![]() Bièvre-Perrin Nathanael Lambert, Parergon (39.1): 244-46 Erin Casey-Williams, Shakespeare Quarterly (volume, issue, and page numbers tbd). Cantor’, Skenè: Journal of Theatre and Drama Studies (6.2): 5-21 Lucy Munro, Studies in English Literature 1500-1900 (60.2): 400-01 Cyrielle Landrea, Anabases: Traditions et réceptions de l’Antiquité (32): 270-72 Domenico Lovascio, Early Modern Literary Studies (21.2): open access (6 pp.) Andelko Mihanovic, thersites 13 (2021): 213-21 (open access) for the special issue “Antiquipop: chefs d’œuvres revisités,” edited by F. Cantor, Skenè: Journal of Theatre and Drama Studies (6.1): 255-64 cf. Letters, 20 and 27 September 2019) Andrew Hadfield, Renaissance Quarterly (73.1): 378-80 Sean Keilen, Cahiers Élisabéthains (101.1): 136-39 Andrea Campana, The Heythrop Journal (61.3): 546 Paul A. Wiseman, Times Literary Supplement (9 August 2019 cf. ![]() Doty, The Review of English Studies (70.296): 768-70 T. Reviews to date: Paul Hammond, The Seventeenth Century (34.4): 547-48 Paul Innes, The Classical Review (69.2): 636-68 Jeffrey S. Shakespeare’s critique of Romanitas anticipates concerns about secularisation, individualism and liberalism shared by philosophers such as Hannah Arendt, Alasdair MacIntyre, Charles Taylor, Michael Sandel and Patrick Deneen. Shakespeare and the Fall of the Roman Republic considers Shakespeare’s place in the history of concepts of selfhood and reflects on his sympathy for Christianity, in light of his reception of medieval biblical drama, as well as his allusions to the New Testament. Why did Rome degenerate into an autocracy? Alternating between ruthless competition, Stoicism, Epicureanism and self-indulgent fantasies, Rome as Shakespeare sees it is inevitably bound for civil war. In Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra, Shakespeare shows Rome’s transition from Republic to Empire. Shakespeare and the Fall of the Roman Republic introduces Shakespeare as a historian of ancient Rome alongside figures such as Sallust, Cicero, St Augustine, Machiavelli, Gibbon, Hegel and Nietzsche. The colors, defense, that sent men to the bottom, their hearts bursting with songs of color and charm.Note: reviews of STFORR have been uploaded here as multiple separate files. The colors that came from the air and the island and the world itself, which hushed and hurried across the world to here, to meet when they were needed, to stop the seamen who slid over the waves to the break in the breakwall. Oh, mostly the pleasures, one after another, singing, lulling, hypnotically arresting the eye as the ship sped into the heart of the maelstrom of weird, advancing, sky-eating colors. Colors like racing, and pungent, and far-seen shadows, and bitterness, and something that hurt, and something that pleasured. In a rising, keening spiral of hysteria they came, first pulsing in primaries, then secondaries, then comminglings and off shades, and finally in colors that had no names. ![]() “Softly at first, humming, creeping, boiling up from nowhere at the horizon line twisting and surging like snake whirlwinds with adolescent intent building, spiraling, climbing in vague streamers and tendrils of unconsciousness, the colors came. a soundless screaming a soundless whirring a soundless spinning spinning spinning. trapped and doomed alone in a mist-eaten nowhere. this is the stopover before hell or heaven. ![]() pinpoints cast in amber straining and elongating running like live wax. memory the gibbering spastic blind memory. a soundless owl of frenzy trapped in a cave of prisms. 12 of the best book quotes from I Have no Mouth and I Must Scream 01 Share Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. endless nights that pealed ebony funeral bells. a cornucopia that rose up cuculiform smooth and slick as a worm belly. down a bottomless funnel roundly sectioned like a goat' s horn. lights whirling and spinning in a cotton candy universe. At least the four of them are safe at last. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better. Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. Blotches of diseased, evil gray come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be.
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