Getting better slowly

The three Lavin girls, Gracie, making her move; Sarah, watching; and Katie, pondering her response. How they are growing! I wish I could spend more time with them. I think they will remember the many happy occasions we have shared.


Dear Friends and Family,

The cough is still with me and the ribs hurt a lot, but there is no doubt that the flu has run its course. I have returned to my work, very slowly, limpingly even, but at least it is a start. For the website, I am trying to craft the essay on the sentinels, who play an interesting combination of roles that are vitally important and yet minor. To me, the way Shakespeare handles Francisco, Barnardo, and Marcellus in the first act proves that he was a man of the theater. He demonstrates his care for the egos of his actors at every step. It's doubtful that someone not of the theater would know about such things. Francisco has fewer than 15 lines, yet he is made so vivid that for one minor actor who undertook his role it was a career maker—because of the feeling way he said "For this relief much thanks, tis bitter cold and I am sick at heart." Each of the three men is differentiated by his speech. Also, Shakespeare hints at but does not seem to pay much attention to status. He also does not seem terribly concerned with the naming of characters; perhaps a better educated author would be more careful about the names he gives characters, not only in this play but in many others.

It's very possible that the sentinels doubled in other roles throughout the play, whether minor or major. It’s a fun game to consider which of them could have played such roles as the ghost (wouldn't it be a coup de théâtre to have the uneasy Francisco return as the ghost later in the scene?), the gravedigger, various ambassadors, or just attendant lords to swell a court scene.

More people are planning to come to my April 12 talk. Jeffery Triggs, our fantastic web master and his beautiful wife, Sara; our dear friend Jesús; my neighbor Florence, and people from the CSS, I hope. What nerve I have—what hope—to plan such an event. But I can visualize myself resting in our apartment, then walking across Bryant Park to the NYPL entrance on 42nd Street, and then into the building to the wonderful venue for the talk at 1:15 p.m. Everyone seated in the audience will have a computer, so they will be able to see what I am demonstrating on a screen at the front. Once the talk is over, in about an hour, I can return to the apartment and rest. So it seems do-able to me. One of my main jobs is making sure that I can access everything in the computer smoothly and easily. Everything has to go without a hitch because what I am trying to demonstrate above all is how useful the site can be to anyone who wants to know anything about Hamlet.

My dear colleague and co-editor, Nick, who teaches at SMC and has had his students present the site in class, is going to send me some of their materials, for which I will credit him and them.

On other fronts, there are a few editorial changes to deal with in the Focus Measure for Measure edition. But best of all to look forward to, I learned just yesterday that my "Hamlet at Sea" essay will be in the summer issue of SQ. Sometime before then, the editorial staff will ask me for clarifications, changes, illustrations, etc. The essay will appear with a couple of others on the play. I have high hope for the continuation of my scholarly life as long as possible.

And family and friends continue to be of the utmost importance. What a rich life! Even if I cannot look forward to travel, marathon races, spin classes, and all the attendant joys of life that live in memory, I am grateful for what I have.

A bright cold snowy day!

Love to all,
Bernice