The height of the language in Shakespeare’s sonnets and plays (the latter of which I prefer greatly over the former) is unarguably miles above the common conversations in day to day life. If my morning, coffee-brewing convo with my pulling-on-her-snow-boots roommate happens about three feet above sea level (intelligence and depth wise), Shakespeare sustains conversations between his characters farther above this than the moon.
As such, simply reading Shakespeare alone as the words rattle and writhe within my head alone seems to deny the prose in some form. Each word of Shakespeare is meant to be shared, enunciated in dramatic twists to enthrall all within earshot.
This means, in short, that each time I open the collected works of William Shakespeare, I am compelled to read aloud – much to the dismay of my roommates and causing the occasional embarrassment of the reader (me).
Though I’m far from a practiced or talented speaker, being a quiet sort by nature with an unfortunate tendency to stumble upon every one in twenty words; any moment in any given work of Shakespeare has a tendency to flow and ebb off the tongue like an ocean of poetic expression.
Not only is Shakespeare easier to speak than to read, in my admittedly ignorant mind; Shakespeare is easier to understand when said aloud – possibly because for some small period of time you, the speaker, inhabit the being of each character.
Shake & Spear of Will 