rosencrantz and guildenstern

Welcome to Six Damn Fine Degrees. These instalments will be inspired by the idea of six degrees of separation in the loosest sense. The only rule: it connects – in some way – to the previous instalment. So come join us on our weekly foray into interconnectedness.

Even though these days I’m much more about film and TV, there was a time when literature came first for me. I studied English and American Literatures (as it was called at the time), and later I taught the subject. I had much more time – and, frankly, energy – to read a lot… and even better, while working at uni I was paid to read. And teach, do research, supervise and counsel students, do some admin, assist the professor who was supervising my PhD thesis. I didn’t love every single one of those tasks, certainly – but still, it was a very good time for someone who loved books.

It’s also during that time that I started to get into drama in earnest. Our department had a fairly active drama community, and while I never felt 100% comfortable being on stage myself, this is where I discovered how much I enjoy directing. Sadly, that’s something that didn’t survive my move into other professions: like so many, I had a choice between staying in academia, which would have come at a personal price I wasn’t willing to pay, or leaving and doing other kinds of work, and it’s the latter that won out. I miss a lot about my years working at university (and this site and our podcast are to some extent my way of making up for what I left behind), but I never regret the choice itself.

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Each Friday we travel back in time, one year at a time, for a look at some of the cultural goodies that may appear closer than they really are in The Rear-View Mirror. Join us on our weekly journey into the past!

I have this thing where I sometimes prefer a later, arguably derivative variation on a theme to the original. I enjoy Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead considerably more than the Beckett plays it is clearly, heavily inspired by. I find Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns grating and much prefer some takes on Batman that take their inspiration from Miller but do their own thing with it.

Similarly, although in so many ways it looks to Günther Grass’ seminal The Tin Drum (1959), at times almost to the point of plagiarism, I would choose to re-read Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children, published in 1981, over Grass’ novel any day of the week. Have at me, German Studies PhDs!

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