What do you think?
Rate this book
Four Comedies: The Taming of the Shrew, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Merchant of Venice, Twelfth Night
The Taming of the Shrew
Robust and bawdy, The Taming of the Shrew captivates audiences with outrageous humor as Katharina, the shrew, engages in a contest of wills–and love–with her bridegroom, Petruchio, in a comedy of unmatched theatrical brilliance, filled with visual gags and witty repartee.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Fairy magic, love spells, and an enchanted wood turn the mismatched rivalries of four young lovers into a marvelous mix-up of desire and enchantment, all touched by Shakespeare’s inimitable vision of the intriguing relationship between dreams and the waking world.
The Merchant of Venice
This dark comedy of love and money contains one of the truly mythic figures in literature–Shylock, the Jewish moneylender. The “pound of flesh” he demands as payment of Antonio’s debt has become a universal metaphor for vengeance. Here, pathos and farce combine with moral complexity and romantic entanglements, to display the extraordinary power and range of Shakespeare at his best.
Twelfth Night
Set in a topsy-turvy world like a holiday revel, this comedy juxtaposes a romantic plot involving separated twins and mistaken identity with a more satiric one about the humiliation of a pompous killjoy. The hilarity is touched with melancholy, and the play ends, not with laughter, but with a clown’s plaintive song.
Each Edition
• Comprehensive explanatory notes
• Vivid introductions and the most up-to-date scholarship
• Clear, modernized spelling and punctuation, enabling contemporary readers to understand the Elizabethan English
• Completely updated, detailed bibliographies and performance histories
• An interpretive essay on film adaptations of the play, along with an extensive filmography
Robust and bawdy, The Taming of the Shrew captivates audiences with outrageous humor as Katharina, the shrew, engages in a contest of wills–and love–with her bridegroom, Petruchio, in a comedy of unmatched theatrical brilliance, filled with visual gags and witty repartee.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Fairy magic, love spells, and an enchanted wood turn the mismatched rivalries of four young lovers into a marvelous mix-up of desire and enchantment, all touched by Shakespeare’s inimitable vision of the intriguing relationship between dreams and the waking world.
The Merchant of Venice
This dark comedy of love and money contains one of the truly mythic figures in literature–Shylock, the Jewish moneylender. The “pound of flesh” he demands as payment of Antonio’s debt has become a universal metaphor for vengeance. Here, pathos and farce combine with moral complexity and romantic entanglements, to display the extraordinary power and range of Shakespeare at his best.
Twelfth Night
Set in a topsy-turvy world like a holiday revel, this comedy juxtaposes a romantic plot involving separated twins and mistaken identity with a more satiric one about the humiliation of a pompous killjoy. The hilarity is touched with melancholy, and the play ends, not with laughter, but with a clown’s plaintive song.
Each Edition
• Comprehensive explanatory notes
• Vivid introductions and the most up-to-date scholarship
• Clear, modernized spelling and punctuation, enabling contemporary readers to understand the Elizabethan English
• Completely updated, detailed bibliographies and performance histories
• An interpretive essay on film adaptations of the play, along with an extensive filmography
736 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1988
14 people are currently reading
338 people want to read
About the author
William Shakespeare
28k books47.3k followersWilliam Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon" (or simply "the Bard"). His extant works, including collaborations, consist of some 39 plays, 154 sonnets, three long narrative poems, and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Shakespeare remains arguably the most influential writer in the English language, and his works continue to be studied and reinterpreted.
Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire. At the age of 18, he married Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Sometime between 1585 and 1592, he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part-owner ("sharer") of a playing company called the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men after the ascension of King James VI and I of Scotland to the English throne. At age 49 (around 1613), he appears to have retired to Stratford, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive; this has stimulated considerable speculation about such matters as his physical appearance, his sexuality, his religious beliefs, and even certain fringe theories as to whether the works attributed to him were written by others.
Shakespeare produced most of his known works between 1589 and 1613. His early plays were primarily comedies and histories and are regarded as some of the best works produced in these genres. He then wrote mainly tragedies until 1608, among them Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth, all considered to be among the finest works in the English language. In the last phase of his life, he wrote tragicomedies (also known as romances) and collaborated with other playwrights.
Many of Shakespeare's plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime. However, in 1623, John Heminge and Henry Condell, two fellow actors and friends of Shakespeare's, published a more definitive text known as the First Folio, a posthumous collected edition of Shakespeare's dramatic works that includes 36 of his plays. Its Preface was a prescient poem by Ben Jonson, a former rival of Shakespeare, that hailed Shakespeare with the now famous epithet: "not of an age, but for all time".
Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire. At the age of 18, he married Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Sometime between 1585 and 1592, he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part-owner ("sharer") of a playing company called the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men after the ascension of King James VI and I of Scotland to the English throne. At age 49 (around 1613), he appears to have retired to Stratford, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive; this has stimulated considerable speculation about such matters as his physical appearance, his sexuality, his religious beliefs, and even certain fringe theories as to whether the works attributed to him were written by others.
Shakespeare produced most of his known works between 1589 and 1613. His early plays were primarily comedies and histories and are regarded as some of the best works produced in these genres. He then wrote mainly tragedies until 1608, among them Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth, all considered to be among the finest works in the English language. In the last phase of his life, he wrote tragicomedies (also known as romances) and collaborated with other playwrights.
Many of Shakespeare's plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime. However, in 1623, John Heminge and Henry Condell, two fellow actors and friends of Shakespeare's, published a more definitive text known as the First Folio, a posthumous collected edition of Shakespeare's dramatic works that includes 36 of his plays. Its Preface was a prescient poem by Ben Jonson, a former rival of Shakespeare, that hailed Shakespeare with the now famous epithet: "not of an age, but for all time".
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
April 22, 2024
A Midsummer Night's Dream
I can't even rate this because I don't think I've ever read anything else that left zero impact. Which I guess is something of an accolade if you squint. Started off promising and then promptly went absolutely nowhere and then it was over. Almost like a (~cracks a sardonic smile while rolling eyes~) dream.
The Taming of the Shrew -- 1.5
A comedy should, first and foremost, be funny, and sadly, The Taming of the Shrew failed in this most basic regard.
It's been said that to really get under the hood of comedy, you have to first consider what the premise of the joke is; what are you being asked to find funny? In the 'Jeeves' series by Wodehouse, for instance, you have a bumbling, aristocratic boss and his incredibly competent and clever butler. The underlying absurdity to this set-up is that, in theory, an aristocrat is such because he there is some intrinsic, inherited quality that makes him a cut above those who, because of something intrinsic and inherited, serve him. By having a foolish and inept aristocrat and a clever and capable servant, the joke is that there is nothing intrinsic and inherited that place the aristocrat and servant in their respective social positions. The joke is that the qualities associated with each class are not innate.
Therefore, this joke is funny to the person who agrees with that premise, and not funny to the person who does not.
This was my problem with 'The Taming of the Shrew' -- I just didn't think the joke was funny, the joke here being: 'imagine: a woman pushing around a bunch of impotent men until a 'real' man comes by and pushes her around to the point that she is 'tamed' and completely subservient to him to the degree that the hitherto 'good' women seem shrewish by comparison.'
To find this funny, you have to agree with the premise that men should not be pushed around by women, that they are not 'real' men if they are, and that the correct and only role of a woman is to obey and worship the men in her life, especially her husband.
I don't agree with that premise, so this didn't read as comedy to me.
Now, not finding something funny is not the same as finding something offensive, though too often these days, the two tend to be conflated, especially by those engaging in bad faith.
Take slapstick humor a la The Three Stooges, for instance. A lot of people like the slapstick in The Three Stooges, but a lot of people don't find it funny, and some people might say it's offensive.
The person who finds it funny maybe enjoys the absurdity, the unreality of it, or may feel schadenfreude. The person who doesn't find it funny may not find that premise of absurdity and unreality enough to feel schadenfreude rather than empathy. And the person who finds it offensive may not only think it's unfunny for those reasons, but moreover, promoting or normalizing bullying or violence. But not everyone who doesn't find The Three Stooges funny will find it offensive.
To me, 'The Taming of the Shrew' is not only unfunny, it is offensive. I not only don't find the premise funny, I find the follow-through vile. Many of my notes in the margins were 'ew' and 'yuck' when it came to situations that were probably designed to be funny.
In the introduction, the writer makes a point to say that this particular play hasn't done well since Shakespeare's time, even long before the 'era of political correctness' some might claim we now live in, writing: "Only in greatly altered forms did it enjoy stage success through much of the 17th, 18th, and early 19th centuries [...] probably a response to the play's uncanny ability to make audiences of any era uncomfortable." (p.9)
Indeed.
I'll rather let the source material speak for itself here.
1. Petruchio: I am he am born to tame you, Kate, and bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate conformable as other household Kates. (p.59)
2. Petruchio: 'Tis a world to see how tame, when men and women are alone, a meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew. (p.60)
3. Petruchio: Another way I have to man my haggard, to make her come and know her keeper's call [...] She ate no meat today, nor none shall eat. Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not. [...] I'll rail and brawl; and with the clamor keep her still awake. This is a way to kill a wife with kindness, and thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. (p.84)
And then, for the rest of the play, we get to read about how, after not letting her eat or sleep, she indeed becomes his obedient little wifey, which is proven to the audience through a series of scenes depicting the degree to which he's browbeaten her.
In one such scene, they're heading out to return to her father's house for a visit, and he states that it's nighttime even though it's not, she contradicts him, saying it's daytime, and he threatens to not continue on to her father's house and drive them home unless she agrees to say it's nighttime because he says so.
Petruchio: I say it is the moon.
Katharina: I know it is the moon.
Petruchio: Nay, then you lie. It is the blessed sun.
Katharina: Then, God be blest, it is the blessed sun. But sun it is not when you say it is not. [...] What you will have it named, even that it is, and so it shall be so for Katharine. (p.102)
We get this exact 'joke' again one page later. They finally arrive at her father's house, and after a while, she tells Petruchio she wants to go to her sister's wedding feast. He tells her they can only go after she kisses him. She hesitates, saying that kissing in public is embarrassing for her, and he shrugs and says:
"Why, then let's home again."
"Nay, I will give thee a kiss [She kisses him] Now pray thee, love, stay.
"Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate. Better late than never. (p.110)
The piece de resistance comes at the end when he proposes a wager with the other newlyweds over which of their wives is most obedient. The other two men’s wives don't come out from the house when they 'bid' and 'entreat', but Kate comes out dragging the other two when Petruchio 'commands' her to come. But that's not good enough of a show, so he adds:
"I will win my wager better yet, and show more sign of her obedience. [...] Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not. Off with that bauble. Throw it underfoot. [She obeys]. (p.116)
One of the other wives balks at this type of humiliation of a wife, but the other two husbands both express that they wish their wives were as obedient.
Just in case the audience still isn't 'getting' it, we end the play with Petruchio charging Kate to "tell these headstrong women what duty they do owe their lords and husbands." (p.116)
She complies, giving a very long and very sad 'trad-wife' speech about how "thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, and for thy maintenance commits his body to painful labor both by sea and land [...] and craves no other tribute at thy hands but love, fair looks, and true obedience -- too little payment for so great a debt [...] I feel ashamed that women are so simple to offer war where they should kneel for peace." (p.117)
'The Taming of the Shrew' is not a comedy; it's a disturbing account of socially accepted and encouraged domestic abuse leading to Stockholm Syndrome. And it's made even sadder by the fact that so little has changed since the turn of the seventeenth century given the popularity of the 'trad wife' hashtag on TikTok, and the spooky similarity between Kate's speech at the end of the play, and the rhetoric of conservative women now.
So, no, I did not find this play funny, and indeed, I found it offensive and disturbing. It deserves its unpopularity, it should only be read for filth, and a few witty lines scattered throughout do not make it worth reading unless being read critically.
Twelfth Night -- 3
I remember reading this comic-book version of Twelfth Night as a kid, and being really obsessed with the story -- more so than any of the other stories in the series (and I'm pretty sure we had them all).
It's one of those fairly formative experiences; in this case my introduction to Shakespeare was also an introduction to the fluidity of gender. I remember thinking how cool it was that Viola could just put on men's clothes and presto-chango-rearrango become Cesario, a man, in the eyes of everyone else in the play (until of course she, ironically, has to 'come out' as a woman at the end). Disney's 'Mulan' was the second of the 'one-two' punches that solidified this fluidity in my mind as a thing..
All this to say that whatever else one might take away from those two stories, to at least one kid, they were a sort of permission to follow in their respective protagonist's footsteps, though that would come much later on. If I may be so trite: representation matters.
I so loved that picture book version of the story that I developed a sort of aversion to reading the original because I was so afraid that it wouldn't live up to what I wanted from it: to be able to relive that 'aha' moment from so long ago.
And, well, I did indeed find that it didn't quite measure up. It happens.
Specifically, I discovered upon reading the original that I don't much care for most everything happening around Viola's story. I didn't find it thematically very complex as other plays of his are, nor did I find the humor altogether that funny. I may be accused of 'hating fun' but I actually didn't care for some of the set-ups for some of the jokes, namely the entire side-plot revolving around the servants humiliating Olivia's butler (?), Malvolio. Sure, he's not terribly 'merry' (which is a key character trait in this play, and if you don't want to have fun, there's something wrong with you), but the amount of time dedicated to making him look foolish just felt meanspirited.
I appreciated that the very pushy way Orsino went about trying to woo Olivia wasn't ultimately rewarded by her, but it was still, again, kind of unpleasant to have to read scene after scene of him feeling entitled to her love despite the fact that she's made it clear she isn't interested in him.
Much of this is more of an emotional response than a scholarly one, but since it can't be said that Shakespeare is underwritten about in academia, I feel like one is allowed to have a feelings > facts-based review of his work.
That all being said, I will always be appreciative of that picture book series -- it definitely caught me at the right moment in time. And I still think 'Cesario' is a great name.
I can't even rate this because I don't think I've ever read anything else that left zero impact. Which I guess is something of an accolade if you squint. Started off promising and then promptly went absolutely nowhere and then it was over. Almost like a (~cracks a sardonic smile while rolling eyes~) dream.
The Taming of the Shrew -- 1.5
A comedy should, first and foremost, be funny, and sadly, The Taming of the Shrew failed in this most basic regard.
It's been said that to really get under the hood of comedy, you have to first consider what the premise of the joke is; what are you being asked to find funny? In the 'Jeeves' series by Wodehouse, for instance, you have a bumbling, aristocratic boss and his incredibly competent and clever butler. The underlying absurdity to this set-up is that, in theory, an aristocrat is such because he there is some intrinsic, inherited quality that makes him a cut above those who, because of something intrinsic and inherited, serve him. By having a foolish and inept aristocrat and a clever and capable servant, the joke is that there is nothing intrinsic and inherited that place the aristocrat and servant in their respective social positions. The joke is that the qualities associated with each class are not innate.
Therefore, this joke is funny to the person who agrees with that premise, and not funny to the person who does not.
This was my problem with 'The Taming of the Shrew' -- I just didn't think the joke was funny, the joke here being: 'imagine: a woman pushing around a bunch of impotent men until a 'real' man comes by and pushes her around to the point that she is 'tamed' and completely subservient to him to the degree that the hitherto 'good' women seem shrewish by comparison.'
To find this funny, you have to agree with the premise that men should not be pushed around by women, that they are not 'real' men if they are, and that the correct and only role of a woman is to obey and worship the men in her life, especially her husband.
I don't agree with that premise, so this didn't read as comedy to me.
Now, not finding something funny is not the same as finding something offensive, though too often these days, the two tend to be conflated, especially by those engaging in bad faith.
Take slapstick humor a la The Three Stooges, for instance. A lot of people like the slapstick in The Three Stooges, but a lot of people don't find it funny, and some people might say it's offensive.
The person who finds it funny maybe enjoys the absurdity, the unreality of it, or may feel schadenfreude. The person who doesn't find it funny may not find that premise of absurdity and unreality enough to feel schadenfreude rather than empathy. And the person who finds it offensive may not only think it's unfunny for those reasons, but moreover, promoting or normalizing bullying or violence. But not everyone who doesn't find The Three Stooges funny will find it offensive.
To me, 'The Taming of the Shrew' is not only unfunny, it is offensive. I not only don't find the premise funny, I find the follow-through vile. Many of my notes in the margins were 'ew' and 'yuck' when it came to situations that were probably designed to be funny.
In the introduction, the writer makes a point to say that this particular play hasn't done well since Shakespeare's time, even long before the 'era of political correctness' some might claim we now live in, writing: "Only in greatly altered forms did it enjoy stage success through much of the 17th, 18th, and early 19th centuries [...] probably a response to the play's uncanny ability to make audiences of any era uncomfortable." (p.9)
Indeed.
I'll rather let the source material speak for itself here.
1. Petruchio: I am he am born to tame you, Kate, and bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate conformable as other household Kates. (p.59)
2. Petruchio: 'Tis a world to see how tame, when men and women are alone, a meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew. (p.60)
3. Petruchio: Another way I have to man my haggard, to make her come and know her keeper's call [...] She ate no meat today, nor none shall eat. Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not. [...] I'll rail and brawl; and with the clamor keep her still awake. This is a way to kill a wife with kindness, and thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. (p.84)
And then, for the rest of the play, we get to read about how, after not letting her eat or sleep, she indeed becomes his obedient little wifey, which is proven to the audience through a series of scenes depicting the degree to which he's browbeaten her.
In one such scene, they're heading out to return to her father's house for a visit, and he states that it's nighttime even though it's not, she contradicts him, saying it's daytime, and he threatens to not continue on to her father's house and drive them home unless she agrees to say it's nighttime because he says so.
Petruchio: I say it is the moon.
Katharina: I know it is the moon.
Petruchio: Nay, then you lie. It is the blessed sun.
Katharina: Then, God be blest, it is the blessed sun. But sun it is not when you say it is not. [...] What you will have it named, even that it is, and so it shall be so for Katharine. (p.102)
We get this exact 'joke' again one page later. They finally arrive at her father's house, and after a while, she tells Petruchio she wants to go to her sister's wedding feast. He tells her they can only go after she kisses him. She hesitates, saying that kissing in public is embarrassing for her, and he shrugs and says:
"Why, then let's home again."
"Nay, I will give thee a kiss [She kisses him] Now pray thee, love, stay.
"Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate. Better late than never. (p.110)
The piece de resistance comes at the end when he proposes a wager with the other newlyweds over which of their wives is most obedient. The other two men’s wives don't come out from the house when they 'bid' and 'entreat', but Kate comes out dragging the other two when Petruchio 'commands' her to come. But that's not good enough of a show, so he adds:
"I will win my wager better yet, and show more sign of her obedience. [...] Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not. Off with that bauble. Throw it underfoot. [She obeys]. (p.116)
One of the other wives balks at this type of humiliation of a wife, but the other two husbands both express that they wish their wives were as obedient.
Just in case the audience still isn't 'getting' it, we end the play with Petruchio charging Kate to "tell these headstrong women what duty they do owe their lords and husbands." (p.116)
She complies, giving a very long and very sad 'trad-wife' speech about how "thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, and for thy maintenance commits his body to painful labor both by sea and land [...] and craves no other tribute at thy hands but love, fair looks, and true obedience -- too little payment for so great a debt [...] I feel ashamed that women are so simple to offer war where they should kneel for peace." (p.117)
'The Taming of the Shrew' is not a comedy; it's a disturbing account of socially accepted and encouraged domestic abuse leading to Stockholm Syndrome. And it's made even sadder by the fact that so little has changed since the turn of the seventeenth century given the popularity of the 'trad wife' hashtag on TikTok, and the spooky similarity between Kate's speech at the end of the play, and the rhetoric of conservative women now.
So, no, I did not find this play funny, and indeed, I found it offensive and disturbing. It deserves its unpopularity, it should only be read for filth, and a few witty lines scattered throughout do not make it worth reading unless being read critically.
Twelfth Night -- 3
I remember reading this comic-book version of Twelfth Night as a kid, and being really obsessed with the story -- more so than any of the other stories in the series (and I'm pretty sure we had them all).
It's one of those fairly formative experiences; in this case my introduction to Shakespeare was also an introduction to the fluidity of gender. I remember thinking how cool it was that Viola could just put on men's clothes and presto-chango-rearrango become Cesario, a man, in the eyes of everyone else in the play (until of course she, ironically, has to 'come out' as a woman at the end). Disney's 'Mulan' was the second of the 'one-two' punches that solidified this fluidity in my mind as a thing..
All this to say that whatever else one might take away from those two stories, to at least one kid, they were a sort of permission to follow in their respective protagonist's footsteps, though that would come much later on. If I may be so trite: representation matters.
I so loved that picture book version of the story that I developed a sort of aversion to reading the original because I was so afraid that it wouldn't live up to what I wanted from it: to be able to relive that 'aha' moment from so long ago.
And, well, I did indeed find that it didn't quite measure up. It happens.
Specifically, I discovered upon reading the original that I don't much care for most everything happening around Viola's story. I didn't find it thematically very complex as other plays of his are, nor did I find the humor altogether that funny. I may be accused of 'hating fun' but I actually didn't care for some of the set-ups for some of the jokes, namely the entire side-plot revolving around the servants humiliating Olivia's butler (?), Malvolio. Sure, he's not terribly 'merry' (which is a key character trait in this play, and if you don't want to have fun, there's something wrong with you), but the amount of time dedicated to making him look foolish just felt meanspirited.
I appreciated that the very pushy way Orsino went about trying to woo Olivia wasn't ultimately rewarded by her, but it was still, again, kind of unpleasant to have to read scene after scene of him feeling entitled to her love despite the fact that she's made it clear she isn't interested in him.
Much of this is more of an emotional response than a scholarly one, but since it can't be said that Shakespeare is underwritten about in academia, I feel like one is allowed to have a feelings > facts-based review of his work.
That all being said, I will always be appreciative of that picture book series -- it definitely caught me at the right moment in time. And I still think 'Cesario' is a great name.
December 15, 2024
The plays are Shakespeare, but the notes just didn't feel very helpful at all. Really didn't need to be told that a fountain is a spring, or that to charm is to bring about by means of a charm (?!?!?!). There's lots of this throughout, with little in the way of notes that would really supplement one's reading, which is unfortunate. Still Shakespeare though, and in a nice little compact package.
March 5, 2020
Because it has some favourites all bundled together!
March 15, 2023
Relectura... No se olviden que Shakespeare era gran cómico también.
May 15, 2016
Although I did find much of the writing very confusing I loved most of the stories. If it were not for the introductions or the fact that so many movies have been made from his stories, I would have found it extremely difficult/impossible to decipher what Shakespeare was trying to write. Loved the Twelfth Night. I also liked how they added additional stories that were similar to Shakespeares plays and where he may have gotten the influence for his writing.
July 2, 2009
If the damn Complete Shakespeare didn't weigh more than my bicycle and the font size didn't require me to get a better prescription, I would totally get that instead of all these book seperate or in quad-collections...
August 25, 2008
I've been rehearsing this with Theater Down South for nearly a month now.
If anything, this read is a great study in contrasts.
If anything, this read is a great study in contrasts.
July 30, 2010
I only read 'Taming of the Shrew' and 'Merchant of Venice' but I loved them. Shakespeare is really quite amazing, and I really should read more of his writtings.
April 11, 2012
just read the taming of the shrew part...it was ok.
December 1, 2015
Twelfth Night finished on February 12, 1997
May 11, 2016
This book has good plays, but the pages are small and it is difficult to read because of its small font and odd spine/format.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews