#14 Stratford and the Melancholy Art of Saying Goodbye

Stratford-upon-Avon is small…like really small compared to London. Sirens, though present, are fewer and farther between, the air is a little softer and less full of drifting conversations, and everywhere you go is Shakespeare and the smell of rose petals. It was absolutely lovely getting a chance to be out in the country for our last few days in England. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember that the authors you read are or were real people, but seeing the glove-maker’s workshop with tanning hides and the kitchens stocked with what one tour guide called “real imitation, genuine fake” food inside Shakespeare’s family home finally made it a reality: Shakespeare was a real, living, breathing person who worked within a small community, had a storied family, and spent his life with someone that he loved. Sidenote: I had no idea that Anne Hathaway was twenty-six and Shakespeare was eighteen when they got married. The tour guide also said that they were neighbors. As unsettling as that age gap is as someone living amidst 21^st century cultural norms, I guess there’s something sweet about the fact that they grew up together. Shakespeare was just like, “her, that farm-girl down the road, I know she’s going to be the one.” 

            Taking a coach from London to Stratford made me realize just how far away London must have felt from sleepy little Stratford-upon Avon in Shakespeare’s day. As it was, it took us about three hours (?) to get there with a brief stop in Oxford. I can’t imagine traveling by carriage to the city, and something about that journey made me think of all those stories we have in America of small-town people who dreamt of going to New York to write. I wonder if Shakespeare dreamt of something bigger as he was growing up, if he felt the need to break free from the place where he grew up, to make something of himself, and to travel. Yet, as this trip has made me realize, it’s a lot harder to leave the place where you come from behind than you think it will be even when you dream of broader things. If I were him, I’m not sure I could leave the beauty of Stratford behind me. 

            I think my favorite part of what we saw, though, was a grove of trees at Anne Hathaway’s cottage that were labeled with Shakespeare quotes related to each specific variety (cypress, elm, oak, etc.). Something tells me that Shakespeare loved trees as much as I do if he was so intentional as to call them by name. One thing that stuck out to me about our tour of Shakespeare’s Birthplace, The New Place, and Anne Hathaway’s cottage was how Shakespeare both built off of the work of others and, in turn, inspired others to build from him. The Shakespeare Center contains a display of the books and stories that Shakespeare read in his early years, such as Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Holinshed’s Chronicles, which was interesting to see when considering how often Shakespeare used old stories as frames for his retellings on stage in plays like Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet. 

Yet, as you continue through these displays, it becomes apparent that so many people have also used Shakespeare’s work as a source of inspiration. A window from Shakespeare’s birthplace is etched with the names of hundreds of people who have visited there, including writers and actors like Walter Scott and Henry Irving. This is what great art does: it builds from something beautiful, it inspires, and it leads to more valuable contributions of art in the world. I feel like this trip has been similar in the sense that I’ve been lucky enough to learn and be inspired by the kind, brilliant, gifted people that I’ve met here. As sad as it is to say goodbye, I’m grateful for all of the little moments of sunlight during this past month in London and Stratford. Thank you again, Casey, Shawn, and Courtneay for making this such a lovely experience!

With Warmth, 

Kath