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An Allegory of Sorts · Shakespeare Short Story ·
Organised by GroaningGreyAgony
Word limit 100–8000
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Hathaway
Agnes Shagspere centrally stuck frustrated in shadows of history
Either forgotten or scorned for another woman in other men's eyes
And instead the Annas and Ophelias and Juliets take over her mystery
While the Whateley is confused for Hathaway even after she died

Those who thought the bard didn't love her one bit
For they saw he wed her with child somewhat full soon there
And assume the mater was forced at the end of a tip
They continued together for some time after he retired from theater

While alive they had children, ups and downs, and their share of frowns
He gave her his second-best bed with the furniture after he died
Because she was the best bed who he stood aground
She was loved and not because she was a despised bride

When her time on the hard earth came to an end
Honest, little do I know about her and her home though
Agnes Shagspere was buried next to the spoony bard
With words these more elegant than this I this humble 'tard

Could ever write on her gravestone this small shard
"Of Breasts, O mother, milk and life thou didst give.”
For she wasn't hated away in the moldy stinky hay
But saved their and our souls to this glorious day
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#1 · 1
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I think I should preface this review of mine by saying I'm not exactly a poet at heart. Many of the opinions I have about this kinda stem from a mix of theatre history⁠—what little of it I can recall from my lectures anyway⁠—along with some techniques I've picked up from acting class, so don't just take my word as gospel. Get a second opinion, preferably from someone with more knowledge in verse than I am like Pascoite or GGA. Those are the two I can name off the top of my head, though I'm sure there's more.

So here we have a quatrain. Simple and rather straightforward until one gets a closer look, though that can come later. I think most of my issues of immersion with this particular entry is really the subject matter at the core of this story, which is about Shakespeare's wife. It's a pretty meta approach to talk about her in verse but sadly it's not the only meta entry this round so yeah. A lot of the references are a little lost to me though, and if it weren't for Google they would probably still be that way. Nonetheless, I think it's a nice way to approach it. Definitely creative despite its flaws. With how it's handled, however, that means a lot of what would change my experience with this entry is really the execution of the verse itself.

So how was it? A bit dull, if you ask me.

The structure starts to get in the way of things after subsequent reads. It's fine with the four-line-per-stanza approach that it currently is. The way the line endings are utilised is pretty neat too on occasion. My issue's really with the minor details that kinda hampered my experience, from the mismatched syllable count to the flippant switching between various rhyming schemes. All the technical stuff is definitely out of my league⁠—again, second opinions are much appreciated⁠—but there's something else that I'm picking up that could probably pinpoint why I don't enjoy this in the first place.

Whenever I'm reading this, I'm reading this aloud. I'm doing that to basically try and see if I could capture the subtext of this entry. It's fine if you're not thinking about it⁠; this isn't something writers are fully aware of when they're writing, though being aware of it can certainly help in all forms of writing, even in non-fiction mediums. Nevertheless, I couldn't really get a satisfying read from it because looking at the way this story tells us about Shakespeare's wife, it feels like it's just informing us about the circumstances of their relationship and not doing much else. It's not attempting to convince me that Shakespeare's love for her is genuine. It's not protesting the fact that so little knew about who Shakespeare's wife was. It's just telling us a loose chain of events that happened. As if it was a precursor to something more substantial.

Frankly, I don't think such a passive approach works with the format, or at least I don't think I enjoy a poem (or anything else, really) that tells me about something that is happening or has happened. I'm of the mind that it has to do more than that to really win me over. It's written pretty well, I'd say. I just think it has to be approached with something more than with conventional methods of storytelling to really make it stand out.

Which reminds me, there is a pair of lines in this piece that does stand out to me, context notwithstanding.

He gave her his second-best bed with the furniture after he died
Because she was the best bed who he stood aground


I loved these two lines together. The repetition, the points of stress, the line ending, I loved it. All of it creates a wonderful subtext that I wished was more prevalent in the rest of the poem. Maybe you could hone in on the emotions surrounding these particular lines and expand them throughout. I think it would definitely give this poem the razor-sharp edge it needs to wrest my complete attention.

Thanks for writing, and good luck!
#2 ·
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Genre: “Thou Giv’st Love a Bàdde Næme

Thoughts: Of our trio of submissions, this has the absolute clearest purpose and theme: to rehabilitate Shakespeare’s wife in the eyes of the reader—and history, if possible. I have to confess not being too close to the Shakespeare Extended Universe for some time, so I’m not readily familiar with the kinds of rumors or negative portrayals that our Author refers to. Fortunately, there’s enough information here to get the gist across, and it’s not hard to let the imagination fill in from there.

This comes across strongly in terms of sheer earnestness. There’s no question that our Author is on a mission. There are also some bold and heartfelt declarations, such as “she was the best bed who he stood aground.” That line in particular is strong almost to the point of being jarring, but in a good way; one doesn’t generally run into lines like that, and it works very well.

This works less well for me in some other choices of phrasing, though. The “humble 'tard“ line fit the rhyme, but here what we get is jarring in a less-good way; this just doesn’t feel genuine as authorial self-deprecation. The line at the end about the hay was similarly fitting from a structure and rhyme perspective, but felt less buoyant and artistic than what I might hope for as the piece seeks to leave its final impression on the reader.

Still though, there’s a passion to this that shines through, which I don’t see quite as vibrantly in our other entries.

Tier: Henry IV, Part 2
#3 · 1
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The faceless lady's name alone can stay,
But where there is a Will, she hath a way.