Oh dear. I’m not going to say that I hate this masterpiece of a classic. It’s more like a stockholm syndrome thing where, by the time you get to the end of it you’ve pieced the bits together, but you’re kinda too exhausted to care. The title is from Macbeth, because of course it is. “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an […]