When I first encountered Shakespeare at school I wasn’t impressed.

All that thee, thou and thine, it was another language, a ridiculous one which I did not understand.

We would sit in class and take turns to read parts, each of us delivering the lines in a bored monotone. I got the impression that the teacher, too, found it as dull as ditch water.

We were studying Twelfth Night for o-level (GCSE to the kids of today), which was supposed to be a comedy, but the only laughs came when the bell rang and we all raced to be the first to leave the classroom.

I thought it was crushingly tedious and said as much to my dad, who immediately set out to defend the Bard, telling me that Shakespeare was anything but boring and insisted that I read more to appreciate it.

The class then moved on to Macbeth, and, again, we all took parts, but never really understood what was going on. Characters were fighting and dying and going mad, but I didn’t really know why.

We were taken to see Macbeth at York Theatre Royal, and I remember being bored rigid. At that stage I didn’t anticipate studying English literature for A-level.

York Press: Anything but boring: Michael Fassbender in the recent film of Macbeth

The turning point for me came on a trip to the cinema to see Roman Polanski’s film version of Macbeth. I was gripped from start to finish, and though almost 40 years have passed since then, I still clearly remember the graphic scenes of violence and passion.

I changed my mind about Shakespeare overnight - much to the irritation of my dad, that it took a bloodthirsty blockbuster movie to do so - and began to enjoy lessons and take my time with essays.

I began to love the language, and I still marvel at the countless Shakespearean expressions that we use to this day, 400 years after his birth.

The following year, my A-level class studied King Lear, visiting the Sunderland Empire to watch a theatrical production starring - the only two names I remember - Michael Hordern as Lear and James Aubrey as Edgar.

It was truly mind-blowing; so gripping that we all walked out afterwards like zombies, not knowing what to say. When performed at the top level, Shakespeare is totally captivating.

I have since watched a handful of Shakespeare plays, some good, some bad, one appalling, and am still not a huge fan of his comedies, but, my dad will be pleased to know, I do appreciate his works.

History is now repeating itself. “I hate Shakespeare,” my youngest daughter told me last year when wrestling with an English literature essay on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Sadly she dropped the subject, but recently visited Stratford-upon Avon to watch the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of Hamlet, sitting through the tragedy for almost three hours.

“It was absolutely fantastic, the best thing I have ever seen,” she said. It’s her 18th birthday soon, I suggested the complete works. But, no, she’d rather have make-up. Still, it’s early days.