Post the Third - 450 and 1

Today has been a day of dual celebrations for me, because it is both Shakespeare's (probable) 450th birthday and my dear Darcy's (definite) 1st. Indeed, had I known that they were going to share the day, I may have named him accordingly. That said, I'm highly controversial in my choice of favourite Shakespearean 'hero' (for reasons I shall explore below), so 'Petruccio' would have been rather a mouthful when shouted during walks...and, let's face it, he really wasn't going to be called anything but Darcy. In this case Austen trumped the Bard. I wonder whether he would've minded?

Anyway, I knew I wanted to mark the day somehow, but I didn't believe that anyone would want to be subjected to a collage of photos and videos from my puppy's first year - however cute he may be. So I thought I'd write a little ramble on my own very idiosyncratic relationship with 'dear old Shax', as we called him whilst at Warwick.

(This is your chance to stop reading, if you so desire, for beyond there lieth geekery and badly formed pentameter... [that wasn't pentameter, just an awful rhyming couplet])

I first discovered the beauty of Shakespeare's work at about the age of six, albeit via the medium of Prokofiev's ballet Romeo and Juliet. Now, I know that sounds terribly pretentious, but it's true. I have the most vivid memory of my Gramma being over to stay, and us sitting in front of the TV, eating macaroni cheese and watching the famous 'Dance of the Knights'. My little mind was enraptured and I was convinced from that moment on that I was destined to be a prima ballerina. Once I realised that wasn't going to happen (more on that in a later post), because I knew that the ballet was based on a play, I was desperate to read it...and all the rest.

Well, it turned out that theatre (and especially Shakespeare) was my new favourite thing, and those first readings sparked a devotion which has lasted a lifetime. Not only was the language exquisite, but it was something I could do on my own - i.e. without help - as long as I memorised the lines. More than that, whilst reciting, I discovered the freedom of being someone else. With the help of Juliet, Rosalind, Beatrice or Desdemona, I could leave my chair behind, even if only for a moment. What joy!

Fast forward a decade or so, and I found myself at Warwick, not too far from where my idol was himself born and raised. I joined Shakesoc, the uni society. Then, in the summer after my second year, I did the Shakespeare Summer School at RADA. Three things happened - I fell in love with RADA, I made some very lovely and talented friends, and I began to learn that my chair can be a positive influence when it comes to acting; I don't always have to escape.

The latter realisation came about as a result of the monologue our group director suggested to me for our final presentation - the opening speech of Richard III. I was intrigued, it being one of the few I had yet to read. In learning it I saw that Shakespeare had managed to capture the essence of living as a person with a disability in such a way (and with such precision) that he articulated the finer details of my own experience, despite a temporal distance of some four centuries. It was an emotional rollercoaster, but it set up a new phase of my adoration - if I had loved him at six or ten, I loved him even more at twenty.

 I went back to Warwick filled with hope for third year. It was the year of our compulsory Shakespeare module, for which I chose the practical strand nicknamed 'Shakespeare Without Chairs', in full cognisance of the irony of my taking it. Hilarity and play and wonderful workshops ensued. I wrote my first sonnet sequence, between Hotspur and Lady Percy from Henry IV I, and found that it quickly became my favourite poetic form. (I've since written two more, and I'm currently working on a third, between Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado...)

I also decided that I would somehow write about the character of Richard III for my dissertation. That was when I reread Taming of the Shrew and, pondering the way in which it could be posed as a narrative of the dynamic between gender and disability ('Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?'), fell in love with Petruccio. My tutor mentioned Caliban, so I undertook a three-pronged analysis, examining disability in relation to masculinity, femininity and ethnicity - which led me to London 2012, and the use of The Tempest in both the Olympic and Paralympic opening ceremonies.

Then I took a breath...

...but only briefly, before finding myself at RADA again and plunging into the world of Richard II in my first term. Who knew it would be another Plantagenet Richard furthering my exploration of Shakespeare and, this time, making a difference to my body as well as to my soul?

I didn't - but if there's one thing I've learnt about Shax, it's that he's full of surprises...and I bet he'd be surprised if we knew we were still so enamoured of him today, and that all the sonnets about time and words were right.

Happy birthday, my liege, since that's the address you deserve - and gramercy.