I first read Marlowe's The Jew of Malta in 1975, in my first year at university. I grasped the flavour of the play, but not the detail. I just didn't have a clue as to how it would work on stage.
Some five decades on, after having just completed a second reading, I have a much better idea as to how the drama might play out. I suppose having a bit more direct theatrical experience helps in visualising various scenes. But I still feel the need to see the thing on stage to make it real.
The flavour remains the same, though. Simple really. A bracingly bleak look at humanity at its considerable worst. Gloriously, disturbingly amoral. And very, very funny. Plus, fizzing with cheerfully manic energy. To be honest, I much prefer Marlowe to very early Shakespeare. And I suspect it's a lot more fun to play Barabas than it is Shylock.
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