Strength and Frailty

I’ve finished Romeo and Juliet. It’s not like reading other books. I have to stop sometimes and read the lines again, and then think about what Mr. Shakespeare is saying.

I’m glad Honey Moran told me to read the Sonnets first. It made it easier to understand the plays. Mrs. Doyle told Mama she heard Honey Moran was hitting the bottle. I think that means she’s drinking and I hope Mrs. Doyle is wrong. I heard Mama tell Uncle Pat that Mrs. Doyle knew someone who saw Honey when she was under the weather. I don’t like Mrs. Doyle. She always smiles at people and then tells nasty stories when they walk away.

I was going to start Macbeth because that’s what Kathleen said I should do, but Hamlet is about families, too; a son and his Mother so I read that next. Kathleen told me it was her Father’s favorite play by Mr. Shakespeare, and he always teased her Mother with the line about “Frailty, Thy Name is Woman.”

I don’t think Mr. Shakespeare was right about women. Although he may have just been talking about Hamlet’s Mother. All the women I know are strong even Aunt Meg. Shes very strong because she never complains no matter how hard she works. Even when her brothers are very grouchy, and Pop Delaney comes downstairs and complains to Mama because she takes so long doing the shopping. Aunt Meg never lets anyone know she is sad. I can tell because I watch her a lot, but it’s our secret, and I don’t tell anyone else.

The ladies who live on the block look weak especially when they sit by their windows leaning on their big pillows, but they’re really guarding everyone and making sure none of the kids in the street or their neighbors are doing anything bad. When they get dressed up on Sunday, they wear silk dresses with little flowers in the material and their hair has tight little curls. They all look pretty because they are wearing rouge and lipstick when they walk up the street to Church. During the week they keep the houses clean and cook the dinners and make the children behave. Sometimes I think they even decide who marries who, but I’m really not sure about that. The men never speak loudly or call out the windows or even get very angry, and I never hear any of them talk about each other, but all the women do.

Sometimes I watch the people on the block, and it’s almost like a play and everyone is in costume. The women look pliable and pretty, but they are really in disguise because they are strong inside. And the men are tall and silent, but most of them are kind of frightened and do exactly what their Mothers and Wives want. Maybe Mr. Shakespeare lived in a different kind of neighborhood, but I think if I were to describe the women I know, I would say, “Strength, Thy Name is Woman,” not Frailty.