In March, I put out a note on Macbeth.  In listening to it again the other night, I jotted the following four notes in my Commonplace Book.

Its structure reminds me of Tosca or La Bohème.  It crests in a way that the text cannot recover.  At about 3.4.  (I see I had made a similar remark before.)

Banquo and Brutus have something in common.  They are too decent to succeed in the politics of blood.

The fascination lies in the comparative graphs of the psychopathy of Macbeth and his wife.  Her dissolution may be more ‘tragic’ – a fraught term – than the Richard III-like descent of Macbeth.  In the argot of our time, she could talk the talk, but not walk the walk.  Macbeth will go down like Don Giovanni.

As in other tragedies of this playwright, the poetry is so riveting that it is more like an opera than a straight play in the theatre.