Doubt that the sun doth move.

Doubt that the sun doth move.

Don’t tell anyone but I’m a little bit of a glosser. I can easily gloss right over lines like this. I’m a big batch organizer, I guess. As in, I read a couple of lines in what is meant to be a love poem, put them in the box marked “love poetry” and dismiss them with, “Yeah, yeah, standard poem, Next!”
I have been known to do this when reading novels, as well, especially with descriptions, nature particularly. Give me a detailed description of the wheat bending in the wind across the plains and I batch it up with – Nature. Wheat. Wind. Next!
Which is partly why I’m doing this project because it is with this discipline that I catch my short-cuts. Thinking about the science of doubting the stars and the sun raises a whole host of questions about what in the heck Hamlet is up to in this poem, if in fact, he wrote in it the first place. It does not read: Doubt the existence of stars. Doubt the existence of the sun. Doubt the existence of truth. This is the sort of standard batching way I read it. Yeah, yeah. Stars. Sun. Truth. Love. It points at all of those things in a world where all of those things are newly questionable. Including Hamlet’s love.

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