Young Writers Society

(Note: A Shakespearean parody. When I say "parody," I mean inspired by Hamlet's soliloquy in Shakespeare's Hamlet. I was required to write this in English class last year and realized this was in need of some explanation.)

To sing, or not to sing; that is the question:

Whether ‘tis socially adequate to remain silent

And stand the uneasy sulk of society,

Or to burst into song and fill the air,

And by erupting suddenly, and break the silence.

To vocalize; to bombard the atmosphere;

No more; and warbling to say I corrupted

The awkward semblance of society

That fills the order of the world

is easily corrupted by song.

To sing, to serenade,

To sing, perhaps too loud. Ay, there’s dilemma.

For in singing loudly aristocrats turn their attention towards you,

When we have shattered the calm,

We must catch our breath before the next note:

There’s the melody

That’s what makes the theory tiresome.

For who would confront the audience,

The fright of performance,

The suspense of perfection,

The musician’s accidental foul keys and chords,

The pointed stares of onlookers,

The spectating critics, waiting for errors,

When they themselves were once in the limelight

awaiting the verdict of expectant admirers.

Who would toil away at theory,

To exercise vocal chords hours a day,

But the dread of imperfection and failure in public,

The forgotten scales and cadenzas which are

Scoffed upon by masters

While we listen without a second thought,

Wondering what astonishment will follow

In place of hearkening for blunders?

Thus the beauty of song does make enthusiasts of us all;

And thus the glamour of music

Is spoiled by the unneeded nitpicks,

And gentle cadences of emotion and fervor

With this regard are ended abruptly,

And lose the swelling harmony.