Sometimes I wish I could sit down and just read a book. Just one book, by itself, with no research or note-taking or conversation or reviews. Just the book.

I haven’t gotten much further in McAlindon because I haven’t finished the background reading. The book studies Henry IV parts 1 and 2, so I thought I’d just read the SparkNotes to get myself up to speed. Then I thought, he’s going to go into more detail than the SparkNotes do, and I haven’t read the plays, so I should do that too.

I’ve wound up with about 12 hours of reading to understand a 200-page study. And I had to quit there because it’d be better to read the tetralogy (Richard II, Henry IV Part 1, Henry IV Part 2, and Henry V) for the full context, but the McAlindon book has to go back to the library on November 4 and I haven’t yet touched the other books I borrowed.

Shakespeare’s plays really do not lend themselves to New Criticism. Then again, much as I like New Criticism, that’s one of the things I love about Shakespeare.

I usually leave work for lunch, but today I found myself in the break room for an hour. I brought a book: Shakespeare’s Tudor history : a study of Henry IV, parts 1 and 2 by Tom McAlindon. As I sat turning the fresh white pages and taking bites of microwave Thai noodles, I almost felt like a student again. (I miss college. College was nice and safe.)

I’ve all but decided to attend graduate school to study Shakespeare. I haven’t submitted any applications yet, but the almost-decision has had some interesting repercussions. This site, for example, is about to get a lot heavier on Bard-related content. Since it’s a bit late to cram in test-taking and statement-writing before the deadlines start whizzing past, I’m going to spend the year between now and the next application season doing some serious work. (Besides, the New York Times said it was okay.) Tonight’s question: Is Shakespeare’s “text” the printed page, or the three-dimensional play as it is acted? Which should critics be interpreting?

On my last trip to the library I picked up some criticism, McAlindon included, and I’ve subscribed to a listserv as a first step in getting professionally involved. In the Shakespeare class I took during my last semester at Ferris, my professor suggested I follow up on a question I had and form that into an article to submit for publication. He suggested Notes and Queries. I checked out the journal and was sure he overestimated my ability, but hadn’t done much work on the article. That’s one of the things I intend to change.

So, when I read McAlindon today, I didn’t only note what he thought of Henry IV. I looked at the way he structured the book, placing a critical history in the first part and several close readings in the second. I wrote down key phrases and — the difference from my undergrad notetaking — who coined them and how they were used. I checked out his theoretical position and noticed how he phrased his disclaimer and how he expected readers to disagree with him, to see what the major issues are in the field and how at least one writer addresses them.

And that was only the preface.

I flatter myself that I’m becoming a clueful individual; by the end of this coming year, I might even be ready for grad school.