“Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.” This profound statement holds a certain truth for many of us. There is indeed a hope that as we age, we will grow wiser. In most cases, this progression occurs, but sometimes, unfortunately, we trade naivete for senility, with only a brief span of graceful wisdom in between.

King Lear's decision to divide his kingdom among his three daughters seems magnanimous at first glance. However, when considering the typical human behavior in the face of a power vacuum, it proves to be a very foolish choice. His Fool points out the situation quite clearly, and when the Fool is calling the king a fool, perhaps Lear should have paused to reflect on his actions. It's possible that Lear felt the gears of his mind slipping, believing he was doing his kingdom a favor by stepping down in favor of his youthful progeny. He likely envisioned a more idyllic life, filled with riding, hunting, joking, eating, and enjoying the company of his 100 knights.

From the very beginning of the play, there is a complication. Cordelia, his youngest and most beloved daughter, does not give him the reassuring answers he desires. In a fit of madness, he banishes her. Meanwhile, his two older daughters, Goneril and Regan, are more astute in their declarations of love and devotion, telling their father what they know he wants to hear. Initially, despite the sisters' obvious duplicity compared to Cordelia's honesty, I find myself sympathizing with them. It's clear that they, too, have endured the increasingly unpredictable madness of King Lear.

The theme of the play revolves around madness and blindness, two closely related afflictions. Lear may have first succumbed to madness, but his blindness to Cordelia's true devotion sets off a chain of horrific events that can only be rectified if he regains his sanity. He is not alone in his blindness. The Earl of Gloucester is equally blind in his assessment of his two sons, Edgar and Edmund. Edgar is the dutiful son, while Edmund, the bastard, is consumed by resentment and naked ambition. If not for the trustful natures of his father and brother, Edmund would not have been able to undermine and destroy them.

My sympathy for Goneril and Regan quickly fades as Edmund, through his deception and aspirations, drives a wedge between the sisters, shattering the loyalty that I once found so admirable. What makes this play so brilliant is the way my sympathies shift as the plot unfolds. What I once believed turns out to be untrue, and the characters prove to be unreliable, to the point where some are even disguising their identities. The most genuine characters are often the most reviled. This play is a tragedy, and as the events spiral out of control, Lear's madness seems to infect everyone. While we could blame Lear, it is really his eroded wisdom, corrupted by madness, that leads to such dreadful devastation in the kingdom.

I paired reading this play with watching the 2018 Anthony Hopkins's King Lear, which is set in a more modern society, similar to Ian McKellen's excellent version of Richard III (1995). This adaptation, available on Amazon Prime, features an all-star cast, including Emma Thompson, Emily Watson, Jim Broadbent, Tobias Menzies, and Florence Pugh, whom I adored in Lady Macbeth. This role likely gave her the opportunity to work with these Hollywood greats in this movie.

“The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much nor live so long.”

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”A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!”

I had seemingly forgotten just how truly tragic this play is. Each and every time I pick it up and read it, it feels as if a vice is tightening around my heart. Poor Lear, who once held such power and now finds himself at the mercy of his ungrateful daughters. And Gloucester, who suffers such a cruel fate at the hands of those he thought he could trust. Cordelia, too, is a victim of the betrayals, manipulation, and politics that swirl around them all. There is so much depth and complexity to unpack within the story. The betrayals cut deep, the manipulation is devious, and the politics are a web of deceit. It is a play that truly makes one think and feel, and is most definitely well worth the read for anyone who appreciates a powerful and moving story.

The key to maximizing the effect of Shakespeare, I’ve discovered, is to speak his words aloud.

There is a dimension to his genius that is only comprehensible when you hear his locution. The mere act of reading Shakespeare silently, to oneself, seems a missed opportunity and, let’s be honest, a sacrilege.

Of course, this is problematic if you are accustomed to reading while commuting via public transportation. Nothing clears out a bus or a train faster than a passenger declaring, “The prince of darkness is a gentleman!”

However, we should not let this minor inconvenience deter us from experiencing the true beauty of Shakespeare's works. We can find other suitable places and times to speak his words aloud. For example, we can do it in the privacy of our own homes, or in a quiet park.

By speaking Shakespeare's words aloud, we can better understand the rhythm, the meter, and the cadence of his language. We can also feel the emotions and the passion that he intended to convey. It is like bringing his characters to life and experiencing their stories firsthand.

In conclusion, if we want to fully appreciate the genius of Shakespeare, we must speak his words aloud. It may seem a bit odd at first, but once we get used to it, we will discover a whole new world of literary beauty.

We must endure the burden of our wretched era:

Our words should not impose a debt, but a deposit of the soul.

Our ancestors had worse trials. And we, who now live,

Will neither reach their years nor see as many things.

Shocking work. The third and best that I have read of Shakespeare, after Hamlet and Macbeth. A worthy descendant of the three ancient Greek tragedians. I have nothing more specific to say, every phrase is a lesson.

This piece of writing beautifully captures the essence of the challenges and wisdom of different eras. It highlights the importance of using our words with care and authenticity, as they can be a deposit of our inner selves rather than a mere obligation. The comparison with our ancestors' trials serves as a reminder that we may not have faced the same level of hardships, yet we still have much to learn from their experiences. The mention of Shakespeare's works adds a touch of literary grandeur, emphasizing the timeless nature of such profound insights. Overall, this text offers a thought-provoking reflection on life, language, and the passage of time.

My first encounter with Shakespeare has been an absolute revelation. I had heard of his indisputable grandeur, but I never expected to be so deeply immersed in the complex and vivid portrayal of human nature in his tragedies. Even with my inexpensive Wordsworth edition, which lacked extensive annotations and academic essays, the universality of Shakespeare's art shone through. His use of versed polyptotons, playful aphorisms, and grotesque imagery makes his work impossible to categorize. It is always elusive and open to countless interpretations, leaving the reader with questions about the meaning of life.

The opening scene of King Lear, where the old king exchanges land for the love declarations of his three daughters, sets off a chain of events that combines humorous absurdity, demented remorse, and virulent wrath, leading to a tragic climax. The Duke of Gloucester, blind to the truth when his eyes seem to see clearly, is cheated by his bastard son Edmund and accuses his legitimate offspring Edgar of conspiracy. Two fathers in the autumn of their lives misjudge their children, act impulsively, and pay a heavy price for their pride. One loses his sight, the other his sanity, but both are guided by faithful servants through the desolate heath.
The play is rich in religious references, Greek mythology, and misogynistic diatribe, yet its setting and aim remain ambiguous. Critics may agree on its Pre-Christian British setting, but there is doubt regarding its moral purpose. However, whether Shakespeare confirmed or subverted the idea of a providential order is secondary to me. The power of this play lies in the ongoing paradoxes that exist within all the characters, as in human nature. They all display a tendency towards extreme cruelty, envy, and greed, yet also have a great capacity for forgiveness, repentance, and love.
The questions raised by the play are profound. How can divine justice coexist with the randomness of nature that punishes the innocent? Is the blind or deranged man the Fool or the Sage? Shakespeare's response is clear: love is what keeps us going. Without love, life would be meaningless. But love does not eliminate vileness, indifference, or sorrow. We are all "forked animals" trapped in a fabricated reality, trying to swim against the currents of existence. Yet, there is still hope, as with Shakespeare, everything is possible. We can live, pray, sing, tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

Shining

Regarding the translation
Unfortunately, the translation had several strange and absurd mistakes. I didn't expect such mistakes from Mahmoud Atmadzadeh. (Of course, there is a possibility that since they were translating from French, these oddities existed in the French text). In any case, the touching dialogues of the character that, in my opinion, were unique had been lost in this translation. My advice to friends is that they must read the touching dialogues from the original text. And since the dialogues of this character are very complex and full of metaphors and allusions, they should refer to websites (such as litcharts) that analyze the play's dialogues and rewrite them in modern words.

This way, they can better understand the true essence and beauty of the dialogues. It is important to note that translations may sometimes fail to capture the full nuances and emotions of the original work. Therefore, it is always beneficial to explore multiple sources and interpretations to gain a more comprehensive understanding.

Additionally, by referring to websites that provide in-depth analysis and modern rewritings, readers can bridge the gap between the original text and their own contemporary understanding. This can enhance their appreciation and enjoyment of the literary work.

I started reading this classic somewhat by chance, as Shakespeare always gives me a bit of laziness. The reason was the reading of Heredarás la tierra by Jane Smiley, in which the author aims to make a feminist review of King Lear, as she explains in this interview: https://elpais.com/diario/1996/07/15/...

It is a trend among current writers to look back at Shakespeare's work, as the author says: ‘Shakespeare is the beginning of the modern era, he defines it. And now that it ends, many look for him to be aware of who they are and try to imagine the future.’

Well, I started reading King Lear as a kind of cultural duty, but after a few pages, the way Gloucester talks about his bastard son Edmund suddenly woke me up:

Although this rascal came into the world untimely and lasciviously before he was called, it must be said that his mother was kind, I did a lot of exercise in begetting him and the son of a bitch deserves to be recognized.

But, William, uncle!! At three pages I was already hooked, the characters jumped out of the Kindle and grabbed me by the neck, violence, sex, tragedy… in short, Shakespeare in its purest form.

The plot is well known: a king decides to divide his kingdom among his three daughters, so that they and their husbands take on the responsibilities of government and provide him with a comfortable life in his old age. Goneril and Regan, the two eldest, hypocritically flatter him until they get power and then turn their backs on him. On the other hand, the youngest daughter, Cordelia, is the symbol of pure filial love, which is known by deeds and not by words.

Well, along with this, there are exiles, reconciliations, disguises, jesters, songs, illicit loves, cruel mutilations, war… I have to say that in some parts I got a bit lost with so many comings and goings, it is theater and therefore better seen than read. But it has been an impressive experience, along with The Tempest, which I read not long ago – also as a result of another contemporary reading. And I propose for the umpteenth time to read all the works – or at least the main ones – of Shakespeare, as it is the only way to understand subsequent literature.

Ah! And better in a bilingual edition to fully enjoy fragments like:

Sunshine and rain at once, her smiles and tears were like a better way. Como lluvia con sol, así eran sus sonrisas y lágrimas, aún más hermosas.

"How sharper than a serpent's (snake's) tooth it is to have a thankless child." This powerful line sets the stage for the tragic tale of King Lear. Good King Lear, once feared in his younger days, rules in pagan Britain where the inhabitants worship numerous gods. Hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, the ancient ruler, now in his eighties, can no longer govern well. His stamina is fading, and his mind is deteriorating quickly. With no sons but three devoted daughters, he decides to divide the kingdom equally between them. But first, the widower monarch needs to hear how much his daughters love him.

Goneril, the oldest, married to the weak duke of Albany, is a vile, mean, jealous, and immoral woman. Her sister Regan, just as bad, is the wife of the cruel duke of Cornwall. They could be twins emotionally but hate each other passionately, as only sisters can. Their husbands are mere puppets in their endless conspiracies for absolute power. Goneril and Regan shower the gullible king with untrue platitudes of endearment. Lovely Cordelia, the youngest, unmarried but with many suitors, says she loves her father as a daughter should. However, the puzzled and quite angry Lear misconstrues these mild remarks and banishes his child. She receives no land either, for the former favorite. But before that, Lear gives Cordelia to the sympathetic king of France as his bride. He admires her nobility, even without a dowry.

The Earl of Kent protests vehemently, being the sovereign's biggest supporter. But he too is told to leave Britain at once or be executed. The poor, oblivious man has given away all power and benefits to his unworthy children and is no longer "Every inch a king." Kent risks his life by staying in England, disguising himself as Caius to help the feeble friend Lear. He becomes his loyal servant, protecting the confused and mad king from his evil, rival daughters and many insults. Lear regrets his unwise gifts to them. Meanwhile, the very cold, scheming, and ambitious bastard son Edmund of the too trusting nobleman, the Earl of Gloucester, feels he deserves all the glory, wealth, and titles that his older brother, the virtuous but naive Edgar, will inherit someday. Nothing is beneath him. He uses lies and deceit, gets more elaborate, makes love to Goneril and Regan, and maneuvers forward to accomplish his desires and contemptible goals.

In real life, there are no happy endings. People live, do good things or bad, and then die. The next generation repeats this eternal pattern until the final rays of the Sun shine for the last time, and the darkness swallows the world. This play by Shakespeare is one of the finest ever written. It shows why the author was and is still the greatest writer to put down his ideas on paper.

After avoiding reading Shakespearean tragedies for years, I finally gathered the courage to pick up King Lear. My aversion to Shakespearean tragedies can be traced back to when I was about eight years old and watched a performance of Julius Caesar. The sight of so much violence had a profound and negative impact on my young mind. I was so scared that I avoided reading or watching Shakespeare's tragedies ever since. It was only more than thirty years later that I summoned the courage to face them.

King Lear is a tragic tale that revolves around Lear's vanity and his inability to see through deception and flattery. When powerful men are ruled by vanity and passion, they often seal their own fates. This is precisely what happens to King Lear. However, the tragedy doesn't end there. Lear's youngest and most beloved daughter, Cordelia, also pays a heavy price for his foolish pride. Cordelia serves as an example of how innocence and goodness often fall victim and don't always prevail. Sadly, this seems to be a harsh truth.

I won't pretend that reading the play was an easy task. I was indignant on behalf of the innocent characters. While I was glad to see the villains getting their just deserts, my heart ached for Cordelia and Lear. Overall, despite my mixed and conflicting emotions, I found myself enjoying the play. Reading King Lear alleviated my doubts about how I would respond to Shakespearean tragedies. I now know that I'm capable of appreciating them, even when I don't necessarily enjoy them. Still, my heart cautions me to approach them with care.

Maybe it's the fifteenth time I've read Lear (this time in the tiny red-leather RSC edition, during my morning walks). It always leaves a deep impression on me, especially with its powerful curses and curse-like screeds. I simply can't bear to watch Lear onstage, particularly the scene of the blinding of Gloster (spelled that way in this edition). "How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is / to have a thankless child" - but having a thankless parent like Lear in Act I Sc I isn't so great either. Thankless Goneril assesses her dad just as we might assess the US president, saying, "The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look to receive from his age, not alone the imperfections of long-ingrafted condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them."

I truly love the Russian film Lear with music by Shostakovich, and the King's grand journey through his bestiary of hawks and eagles.

I suppose this is Shakespeare's great exploration of homelessness. The undeservedly roofless. "Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, / That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, / How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides... defend you / From seasons such as this?" Lear asks, and then reflects, "O, I have ta'en too little care of this!" (3.4.25ff). In my reading in '14, I found a remarkable prediction of a Pawtucket, RI, beggar near the best Mexican restaurant. Edgar, as he dirties himself to disguise, notes the roaring Bedlam beggars who mortify their bare arms with "Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary... enforce their charity" (2.3.15ff). The Pawtucket beggar took a lighted match and opened a sore on his arm. I didn't give, and I didn't go back to the great restaurant.

Shakespeare even anticipates Marx (not Groucho) when he has the blinded Gloster say, "So distribution should undo excess, / And each man have enough..." (4.1). He is speaking to his disguised son-madman. In fact, social justice is a prominent theme throughout this play, as prominent as in Measure for Measure.

Lear is also his only play on retirement, which he seemingly recommends against. Or perhaps Lear should have had a condo in Florida? Of course, his hundred knights would have been a problem for the condominium board, just as they were for his daughters. And Shakespeare, who said in a sonnet he was "lame by fortune's despite," also addresses the handicapped here, recommending tripping blind persons to cheer them up.

Of course, Lear has his personal Letterman-Colbert, the Fool, so he doesn't need a TV during the electrical storm on the heath. That's fortunate because it would have been dangerous to turn on a TV with all that lightning. The play also seems to recommend serious disguises like Kent's dialects and Edgar's mud. Next time I go to a party, I'll think about some mud, which reduces Edgar's likelihood of being killed by his former friends.

And finally, the play touches on senility, where Lear can't be sure at first that Cordelia is his daughter.

I'm not sure, but the author may be suggesting senility as a palliative to tragedy - and to aging. A friend of mine once put it, "Who's to say the senile's not having the time of his life?"

I've been deeply immersed in Shakespeare's plays over the past few months, not only reading them intently but also seizing every opportunity to watch their performances. Reading them in such close succession, I simply can't refrain from comparing and ranking them in my mind. This particular play wasn't my absolute favorite, yet it still held a relatively high position. It lacked the remarkable language of Hamlet, the lighthearted frivolity of A Midsummer Night's Dream, the passionate love and beautiful poetry of Romeo and Juliet, or the intense and heart-stopping drama of Othello. Granted, it did possess action and tragedy, and at times, quite a substantial amount. However, for me, that wasn't its strongest suit. Instead, it had several wonderful quiet moments that delved into family relationships, explored the implications of aging and senility, and touched upon the themes of forgiveness and redemption. It might very well be one of the saddest plays ever penned, and considering that Shakespeare is the author who crafted some of the greatest tragedies the world has ever witnessed, achieving such a feat is truly remarkable.

This took me a month to read.

I was interpreting the story without the help of a professor or any previous knowledge of the plot. But wow, was this journey fantastic.

Shakespeare continues to impress me with his ability to craft such a compelling story. His play on words is truly unparalleled.

What a masterclass writer he is and what a tragedy this is.

All these characters had to do was apologize. But sometimes an ego is more stubborn than a mountain.

It's amazing how Shakespeare can bring these complex characters to life and make us feel so deeply for them.

Their flaws and mistakes lead to their downfall, and it's both tragic and fascinating to watch.

Even after all these years, Shakespeare's works still have the power to move and inspire us.

His plays are a testament to his genius and will continue to be studied and loved for generations to come.