwrights were too busy incorporating entire portions of Latin (which would only make sense to scholars and the educated upper classes) in their own stage productions. Shakespeare was no elitist. Hell, the dude never even went to university (these days of course, it seems like his works mostly interest bearded, pipe-smoking, tweed-jacket wearing academics with Classics degrees). Also, Shakespeare and his actor bros once stole an entire building and arranged for it to be rebuilt on the other side of the Thames. I kind of want to hang out with the guy now.

Watching a properly done Shakespearean adaptation is to truly witness the warmth and wit and passion and humanity (and the often delightfully bawdy and crass humour - by which I mean FART JOKES) that was completely lost on me when all I did was sit and stare at pages and pages of characters talking to each other, barely making time to really register what was going on beneath the surface. Having actors really bring these scenes to life, with tone and expressions and movement and nuance, was a flaming revelation. It was a very gradual but powerful lightbulb moment of HOLY SHIT I THINK I GET THIS. Even my brother, after nearly two solid  hours worth of Henry V, turned to me and solemnly intoned "I think I see what the big deal is about this guy now".

Not to mention, Tom Hiddleston looks positively fetching in his (historically inaccurate?) cut red leather jacket.



Get thee into mine pants, good sir.

edit : Also also also GUESS WHAT? The entirety of The Hollow Crown is up on youtube for your viewing pleasure!

Richard II
Henry IV Part 1
Henry IV Part 2
Henry V

Go get your Shakespeare on, friends.

Real Men Wear Cravats : BAP's List of Literary Crushes.

I'll be the first to admit that when it comes to fictional boys, the bulk of my attention is reserved for those on screen, but doubt not the fact that I have had my share of infatuations with men who dwell in lands of ink and paper as well. And considering the fact that I am majoring in English Literature, dammit, I'd say this list was a long time coming.


Before I go any further, I'd just like to get mushy for a bit and quickly mention that my aunt was probably the single largest influence on my reading habits as a kid. She would take me by the hand into a bookstore every time she came over to visit, and turn me loose in the children's section with a “Take whatever you want, and however many you like”. I was a good kid, and honestly lousy at taking advantage of people, so I'd never go beyond a RM15 purchase if I could help it. My aunt rectified this by piling more books into my arms anyway ; everything she had remembered reading and loving during her own childhood, she wanted me to read and love. There was never such a thing as a budget when it came to these special shopping trips.

And it's largely thanks to her that these days I cannot imagine going through life without a book within arm's reach whenever possible. Consequently, she's a part of the reason that I'm doing an English degree at all, and it's a fucking shame that she is never going to see me graduate. And perhaps unsurprisingly, she's the one who introduced me to and/or bought me pretty much every book on this list. We fangirled over all the Austen heroes any chance we got. We walked into a person's house and immediately (and unfairly) judged them based on how many books they had in the place. Every time I pick up a novel to read, it is because of her, and it is for her, and I owe her big time for that.


Here we go, in no particular order, and with many pretty pictures from various TV and film adaptations, where available, to make up for the fact that this is one long-ass post :

1. Julian Kirrin [The Famous Five series, Enid Blyton]

Enid Blyton's Famous Five series was my first foray into the world of proper full-length books, as a wide-eyed eight year old. This was where I met the big brother in the mystery-solving Famous 5 gang, and I was completely taken in by his bossiness, protectiveness and adorable arrogance fueled by what I now recognize as the male ego. And although the kid who played him in the 1996 TV adaptation looked incredibly dopey :


He kind of got really hot in the space of roughly 15 years :



'Sup Julian.




2. Laertes [Hamlet, William Shakespeare]

Here's the thing – I had a crush on Hamlet first. I had this picture in my mind of a tortured, conflicted Scandinavian supermodel prince with really great cheekbones. Like this.



To be hot, or to be hotter?

For the first few acts, I was completely smitten with Hamlet and his tragic predicaments. And then he just got whinier, angstier and ever more spineless. I found myself reading monologue upon monologue of him waxing philosophical about mortality and sin, which is all well and good, but damn I wished he would just go and kill someone already. And on top of all that, he decides to take out his frustrations on the only other character even more vulnerable than himself - Ophelia. What a dick.

It was only then that Laertes, brother of Ophelia and Dude Who Works As A Something For The Danish Monarchy But I Don't Remember What, began to seem far more appealing. Laertes, while perhaps nowhere near as intelligent or poetic as Hamlet Prince Of Emo, was most definitely noble, courageous, honorable, and devoted to his family and duty. His adoration for his sister was heart-melting, and it is utterly tragic that he had to lose his entire family and then his own life, for no other reason than the fact that Hamlet was taking too long to make up his mind. Also if a ghost had appeared to Laertes in Act I and told him to kill someone in the name of righteous revenge, Laertes would have marched right up there with this sword and taken down names and chopped off some heads by Act II.


3. Fitzwilliam Darcy [Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen]

Mr. Darcy was my introduction to the world of brooding, silent heroes, and to the world of Jane Austen, and consequently led to my fascination with anything labelled "British", "period" and with the word "cravat" mentioned somewhere. While Austen novels and their adaptations provide plenty of great fodder to analyze through the lens of class, social structure and gender issues, I won't lie ; it is the brooding hot men of the (mostly) upper classes, who once in a while will threaten to loosen a cravat or unbutton a shirtsleeve or two, that keep me holding on. The ones with the seemingly icy, douchey, self-important exteriors, the ones that appear harsh, obsessed with propriety and have no time for the frivolities of lower class women and their insistence on having dances for no reason all the time. The ones who hide boiling passions, good hearts and noble, sensitive souls beneath their impeccably-mannered, coolly dismissive, exquisitely coiffed and cravat-ed facades (I really like cravats okay). And Darcy was the original. I won't get into much detail here, since there are and have been far too many women throughout history who have been extolling his hot, hot virtues. While many other fictional men, of the Austenian persuasion or otherwise, have come and gone, Fitzwilliam Darcy always has a place in my otherwise oh-so-fickle heart.



We'll always have Pemberley, sir.


4. St.John Rivers [Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë]

I'm sorry, but Edward Rochester does not hold a candle to the celibate sex bomb that is St.John Rivers. He is every bit as intense, charismatic and smouldering as Rochester, if not more. He is also not likely to lie about locking up his poor, insane wife in an attic, or be an immoral, selfish opportunist. His source of intense broodery is his deep and passionate love for a young local lady, which he denies himself on account of his dedication to religion and bodily purity. Edward Cullen, this is how you make abstinence HOT.

Sure, St.John has every intention of marrying Jane and then running off to Africa together to do the Lord's missionarying, but at least he is completely direct and forthright about it. Also, he's HOT. He also sees Jane as his intellectual and emotional equal, something Rochester was never able to do, and if not for him and his sisters our heroine would never have developed and strengthened both her individuality and her position in a class-obsessed society. And what does she do? Why, run back to Rochester of course, albeit now as a strong self-made woman. But back to Rochester. Ugh. Not even casting Michael Fassbender in that role is likely to change my opinion of the character, and mind you, someone has already done that.



On a more Rochester-positive note, The Fassbender is totally working those mutton chops. You go gurrrl.


5. Mr. Charles Bingley [Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen]

There is a tendency for adaptations of this novel to turn him into the bumbling, slightly foolish source of comic relief. In reality though, Bingley is sweet, sensitive, sunny, trusting, generous, bright, utterly lovable, quite incapable of disliking anyone or anything, and basically free of both pride and prejudice (suck it, Darcy). The only drawbacks to his character are his self-admitted short attention span, a certain lack of initiative in matters of the heart, and his habit of losing his backbone around his sisters, who are a couple of snooty, pushy,manipulative and vile little bitches. He is a delightfully refreshing change to the dark, complicated, brooding romantic hero with seemingly shady secrets. The nice guys of literature deserve some cred too, you guys.



Also, pretty ginger men. I demand more pretty ginger men in my 19th century literary adaptations.


6. Robbie Turner [Atonement, Ian McEwan]



I will admit that I was only interested in reading this after learning of the existence of the film adaptation starring my Scrawny Scottish Sex God, James McAvoy. I even got the movie tie-in edition of the novel , with James on the cover, because who says you can't enjoy award-winning serious-business LITERATURE! and nomworthy boys at the same time amiright? Reading and watching Atonement is a devastating experience of guilt, lies , lives being torn apart and the futile search for - well, for atonement, set against the backdrop of World War II. And if you know me, you know that soldier stories make me cry, but especially this one, because James McAvoy Robbie Turner spends all his time in the war hanging on to his intense and pure love for Kiera Knightley Cecilia Tallis to keep his humanity intact in the face of the unspeakable hell he needs to deal with every day. And when that final reveal comes towards the end of the book, and the enormity of everything you have just read about Robbie and his life really hits you? If you don't weep just a little bit, then you are surely not human.

Bonus James McAvoy in an emotionally devastating suit.



7. Remus Lupin [All of the Most of the Harry Potters, J.K Rowling]




Most internet fangirlism energies are concentrated on three of Harry Potter's ultimate bad boys ; Sirius Black, Severus Snape, and Draco Malfoy (hahaha what?). They were misunderstood, conflicted, tortured, and gave birth to millions of angst-ridden (read:slash) fan fiction. But I developed a crush on everyone's favourite werewolf right about three sentences after he first appears in Prisoner Of Azkaban. Gentle, firm, composed, lonely, obviously intelligent and evidently hiding something, Lupin was probably the most compelling adult character in the books (right after Dumbledore of course, who sometimes made me apprehensive and nervous in ways Voldemort never managed to).

I was especially touched to find out that J.K Rowling saw him as the best teacher she never had , and that he was one of her favourite characters. Everything about Lupin breaks my heart, to put it simply. Sure he was just as tortured and tragic and conflicted as say, Sirius Black was. And lonely, oh so very lonely. But what really got me was how good Lupin was, despite all the shit he had to deal with in life – that quiet determination to always do the right thing, to place faith in people who needed it, and to always believe the best of the kids under his care. It's tough for a girl not to melt just a little bit. This man deserves a lot more love than he's getting.


10. John Ridd [Lorna Doone, Richard Doddridge Blackmore]

I first read Lorna Doone in 1999, and I still have no idea how my 9 year-old self managed to understand anything of what happened in that story, let alone what any of the characters were saying. All I knew was that one day, I too wanted a boy who would love me enough to scale a waterfall barefoot to save me from my evil oppressors.



11. Mr. Knightley [Emma, Jane Austen]
Mainly because I picture him in my head as Richard Armitage (take note, casting directors of the earth). But Mr. Knightley is just refined, mature, bossy, kind, loving, intelligent, manly, sensitive and hella sexy enough to make me resist the overwhelming urge to punch Emma Woodrow in the mouth every time I so much as think about her character. And when I think about her, all I see is Gwyneth Paltrow, so perhaps the character is not all to blame in this case.


This is Richard Armitage. He's really hot when he's wearing a cravat, loosening a cravat, or taking off a cravat. These credentials are indisputable. Make another Emma and put him in it, stat.



12. Michael Moscovitz [The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot]
The Princess Diaries found a special place in my girly heart all those years ago when I first read it as a 13 year-old who had just watched the trite, predictable Disney adaptation, and wanted to get in on the book series [and when I say trite, I mean it – instead of the protagonist's father being a survivor of testicular cancer, the film just decided to kill him off and turn him into this mythical, inspirational dispenser-of-paternal-wisdom-through -journal-entries. Like Mufasa, only his head doesn't appear in clouds.] And let me tell you that the movies have not come anywhere close to doing the source material any justice. Meg Cabot transcended puerile princess culture with heavy doses of wit and intelligence, with an awkward, pop-culture savvy heroine determined to become her own individual, surrounded by characters you wanted to have as best friends, or your crazy neighbours. If I ever end up with a young teenage niece or cousin hankering for some fluffy princessy chick-litty stuff, these are the books I'll be putting in her hands.



But I digress. Anyway, the crushworthy character in question is the Most Perfect Boy in New York, Michael Moscovitz. He writes his own songs. He codes his own computer programs. He knows all the Star Wars movies by heart. He is romantic in an incredibly low-key, sweet way. He runs his own webzine. He makes prototype robotic limbs. He's sensible, mature, level-headed, and for a teenage boy, that is a big deal. He's usually perceptive to others' feelings (he has his numbskull moments but he's so perfect in every other way that it wouldn't be fair to punish him for those rare lapses in his usually pristine state of... perfection). All this, may I add, by the time he got into his first year at college. In other words, Hottest Geekboy Who Never Existed. We should all be so lucky to find our own Michael Moscovitzes in life.



13. Faramir [Lord of the Rings, J.R.R Tolkien]
I could never understand the infatuation with Aragorn's character; not in the book, and certainly not in the films, where pretty much all I felt was a strong and non-erotic desire to give the rightful King Of Gondor a good shampooing. Faramir, on the other hand, is where it's at. Gentle, noble , sensitive and tragic , with an appreciation for poetry and song. He is like the Renaissance man of Middle Earth (I'm pretty sure they have a term for that). And unless I am very much mistaken, he was one of the very few people in the books who could actually resist the evil lure of the ring, because he is that freaking pure of heart, you guys. Not even Frodo could pull off that shit. I could never understand why Faramir got so little attention, and was utterly thrilled to see him get together with my other most favourite person in LOTRdom, Eowyn The Bad ass. And to be fair, David West is pretty easy on the eye.



Y U NO HAVE MORE FANGIRLS, FARAMIR?

14. Captain Frederick Wentworth [Persuasion, Jane Austen]



The fictional character responsible for The. Most. Romantic. Thing. Ever. Written.

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."


Brb, swooning forever.

But no, seriously. On top of that letter, they (they being the BBC) go ahead and cast Rupert Penry-Jones in the role for the TV adaptation, cravat and shirtsleeves and all. Have you no mercy, British people and your hot hot culture?


15. Atticus Finch [To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee]


Everyone knows Atticus Finch. Everyone knows that he is the closest thing to a perfect human being that could ever exist. There are no words to describe his wisdom and compassion and courage and extra-hot DILFness. Instead I give you bonus young Gregory Peck, in uniform.



Guuuuuhhhh.

A notable exception here would be the ultimate Byronic hero, Heathcliff. I do still enjoy reading Wuthering Heights for its intensity, complexity, creepiness, fucked-up relationship dynamics and stockpile of "Holy shit that did NOT just happen!" moments. But Heathcliff, that abusive, intimidating, foul-tempered, vile, bitter, manic-depressive, necrophiliac puppy-murderer? I DON'T THINK SO, EMILY BRONTE. I DON'T THINK SO.


Also guys, feel free to steal this, like I did, and post your own lists at your leisure. Our love for hot men who don't exist but really should must always be shared. I leave you with one last luscious tidbit of literary wisdom which Google Images saw fit to throw in my direction this evening, and I share it now with you.


You're damn right they do.