Mercutio Solicits Comments

[BlackShanglan]

This is aiming for a story from the POV of Mercutio from "Romeo and Juliet." It's partly about slagging off Romeo (as per the title) but mostly about Mercutio and his fraught sexual relations with Romeo, Benvolio, and Tybalt - the latter his real soul match as he realizes a bit too late. This is a draft of the opening few pages.


“Romeo is a Punk-Ass Bitch”
A Few Choice Words from Mercutio, Late of the House of Montague

Ah Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? For that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as much like a whining, puling, punk-ass little bitch.

Oh, I know. You’ve heard it all from him. His grand passion. His burning love. Burning, my clap-ridden piss. He burned for Rosaline, didn’t he? Burned until he whined poor Benvolio’s ears half off his head. And I’ll be fair to Benvolio; he was watered wine, a humble, mewling little vintage, but he was never the thin streak of piss that Romeo was on his best day. “Oh Rosaline, fair Rosaline, sun in the east, light of my eyes” – I swear half the time I only fucked him to put something in his mouth. I still had those moping little cow’s eyes to look at, but at least it shut him up for a while. And the inviolable Rosaline, sworn to a life of chastity – for fuck’s sake. She was sucking my dick five minutes after I slipped through her bedroom window, and she didn’t feel hesitant to me. Of course, she didn’t know whose lips were the last to kiss that rod, now did she? Fucking Romeo. That was the closest he ever got to her, and that’s some comfort to me in the grave.

And who put me in it? The Montagues and their darling lily-white, porcelain-doll, fruit-flavored little boy who should have been selling his ass in the piazza like all of the other whores. It makes me sick to think that I kissed those little Cupid-bow lips. I might as well have licked the floor of a privy.

Now Benvolio – he deserved better. Oh, I rated him whenever I got the chance, and he never had the balls to strike out on his own. But he’d stand his ground when the swords were out, and for a peacemaker he had a wicked way with a blade. I never could figure him out. He could have aimed a hell of a lot higher than tossing me off when I couldn’t score better, but he came back to it again and again. He was a strange one: tough in a fight, the blushingest little maiden you could imagine in any kind of company, and once you got him alone he had a mouth like a ten-ducat whore. He sucked cock like it was a gift from heaven. Fuck, I’m dead and I still get hot at the thought of his tongue swirling under the head of my prick.

I don’t know why I couldn’t just stand by him. He was decent enough, not some little wanna-be girl like that worthless Montague bitch, and he’d do any damned thing I asked him. And I mean anything. The first night I took him it was in an alley with half the watch in the streets nearby. It was carnival, but if he thinks he fooled me with that devil mask, he’s sadly mistaken. Only Benvolio could wear horns, fangs, and fiery red feathers and still manage to look like a donkey in mourning. I knew him half a mile off, and I know damned well he knew me. He’d seen the mask in my chambers the morning before, when he’d come “just to see where Romeo was” and stayed there stumbling all over himself while I finished dressing. Oh, he liked, and I took my time. Long enough that he’d know me in any mask. It’s not all of Verona needs a codpiece made to this kind of measure, and Benvolio did his best to memorize the weight and heft of the family jewels while I was pulling on my hose.

So I knew him. But I wasn’t about to make it easy on him. People who don’t have the balls to face what they want don’t need help staying that way. He wanted to play little mask games; fine. I treated him like I’d treat any other little whore looking for some quick nasty fun in the back alleys, no names given. When he made the pass, I took it; he came up behind me when I’d just finished a piss and put a hand on my shoulder, and I let it stay there. I didn’t bother putting the old broadsword up; hell, I didn’t even bother shaking off. I’ll make you no excuses – I wanted to push him. I wanted to see how badly he wanted it. He wasn’t going to show me his face although he fucking well might have known he could trust me; that pissed me off, and I took it out on him.

And he gave in. Damnit, ‘Volio. Did you always, always have to give in? I might have loved you better if you’d shown some backbone. But no. He went down on his knees, right there in the alley where the wall was still wet, and took my dick in his hands like a treasure. He always had a soft touch. It drove me wild, hot and angry and fierce at once. I’d meant to tease him and really make him beg for it, but suddenly seeing him there looking up at me, his eyes warm and real behind that stupid mask, brought all the blood up in a rush. I pushed my cock at his mouth and grabbed his head in my hands. He opened – when did he ever fail to yield? – and I was in him in an instant, hard as oak and thick as his sword-hilt, deep in the hot moist yield of his mouth. The little slut, he nearly came on the spot. I saw the trembling spasm that ran through him, the way he scrabbled at the cobblestones as I cupped his jaw in my hands and began to fuck his mouth. He just moaned and opened to it, wider, more eager, that hot hungry tongue flickering along the underside of my cock and urging it deeper. I banged his mouth until his whole body shook. Fuck, it was hot watching him there, crouched on his hands and knees in the alley and sucking my cock with his eyes closed and his face lost in rapture. I could have turned him around right then and buried myself in his ass without a word of complaint from him, I’ll bet – and that thought pushed me over the edge. I pushed his head hard down on my cock, stuffing it back into his throat until his nose was nuzzled at the base of my shaft. His throat was hot, tight, quivering, and a second later I was pumping cum down it hard and fast. Benvolio wriggled under my hands, but he wasn’t protesting; he was pushing, harder, hungrier, stuffing me deeper as he swallowed me down. Damn, he was a whore for it, but I loved him for that – the way he never seemed to get enough, the way he lapped cum like it was nectar, the way he groaned and clung to my thighs at the end, and stroked my prick with his tongue to milk the last drops from me. I lie if I say he was anything but one damned sweet lay.

(Rough progression - we'll learn more about Mercutio and Benvolio, find out that Mercutio has had a fling with Romeo before discovering that Romeo pretty much bounces from one "crush" to another and is never constant to anyone. Mercutio's meeting with Tybalt electrifies him because Tybalt stands up to him and has the same passionate temper; Mercutio is sick of Romeo's self-indulgent mooning and Benvolio's endless passivity. In the end, Mercutio gets mired in his own mistakes and ends up deliberately killing himself in his duel with Tybalt after realizing that he's screwed that relationship up beyond retrieval, thanks to Romeo.)

 

[OhMissScarlett]

When you told me you were writing this, I thought it sounded like a great idea, but I couldn't really wrap my mind around how something like this could be told. Well, you've done it in bold technicolor deliciousness.

Lack of archaic language makes it accessible and smooth. In fact, I think it moves quiclky enough to keep someone interested who has never even read Romeo and Juliet. I like Mercutio as this bitter voice from the grave. His knavery makes him no less brave or endearing.

The only place where I felt like I stumbled reading this was here:

People who don’t have the balls to face what they want don’t need help staying that way.

It just felt awkward to me. Feel free to ignore me, it could just be my mushy brain talking.

Otherwise, bravo. I can't wait to read more.

 

[Goldie Munro]

I LOVE it...but...I would have a problem with the fact that Mercutio is narrating but going to die ... how to you propose getting over this? Am I missing something? I often do!

 

[BlackShanglan]

Lack of archaic language makes it accessible and smooth.

Phew. I was wondering if I ought to move a little more toward Elizabethan, and I probably will in revision - just a little color, though. My gut instinct was that I would lose heat and pace if I made the language too distant from contemporary. Also, I felt like I could catch Mercutio's brash, impulsive, trash-talking earthiness better in a more familiar dialect.

That "stumble" does indeed look like a stumble. I tried it another way first, and will try it again to smooth the bugger.

I think I may also tone down Mercutio's bitterness just a bit - if he's going to sustain his voice for what's looking like a longer piece, then I think he needs to be a little more sympathetic - no?

I LOVE it...but...I would have a problem with the fact that Mercutio is narrating but going to die ... how to you propose getting over this? Am I missing something? I often do!

Actually, I'm making him already dead. Here's my draft notes for the ending; it's Mercutio's spirit speaking from the grave:

Closure – damnit, bury me amongst the Capulets. That bastard Romeo lies with his dust mingled with that of his alleged lover – a feeble 14-year-old, suitable fare for that milk-drinking little puppy. Damnit, put me with Tybalt. I have earned this and I damned well deserve it. I feel his ghost uneasy around the edges of my tomb; let us in that we may join together, and have some dream in sleep other than this endless, intolerable rest!

 

[Varian P]

Dearest Shanglan,

Oh my!

This story has many of your usual trademarks—delicious wit, delightful characters, and your own brand of colorful prose among them (and, I suspect, a rich tapestry of Shakespearean allusions that go far beyond showing a different view of his characters). But goodness, you've taken me a bit by surprise with the brazen tone you've adopted for this piece. What fun!

Since you're playing with Shakespeare's characters, it's difficult to avoid seeing further tangents for comparison, though I know I'm about to demonstrate clearly how meager my knowledge is in this area. From what I can recall, though, Shakespeare does have a streak of sharp humor that could run a bit dark, and I sense that you're tapping into this quite effectively. The jibes in Mercutio's monologue thus far are giving me flashbacks to Hamlet's taunting of Polonius. I also sense that you're working Mercutio up to his own tragedy, playing off the tragedy of the original.

These fun games of literary hide and seek aside, I love your premise, and the prose is awfully rich and fun—very playful and dirty and clever.

I realize that this is merely the entrée into the story, and I imagine more fully-wrought sex scenes will be forthcoming, but thus far the sex isn't quite what I'd call 'hot.' Mind, I'm finding the whole premise, the atmosphere, and Mercutio himself, quite sexy—it's all so wonderfully seedy, sordid, and wickedly witty. But the scene between Mercutio and Benvolio seems a bit distant. I love the idea of the encounter—half anonymous, amid the frantic revelry (reminds me of the Mardi Gras scene from Henry and June, a bit), and you've got lots of very erotic imagery. The difficulty (if indeed this is a difficulty—even if I'm at all correct, the distance I perceive may be just what you intended for this particular encounter) may arise from Mercutio's attitude toward Benvolio and the encounter. If M. is jaded and if he's contemptuous of B., the tone of the narrative here makes perfect sense. But for the scene to "do it" for me, personally I need an intensity of emotion—or at least urgent sexual need--that isn't quite here.

I won't dwell on that—as I said, I could be dead wrong, or it could be just what you intended.

Other tiny points:

I stumbled over the same line that got OhMissScarlett.

Also:

For that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as much like a whining, puling, punk-ass little bitch.

Hmmm, I'm probably being too literal (a trap into which I seem to be stumbling repeatedly these days) but, gosh, I thought the simile was going to take me to something I could smell. And I'm not sure I know what a punk-ass little bitch smells like. With Mercutio's knack for lurid descriptors, I rather want you to go for something a bit more bodily here. Just me.

Looking over other comments and your reply, I love that Mercutio is speaking from beyond the grave—again, very Shakespearean. And I think a dash more Elizabethan flavor will add to the fun. You wouldn't need to tone down Mercutio's bitterness to make him more sympathetic a character for me, but I may have an unnaturally high tolerance for jaded rakes. And I LOVE your draft notes for the ending!!!

I'm thrilled to see this nascent story on deck—even at this stage it redolent of the delights to be counted on in any work of yours.

Varian

 

[BlackShanglan]

Ah, dearest Varian. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

No, wait, wrong poet. Damn and blast, I'm off by three centuries. Let me try ...

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate ...

Certainly temperate and exceedingly kind in your always perceant yet gently conveyed insight. Thank you very much for the generous encouragement and nudges on the weak spots.

But goodness, you've taken me a bit by surprise with the brazen tone you've adopted for this piece. What fun!

I think I simply could not stand writing one more story with character who cannot call a cock a cock I've always loved Mercutio and thought him more of a charmer than Romeo, but I see him very much as an earthy, blunt, bodily sort of creature.

I also sense that you're working Mercutio up to his own tragedy, playing off the tragedy of the original.

May all possible blessings light upon you. This is indeed the intent. I'm just hoping that I can do the character some kind of justice.

These fun games of literary hide and seek aside, I love your premise, and the prose is awfully rich and fun—very playful and dirty and clever.

Still working on it - I'd like it to be more clever, but right now I am still in the "throwing down hunks of plot" stage. I've never really shown a story to anyone this early, but I think that Lit has bred an addiction to feedback into me ... dangerous.

I realize that this is merely the entrée into the story, and I imagine more fully-wrought sex scenes will be forthcoming, but thus far the sex isn't quite what I'd call 'hot.' Mind, I'm finding the whole premise, the atmosphere, and Mercutio himself, quite sexy—it's all so wonderfully seedy, sordid, and wickedly witty. But the scene between Mercutio and Benvolio seems a bit distant. I love the idea of the encounter—half anonymous, amid the frantic revelry (reminds me of the Mardi Gras scene from Henry and June, a bit), and you've got lots of very erotic imagery. The difficulty (if indeed this is a difficulty—even if I'm at all correct, the distance I perceive may be just what you intended for this particular encounter) may arise from Mercutio's attitude toward Benvolio and the encounter. If M. is jaded and if he's contemptuous of B., the tone of the narrative here makes perfect sense. But for the scene to "do it" for me, personally I need an intensity of emotion—or at least urgent sexual need--that isn't quite here.

Mmmm excellent point. The motivations you describe - jadedness and contempt for an easy conquest - are indeed meant to be the driving feeling, with the real fire and lust reserved for his eventual attraction to Tybalt. But is the lack of passion or fire in that sex scene offputting enough that I'm going to lose the audience? I want a sense that by the time he meets Tybalt, he's had it with Benvolio and Romeo and sick of the pair of them, and longing for someone more like himself - someone with fire and active impulse. Would it help perhaps to soften him a little with Benvolio and give some sign that he's trying, at first, to find some sort of emotional connection? I'm thinking that shortly after that first sex scene he'll meditate briefly on whether there was ever any real chance that the two of them could have made anything of it - whether the way that first meeting went screwed everything, or whether it was never going to work given their differing natures. Might that help locate the sex scene better, or does that sort of thing need to be actually incorporated in with the action to give it grounding, do you think?

For that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as much like a whining, puling, punk-ass little bitch.

Hmmm, I'm probably being too literal (a trap into which I seem to be stumbling repeatedly these days) but, gosh, I thought the simile was going to take me to something I could smell. And I'm not sure I know what a punk-ass little bitch smells like. With Mercutio's knack for lurid descriptors, I rather want you to go for something a bit more bodily here. Just me.

Damnit, when will I learn not to hope that my readers won't notice flaws I notice? I knew that that made no sense and for some reason tried to keep with it anyway. Grrr. I will sort it. I have a note to myself anyway that the language as it stands is too like the title. Let's get all bodily with it, as you say - good old Will was never shy about such things.

I'm thrilled to see this nascent story on deck—even at this stage it redolent of the delights to be counted on in any work of yours.

Varian

*swoon* Slain in a word.

Shanglan

 

[Varian P]

Mmmm excellent point. The motivations you describe - jadedness and contempt for an easy conquest - are indeed meant to be the driving feeling, with the real fire and lust reserved for his eventual attraction to Tybalt. But is the lack of passion or fire in that sex scene offputting enough that I'm going to lose the audience?

Not in the least--everything's moving along and a brisk clip, yet it's rich in voice and detail. I feel like you're giving us a tease, essentially, and I think you're doing a fine job of creating interest. There just isn't (for me) a payoff at this point. That's not necessarily a problem.

I want a sense that by the time he meets Tybalt, he's had it with Benvolio and Romeo and sick of the pair of them, and longing for someone more like himself - someone with fire and active impulse.

That sounds fine--one would certainly want the contrast between the encounters with those for whom he has distain, and the later scenes with the one who's more meant for him.

Would it help perhaps to soften him a little with Benvolio and give some sign that he's trying, at first, to find some sort of emotional connection? I'm thinking that shortly after that first sex scene he'll meditate briefly on whether there was ever any real chance that the two of them could have made anything of it - whether the way that first meeting went screwed everything, or whether it was never going to work given their differing natures. Might that help locate the sex scene better, or does that sort of thing need to be actually incorporated in with the action to give it grounding, do you think?

I don't think you need to soften him and make the emotion for this scene any more romantic or otherwise positive. For me, a sex scene can be driven by dark emotions and 'work.' Personally (and this is personal to me, so don't take it too much to heart) I require a degree of intensity in the emotion and/or physical dynamics of the encounter. Contempt and disdain are rather cool emotions, and that's what I feel comes across.

You give us this:

He wasn’t going to show me his face although he fucking well might have known he could trust me; that pissed me off, and I took it out on him.

and that portends sex at a pitch that, it seemed to me, didn't quite come through in what followed.

You also give us this:

It drove me wild, hot and angry and fierce at once.

And those are the kinds of emotions that do do it for me, but while you've told us, I don't feel them coming across on a more visceral 'show' level. Mercutio sounds a bit detached, so the encounter feels a tad distant.

I don't know if that's the least bit helpful. I struggled with this a lot through the two latest chapters of my story--a first-hand account of an intense but largely unpleasant sexual encounter. My narrator (my dear Vaughn, whom you know so well) remained distant and detached, even when I tried to bring him in a bit closer in places, so I fear I'm not the one to help you, should you decide this is a problem you'd like to remedy.

Varian

 

[MLyons]

Shanglan,

Excellent stuff.

As others have said, it drew me in even if only for the sheer execution of your beautiful prose. I know that that will probably get refined even further, and I have no doubt that you will make it even better. That's enough by itself for me to want to read it.

I tripped over the same lines that Varian and OhMissScarlett did, so that you can have yet more independent confirmation of that possible problem.

I like Mercutio's strong vioce and attitude, and although I can't speak to the arousal factor of gay male sexual encounters, I would like to address this point:

The motivations you describe - jadedness and contempt for an easy conquest - are indeed meant to be the driving feeling, with the real fire and lust reserved for his eventual attraction to Tybalt. But is the lack of passion or fire in that sex scene offputting enough that I'm going to lose the audience?

If I may venture an answer... no I don't think you'll lose the audience, if only because of the richness of the prose and the creativity of the premise. I think you'll get a lot of early license there with readers.

That said, though, perhaps it might be interesting to take Mercutio on a bit more of a journey than what you've so far laid down. It seems as if, even at the beginning of the story, he had already made up his mind what he wanted. He doesn't want Romeo... It's a bit unclear what he ever saw in Romeo in fact. And Benvolio isn't too far behind, especially by the time we see the encounter with him you've chronicaled here.

Of course, this is all filtered through the point of view of a dead Mercutio, who has already been through everything he's describing, and possibly had time to reflect on it--but it might make the story more immediate and powerful if Mercutio even after he's dead, still hasn't figured everything out yet--with regard to Romeo, Ben and Tybalt. Perhaps the very telling of the story is a discovery in itself.

Maybe not. I don't know.

I think I should stop there. I have a harder time commenting on works in progress like this--especially when there seems like there's alot more to come. Your outline for the rest sounds great to me, and looking at it was partially the inspiration for my thoughts above. If that's not the character of the story you're trying to write--of course your welcome to ignore. I have complete faith that whatever you do will be an enjoyable read in many respects.

 

[BlackShanglan]

Not in the least--everything's moving along and a brisk clip, yet it's rich in voice and detail. I feel like you're giving us a tease, essentially, and I think you're doing a fine job of creating interest. There just isn't (for me) a payoff at this point. That's not necessarily a problem.

Thank you very much. I think that clarifies for me. Sounds like it's working OK, although it has ages and ages to go, of course.

I don't think you need to soften him and make the emotion for this scene any more romantic or otherwise positive. For me, a sex scene can be driven by dark emotions and 'work.' Personally (and this is personal to me, so don't take it too much to heart) I require a degree of intensity in the emotion and/or physical dynamics of the encounter. Contempt and disdain are rather cool emotions, and that's what I feel comes across.

You give us this:

He wasn’t going to show me his face although he fucking well might have known he could trust me; that pissed me off, and I took it out on him.

and that portends sex at a pitch that, it seemed to me, didn't quite come through in what followed.

You also give us this:

It drove me wild, hot and angry and fierce at once.

And those are the kinds of emotions that do do it for me, but while you've told us, I don't feel them coming across on a more visceral 'show' level. Mercutio sounds a bit detached, so the encounter feels a tad distant.

GOT it. Now I see, and you are absolutely right. Sex can come from an angry place, but it needs to be wild, angry sex. Gotcha, gotcha. And thank you. You're completely right. Sometimes it just takes someone to spell it out to me. I can be a trifle thick that way. And this will be both hotter and more gripping if I take it more that way.

As always, my deepest thanks -

Shanglan

 

[BlackShanglan]

MLyons, thanks so much for replying. I really appreciate your feedback. As you know, I've a high opinion of your insight.

I tripped over the same lines that Varian and OhMissScarlett did, so that you can have yet more independent confirmation of that possible problem.

I'm not rating it "possible" any more *laugh* You're all right, and I never thought it was quite right anyway.

That said, though, perhaps it might be interesting to take Mercutio on a bit more of a journey than what you've so far laid down. It seems as if, even at the beginning of the story, he had already made up his mind what he wanted. He doesn't want Romeo... It's a bit unclear what he ever saw in Romeo in fact. And Benvolio isn't too far behind, especially by the time we see the encounter with him you've chronicaled here.

Of course, this is all filtered through the point of view of a dead Mercutio, who has already been through everything he's describing, and possibly had time to reflect on it--but it might make the story more immediate and powerful if Mercutio even after he's dead, still hasn't figured everything out yet--with regard to Romeo, Ben and Tybalt. Perhaps the very telling of the story is a discovery in itself.

I like that idea very much, and in fact am trying to go more that way. I agree with you absolutely. I'm trying to decide whether to add more before or after that sex scene ... that is, do I preface and contextualize it, or do I hook the reader with the action and then explain? I'm mulling. But absolutely, and fear not. There's a lot more emotional groundwork going down.

I think I should stop there. I have a harder time commenting on works in progress like this--especially when there seems like there's alot more to come. Your outline for the rest sounds great to me, and looking at it was partially the inspiration for my thoughts above. If that's not the character of the story you're trying to write--of course your welcome to ignore. I have complete faith that whatever you do will be an enjoyable read in many respects.

No, you're bang on the money. I think you'll like where it's headed if I can get the time to work on it!

Shanglan

 

[MissFroggy]

I really did enjoy this quite a lot and am looking forward to seeing more.

There were a couple sentences that were a little bit awkward to read - but other respondents have mentioned them, so no need to harp on this.

I do like that the archaic language is kept at a minimum, as others have mentioned. It kept me immersed in the story since I didn't have to refer to reference guides to figure out what's going on.