"Fuck You, Hamlet" (Thoughts On The Horrible Mark Taper Forum Hamlet 2025 Production)

"Fuck you, Hamlet." That is something that Ophelia says in this debacle. Seriously. And that line should have been the title of the production, because it is clear that adapter and director Robert O'Hara hates Hamlet and also doesn't quite understand the play. The same might be true of the entire cast. This is the absolute worst fucking thing I have ever seen on stage (high school productions and amateur improv group performances included). I was not asked to review this production, and so I did not take notes. So this isn't one of my regular reviews, but rather a bit of a rant, because I have to get this off my chest, and then I hope to expunge the experience from my memory.

Let me begin by mentioning the things that I liked about this production, because that won't take long at all. First, there is a nice moment when Rosencrantz (Ty Molbak) and Guildenstern (Danny Zuhlke) whisper to each other, and that is what leads to Hamlet's questioning whether they were in fact sent for, a nice little bit of business. The second thing I liked was the moment when Hamlet (Patrick Ball) goes to kill Claudius (Ariel Shafir) when he is praying. In this production, Hamlet doesn't hesitate. He goes up and cuts his throat. And then there is a lighting and sound cue, and Hamlet is again downstage of Claudius (who faces away from the audience in his prayers), and we see that Hamlet was just imagining doing the deed. That wasn't bad. But the thing I liked most about this production was Gertrude's gorgeous fur coat. Yup, that full-length white fur was far and away the best thing about this production. Enough about that.

I knew we were in trouble from the beginning, because the first scene is cut. That's right, the opening scene of Hamlet is cut from this production. Why would anyone do that? And then when we do finally see the Ghost, it is done is such a ridiculous and confusing way, with four actors sort of miming the Ghost's part, while a giant face on the screen speaks the Ghost's lines. Awful. Barnardo and Marcellus are completely cut from the production. Before any of that happens, however, we are introduced to Hamlet and Ophelia (Coral Pena), which is not a bad idea. I actually like when productions show us a bit of the relationship between those two in a wordless way near the beginning. But here, well, Hamlet and Ophelia are basically fucking. That is how the production starts, and then Claudius and Gertrude (Gina Torres) enter, and we get the second scene of the play. At this point, I was only disliking the production, and had not yet come to loathe it. The performances are not good. That is the nicest possible way I can state that. It wasn't that far into the play when I thought, "I'm looking forward to this Hamlet's death." All sorts of lines are cut, and entire, well-known, speeches. Polonius' speeches to both Laertes and Ophelia are cut, for fuck's sake. And so later when Ophelia returns Hamlet's letters, people might wonder, "Why is she doing that?" The part where Polonius tells Claudius and Gertrude that he's discovered the reason for Hamlet's current state is also cut. So many cuts. Hell, this production has just one Player. How could one Player deliver 'The Mousetrap'?" you ask? Well, I'll tell you: very poorly.

But the cuts are not the worst of it. Far from the worst, in fact. Some words are changed, so "bare bodkin" becomes "bare dagger," for example. Maybe you're thinking that's not too serious. And maybe it isn't. But at one point, Hamlet actually calls Gertrude a "come dump," which is pretty far from what Shakespeare wrote, or even meant. I assumed I hadn't heard that correctly, and asked my friend Kate, who assured me that is what the asshole said. But long before that, we had to watch Hamlet and Horatio doing the swearing business regarding the Ghost. You probably remember that Hamlet makes Horatio swear upon his sword not to reveal what he has seen and heard. Well, in this play there are no swords. Can you guess what this terrible Hamlet refers to when mentioning his sword? Yes, he tells Horatio to suck his cock. I'm not kidding. Swearing upon the sword means sucking Hamlet's dick in this production. That was the moment when I started to loathe this production. But these assholes weren't done with their dick-sucking references. You might recall that wonderful scene from Shakespeare's play where Hamlet confronts Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, using the metaphor of the pipe. Well, here playing the pipe also becomes sucking Hamlet's dick. I kind of wish Robert O'Hara had just sucked Patrick Ball's cock in private and gotten this whole mess out of his system without having to attack the public with his juvenile garbage. This production isn't just bad, it is aggressively bad.

And that still isn't the worst of it. When you think they're about to get into the duel and end the goddamn pain for the audience, instead a detective or lawyer or... you know, it doesn't matter what he is. He has no business being in Hamlet. Anyway, this bastard enters and begins questioning Horatio about the final scene in some kind of pathetic attempt at deconstructing the play. And then it goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on. And it turns out Ophelia is still alive, having faked her death (seriously), and they begin to reenact scenes, but in modern language. (All of Ophelia's mad scenes were cut anyway.)  Somewhere in there, my friend Kate suggested we leave. I was tempted, but felt some perverse need to see how it ended. And it went on and on and on and on. And the characters started mentioning that Hamlet believed himself to be in a Shakespearean production. So in this world, suddenly, Shakespeare exists. If that's the case, shouldn't these characters be surprised that they all have names from one of Shakespeare's plays and seem to be living its plot? But no, they're not that self-aware. If you didn't hate all the characters before this, you certain despised them all now, which has to be the point. Robert O'Hara wants us all to hate Hamlet as much as he does, but what happens is that we just end up hating Robert O'Hara. It's clear he thinks he's smarter than Shakespeare, a better writer than Shakespeare. He isn't. He possesses not even the smallest fraction of talent that Shakespeare had. I hope to never again be subjected to anything this moron does.

Shakespeare References in Fahrenheit 451

It seemed a good time to revisit Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, and I found that it contains several Shakespeare references. The first play mentioned is Hamlet: "But many were those whose sole knowledge of Hamlet (you know the title certainly, Montag; it is probably only a faint rumor of a title to you, Mrs. Montag) whose sole knowledge, as I say, of Hamlet was a one-page digest in a book that claimed: now at last you can read all the classics; keep up with your neighbors" (p. 50). Next Bradbury mentions Shakespeare, having one character ask, "How many copies of Shakespeare and Plato?" (p. 67). Shakespeare is mentioned again ten pages later: "Oh, there are many actors alone who haven't acted Pirandello or Shaw or Shakespeare for years because their plays are too aware of the world" (p. 77). And then: "For these were the hands that had acted on their own, no part of him, here was where the conscience first manifested itself to snatch books, dart off with Job and Ruth and Willie Shakespeare, and now, in the firehouse, these hands seemed gloved with blood" (p. 95). A little later, a character says, "All's well that is well in the end" (p. 97), a variation of Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well. The book refers again to Shakespeare, and also to Julius Caesar: "Why don't you belch Shakespeare at me, you fumbling snob? 'There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am arm'd so strong in honesty that they pass by me as an idle wind, which I respect not!' How's that?" (p. 105). That comes from a speech that Brutus delivers in the fourth act.

Fahrenheit 451 was published in 1953. The copy I read is from the 22nd printing, November 1970.

Love's Labour's Lost (Independent Shakespeare Company's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

It's summer in Los Angeles (isn't it always? you ask), and that means it's time for Shakespeare in the park. Griffith Park, that is. That is the summer home of the Independent Shakespeare Company, and last night they officially opened the season with Love's Labour's Lost, a comedy that focuses on love and attraction, and reminds us how love can strike us at any time, even when we are determined to avoid it. It also celebrates language and witty wordplay. These days when the world seems to lack the necessary portions of both love and wit, it is wonderful to be treated to these things in abundance, presented with the joy that we've come to expect from Independent Shakespeare Company performances. This production is directed by company co-founder David Melville, who also takes on the role of Costard, a clown.

Work has begun in earnest on the company's permanent stage in the park, which means that Love's Labour's Lost is being performed in that more intimate space farther up the hill (which is largely in the shade, by the way). It is performed in the round, the main platform straddling the dry creek and painted mostly green. A smaller, covered platform is located to the side, but the company makes great use of much of the space around these platforms as well as the platforms themselves, and there is some interaction with the audience. This is set up before the play begins, with members of the cast welcoming us to the Court of Navarre, and warning us that there are rules against "commingling with members of the opposite sex." And to show just what is meant, Costard and Jaquenetta (Diana Reyes) engage in a bit of hanky panky before being quickly interrupted and arrested, all done to piano accompaniment. Yes, this production adds a bit of a live score, with several instruments set up to one side of the main stage, a really nice touch that adds to the fun vibe.

The play begins with Ferdinand (Pierre Adeli, who was excellent as both Duke Frederick and Duke Senior in last year's As You Like It) imparting the rules for the course of study to be undertaken by himself and the three others - Berowne, Dumaine and Longaville. The swearing off the company of women being an important part. Dumaine (Patrick Batiste, who was wonderful as Ferdinand in 2021's The Tempest) and Longaville (Isaac Ybarra) have no hesitation in signing the document, but Berowne (Brent Charles) pauses. Part of the success of the play depends on the charisma of Berowne, and Brent Charles delivers a very cool Berowne, even sporting sunglasses early on, setting him apart from the others. And he's incredibly funny. He is someone the audience immediately connects with, which is important. And on his "meet some mistress fine," he picks out a woman in the audience to focus on. Much of the physical comedy is stylized, as when Ferdinand says "adieu" to Berowne, and all three directly turn their backs on Berowne. Much of the motion is choreographed in such a way as to give it a heightened sense of reality, as in a musical. When each receives his book, the men move to their various spots to read, Berowne choosing to join the audience, making it clear that he has different feelings about this endeavor, again setting him apart. He even puts the book over his face, which is interesting, because later all four will hold the books in front of their faces in vain attempts to keep from viewing the women.

Because the men have sworn off the company of women, the princess of France (Melissa Chalsma) and her ladies are not allowed inside the court, and instead are given lesser accommodations out of doors, which they are clearly not happy about. And a good deal of humor results, much of it in their expressions. Melissa Chalsma is particularly wonderful in that regard. Through costume, it is clear which woman will end up with which man. Berowne wears a red jacket, Dumaine a blue one, and Longaville a green one, and the women they will fall for incorporate the corresponding colors in their outfits, Katherine (Asha Noel Iyer) wearing a blue dress, Maria (Carene Rose Mekertichyan) in a green one. Rosaline (Jacqueline Misaye, who was fantastic as Rosalind in As You Like It) has a red wrap. This matching actually even extends to Armado and Jaquenetta, for the color of her shoe matches the feather in his hat. The costume designer is Garry Lennon.

This company has several actors who are particularly skilled at comedy. David Melville, as Costard, is one. His bit about the "remuneration" is especially hilarious. William Elsman, who plays Boyet, advisor to the Princess, is another. There is something funny even in the way he carries himself. And this season the company has added a new actor talented in this area, Bernado De Paula, who is making his ISC debut as Don Armado. Armado is delightful when professing his love, the only man here who is not reluctant to do so from the start. He holds his love's shoe on "which is baser," and for him that article is endowed with her charm. Jaquenetta for her part is a bold and straightforward woman who is well aware that she is desirable, and Diana Reyes does a great job in the role. Also quite funny is Daniel DeYoung as Holofernes, the schoolmaster. One of the production's funniest sequences is that of the "Muscovites," when the men come to the women in disguises that the women are able to see through without trouble (the men, when the women exchange jewelry, are not so adept at discovering the deception).

It's all about love, and we see how falling in love changes these characters. Especially wonderful is when the King enters dancing about, completely joyful in love. The world needs that kind of love, that kind of joy. Each of the men in turn enters, the others then hiding within the audience so as to not have their love discovered. They are hilarious when confronting each other. Berowne takes great joy in taunting the other three, until all realize that they suffer from the same great trouble. And then their tunes change. It is then that Berowne says, "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:/They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;/They are the books, the arts, the academes/That show, contain and nourish all the world." And who can argue with that? It is interesting too, because it is ultimately the women who are in charge here. They decide the outcome of the play. Perhaps the best performances of the evening are by Melissa Chalsma as the Princess, and Jacqueline Misaye as Rosaline. The Princess' reply "No," to the question of dancing is hilarious, and then the moment when in the middle of chaos, she and the King begin a sweet dance is beautiful. I love how this play defies expectations. Comedies end with weddings and dances, but here there comes a sudden end to the joy, black mourning gowns halting the dance. And that is one of the performance's strongest moments, and one of its least expected.

This production of Love's Labour's Lost runs through July 27, 2025. Visit the Independent Shakespeare Company's website for the complete schedule. There is one intermission, which comes at the end of Act IV Scene ii. The performance is free, but donations are encouraged. There are also T-shirts, sweatshirts, and tote bags for sale, as well as food and drink. So there are plenty of ways to offer support. This is a time when the arts need all the support they can get.

Nice Girl (Rogue Machine's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

They say you can never go home again. But what if you never left? Would the natural growth and changes that should have occurred to both you and the place be impeded? And when is it too late to make those changes, to have that growth? In Nice Girl, written by Melissa Ross, Josephine Rosen is a 37-year-old woman who, apart from a few months of college, has never left home. She lives with her mother, Francine. With her twentieth high school reunion looming, she falls into an unexpected friendship with a coworker named Sherry and runs into an old classmate named Donny, who flirts with her, and these two events get her thinking about the possibility of change, that maybe it is not too late for her. Nice Girl was first produced a decade ago in New York, and is receiving its west coast premiere now at Rogue Machine Theatre, in the intimate upstairs space of the Henry Murray Stage. This production is directed by Ann Bronston, and stars Anaïs Fairweather as Josephine, Bailey Humiston as Sherry, Jeff Lorch as Donny, and Susan Peahl as Francine.

The set begins as a room in Francine's house, and is designed to make us feel a part of the world, for we are essentially in the room with the characters, the walls behind us being the walls of the room, with wallpaper and a window behind the folks stage left, and a turntable next to the people seated stage right. When Josephine and Francine enter, they are arguing, the kind of argument that reminds me of home. The play takes place in a suburb of Boston, and not the wealthy sort of suburb one might think of. And the argument is the sort that occurs between family members who spend perhaps too much time together. It is not long before Josephine threatens to leave. It is an empty threat, and Francine knows it. She replies, "Fine with me." We know it would not be fine with her, but feel that also perhaps a small part of her would want an end to what she labels as nagging. But then what would be left? What's important is that everything here is completely believable. We know these characters, and we like them immediately. We feel at home with them. And, because of the way the set is designed, we are at home with them.

When Sherry enters, the room becomes the break room at the office where she and Josephine work. And throughout the performance one room is quickly and convincingly transformed into several locations, including a butcher shop, a night club, and the porch outside of Josephine's home. Sherry is a ball of energy, the type that, if she allowed herself to stop for a moment, we fear would break down completely. She divulges personal information to Josephine, namely that she has learned the man she is dating is married and has kids. Josephine tries to keep up with the conversation, which is largely one-sided, and most of her responses seem to come out of kindness. But when Sherry describes her own situation as so depressing that she wants to kill herself, and adds, "Know what I mean," Josephine's "Yeah" is the first thing from her mouth that sounds totally sincere. Josephine has found an unlikely kindred spirit of sorts. So when Sherry declares they are going to say yes to everything, we in the audience begin to feel hope for Josephine.

When picking up food for that night, Josephine runs into an old high school classmate, Donny, who works as a butcher and is clearly having trouble dealing with his station in life. In addition to that dead-end job he has a marriage that is ending, but hasn't quite ended. He flirts somewhat awkwardly with Josephine, but that is enough for her to feel some spark, some life in her. Interestingly, early in that scene they discuss her troubles with veal, specifically that the meat is from babies that are taken away from their mothers. It is a hint that perhaps the reason for her still living at home is not entirely the fault of the mother, but something within herself. Neither she nor Donny is all that keen on going to the reunion at first, though both still feel a sort of pull toward it. Reunions generally cause folks to take a more critical look at their own lives, to compare where they are to where they had thought they'd be, something that is depressing for many people, as they come up terribly short. So what does one do when faced with such shortcomings? Blame someone else? Lie to people, telling them you're something you're not? It's a serious subject, and we in the audience can't help but think of our own lives, and the areas in which we have failed ourselves. We can't help but see ourselves in these characters. In a scene where Josephine is exercising, she tells her mother, "I'm not going anywhere," which is maybe the most heartbreaking line of all. This play would be terribly depressing if it weren't so damn funny, particularly its first half. This is the sort of the play that has the audience repeatedly laughing aloud.

A great deal of the joy of this play is due to the tremendous and captivating performances by all four members of the cast. There is not a single moment that doesn't ring true, because of their incredible talent, and each of these characters has difficult scenes. Perhaps because there is so much laughter, the scenes of ache and pain are all the more effective and affecting. Each of the characters is somewhat troubled, and the play does not offer easy solutions to any of them. Perhaps the most difficult scene is that where we learn Sherry, even though she's been betrayed by the man she's been dating, still wants to be with him. Normally we might expect a character in that situation to have gained enough pride in herself to lift her head and walk away. But that is just it: no one here is able to walk away. We might think of Josephine when early on she wonders if anyone is really happy. But maybe it is Francine's line to Josephine that stays with us, that life is not that bad.

Nice Girl runs through July 20, 2025. Visit the theater's website for the complete schedule. There is one short intermission. The scenic and lighting designer is Barbara Kallir. Sound design is by Christopher Moscatiello. Costume design is by Christine Cover Ferro. I should also mention the dialect coach, Lauren Lovett. I am from Massachusetts, and these actors totally nailed the dialect. Rogue Machine Theatre is located within the Matrix Theatre, at 7657 Melrose Ave. in Los Angeles, California.

Much Ado About Nothing (Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum 2025 Production) Theatre Review

The new season at the wonderful Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum has begun, kicking off with William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. In these days of division and misogyny and bigotry and deception, it makes perfect sense to turn to a comedy like Much Ado About Nothing, which is a love story, but also one that involves villainy, deceit and questions of trust, and where, after all that, everything turns out all right in the end. I think we need that, we need to believe things will turn out all right at the end. The theme for this season at the theatre is "A Season Of Resilience," and most of us are hopeful that this country will be able to recover from its current crisis, that people will be able to finally admit their mistakes.

This production of Much Ado is set in another period of deep division in our nation, the Civil War (though oddly the program lists the performance as taking place in Elizabethan era England), and even begins with some of the cast singing "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" (a song they return to periodically throughout the performance). A change in time period and place (in this case, from Sicily) necessitates some minor changes in the text, something I always have mixed feelings about (the "cinque-pace" becomes the "polka," and "the Great Cham's beard" becomes "Ulysses Grant's beard," and "tabor and the pipe" becomes "piano and the harp," for examples). Don Pedro (here renamed General Penn), Claudio (here Captain Claudio rather than Count Claudio) and Benedick (here Sergeant Benedick rather than Signior Benedick) are Union soldiers, with Don John on the side of the Confederacy ("John the bastard" becomes "John the rebel"). That heightens that sense of brother against brother that exists in the play, something that is talked about in any lesson on the Civil War, and perhaps gives Don John (Emoria Weidner) more reason for his hatred and villainy.

The two main relationships, however, are those between Beatrice (Willow Geer) and Benedick (Aaron Hendry), and Claudio (Kelvin Morales) and Hero (Audrey Forman), the first a couple that is playfully tricked into admitting their love for each other, the second a couple that is maliciously tricked into believing in one's infidelity to the other. The Beatrice/Benedick relationship is the one that audiences most often latch onto, in part because that is where most of the play's delightful humor lies. Willow Geer and Aaron Hendry deliver wonderful and often hilarious performances. Right from the start, Beatrice does a great job of showing her interest in Benedick while simultaneously expressing her distaste for him. And while she and Benedick speak center stage, Claudio and Hero clearly express love for each with looks from opposite ends of the stage. Claudio is quick to fall in love (and does so without any lines, not the easiest thing to get across), and is also later quick to believe the worst of his beloved, and shames her publicly. There are productions where Claudio is understandably not very likeable, but this Claudio is immediately endearing to us, which is important, so that we feel for him later. Both Kelvin Morales and Audrey Forman do remarkable jobs with roles that can sometimes feel secondary to the Beatrice and Benedick relationship. You might recall Kelvin Morales from his excellent work with the Independent Shakespeare Company (as Demetrius in 2023's Dream, as Malcolm in 2022's Macbeth, as Chiron in 2018's Titus Andronicus), and here he gives us a Claudio that we can't help but love. And we believe completely that he has fallen for Hero; we believe in love at first sight.
 
Of course it is the verbal sparring between Beatrice and Benedick that is the most enjoyable aspect of the play, and feels like the heart of the piece. Both characters love speaking, and appreciate others who also speak well, which is certainly part of their mutual attraction. Just listen to the way Benedick delivers the line "as being a professed tyrant to their sex," obviously taking great joy in his words. In their meaning, yes, but also in the words themselves. And that is a great deal of the joy for the audience as well. It is that, more than the physical comedy, that holds such appeal. Though, of course, there is plenty of wonderful physical comedy as well, particularly in the scenes where Benedick and Beatrice overhear their friends discussing how one loves the other. Benedick at first hides behind a plant at the gate, then, as he wants to better hear what is being said, moves the plant closer to the others. He then hides at the fountain, and even rolls off the stage in order to keep from being seen. The others watch all of his movements with delight. What is also wonderful about this scene is the way that Benedick turns to the audience at the end, his expression asking us to take his part before he delivers the line, "This can be no trick." His delivery of "will be horribly in love with her" is likewise hilarious. Beatrice, for her part, sneaks in from the woods off stage left, and is wonderful as she ducks down at the front of the stage. At one point, after unintentionally making a noise, she imitates the sound of a bird, just as Benedick had imitated a dog during his scene. Those little moments show that these two have more in common than they believe, a nice touch. Not only are Benedick and Beatrice excellent in their respective scenes, but those who are gulling them also excel here. Later, when Benedick says, "I am not as I have been," we hear the truth of those words in his delivery, the way his voice has changed. His voice changes again when he tells Beatrice, "I am engaged."

Gerald C. Rivers is fantastic as Dogberry, which probably comes as no surprise to anyone who saw him as Falstaff in The Merry Wives Of Windsor or Autolycus in last year's production of The Winter's Tale. He possesses a natural flair for comedy, and isn't just hilarious as Dogberry, but believable, his lines delivered with a certain dignity. It seems he even blushes when he says "If it pleases your worship to say so," pleased himself at being called tedious. Another of the production's strongest performances is that of Lynn Robert Berg as Don Pedro, here Major General Penn. His delivery of "Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband" is hilarious, the way he pauses before "unhopefullest," as if considering the most appropriate word to use there, and then choosing one that is barely a proper word at all. This is another role that does not often stand out, but Lynn Robert Berg does such a great job with it that the audience is drawn to him. When speaking to Don John, his delivery of "You know he does" shows that he knows his brother is not to be completely trusted. In that scene, he even grabs hold of Don John at one point. This is great because of course he should know his own brother, and it makes it all the harder on him when he learns that he's let his brother mislead him.

Claudio too is misled, and chooses to confront his bride in the ugliest, meanest way: at the altar on their wedding day, rather than before it, privately. Again, it's important that the audience truly likes Claudio early on, because otherwise this scene would be impossible for him to come back from. The reaction of Leonato (Tim Halligan) is excellent. Clearly he doesn't want to believe Claudio's accusation against his daughter, and we see the pain and sadness in his expression as it hits him that there might be truth in it. The Friar Francis of the text becomes Sister Frances (Shoshanna Green) in this production. For some reason, the advice offered by this character doesn't seem as believable coming from a nun as a priest, but then there is the added humor to her lines about concealing Hero in "some reclusive and religious life," since what she is suggesting is that Hero become a nun like her. Of course, it is all sorted out in the end. And these relationships - that between Beatrice and Benedick, and that between Claudio and Hero - give us some hope for the world at large, that problems can be worked out, that deception will be weeded out, that forgiveness is possible (though I do appreciate that Beatrice exhibits some remaining rancor toward Claudio at the end, as she forces him to his knees next to Hero). And there is the hope that everything will end with a dance.

This production of Much Ado About Nothing is directed by Ellen Geer, with costume design by A. Jeffrey Schoenberg, sound design by Lucas Fehring, and lighting design by Hayden Kirschbaum. There is one intermission, which comes at the end of Act III Scene ii. The play runs through September 13, 2025. Visit the theatre's website for the complete schedule. Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum is located at 1419 Topanga Canyon Blvd. in Topanga, California.

Shakespeare References in Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat

Michael Bond's Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat contains a few Shakespeare references. The first is a reference to The First Part Of King Henry The Fourth. Bond writes, "Discretion being the better part of valour, Monsieur Pamplemousse decided not to pursue the subject" (p. 58). That is a reference to Falstaff's line, "The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life." The next reference is to As You Like It, with Monsieur Pamplemousse reciting, "Blow, blow thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude" (p. 114). That comes from a song in Act II Scene vii. Bond continues: "It was one of only two English quotations he could remember from his school days" (p. 114). The person Monsieur Pamplemousse is speaking with doesn't catch the reference, and so Pamplemousse says, "Shakespeare" (p. 115). The other character responds: "Yeah? I might have known. That's the kind of thing he would say" (p. 115). Interestingly, the other Shakespeare reference is not actually a Shakespeare reference at all, but a mistake by the author. Bond writes: "He was in the act of bracing himself when he recalled the other Shakespearean quotation he had learned as a boy. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'" (p. 163). That is not, in fact, a Shakespearean quotation. The line comes from a William Congreve play from the late 1600s. Bond then writes: "Monsieur Pamplemousse felt sure that had he found himself in a similar situation, Shakespeare would have reached very much the same conclusion. He might even have dreamed up a suitable quotation as he put his boot through the door" (p. 163).

Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat was published in 1998.

Shakespeare Reference in Isaac Asimov Presents The Great SF Stories: 12 (1950)

Isaac Asimov Presents The Great SF Stories: 12 (1950) is, as its title tells us, a collection of science fiction stories from 1950. One of them, "The New Reality" by Charles L. Harness, contains a reference to Romeo And Juliet. Harness writes: "And why do you say the 'Einsteinian' universe? The universe by any other name is still the universe, isn't it" (p. 304). That is a reference to Juliet's speech from the balcony scene, where she says, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other word would smell as sweet." Many people quote the line as "By any other name," which is from the Q1 text, the bad quarto. This book was published in 1984.