From Sonnets to Swoons: Bard Buff Bites Off More Than He Can Chew (or Comprehend)
In a case of literary ambition surpassing cerebral capacity, William “Billy” Bookworm, a 37-year-old Westminster accountant, has landed himself in hospital after attempting to read a Shakespeare play a day for a month. Arriving at St. Bard’s General with a vocabulary so archaic it would make Julius Caesar raise an eyebrow and a headache that could rival Lear’s storm,Billy’s “Bard-a-thon” has become a cautionary tale for bibliophiles with boundless enthusiasm and limited forethought.
Billy’s literary quest began innocently enough. Inspired by a podcast on Elizabethan slang, he decided to tackle the Bard’s entire oeuvre, aiming for a daily dose of dramatic dialogue and iambic pentameter. The first week went swimmingly.”Hamlet” offered philosophical thrills, “As You Like It” a pastoral escape, and “Twelfth Night” a whirlwind of mistaken identities that left him mildly perplexed but buzzing with the joy of discovery. However, as the days turned into weeks,the Bard’s brilliance began to blur. Sonnets morphed into soliloquies, witches mingled with merchants, and Billy’s once-crisp comprehension crumbled like a stale Jaffa Cake.
The turning point came with “King Lear.” Battered by the play’s bleakness and sheer volume of text, Billy found himself adrift in a sea of despair, muttering “Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!” at the hospital nurses who gently led him from his apartment in a Shakespearean daze. Doctors diagnosed him with acute Bard overload, a rare side effect of literary overindulgence characterized by excessive Elizabethan wordplay, bouts of existential angst, and the sudden urge to quote iambic pentameter at pigeons.
While recovering, Billy is taking a break from the Bard, opting for lighter fare like haiku and Mad Libs. “I just got a bit carried away,” he admits sheepishly, clutching a well-worn copy of “The Very Hungry Caterpillar.” “Turns out, even Shakespeare needs to be savored, not swallowed whole.” His experience has become a source of amusement for fellow patients, with nurses now requesting Elizabethan-themed bingo calls and doctors prescribing laughter instead of laxatives.
Billy’s literary misadventure reminds us that even the most noble pursuits can have unintended consequences. So, the next time you embark on a literary marathon, remember to pace yourself, savor the words, and maybe avoid the tragedies during finals week. After all, even the Bard himself knew the value of a well-placed nap between acts. And as for Billy,he plans to return to Shakespeare, just one play at a time, perhaps starting with something a little less… Lear-ious.
