A rather curious play.

It features a king who is extremely stubborn in the first half and extremely repentant in the other half, a far too deus ex machina ending, and one of the best stage directions in the history of theater (even though it's so famous, I'll still write about it just for the pleasure of putting it into words... He runs away being chased by a bear... it all lies in the execution).

The play begins quite tragically, filled with deaths and misfortunes brought about by pride and misunderstandings. The last two acts, on the contrary, contrast greatly with that image, with a buffoon making jokes about dildos, very typical deceptions from other Shakespearean comedies, and a happy ending. I suppose it's that kind of play that one either takes or leaves.

Overall, it's a work that combines elements of tragedy and comedy in an unexpected way, making it a unique and interesting piece in the theater canon.

Despite its flaws, such as the somewhat contrived ending, it still manages to engage the audience and leave a lasting impression.

Whether one loves it or hates it, there's no denying that it has its own charm and value.

Perhaps it's this very ambiguity that makes it so fascinating and worthy of study and discussion.

  When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that, move still, still so,
And own no other function.

After spending countless hours delving into the complex problem plays, the profound late tragedies, and the enchanting early romances, this play comes as a refreshing and sweet relief. Shakespeare truly returns to his glorious form with this delightful work. The play is an absolute joy to experience, boasting charming and winsome characters, a captivating pastoral romance, and a whimsical plot that keeps the audience engaged from start to finish.

I was particularly impressed by Shakespeare's masterful depiction of sexual jealousy in the beginning acts of the play. As Leontes' hysterical suspicion spirals out of control and transforms into a form of incurable madness, we witness the destructive power of jealousy. Here, we can clearly see how jealousy, once it takes hold, can operate on the same warped logic as a conspiracy theory. The slightest shred of supporting evidence is seized upon, while everything contrary is conveniently ignored or dismissed as a lie.

The enormous scene four of the fourth act is truly a jewel in the crown of this play. Seldom has Shakespeare managed to portray young love with such authenticity and convincingness. And, of course, the thief and song-peddlar Autolyclus is a source of endless comic delight. For me personally, the seacoast of Bohemia and the living statue only serve to enhance the many charms of this remarkable work. It is a play that will leave a lasting impression on anyone who has the pleasure of experiencing it.

One of Shakespeare's last four plays, this work is typically classified under Romance in the more contemporary anthologies. However, it could just as plausibly be filed under a chaotic mess.

There is an underlying logic to this bifurcated tale, yet I'm not entirely convinced. It is a sharply divided tragi-comedy. The first three acts present a compressed tragedy of Leontes, who takes insanely jealous to a whole new level. It is rushed, and despite suggestions that Leontes' masculine insecurities have been festering for years, the extremity of his reaction to an affair that exists only in his mind is difficult to reconcile. So, things go horribly wrong (yes, I was also surprised). Then comes a bear attack.

After that, Father Time literally steps onto the stage before Act IV to announce, "And then sixteen years pass. Poof!"接着是波希米亚一场喧闹的剪羊毛活动。 Then a statue of Leontes' long-dead wife comes to life on stage. And finally, everyone gets married. And each shift is that jarring. The bear attack especially felt like the first time you see fangs in From Dusk Til Dawn - completely unexpected.

Certainly, there is enough here to make me eager to reread it. But for now, I find myself doubting those who claim this as one of Shakespeare's greatest triumphs because he made so many improbable elements work. So far, after one admittedly quick read, it doesn't seem to be working for me.

The title of this play, which implies something介于old wives' tale and fairy tale and romance (in the older sense), indicates that Shakespeare was fully cognizant of the preposterous and silly nature of the material. Arguably, the setting of "the coast of Bohemia" is yet another nod to this. The term was a proverbial error used ironically - and if you're not Ben Jonson, you probably assume Shakespeare was well enough educated to know that Bohemia was land-locked.

Despite, therefore, the folly of taking the play too seriously, it still doesn't seem to function very effectively. The transition from a tragic to a comedic tone doesn't work as well as the reverse, as illustrated by Romeo and Juliet. The resurrection in the statue scene is irritating - leaving some tragedy would have been more suitable, and the lack of any explanation for how it could have occurred is irksome. Perhaps one is meant to view the whole thing ironically, like the Scream movies? I believe maybe someone should adopt this approach in a production.

The equally daft Pericles seems to work better, and I think it's because it is much more consistent in tone - it's simply silly and jolly throughout.

The wonder of this work which really lacks nothing!

The repulsion to the injustice that the tragedy arouses, the smile of the typical farces of the comedy (even the rascal who turns out to have a good part in the adventures of ours!), the emotion of a design that is fulfilled.

This work is truly a masterpiece that combines the power of tragedy and the lightness of comedy. It makes us feel a wide range of emotions, from the anger at the injustice to the joy of the humorous moments.

The characters are vivid and the plot is engaging, keeping us hooked from beginning to end.

Highly recommended!

Here's my professor's study question for this play: Would you suggest that Leontes’s problem has to do with jealousy, or is it something much worse?

Honestly, I think if it's something worse than jealousy, it's just even more stupid.

Truly, this is the strangest Shakespeare play I've read (and I've read quite a few). Act 1 scene 2 already made me want to pull my hair out because of the unnecessary and unconvincing wordiness. King Leontes must top the list of most annoying and senseless characters. Then there's the bear, which seems to come out of nowhere. Then there are some unexplained gratuitous deaths of minor characters. And finally, the statue. I know this play means to present the topsy-turvy nature of the world, especially on the stage where someone as a narrator controls the story. But Shakespeare represents that too in Twelfth Night and somewhat in other plays, and they're so much more enjoyable, tasteful, and thoughtful than The Winter's Tale. And I have still yet to find an ending in a Shakespeare play that I really like, that gives a good closure to the rest of the play, but this one is much worse because it's so anti-climactic.

I just can't seem to get into this play like I have with others. Maybe I'm missing something, but right now, it's just not doing it for me.

A winter of the heart descends upon a weak-minded king, setting in motion a sequence of potentially tragic events that unfold against a fantastical background. Such is the tableau that unfolds for the reader in William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale.

The Winter's Tale was composed late in Shakespeare’s career, probably around 1610 or 1611, shortly before his retirement from the London stage. It is a prime example of the plays known as Shakespeare's “romances.” These later works, like The Tempest and Cymbeline, don't neatly fit into categories like comedy, tragedy, or history, as many of his earlier plays did. Instead, they take place in a dreamlike landscape, designed to evoke a mystical, otherworldly feel.

With Shakespeare’s theatre company enjoying the official patronage of King James I, now known as the “King’s Men,” they had the resources to create elaborate stage sets. This would have enhanced the audience’s sense of entering a fantasy world distinct from their harsh, everyday lives.

The plot has a dreamlike and illogical quality suitable for the fantasy genre. It's a rather grim story; as the young prince Mamillius of Sicilia says, “A sad tale's best for winter.” Leontes, King of Sicilia, welcomes his boyhood friend Polixenes, King of Bohemia, on a state visit. When Hermione, Leontes' wife, helps persuade Polixenes to extend his stay, Leontes suddenly and unjustly suspects her of having an affair with Polixenes.

Just like in Shakespeare’s earlier tragedy Othello, jealousy brings the threat of violence. Camillo, a lord of Sicilia, is ordered by Leontes to kill Polixenes but disobeys and warns him. Aware of the danger, Polixenes, who is often philosophical, leaves immediately for Bohemia, and Camillo joins him, willingly going into exile.

The plot becomes more complex. When Leontes says, “I am a feather for each wind that blows,” he speaks truer than he realizes; he is at the mercy of his turbulent emotions, causing misery in his kingdom. Nothing seems to stop his irrational jealousy until a sudden change of heart occurs in a dramatic courtroom scene.

By the time Leontes sees the error of his ways, it seems all will end unhappily. But this is a romance, and things can change suddenly. There's a case of thwarted love in Bohemia between the Bohemian prince Florizel and the Sicilian princess Perdita, a modest shepherdess raised in exile. The lovesick Florizel tells Perdita, “When you do dance, I wish you/A wave of the sea, that you might ever do/Nothing but that.” Complications from this love lead to a second flight into exile, this time from Bohemia to Sicilia, where (almost) everything that went wrong will be made right.

If I had the chance and the production budget, this is how I would film The Winter's Tale. The setting would have a Cold War look. For the first three acts, I'd use the grainy, color-desaturated style of Walter Cronkite's late-1960's CBS news broadcasts. For Acts IV and V, after sixteen years have passed, I'd use the video style seen on CNN news broadcasts from the early 1980's, with rich color saturation and deep reds. Leontes' palace in Sicilia would resemble the White House, with kings and courtiers in expensive suits and power ties. The seaport in Sicilia would become Dulles Airport, with Saarinen's swept-wing design. The court of justice in Sicilia would look like the U.S. Supreme Court.

In contrast, the palace of Polixenes in Bohemia would have a Kremlin-esque appearance. There would be Cyrillic lettering everywhere, and Bohemia could be the Union of Bohemian Socialist Republics. Red banners would be随处可见, “socialist realism” art at every turn, and “The Internationale” playing constantly over loudspeakers. (It's in Bohemia, in Act III Scene III, that we see Shakespeare's famous stage direction for the actor playing Antigonus to “Exit, pursued by a bear.”) This would be a fun way to emphasize the play's movement from West to East and back again.

As always, Shakespeare had his eyes on all sectors of his audience. The wealthy in the gallery would enjoy the intrigue of the two royal courts, while the “groundlings” would have a great time with the misadventures of the rogue Autolycus, who unashamedly calls himself “a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.”

The Winter's Tale may not be among Shakespeare's greatest plays, but it's fun, energetic, and interesting. And, of course, there's the poetry. Shakespeare's poetic language is truly incomparable.

I really hate to praise an old white man, but this was truly, truly entertaining!

It was like a breath of fresh air in a rather mundane world. The way he presented himself, his charisma, and his unique style just had me hooked from the very beginning.

His stories were engaging, filled with humor and interesting anecdotes that kept me on the edge of my seat. I found myself laughing out loud at times, completely forgetting about my initial reluctance to give him any credit.

As I listened to him, I couldn't help but be impressed by his knowledge and experience. He had a way of making even the most complex topics seem simple and understandable.

In the end, I have to admit that I was thoroughly entertained and I'm glad I gave him a chance. Maybe I should be more open-minded in the future and not judge a book by its cover.

Mad kings and men pursued by bears,

What a wild and thrilling scene it appears.

Hail the bard, the bringer of such goodies,

Who weaves tales that leave us in a flurry of moodies.

His words paint pictures that come to life,

Taking us on adventures filled with strife.

We follow the mad king's erratic ways,

And watch as the men flee from the bear's gaze.

The bard's stories are like a magical spell,

Transporting us to a world where all is well,

Or perhaps not, for there is always some peril,

But that's what makes the bard's work so sterile.

So let us raise a toast to the bard,

For giving us such wonderful things to regard.

His tales will live on forevermore,

In the hearts and minds of those who adore.

A sad tale's best for winter. This play is an incredible potpourri of comedy, tragedy, and fantasy that once again defies categorization. It展现出了dramatic realism in the form of an obsessively jealous king, similar to Othello. The complex relationships between parents and children, like in King Lear or Hamlet, are also present. There is a mystical resonance in Greek legends that contemplate sculptures turning into human beings, reminiscent of the Christian concept of resurrection. Additionally, the lush, floral poetry evokes the romanticism of classic pastorals. All these seemingly discordant features, which would usually create a muddled hotchpotch, converge into an exuberant tale in the hands of the Bard.

Hermione and Paulina have joined the list of my favorite female characters by Shakespeare. Paulina, in particular, speaks her mind in front of the king and remains loyal to the queen, even when unjustly punished by a brief appearance of an exotic bear in Act 3. Perdita, like Miranda in "The Tempest", is presented as a beautiful maiden of marriageable age, but she is surrounded by a sensuous aura that charms and bewitches the reader with the musical cadence of her soliloquies.

Leaving aside the supernatural elements and the less cohesive presentation in terms of action, time, or location, Shakespeare appeals to the redeeming power of virtue and repentance. He shows that there is a second opportunity to mend past mistakes, elevating art and love to cathartic forces that can perform miracles. The lost can be found again and given a warm embrace back home, even in the coldest of winters.

“What’s gone, and what’s past help,
Should be past grief.”

This is a captivating story of male friendship. We have Leontes, the king of Sicily, and Polixenes, the king of Bohemia, deeply indulging in their fondness for each other. From the very beginning, we witness how these two friends socialize and relish the joys of being together. Even though they both have wives (albeit Polixenes is visiting Leontes without his queen), it is still a rather unusual friendship. For example, they are both kings, yet Polixenes has the luxury of spending nine months with Leontes. Conventionally, it might have seemed more logical if he were actually in love with Leontes' queen, Hermione. But that is not the case; he is in Sicily solely because of Leontes. Their bond is truly unique, founded on loyalty, concern, and tenderness for each other.

Clearly, in those times, it must have been extremely challenging for men, especially noblemen and even more so for kings, to love other men in the same way they could have numerous women. However, there must have been a way, there must have been spaces where homosexual urges could find nourishment. This is not to imply that the kings in the play are sexually involved, but rather to suggest that their friendship has a distinct flavor of same-sex love.

After spending nine months together, Polixenes desires to return to his kingdom. (Such a lengthy stay for a king was already quite odd. One could have understood such a carefree and extended sojourn if they were both poets, or at least one of them was). One wonders how Polixenes could stay with Leontes for such a long time. Who was looking after his kingdom and his queen?

Now, when he wants to leave, Leontes is reluctant to let him go. As if being a king, having a wonderful queen like Hermione, and all the pleasures that come with it are not sufficient for Leontes. It seems as if his life would be diminished upon his friend's departure. Even after having him for so long, Leontes is not satisfied. He begs Polixenes to extend his stay, and these pleadings are those of a lover. When his pleas do not succeed, Leontes involves his wife and asks her to intervene and implore Polixenes to prolong his stay. This tactic works, but ultimately, it has severe consequences. Leontes becomes suspicious and wonders why Polixenes so readily agreed to stay at the queen's request while ignoring his own.

These strange thoughts, tinged with jealousy, once again reveal the dynamics of his relationship with Polixenes. He becomes furious, less like a friend and more like a spurned lover whose love interest has somehow abandoned him by yielding to the entreaties of Hermione, something that has been withheld from him. In reality, Polixenes might have been swayed by the queen's request to stay, as if her asking validates, in some fundamental way, his friendship with Leontes. (Sadly, such a possibility never occurred to Leontes. In his passion and blinded involvement, he could not see it).

However, once the jealousy and doubt surface, they completely cloud Leontes' mind, and he commits atrocities of the most ignoble kind. But the play ultimately ends happily. The unmistakable hints of same-sex love (if not an outright homosexual relationship) that we observe in the first few acts are finally subsumed in the final act. The princess meets her prince, the king meets his queen, and somewhere in the background, 'a male friendship' is restored. In other words, the straight narrative asserts itself in the final act and takes center stage, while the unruly male friendship is pushed to the margins.

I find this particular Shakespeare play to be one of the more challenging ones to follow. The language and the complex plot can sometimes make it a bit of a struggle. However, despite its difficulties, it is still highly enjoyable. The story unfolds in a way that keeps you engaged from start to finish. And let's not forget that little twist toward the end. It's truly a gem that everyone seems to love. It adds an element of surprise and excitement that makes the play even more memorable. Whether you're a die-hard Shakespeare fan or just someone who enjoys a good story, this play is definitely worth checking out.