tlhIngan-Hol Archive: Sat Jan 23 05:42:36 2010
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Re: More Shakespeare please
- From: Fiat Knox <[email protected]>
- Subject: Re: More Shakespeare please
- Date: Sat, 23 Jan 2010 13:40:14 +0000 (GMT)
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- In-reply-to: <[email protected]>
> I believe MacBeth would be fitting in
> Klingon. The Tempest seems more
> problematic to me, as the use of magic drives the
> play. That seems wholly
> un-Klingon.
Are you sure? :)
Klingons sing songs of Gods and mythologies. One common Klingon greeting is to wish that the warrior meets the spirit of Kahless in his dreams. In the Boreth monsatery, warriors seek out divinatory visions in flames.
The Klingon phenomenon of to'va'Doq is well known - a sharing of much information with a glance at another's eyes. There is also the leSSov, the fatalistic knowledge of the time that is to come.
The language mentions ghosts, spirits and phantoms of things that are not there ("These our actors, / As I foretold you, were all spirits and / Are melted into air, into thin air")
Klingons dream of their fathers at important times in their lives, and hold symbolism to be an essential part of existence: Sto-vo-Kor, Grethor, Feklahr, the Barge of the Dead, the symbol of the hammer meaning self - sufficiency, the need for rites of passage and rites to celebrate the turning of seasons and the end of harvests, the ritual surrounding a young Klingon's first hunt and so on.
Klingons are a species /steeped/ in the trappings of magic.
Shapechanging; spirits; ghosts of dead people; scheming sorceresses; dreams; visions; prophecies; Klingons would have absolutely no trouble in understanding the strange concepts in Shakespeare's plays. :)
> On Sat, Jan 23, 2010 at 6:23 AM, Fiat Knox <[email protected]>
> wrote:
> > Ne'er mind Hamlet. Has anybody translated anything
> from Macbeth?
> > "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
> > Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
> > Til the last syllable of recorded time.
> > And all our yesterdays light fools the way to dusty
> death.
> > Out, out, brief candle, life is but a walking shadow,
> > A poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the
> stage
> > Then is heard no more.
> > It is a tale told by an idiot,
> > Full of sound and fury,
> > Signifying nothing."
> > - Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
> > Or indeed Prospero's lines from The Tempest:-
> > "Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
> > As I foretold you, were all spirits and
> > Are melted into air, into thin air:
> > And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
> > The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
> > The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
> > Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
> > And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
> > Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
> > As dreams are made on, and our little life
> > Is rounded with a sleep."
> > - The Tempest, Act 4, Scene 1