Bad Sex in Fiction award voor Shakespeare?

Vroe­ge Mid­del­eeu­wen:
Enig over­ge­ble­ven frag­ment uit oer­ver­sie Romeo & Juliet => Rode­wijn & Ani­ta
Popu­lai­re raam­ver­tel­ling die gewoon­lijk in de late uur­tjes werd voor­ge­dra­gen:

Hé meis­je!, zeg meis­je, ben je al een beet­je nat
rit­sie­pie rit­sie­pa rit­sie­poe
Een har­de lul die is gemaakt om mee te pom­pen
fal­de­rie, fal­de­ra

1590–1592:
Sha­ke­spe­a­re is onder de indruk geraakt van de poë­ti­sche schoon­heid en tra­giek in het Rode­wijk & Ani­ta ver­haal, en maakt een eer­ste engel­se ver­sie van Romeo & Juliet:

Here is the sto­ry of a real cool dude. Romeo’s his label, and he sho’ ain’t cru­de.
He went to a par­ty whe­re he wasn’t sup­po­sed to. He fell for a gal that he dan­ced real clo­se to.
Juliet, Juliet, yeah man.
The priest and the nur­se, they got the two together. They built ‘em a nest, like bir­ds of a fea­ther.
The pro­blem was the old man and old lady didn’t want Romeo to be her matey.
Capu­let, Mon­ta­gue, no man.
So he got in a fight with a real rough cat He kil­led him dead, and that was that.
The trou­ble was the dude was Juliet’s kin, And we all know blood’s thic­ker than skin.
Tybalt, Tybalt, po’ man.
The priest and the nur­se hat­ched ‘em a plan to fool Ver­o­na; Julie takes a pill, and they think she’s a goner.
The pro­blem was Romeo’s a loner. He got kick­ed out­ta town by the dudes of Ver­o­na.
Romeo, Romeo, whe­re you be? Yo, Man­tua by the sea.
He gets a mes­sa­ge the wrong way straight. He rides to Ver­o­na to see his mate.
When he arri­ves, he thinks he’s late; So he slays the Fren­ch­man and opens the gate.
Paris, Paris, po’ man.
He sees his chick taking a nap; He gets real fon­ky and starts to rap.
He takes out the poi­son and drinks it real quick; He ends his life to be with his chick.
Romeo, Romeo, po’ man.
The priest comes in way too late, He sees all the blood near the gate.
Julie yawns and she sits up straight; She spies the priest and asks for her mate,
“Romeo, Romeo, whe­re you be?”
“Lord, Child, can’t you see? Your dude is dead! No mo’ mis­ter! I’ll take you away and make you a sis­ter!”
Juliet, Juliet, po’ gal.
She sends him away. She says she won’t go. She picks up the cup and throws it on the flo’.
She gives her man a lon­ging kiss. She grabs his knife and dies in bliss.
Juliet, Juliet, po’ gal.
Now the Mon­ta­gues and Capu­lets, they made their pea­ce; They rai­sed up some sta­tu­es to show their grief.
For never was a sto­ry of more woe Than this one here of Juliet and Romeo.

1593:
Sha­ke­spe­a­re besluit de eer­ste ver­sie te bewer­ken nadat hij er niet in slaagt om in de top-10 charts van de hit­pa­ra­de te komen. Hij gooit het over een ande­re boeg om een gro­te­re doel­groep te berei­ken. Het nu vol­gen­de frag­ment is exem­pla­risch:

Romeo comes over and pus­hes me gent­ly back down on the fake fur. I try to rise up to kiss him – it’s so love­ly, the kis­sing – but he pus­hes me down, again. He likes to kiss me all over befo­re he does any­thing else. He starts with my eyes, and plants a ten­der kiss on each lid.
… He moves on to my ears, a kiss that makes my nip­ples stand erect, and me emit litt­le moans that drown out to my own ears the loud, dis­trac­ting sound of Cum­ber­batch swi­ping dock lea­ves and tea­ring nett­les and long gras­ses very clo­se to the ric­ke­ty stoop. Romeo’s hands are cares­sing my bre­asts, now, and I am allo­wed to kiss him back, but not for long, for he breaks off, to give each bre­ast the atten­ti­on it deser­ves. As he nib­bles and pulls with his mouth, his hands find my bush, and with light fin­gers he flut­ters about the­re, as if he is a moth cau­ght insi­de a lamp­sha­de.
Almost screa­ming after five ago­ni­zin­gly plea­su­ra­ble minu­tes, I make a grab, to put him, now angri­ly slap­ping against both our bel­lies, insi­de, but he holds both by arms down, and puts his ton­gue to my core, like a cat lap­ping up a dish of cream so as not to miss a sin­gle drop. I find myself grip­ping his ears and tug­ging at the locks cur­ling over them, besi­de myself, and a stran­ge ani­mal noi­se esca­pes from me as the moun­ting, thun­de­ring cres­cen­do over­ta­kes me.

1594:
Na een span­nen­de eind­strijd wint Sha­ke­spe­a­re the Bad Sex Fic­ti­on award met boven­staan­de scè­ne. Dit is aan­lei­ding voor hem om voor een laat­ste keer essen­ti­ë­le onder­de­len te her­schrij­ven.

1597:
Defi­ni­tie­ve publi­ca­tie van Romeo & Juliet:


Act 1, Sce­ne 5

ROMEO [To JULIET.]
If I pro­fa­ne with my unwort­hiest hand
This holy shri­ne, the gent­le sin is this:
My lips, two blus­hing pil­grims, rea­dy stand
To smooth that rough touch with a ten­der kiss.
JULIET
Good pil­grim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which man­ner­ly devo­ti­on shows in this;
For saints have hands that pil­grims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy pal­mers’ kiss.
ROMEO
Have not saints lips, and holy pal­mers too?
JULIET
Ay, pil­grim, lips that they must use in pray­er.
ROMEO
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray — grant thou, lest faith turn to des­pair.
JULIET
Saints do not move, though grant for pray­ers’ sake.
ROMEO
Then move not, whi­le my prayer’s effect I take.
[Kis­ses her.]
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is pur­ged.
JULIET
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
ROMEO
Sin from thy lips? O tres­pass sweet­ly urged!
Give me my sin again.
[Kis­ses her.]
JULIET
You kiss by th’ book.

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Geïn­spi­reerd door Rachel John­son, die dit jaar (2008) de Bad Sex in Fic­ti­on Award heeft gewon­nen. Het is haar win­nen­de stuk­je tekst dat hier­bo­ven is gebruikt.

John Updi­ke heeft trou­wens een eer­vol­le ver­mel­ding voor z’n gehe­le oeu­vre gekre­gen.

Voor de vol­le­dig­heid ver­meld ik nog dat Romeo’s Rap geschre­ven is door Pat Alva­ra­do en de oer­ver­sie van Rode­wijn & Ani­ta is natuur­lijk her­ken­baar als een ech­te Hans Teeu­wen tekst.

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Er schuilt geen ech­te kok in mij — en daar ben ik blij om!
Alter Ego in Second Hyves – Wie ben ik?