Misspellings? Italics? Random Capitalizations?

I refuse to print the sonnets in "normal text." The letter e added to the end of a word is there for a reason. The fact that "substantiall" is elongated and "selfe" and "fewell," the same, are extremely important notes from the author to the reader. An educated actor, upon being presented with a part for a Shakespearean play knows to look to the First Folio. That is where you will find the text print naked like this. No Penguin bullshit or Folgers coffee whatever. First Folio only, and of course the Quarto for sonnets and poems. Otherwise you miss out on endless secrets that the author has left for his actor. Each letter is important.

Self substantial fuel. Selfe substantiall fewell. These are the most important words in the poem. How do I know? Shakespeare tells me so. He has elongated them. They are meant to be relished in the mouth like chocolate or first coffee in the morning, fine wine, the lips of a lover, sweat, sex: everything. The alliteration in self and substantial are exciting enough. Rub them together with fuel and combine. Perfection.

Rose. Rose. Italicized and Capitalized. You lose it completely when you read the poem alone in some gaudy transposed version. You don't have the poem anymore. You have mush.

I refuse. You can read the words. You know what they are, and then some. You know what they are and you know they are important.

Ahem. That being said.

A Guide to Shakespeare's Sonnets - An Introduction

"We have not reprinted the Sonnets, &c. of Shakespeare, because the strongest act of Parliament that could be framed, would fail to compel readers into their service..." - George Steevens (publisher).

In the wake of a ridiculously hurtful breakup I have turned my energies to The Sonnets. No act of Parliament has led me here. Rather that misery loves company, and so I came to the most reliable source of love-worn misery, the master poet of courtly love, Mr. William Shakespeare. To quell the fires of my burning ache, I dove in to the libraries of Manhattan to discover the background surrounding these exquisite poems.

So much friggin' mystery!

Love triangles, homosexuality, whores, and the painful competition of artistic and sexual rivalry surround these 154 sonnets in a fog that, although scholar after scholar has archaeologically delved into finding the answers, each one dispiritedly admits that their educated speculation will have to satisfy. The sum of which these thousand questions come down to two words.

Why and whom?

Thus, in the asylum of my little Lower East Side Apartment, my misery and I will attempt to study these professions of passion, and maybe come to some conclusions of my own...