Shakespeare, KJB, Henry IV

Yes, that’s KJB, as in King James Bible, not KGB, as in the defunct Soviet Union’s internal terrorist organization.

Anyway, had a very busy and draining week – two interviews, couple of Little One functions, wife working extremely late a few nights – so I did not spend much time with Mr. Shakespeare. I did finish Henry IV part I early on and watched two scenes from the BBC production, and, sadly, that’s it.

I did, however, go out to a big used book store and managed to find a complete collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets and an authentic King James Bible. I bought the sonnets because I don’t have them in their totality, just a handful reprinted in the Great Books and a compendium of poetry I have. I bought the KJB for two reasons: one, the very first Bible I had (as a boy) is a KJB New Testament and it’s falling to pieces; it’s what I read when I had my major conversion in 1992. Second, it’s always compared to Shakespeare’s plays as the summit of English literature, written about the same time as the plays were being wrapped up. Indeed, there’s a rumor Shakespeare may even have worked on it, which I briefly address, here.

One thing I immediately discovered. After reading through a half-dozen of the Bard’s plays (Tempest, Midsummer Night’s Dream, Much Ado About Nothing, Cymbeline, As You Like It, and Henry IV part I), I find that reading the KJB is a breeze. Whereas the punctuation, the sentence structure, the diction, the vocabulary, used to puzzle me and serve as a roadblock between me and the Word, I found out that the few selections I’ve read this week … flowed.

I remember reading a book three years ago about a guy who decided he was going to read through a broad selection of classics and contemporary works thought to be classics. Then he’d offer his opinions about the author in question and the work. When he got to Hegel, he had a similar experience as I did. He wrote how the work had it’s own internal rhythm, and only after a few hundred pages under his belt could he see how to grasp it, though grasp it he never did. Shakespeare and the KJB is like that, for me, only in this case, I wondrously grasped it, and came out the better for it.

My goal this week is to finish the BBC play and to finish part 2. B&N did not have part 2, so I’m gonna have to go online to see which local library does. Next Saturday I’ll try to post something of interest about Shakespeare or his works (perhaps something on the sonnets) rather than just a self-serving update on my progress through the canon.

One tidbit about Henry IV: I absolutely love the relationship between Prince Hal and Falstaff. The latter, as you may know, is an overweight, older knight devoted to gluttony in all its forms, prone to loud, self-serving boasting, and is thoroughly the life of any room he enters. Young Prince Hal (and many of their companions) enjoy keeping the old man in his place by peppering their speech with good-natured commentary about his corpulence. For example –

Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack …

You will, chops?

Peace, you fat-kidneyed rascal!

Peace, you fat guts!

Falstaff sweats to death, and lards the lean earth as he walks along.

Zounds, you fat paunch …

Why, thou claybrained guts, though knotty-pated fool, thou obscene, greasy tallow-catch –

… this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh …

And Falstaff, you carried your guts away nimbly …


And that’s just in the first two Acts. The key is that Falstaff takes it all in stride, almost as a point of pride, and attempts to dish it out as bad as he gets it. I don’t know about you, but I laugh out loud when I read those pseudo-slurs and completely enjoyed the interplay and verbal jousting (which is quite common in the plays).