I get the twins—they get the best—I get a family—I get a rest

I do not think that was a very traditional production of Cymbeline I just saw, but it was a great deal of fun. I particularly liked the fatal duel by slide whistle and the doctor played in triplicate, each time with a differently bad accent; the final pileup of last-minute identity revelations—to the point that the title character gives up on trying to follow them and just hugs everyone as they become relevant—is what got A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum stuck in my head. There were seven actors playing something over fifteen characters in a tracklit storefront space, sort of white-box theater; with no costume changes beyond a re-knotting or re-draping of white sashes (in one instance fashioned into a rather nice cravat) and you always knew who everyone was. Doing all the props with mime, foley, and musical instruments was genuinely lovely. I liked the bee-humming, nothing-like-Loreena-McKennitt's setting of "Fear no more the heat o' the sun . . ." I have no idea what they cut or rearranged. There was at least one obvious genderswap. It is either a sign of the original script or the aftereffects of flu that I didn't realize until I'd left the theater that the "Augustus Caesar" to whom Lucius and Cymbeline kept referring has got to be the emperor Claudius, which is frankly weirder than some random fictional Roman invasion. In short, having had to cancel almost every single plan I had for this week, including last night, I am glad I insisted on not missing this production, and now I need to re-read Geoffrey of Monmouth. Also my memory for faces is better than I think it is, but only in totally useless ways. Tomorrow, assuming I haven't relapsed, Death in Venice (1971) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. First, I read some poetry and pass out.

post scriptum. "The King of Cats, the Queen of Wolves," an epic-type poem on which I collaborated with Mike Allen and Nicole Kornher-Stace, has been accepted by Apex. time_shark has the story. I'm pleased.

Now I'm going to pass out.