Before it was a play, "Romeo and Juliet" was a poem, first in Italian, then in French, and finally in English. And now it's a poem once again: a sword-and-cell-phone novel-in-verse that's bawdy, eccentric, a little kinky, a bit queer, and very funny.
In a city where right-handed people have long oppressed left-handers, Romeo of Montaright and Juliet of Capuleft fall in love, and their cousins Ben, Ty, and Rosalyn, along with their friend Merk, have to navigate the complexities of prejudice and desire in order to bring the lovers together and sort out their own platonic and romantic entanglements with a minimum of projectile vomiting.
Before it was a play, "Romeo and Juliet" was a poem, first in Italian, then in French, and finally in English. And now it's a poem once again: a sword-and-cell-phone novel-in-verse that's bawdy, eccentric, a little kinky, a bit queer, and very funny.
In a city where right-handed people have long oppressed left-handers, Romeo of Montaright and Juliet of Capuleft fall in love, and their cousins Ben, Ty, and Rosalyn, along with their friend Merk, have to navigate the complexities of prejudice and desire in order to bring the lovers together and sort out their own platonic and romantic entanglements with a minimum of projectile vomiting.
Young Ben of high clan Montaright strolls down
the mall, surveying all protectively.
His muscles bulge beneath his uniform
whereon there gleams a badge, "SecuriRight",
protector of the weak... if they can pay.
His truncheon on his hip hangs by his sword,
and handcuffs dangle from his belt as well.
A microphone is clipped upon his shirt
so he can keep in touch with other cops
in case they need assistance. Ben does not:
he's blonde and buff, crew-cut, a tough young man
who knows the merchants of the mall all count
on him to keep them safe from leftward hands
that otherwise would raid and loot and steal.
The job was made quite plain in basic training
when Sergeant Tobbs announced their mission clear:
"A'right you fornicatin' plugs, now hear!
You're mall cops, boys, god help us all! You need
to get it through your tiny little skulls
the awful truth: the lefty ain't your friend!
I know you've all been taught it's differ'nt now
and left and right are lovey-dovey-do.
That's how the Prince would like it all to be,
despite the fighting in the streets: a few
bad apples it's supposed to be, that's it.
But Tobbs is here to tell the honest truth:
the left hand is a filthy dirty vile
appendage, better suited to the task
of wiping off yer turd-emblazoned bums
like your mommies used to do last week
when you were all still snivelling little beasts,
a lower kind of scum than you are now!"
Ben heard and he obeyed this lesson hard
although in fact he'd learned it wasn't so:
the thieves he caught were right more oft than not,
but lefties were more fun, as now: he could
show off his badge to this soft lefty girl,
not tall but nicely rounded for all that,
caught in the act of filching something small.
"Now come along, you're going to the cells!"
Such a flash of fear and admiration
from her wide faux-innocent young eyes
as she took in his breadth and manly strength
the power of his swagger and his badge;
he took her arm and turned her right around,
breathing in the scent of her clean hair
while noticing beneath her simple dress
no stay impeded nature's bounty there.
"I'll come along, good sir," her voice was soft
and held a hint, a promise, of desire
which lifted Ben's young heart, all temptrest-tost
by the burning of forbidden fires.
"It's not against their will but just a choice,"
old Tobbs had muttered once while deep in cups.
"They throws themselves fair at us, girls and boys.
More than a man can do to just say no."
So Ben had learned, and now he had a choice
as on he snapped steel cuffs around soft wrists
and marched her down the corridor to where
a man might steal a wanton, willing kiss,
or take by force what never should be torn
unwillingly away from sovereign form.
He held her for a moment, looking down
into those eyes so open, deep and wide
while behind the heavy door clicked shut
and then he made his move, and then she sighed,
"You'll leave the handcuffs on this time, alright?"
Having studied a lot of Shakespeare at school I wasnât sure Iâd like a modern take on this famous story. Itâs such a famous tale that how can anyone really do a good retelling? Surely modern retakes have been done to death in films already?
While the language TJ Radcliffe uses echoes that of Shakespeareâs rhythmic poetry, the Capuleft and Montaright story is indeed modern in setting. It is also not so flowery and archaic that the story is easy to follow and a pleasure to read:
âMuch later at the end of his long shift
Ben packed his gear away in banging lockers
thinking on her hot and eager kiss
when first he had discovered her, a shocker
for his truly innocent young mind!â
I really enjoyed reading this tale, it reminded me of Phillip Larkin poetry, really urban and gritty but still paying close attention to poetic form and keen to closely imitate Shakespeareâs language.
âBen pressed ahead, dodging flying missiles
thrown from hands uncaring who they hit
so long as they could vent their righteous anger
across the vivid air of summer dusk.â
The story is definitely bawdy and feisty and Iâd definitely recommend reading this for any poetry lover, whether you are a lover of Shakespeare or not.
The story isnât identical and I wonât give plot spoilers so definitely go and read this and enjoy the use of language, imagery and a modern portrayal of star crossed lovers.
âShe felt the pull of gravity, but still
held tight onto propriety, and yet
like a planet that has been perturbed
by the passing of a nearby star
she felt her orbit âround the steady sun
of everyday behaviour was disturbed.
What were his words? âFor who would say that
all we really need is just a little less
of love, and more of hate?â Oh yes, perturbed.â