Beware the slings and arrows
It’s a stormy night ... dark too. Helen walks in the rain wondering if she should poison Egret who — to thicken the plot — might be her father. She steps on a snail — ick — “ felt the crack of the shell as it splintered beneath my bare heel” — double ick.
In the meantime, Guy is literally tossing and turning, wracked by nightmares, impaled on a moral dilemma, questioning whether or not he should be part of the conspiracy. He vacillates more than Billy the Bard’s indecisive Dane. He frets and falters more than Lady Macbeth’s tormented husband. Superimposed scene: Macbeth: Is this a dagger I see before me? Guy: The vision of a bloody knife circled in my brain. And hold on till you see the troupe that inadvertently cloaks the actual assassination. One thing’s for certain, you’ll never feel the same about jannies in your kitchen again.
For a short novel, ‘Cupids’ is as dark as the Old Boy’s thrice-charred heart.
Before you go, think of Cupid, Valentine Day’s chubby cherub, with the bow and arrows. He has nothing to do with the novel Cupids. But consider this — the word ‘cupidity’ means excessive desire for wealth; covetousness; avarice.
Do you think any of this stuff I’ve scribbled was in Paul Butler’s mind as he wrote ‘Cupids’? Beats me. Thank you for reading. Beware the slings and arrows of ... whatever.