It’s no secret that I kind of found myself losing steam with the Wheel of Time series. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed every book (at least for the most part), but I remember feeling so invested, and so enthusiastic when I read The Eye of the World and that feeling of excitement has slowly faded as I’ve read each successive book. Although there are ups and downs, this was the first book in a long time that made me feel anything close to how I was feeling with the earlier books.
The main storyline is about Moiraine and how she ended up on her quest to look for the Dragon Reborn that we find her on at the beginning of the first book. I loved this, because Moiraine was my favourite character and I felt her absence quite strongly in the last few books. Admittedly, she is pretty different here, because she’s about 20 years younger and not yet the mysterious and enigmatic figure she would become (though she makes some progress towards that). Although I can imagine that some people might not appreciate the de-mystification, I enjoyed seeing her fleshed out a bit more and thought it helped make her more of a three-dimensional character.
Siuan also plays a pretty big role in this one (which is good, because I felt that she had been quite significantly side-lined in the recent novels too) and it’s cool to see her before she became Amyrlin. Most of all, I appreciated the deeper exploration of her relationship with Moiraine, as the pair of them are very sweet together. I was invested in their relationship in a way that I never really was with any of the other pairs of friends throughout the series.
To my surprise, the only thing I didn’t really enjoy was Lan. I liked him before, and always thought his bond with Moiraine was really cool and interesting. Here though, there’s a kind of eye-rolling “enemies to lovers” trope (even though they don’t become lovers exactly) which doesn’t really feel at all true to life. It’s also pretty tiresome when there are so, so many pairings in his series where they kind of hate each other, but also care a lot for each other. There are other types of relationships in the world and it would have been nice to see them.
Other than that (and the fact that Robert Jordan still couldn’t wait to find contrived ways to get the women naked and thinking about how they feel about being naked, which he always does), this was a real step up. I think a big part of it feeling more enjoyable was the fact that it was much more focused. A lot of the other books are very much just all the characters in different places, working towards different goals, and doing so very slowly. Here there are much fewer characters in the spotlight, and there goals are a lot clearer. It was a great throwback to the golden age of the series.
In 2011, shortly after starting this blog, I started reading the Bible – a couple of months ago I finally finished it. It’s funny because when I started it, I anticipated that I’d read it all in one go and so probably be finished before the end of the year. I found it a little too dry to read continuously though, so I ended up taking breaks between its books. As it turns out, the time I spent reading it ended up spanning my entire time at university, various jobs, the formation of the relationships with some of my most valued friends of my life, a global pandemic, and so many more experiences than I can recount here.
So other than finding it hard to get through in one sitting, what did I think of it? Well, good question. This is a massive book that covers a lot of ground and which is a lot of things to a lot of people – that makes it a very difficult book to review and as someone who’s not a Christian, my review is probably going to read completely differently to that of someone who is, but also, perhaps the fact that I am not a Christian even after reading it says something about it level of persuasiveness.
As someone who reads a lot, I really enjoyed it on a literary level. The Bible is the origin of so many iconic stories, from Adam and Even in the Garden of Eden, through to Noah’s arc, the horribly tormented life of Job, and even Jesus’s birth in the Christmas story. I’ve grown up in a culture that has the DNA of these stories ingrained very deeply and it’s so cool to see them in their original form – or, at least, to see them in one of their most popular translations. On a similar note, similar to Shakespeare, so many Biblical quotes have woven their way into so many other pieces of literature, and even everyday speech, and once again, it’s really cool to see their origin.
Though, as much as I can enjoy some really dry stuff, there were certain parts of the Bible that don’t seem like they were written to teach any kind of lesson or to tell any kind of story. What I’m talking about are long sections that talk extensively about the sizes of different tribes, or the lineage of different people. These feel more like ancient official documents and I don’t feel like I gained anything whatsoever by reading them. Meanwhile, the very detailed instructions on how to worship properly, or how to correctly offer animal sacrifices, are slightly more interesting, but still very dry reading.
For a lot of people, the Bible is a book of morality, though for those who are only familiar with its general perception, the amount of abhorrent violence and hatred might be pretty shocking. As much as God, as described in the Bible, is often considered a being of love, he seems pretty darn bloodthirsty a lot of the time. There’s talk about him enjoying the smell of burning flesh, or times when he instructs people to kill pregnant women in enemy states to stop their babies from being born and growing up to be enemy soldiers. Of course, he kills almost every single living being on the planet during the story of Noah and the flood too. I could go on about God’s heinously violent acts, and then of course there’s also the homophobia and misogyny that comes up too (although to my surprise, there are a couple of men who seem to be gay and are never condemned).
But for all that ugliness, I do actually really admire some of the stuff that Jesus said. First and foremost, he is genuinely a strong advocate of showing love to all people, including your enemies. I thought that was really beautiful, and a powerful moral message that you don’t see in a lot of other stuff, but if you really extrapolate the meaning, can be read it as a progressive instruction to be accepting of all peoples, which is strangely at odds with the Bible’s misogyny and homophobia. Another aspect that I really enjoyed about this was that Jesus has some pretty socialist attitudes – he believes that everyone has a responsibility to look after the poor and to live within their means without hoarding wealth. That’s another really cool thing that I thought was wonderfully ahead of its time. It’s just a shame that these really cool moral messages are often lost among the more regressive ones – or at least, it’s a shame that those who cling to its regressive messages are those that are the loudest. (It’s also a shame that Jesus introduces the idea of eternal hell for people who don’t worship him, which rather undermines his better points).
All in all, though it took me a long time and parts of it were boring (and other parts unpleasant) I am still glad that I read the Bible – after all, it’s a deeply influential text. Having said that, I did wish in retrospect that I hadn’t chosen the King James Edition, as although it’s one of the most influential translations, it is uses very archaic language and though I haven’t read any of the more recent translations in full, the excerpts I have read make me wish I had chosen one of them because there’s just so much more clarity to them. If you’re interested in religion, moral philosophy, or just the history of literature, it’s worth chipping through. Especially the Books of Genesis, Exodus, Pslams, and the whole New Testament.
I got to spend last weekend in Amsterdam, as I was invited to be a part of my friend Chloe’s hen party celebrations. Chloe is one of my oldest and dearest friends (and coincidentally, so is Liam, the person she’ll be marrying) and though I was friendly with one or two of the other guests, Chloe was the main person there that I knew very well before leaving. That’s the third year in a row where I’ve found myself in a situation like that, and sure enough it was just as good as both of the others.
After my trip to Portugal in 2023, this was only the second time that I have visited another country and for me, a big part of the fun was just walking around the streets with a group of good people. Of course, that doesn’t make for very interesting reading, so I’ll elaborate on the new experiences a little, rather than just saying “I enjoyed being in a nice place with nice people”.
The first item on our itinerary was a peaceful riverboat cruise. The captain of the boat was a delightful man who even gave us Stroopwafel biscuits. These were absolutely delicious and, dangerously, after they’d been passed around all the passengers, the tin (with loads left) was just sitting on the table near me. I could have eaten every single one of them, and indeed, I did hear their enticing siren’s call “eat every single one of us, Adam, leave no survivors” but fortunately, I was able to resist because my soul was busy gorging itself at the same time, taking in the new sights, and enjoying the gentle bobbing of the boat. The captain even told us a really nice story about a bridge. I don’t remember what it was though. However, I do remember that he said if we hug as we pass under that bridge, the love will last forever, so he told all the passengers to hug or even kiss each other as we went under. Chloe and I, sitting next to each other, had a good old cuddle as we went under, so that’s our friendship secured for all eternity. Not that it wasn’t already, but it’s nice to have a bit of bridge magic in the mix for good measure. Since the captain was talking about eternity, I suspect that’s a moment I’ll always remember very clearly too. Gosh, what a nice little boat ride. I wish I was a boat.
The next big attraction was going to the tulip fields for a day. Flowers are really nice, so I think the appeal of that speaks for itself. We spent the day wandering in the sun, having fun, and taking in the sights. Even the bins there looked like they were artistically crafted sculptures. At one point we went in a maze, and at the centre of the maze there was a long queue to go into an elevated wooden gazebo thing. Comically, it was just a regular old gazebo and for some reason, despite it being pretty big, people were only going in one group at a time. You could say that it was an anti-climax after you have to wait a good 10 minutes or so to get in, but I’d say that the absurdity of it all makes the whole experience worthwhile. We got to experience some first-hand obnoxiousness from other tourists who were impatient to get to a self-check-out we were using, which was a nice validation that we’re all nice people and they aren’t. Meanwhile, we also got to hop around on wooden platforms in a body of water (I’m sure I could see the bones of those who had fallen in under the waves) and go inside an old fashioned windmill as well (which ironically, had a shorter, faster moving queue than the ordinary gazebo). There was a safety sign in there and I thought “Oh yeah, ha ha ha, how dangerous, a windmill” but then I saw somebody getting decapitated by the windmill blades (in my imagination) and it all made sense.
This could really be an exceedingly long blog post, because almost every minute of every day was filled with some kind of fun – but I’ll end with one particularly amusing anecdote. We played some hen party games, and one of them was based around Liam being asked questions in a pre-recorded video. Chloe had to guess how he was going to answer each of the questions, and to her credit, she got almost all of the right. With one notable exception. The question was “If you could have any super power, what would it be?” and knowing that Liam is a top-quality human being, I said, “Oh, I bet he’ll say that he’d like to take away all of your sadnesses and anxieties so that he can ensure that your life is filled with nothing but happiness.” Chloe and all of the other hens agreed that that was probably what he would say, or at least some variation of it, and then we unpaused it to find out what power Liam would like. “Teleportation,” he said, without further elaboration. That gave us all a good laugh.
Though for me, the biggest appeal, as with pretty much every trip I’ve been on, was the people I went with. Chloe is one of my very best friends and even after we’ve known each other for 13 years, we’re still gaining new experiences and forming precious new memories together – back when I was giving her cookies in university lectures, who would have thought that we’d one day be strolling around the streets of Amsterdam together in the dead of night? Not me. I’m sure that there’ll be many other such experiences in the future of our now bridge-blessed eternal friendship. Grace, meanwhile, (who to be fair, I had met a fair few times before) has a delightfully calming energy and provided a level of Pokémon-themed fun to the trip, gave me solidarity as a fellow not-very-well travelled person, though it was a shame to have to break the news to her that she snores. Rad, who I’d only met briefly once before, played the role of the level-headed centre of the group who also somehow managed to be immune from all forms of intoxication – you can’t overstate the value of having someone like that in any group. Melissa, who I met for the first time at the airport, is the kind of positive person that I love to be around and her brightly coloured hair was not only stylish, but practical when it came to spotting her in crowds. Last but certainly not least, was my new best pal Lily, who not only has the credit for doing 90% of the booking and organising (maybe more), but now has many unique distinctions, like being the only person I’ve ever shared a roll-on deodorant with, the person who has shushed me in the eye the most times, and the only person who’s ever been kind enough to teach me how to do sexual harassment. It’s not a skill I’ll ever use, but, hey, the fire brigade probably knows how to start fires as well as how to put them out. What an incredible bunch.
Here’s my favourite picture from the trip:
I like it because I am in the centre, but it’s a pity that Chloe is in the back, since it’s her hen party. It’s a shame you can’t see our hearts, because she’d be more prominent then, since she was in all of them.
Seeing this on the shelf, you’d probably assume it was a sci-fi novel, but Communion is actually an account of strange experiences that the author, Whitley Strieber, believes to be true. He himself says that he cannot explain what happened to him and doesn’t want to assign any specific interpretation to the events that he describes… but it’s all very much in line with the classic UFO abduction scenario that many of us will already be familiar with.
I have to admit, I went in not expecting very much. Sure, I was curious, but online and in documentaries and so forth, I’ve come across accounts from people who claim to have encountered aliens and they typically all seem kind of ridiculous – not to mentioned laced with delusions of grandeur. What I found disturbing about Strieber’s own accounts, especially those earlier in the book, is that they feel hauntingly realistic. To be fair, he is an author of horror novels, so he just might be particularly good at that, but I certainly get the impression that he’s writing about something that he believes happened. He himself even acknowledges that these could all be hallucinations, but that he believes they happened.
Included between accounts of his experiences are transcripts of hypnosis sessions he has had. In general, I found that these were much less interesting than his written accounts, but I guess he was including the for an increase sense of authenticity. Little bits of them felt kind of creepy too, but ultimately these parts were significantly less interesting to me.
Indeed, by the end, there have been quite a lot of summaries of weird experiences in his life, and while they were all genuinely interesting to read – by the time you’ve read about four or five of them, the creepiness aspect completely wares off. Having said that, he does start to go down a little bit of a philosophical rabbit hole, talking about how we don’t really know anything about anything, and I found that pretty interesting and agreeable.
This book didn’t do anything to change my perspective on whether or not alien abductions are real – it’s still a subject I am enormously sceptical of. Nonetheless, not only is this an interesting and unsettling read, but it also offers pretty fascinating insights into the kind of experiences that people believe themselves to have had, and the impact it can have on they themselves and the people in their life. If that’s the kind of thing that you’re interested in, then it’ll be well worth giving this a read.
While I thought that Volume 15 was fantastic for the level of backstory that it provided, Volume 16 somehow managed to outdo it, to the extent that it has easily been my favourite volume of Assassination Classroom so far. It’s also very different than any that came before, as it is almost exclusively focused on telling us Koro-sensei’s backstory.
Koro-sensei is one of my favourite fictional characters ever and the story in this volume is a big part of the reason why. Something I really enjoy is when a kind of silly, over-the-top character is given a really dark backstory and though I am not going to spoil exactly what is revealed about Koro-sensei’s past in this review, I will say that it fits into that mould perfectly.
It’s a story of someone who has experienced really horrible things and then, rather than allowing it to take them down a dark path, has instead decided to choose the path of kindness. Not only do I think that that’s incredibly beautiful, but it resonates with because many of the people I love the most have had experiences that mirror it. It’s all about choosing to end a cycle of abuse and violence, rather than allowing it to continue.
This volume also properly introduces Yukimura, Koro-sensei’s predecessor as the teacher of Class-E and Kayano’s sister. While she’d been mentioned and even briefly appeared in a number of previous volumes, this is the first time that she’s really had any focus. As it turns out, she’s an incredibly important character to the narrative as a whole. She’s a very endearing character and someone I became very fond of in just this volume alone – and her friendship with Koro-sensei is something that is both beautiful and sad.
Before you read this volume, aspects of the Assassination Classroom narrative might feel rather random or disjointed. This ties everything together in a really clever and moving way. Meanwhile, if you felt any apprehension about the students’ deadline to assassination Koro-sensei, you’re likely to feel very differently after reading this volume, as it completely changes everything. It’s a fantastic piece of writing and something I’ll give a rare perfect score.
This was the first novel Charlotte Brontë ever submitted to be published – and it was rejected. Jane Eyre was her second attempt and then after her death The Professor was re-assessed and published. Although I did quite enjoy it, I did think that it rather lacked the depth of all the other Brontë novels I’ve read and so can understand why it might have been rejected at first (even though I’m happy that it ultimately saw the light of day).
The story is about a man called William Crimsworth and it’s all told by him in the first person. After growing frustrated with family dramas, he ends up moving to Belgium to become an English teacher – hence the title “The Professor”. After dealing with a couple of workplace dramas, he ends up embarking on a relatively straight-forward romance with one of the other teachers there and that’s that. There aren’t a lot of layers to it, but it’s a decent ride nonetheless.
Back when she was first trying to get published Charlotte Brontë was using a male pen name (Currer Bell) and something that she does especially well in The Professor is write like a man. In fact, if I were given the text with no context and asked what I thought the author’s gender was, I’d have said male. Though this is a positive reflection of her skills, unfortunately the main way that it comes across is in the way that William talks about women – specifically that he is really obsessed with their appearance and always describes them as angels and things like that. It’s pretty creepy when the women he’s talking about are teenage girls in his class too. The way he describes the main love interest, Frances, is also pretty creepy, because he has a very strong focus on how young she is.
Speaking of Frances, I did think that she was one of the better things about the novel. She, perhaps, would have been the clue that the novel was actually written by a woman. At this point in history, male authors often didn’t give their female characters much depth, or made then kind of ridiculous. This is not the case at all for Frances, who is very kind and independent, but not without her weaknesses – largely linked to low self-esteem and overly high levels of modesty. I thought she was quite compelling, and it’s impressive that she came off as such when only ever seen through the lens of William’s point of view.
Another side character who I found to be an absolute delight was Mr Hunsden… except if he were real, he’d be anything but a delight. He’s a loud contrarian who is often very rude, but in the most comical of ways. Generally speaking, he is a supportive figure in William’s life, but he also endlessly berates and criticises him. He seems to generally want to disagree with anything anyone ever says, and while that means he is usually in the wrong, he also makes the occasional good point, even critiquing societal expectations of the time. Any chapter he showed up in was one that I had a good time with.
Ironically, William himself is one of the least likeable people in the book – not just because of his weird and creepy way of talking about women, but also because of a vague sense of English superiority that he seems to carry within himself in Europe. It’s not super overt, especially not enough to stop him taking a romantic interest in non-English women, but it comes up every now and then and adds to my overall sense of not liking him that much. He’s another reason I don’t rate it as highly as other Brontë novels, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t an enjoyable book.
I recommend reading it if you enjoy classic novels or the Brontës in particular. Despite it’s flaws, I still enjoyed the journey and thought that it was a good book overall, even if others are better.
This is the second book in the Thrawn trilogy novels, all of which continue the story of Star Wars after the end of the original movie trilogy, but take the plot in a completely different direction to what Disney would later do with the sequel trilogy. Having read two of the three of these now, I can say that they are typically much more slower paced than the more action packed movies, but that they offer a little more depth and character development, which I appreciate quite a lot.
This novel is really all about an old fleet of ships that was lost after an accident years ago, but which were all extremely powerful. Talon Karrde, the smuggler who got caught up in the events of the first book (along with Mara Jade) knows where to find this abandoned armada, and of course both the New Republic and the Imperial remnants are keen to get their hands on these ships, because they could help tip the balance of power.
While the hunt for that fleet lies as the central point of tension at the heart of the novel, there were two other aspects that I found to be more interesting. The first of these dealt with Princess Leia agreeing to meet with a person named Khabarakh of the Noghri species (who are loyal to the emperor). This species is portrayed very sympathetically and this sub-plot does a brilliant job of showing why ordinary people would have followed the Empire, which of course helps the whole Star Wars universe to feel more nuanced.
Another thing I really liked about this one was that Luke Skywalker got a chance to meet Joruus C’baoth – the dark Jedi clone ally of Thrawn. Though he’s older and more mature than he is in the movies, Luke is still a young man, and seemingly the last Jedi in existence, so it only makes sense that he’d be drawn to C’baoth and want to see him as a mentor figure. Luke’s naiveté contrasted against C’baoth’s cynical attempts to manipulate him into turning to the Dark Side makes for pretty interesting reading, as Luke spends several chapters on his planet with him.
Of course – one of the biggest appeals of this book (just as with its sequel) is Thrawn himself. It’s no wonder people refer to it as the Thrawn trilogy, because he’s such a fantastically written villain. He really comes across as a man just trying to do his duty, and doing it incredibly well. His conflict with C’baoth ends up making them both feel more believable (and again, gives more nuance to the world) and the fact that he’s almost only ever seen through the eyes of Pellaeon (a member of his crew) helps to give the character a sort of mysterious, unknowable quality.
Meanwhile, although I didn’t think much of her in the previous book, Mara Jade was used more interestingly here. This novel brings her into direct contact with Thrawn, who of course is familiar with her thanks to her previous association with the Empire, but who is also untrusting of her because of their encounter in Heir to the Empire. The two have an interesting, vaguely antagonistic dynamic, and I absolutely loved it.
I think I preferred this one just a smidgen more than the first book and I don’t think anyone who read Heir to the Empire would be disappointed with this book. If you’re hungry for a deeper look at Star Wars’ alternative Legends timeline, then I recommend reading this. Timothy Zahn is a talented writer.
Frankenstein is one of my favourite books, and the star attraction of this manga anthology is an adaptation of Mary Shelly’s original novel by the iconic horror manga artist, Junj Ito. The story is adapted pretty darn faithfully and I think that his art offers a fantastic visual interpretation of events. Something that I was particularly impressed with was the design of Frankenstein’s creature himself who looked truly monstrous in a way that is very distinct for any other designs I’ve seen for him.
Although I acknowledge him as a very flawed person, I am very much an apologist for Frankenstein’s creation. Junji Ito, however, gave me the most hateful version of the character I’ve seen so far. It’s interesting, because he doesn’t deviate far from the source material, and yet he still manages to portray the events in such a way that makes the bitterness and hatred his primary driving motivation. I know these emotions are driving him in the novel too, but Ito manages to make him seem much more repugnant than usual, which made it feel quite different to the story as I am familiar with it.
Frankenstein isn’t the only thing in this anthology though – even if it is what has been used to sell copies. It also contains a number of stories about a school boy named Oshikiri. Oshikiri lives alone in a creepy old house while his parents have business that keeps them away from him. These stories were really weird, and typically dealt with evil spirits or dark paralell universe where a murderous version of Oshikiri lived.
While I typically enjoyed the Frankenstein adaptation more, I have to admit that the Oshikiri stories were probably creepier overall. One of them (Neck Spectre) has him killing one of his classmates and then finding the body distorted in terrifying ways, while another, The Bog of Living Spirits, had teenagers drowning in a local bog and dealt with really weird and obsessive behaviour. I think the stories were more unsettling in general because they had the energy of people not really taking teenagers seriously, and then kids losing their lives because of it. It was also somewhat hard to tell how much was real and how much was in Oshikiri’s mind. Something supernatural definitely seemed to be happening, but I thought he was quite an unsettling character.
Towards the end of the anthology, there were some shorter standalone pieces. One about a girl turning into a doll was really kind of unpleasant to read and pretty sad. Meanwhile, there were also some bits about the author’s dog which added some light comic relief to the overall very dark and twisted collection of tales in this anthology… but even that ended on a very sombre note.
If you like the story of Frankenstein, but find it hard to read classic literature, then this manga may be the perfect way for you to experience the story in written form. The additional standalone stories feel like supplementary extras, but I don’t say that to suggest that they are lower quality – only that they are much shorter and don’t have as much time to leave an impact as Frankenstein. Oshikiri stuff is also interesting because it contains every one of the stories about that character, but it feels like a ‘best of’ collection, because you never really truly have the details of his life properly explained… but perhaps that’s just to add to the eerie feeling. If you’re a fan of manga and horror, I recommend checking this out.
Although Winnie himself first appears in the Milne’s poetry collection When You Were Very Young, this book is really the first outing for Pooh and his friends. I absolutely loved it too. While I find that some children’s literature that tries to be whimsical fails to truly capture my imagination, that was not the case at all for this book – I was completely charmed throughout.
There’s not that much of an overall story to the book, but each chapter gives you an adventure (or misadventure) in the lives of Pooh, Christopher Robin, Piglet, Rabbit, and the rest of the animals in Hundred Acre Wood. Sometimes these are just light-hearted silly things like Pooh getting stuck in a rabbit hole, but other times there are slightly more tense situations, like when the woods are flooded during storm.
Regardless of what’s happening at any point in the book, each time I read any of it, it was like a trip to a world that I liked to exist in. The illustrations by E. H. Shepard which appear throughout the book really reinforced this too, with delightfully charming scenes showing Rabbit’s underground home, or the characters having fun together in a clearing in the woods.
What I admired the most about this book was that I felt it had perfectly captured two aspects of childhood. On the one hand, it’s all completely rooted in childhood imagination (after all, every one of the characters is based on a toy owned by the real Christopher Robin) with the ways that the characters think about the world mirroring the mindsets of the youngest children – but it also captures that carefree feeling that you have when you’re very young. The way they fill their days captures how it felt to have what seemed like an infinite period of time to yourself over the summer holiday,
Although it’s simple in a lot of ways, there’s very little that I could say against this book. It’s one of the best things that I’ve read in a while and is a wonderfully beautiful piece of writing. It even addresses Pooh’s name changing from Edward to Winnie, which I appreciated since it wasn’t necessary but feeds into the authenticity of the book. I definitely recommend reading this if you like any children’s literature.
I’m sure most people have a mental image of the assassination of Julius Caesar, and I don’t think that it would be quite as well known as it is without this Shakespeare play. I imagined that that scene would be the grand finale of the play, but as it happens, it actually occurs around the middle, so Julius Caesar himself is actually dead for quite a lot of the play that is named after him.
What I quite enjoyed about this play was that it had political commentary that I found to be quite entertaining in a way that I don’t often feel Shakespearean stuff is. Specifically I’m talking about a scene where, just after Caesar is murdered, Brutus delivers a speech to explain how he and his co-conspirators justified the assassination, which gets all the common people on his side, only for Mark Anthony to give a speech immediately afterwards that explains why he thinks it was awful – which then prompts the general public to then find the assassination abhorrent. It gave me a good laugh.
Also, as much as I did not think that Caesar himself was a sympathetic character, I do find his line of “Et tu, Brutus?” (translated, that means “you too, Brutus?”) which he says just before being killed, when he notices that his friend Brutus is among the assassins, quite moving. It seems there’s a good chance that Shakespeare just took this quote from another source (and I suppose it’s possible that it came from history) but I thought there was something kind of profoundly sad about that and it stuck with me
I have to admit though, that I did start to find the story a little less interesting as it went on. I was invested at the start, and when Caesar is killed, and then when the public are being told how to feel about it – but the political upheaval that follows his death wasn’t quite as engaging for me as the first half of the story. It wasn’t awful by any means, but it did feel like the main thing I was reading the play for had already happened.
All things considered though, this is definitely one of the better Shakespeare plays that I have read and one that I definitely recommend if you’re interested in the Roman Empire, or want to read more of Shakespeare’s historicals.