Of the five major Shakespearean tragedies-Hamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, and Othello-King Lear is perhaps the most challenging. Issues of rulership, family and blood, are overlaid with bastardy, loyalty, lust, and deceit. Add to this the apparently gratuitous on-stage blinding of Gloucester, the deaths of Cordelia, Lear, Gloucester, and Kent, and one might be inclined to agree with Samuel Johnson that "The good suffer more than the evil, that love and suffering, in this play, are almost interchangeable terms and the driving force of the action is derived from the power of the evil to inflict mental agony upon the good" (quoted in Kermode, 505). However, one would be mistaken to accept wholeheartedly the happy endings of the eighteenth and nineteenth century revisionists. While the pleasant ending would certainly ease the sensibilities of the audience, it would omit the Aristotlean concepts of hamartia and the purgation of fear and pity attendant upon actually witnessing Shakespeare's King Lear, the necessary catharsis, a possible scapegoat for our own emotions. Of course, the ending is to some extent unpleasant and even shocking; however, one can argue that the ending is organic to the play; the ending IS, to a great extent, the play.

The Merchant of Venice is problematic. Not only does it present the disparate and unrelated stories of the caskets and the trial for a pound of flesh, but it challenges contemporary audiences to evaluate the treatment of Jews and what constitutes justice. The character of Shylock, although presented as an object of ridicule and even comedy to Shakespeare's patrons, might even be considered tragic to one sensitive to injustice. In fact the implied definition of justice is challenging: what justice is represented by a forced conversion from one belief to another? The definition of friendship between Antonio and Bassanio is itself quite satisfying; Bassanio at one point says he would sacrifice his wife for the friendship (IV.i.292-97) which naturally Portia bridles at. The character of Portia, herself, is also challenging. While intelligent, rich, and beautiful, she behaves questionably when she deliberately entraps Bassanio-her affianced lover-into ostensibly betraying her by giving away her ring and then apparently treating the whole incident as a joke. Surely Bassanio is entitled to a modicum of resentment if not anger. Additionally, she entices Nerissa to do the same with Gratiano. While this scene (V.ii) would evoke great laughter from an audience who is in on the joke, to a modern-thinking person, it smacks of sexism: ridicule the male at his expense and make fun of him for his resentment. Of course, the groundlings would pay no attention to such an offense. It seems clear that The Merchant of Venice today demands re-interpretation and re-definition.

Of the five major Shakespearean tragedies-Hamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, and Othello-Macbeth is in some ways the most accessible. For one it is the shortest. For another the witches continue to attract audiences just as they did during Elizabethan times. In addition he cinematographic approach of the last act-cutting easily from scene to scene-works as well as it did in Shakespeare's time. Thus, the play is a natural to introduce students to the Shakespeare canon. Probably it doesn't rival Romeo and Juliet in popularity with students or Julius Caesar with teachers, but nevertheless it is a finished, representative work of the best of William Shakespeare. In addition the main theme-ambition-one which is relevant to Americans today, can be witnessed again and again, especially during our quadrennial presidential elections. "I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent," Macbeth muses; there are those seeking to attract the public eye for whom this statement applies equally well. I cannot say I enjoyed reading Macbeth the first time. It was an assignment and, as do many students, I disliked having to read the play. However, over the years of teaching the play and re-reading it-by choice-I have come to regard the play with respect and simultaneously admiration for the playwright. The play communicates its own special numen. Macbeth is the most tightly unified of the Shakespearean tragedies, and it is filled with major themes-ambition, definition of character, allegiance to one's state and king- and some which may be regarded as minor-sleep, drink, and humor. None of them could be sacrificed as together they make a unity of approach meant to satisfy the general audience and the groundlings. As one who has a foot in both camps, I believe the play is a masterpiece.

It is probably natural that a reader feel sympathy for Desdemona; falsely accused, she suffers some of the most offensive name-calling in all of Shakespeare. But it is also appropriate to sympathize with Othello. He becomes malleable in the hands of Iago who molds him to his own vindictive purpose, never disclosing his reasons. Additionally, one should admire Emilia who is truly heroic in her denial of the accusations against Desdemona, her resistance to her husband's subjugation of her, and in her triumphant realization of justice and punishment for wrongdoing.

Alexandria Hodgeman represents a composite of many people I have known, Catholic and non-Catholic, senior citizens and middle-aged. Her search for definition--for the meaning of her life--I intend as the type of search anyone ought to be pursuing, especially someone who is eighty-nine years old. Her wisdom is the concomitant of her advanced years. However, I doubt that she would permit me or anyone else to call her old. Despite the challenges of advanced years, she still thinks like a young person, remaining optimistic while searching for answers.

Alexandria's life has been lived in service to others, despite her lack of total awareness of this. She would modestly protest against anyone offering her thanks or recognition, deserved though they are. Although certainly not a model, Alexandria is intended as a positive example of what one person can do, what one person can accomplish for others while simultaneously serving her God.

Like many writers, I suppose I have an idealized picture of the past, of my youth, when everything was green and golden and all the calves sang to my huntsman's horn. All the potential was ours, all that mattered was the immediate present, and the future belonged to some non-threatening, never-to-be-achieved time when we might--God forfend--actually get older. So here it is--my paean to my youth--long gone--but never--oh dear Lord above protect us in our innocence and naivete--never to be forgotten.

To a contemporary feminist, The Taming of the Shrew is surely anathema. A strong woman is shown to be easily manipulated and ends up subjugated by a somewhat insensitive and boorish man. Yet, despite the real objections, the play has been popular for centuries in itself, in adaptations (Tamed and How, or The Push), and a wildly popular musical (Kiss Me, Kate). Thus, one may be forced to concede that there is an element here that transcends the knockabout, slapstick humor. Something here, as in most of Shakespeare, transcends the literal, causing audiences to continue to enjoy the basic premise and the argumentum ad absurdum. In a sense the contretemps between Petruchio and Katherine predicts the antagonistic love-making of Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. Finally, despite their sexist natures, both plays are intellectually and emotionally satisfying.

Much Ado About Nothing is a delightful play which pits two intelligent, thinking people against each other, both of whom protest against love (and each other), but who finally come to embrace the other both literally and emotionally. The contretemps between Beatrice and Benedick is emotionally and intellectually satisfying, partially because the audience is included on the joke but also because it is rewarding to see two strong, independent personalities realize they are incomplete. The sub-plot of Hero's accusation and final denouement is less satisfying as the accusation is patently unfair. However, as Shakespeare reminded us another time, all's well that ends well.

Among teenagers Romeo and Juliet appears to be the most popular of the Shakespeare tragedies. Perhaps this is because of the age of the protagonists. I suspect it is something far deeper than that, however. The depth of passion evinced by both Romeo and Juliet is familiar to most adolescents, and their isolation from the world of adults is also recognized by contemporary teens. Capulet's ranting when dealing with Juliet's nascent independence is no doubt familiar to today's sons and daughters. Thus, it seems Shakespeare continues to speak a universal language; this, I believe, accounts for the continued popularity of the work.

The impetus for The Meditation of My Heart came fifty years ago when I was awarded a scholarship to Creighton Preparatory School in Omaha, Nebraska which I attended for just over a week. For it was with some dismay that I discovered the life of the contemplative was not for me. Although Sister Mary Teracita had tried to communicate to me that a call to serve was not to be taken lightly, that it demanded rigor both intellectually and spiritually, I really didn't know what a call meant. However, my time as an altar boy and lay reader has served me over these intervening years so that today, perhaps, I do appreciate more fully the demands of a life of service in the interest of religion. While such a life is extremely personal, the contemplative also lives a life on public display, an apparent contradiction one is forced to accept. I admire anyone who can do this successfully.

In only two plays-The Comedy of Errors and The Tempest--does Shakespeare observe the unities of time, action, and place. While these apparent constraints seem to restrict the playwright, they also demonstrate an artistry that transcends the apparent restrictions, especially in The Tempest. The added themes of justice satisfied and of young love realized make for a satisfying blend of artistry and stagecraft.