Shakespeare: Henry Iv, Part Two Book

We are not wholly bad or good, who live our lives under Milk Wood.

The voices of Dylan Thomas’ Under Milk Wood rise and fall, crashing into each other like waves under a milky moon, their sweet prose an effervescence of sounds and syllables to intoxicate the soul. This ‘play for voices’ follows the lives of the citizens of Milk Wood across a full day, bookmarked by the surrealistically sensational dream sequences of the two nights. The play simply engulfs you in its beautiful embrace, like the warm encompassing feeling of sleep overtaking you under the coziest of blankets with the redolence of summer majesty breezing through an open window. Under Milk Wood offers a unique voyeuristic vantage-point for the reader—or listener—as they see all the hopes and dreams swimming in the hearts of these simple folks and watch them interact with one another. From dark and somber to hilarious and cynical, the spectrum of emotions and existence swings and sways to the vocal rhythm of Thomas’ sharp pen and wit. There is the aging sea captain haunted in dreams by pallid corpses speaking from their watery grave, the wife intent on poisoning her husband, the innocent cruelty of children, the lust of the village strumpet and the condescending remarks of those around her; all walks of life exist in the boundaries of this quiet village that could be any village. It satisfied my thirst for something similar to Woolf’s masterpiece The Waves and filled me with joy during the brief sitting it takes to read this play. Charged by the power of Thomas’ prose, sharpened over a distinguished career as a masterful poet, and alive with the madness and love of life, this ‘play for voices’ is an entertaining and exquisite event to read or listen to.
4.5/5

The only sea I saw
Was the seesaw sea
With you riding on it.
Lie down, lie easy.
Let me shipwreck in your thighs.