There are many answers to the question Why Shakespeare. One explanation we use in teaching Shakespeare to youth is that Shakespeare’s plays are mirrors – you will recognize yourself and people you know in all of his plays. And once the language is decoded, it is like cracking a safe that opens the door to a new reality – a mental magic kingdom.

When one succeeds in firing the imagination of a child, nothing can quench that enthusiasm – and when one fails, nothing can ignite it. To the child to whom he is introduced as A Very Important Man, indeed, Shakespeare may well remain a distant and impenetrable stranger. To the child fortunate enough to be introduced to him by the right channels, Shakespeare has every chance of being a friend for life.
Richard Monette, Artistic Dir. Stratford Festival

This excerpt from Patsy Rodenburg’s book, SPEAKING SHAKESPEARE, says it all:

Communication
Many of our habits today are about non-communication. Perhaps we don’t trust what we say or believe that others are listening. We’re often frightened of committing to any powerful idea or passionate feeling. Our communication grows indirect, surrounded by an aura of studied casualness; we hesitate and mumble; we rely more and more on glibness, cynicism or denial.

This is not the energy at the heart of Shakespeare’s world.

The world Shakespeare creates is full of inquisitive speakers and attentive listeners. His characters use their language to connect to the world, not to hide from it. They use it to survive, to probe, to explore, to quest. They are not afraid of profound expression. If they mock, it is direct and to the point, not under their breath. His is a world where everything appears new and interesting; where people enjoy speaking; where passion is attractive as opposed to faintly absurd. His characters’ ears are twitching; their eyes are wide open, not glazed. It is in their best interest to be alert. They have to listen very carefully if they are to negotiate and survive the scenarios he puts them in.

In preparation for this whole directness in Shakespeare, I encourage my students to own what they think and say. So, “I’m quite scared.” Or “I’m quite shocked” has to be shifted into “I am scared” or “I am shocked.” Equally, “I feel, like, sad” and “I feel, like, happy,” will be more connected and direct when the like is dropped.

On the most basic level, non-communication and inattention lead to underdeveloped muscles of voice and speech, flabby thinking and passion crusted over with rust. They lead to mumbled sentences and swallowed words, to inaudibility and the destruction of the iambic. They’re matched by a physical coolness or shuffling: a completely unreal stance for anyone trying to engage us with real curiosity and feeling.

When we are heightened, when we need to communicate in order to protect or survive, we do so with real passion and urgency. We cannot afford to be unclear, reticent or imprecise.

We may range from extremely sophisticated language to very crude utterances, but our words are active and formed through an acute need and their structure is built with equal care.

This heightened state is the state that Shakespeare is interested in. In Shakespeare, characters speak to survive.

Perhaps the only bridge you have to cross in order to relate to your own heightened awareness to that of Shakespeare is to understand that his characters explore these moments by voicing them clearly through precise and poetic language formed under pressure with full and equal attention to the world outside them.

Patsy Rodenburg, Speaking Shakespeare