would love to hear you talk more about some of the more prominent/ important rhetorical devices a common reader might do well to familiarise themselves with. I'm sure the list would be mostly unsurprising, but your recent discussion of, say, parallelism has been useful for me; a simple device I knew but had been underrating.
This is one of the most succinct and well-drawn illustrations of the distinction between reportage and poetry that I’ve read. As someone who has tried, sometimes successfully, but most times in vain, to have the two meet (and to convince others that it’s worth trying), I’m grateful to have this now to refer to.
I have been forever ruined for A and C by being forced to watch an interminable performance at Stratford when I was a teen. I think it was 1972, Janet Suzman was Cleo and an all wrong Richard Johnson as Anthony. I thought I would die of boredom. Up to then, and afterwards, I loved trips to see Shakespeare, but this was a shocker.
would love to hear you talk more about some of the more prominent/ important rhetorical devices a common reader might do well to familiarise themselves with. I'm sure the list would be mostly unsurprising, but your recent discussion of, say, parallelism has been useful for me; a simple device I knew but had been underrating.
I plan to do more close reading soon to cover this
This is one of the most succinct and well-drawn illustrations of the distinction between reportage and poetry that I’ve read. As someone who has tried, sometimes successfully, but most times in vain, to have the two meet (and to convince others that it’s worth trying), I’m grateful to have this now to refer to.
🙏
I have been forever ruined for A and C by being forced to watch an interminable performance at Stratford when I was a teen. I think it was 1972, Janet Suzman was Cleo and an all wrong Richard Johnson as Anthony. I thought I would die of boredom. Up to then, and afterwards, I loved trips to see Shakespeare, but this was a shocker.
That’s a famous production, interesting that you didn’t like it
I was sixteen. Probably says it all, really. I wanted fairies and lovers, or melodrama with blood and gore and eyes put out.