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From
Reid's Readers:
There have been
extraordinary writers who have lived extraordinary lives. But as literary
history shows again and again, there have also been authors whose lives were
outwardly unremarkable, but whose reading and imagination allowed them to wrote
brilliant and varied works. And there, of course, is the key word. Imagination.
Why is
Shakespeare such a great writer? Because he had the imagination to be one –
aided by his reading, his acquaintances, his experience as a working actor and
playwright in real theatres and (naturally) by some of his other life
experience. Was it from personal experience that he knew how it felt to murder
a king like Macbeth, smother a wife like Othello, go transvestite like
Rosalind, plot assassination like Brutus or even agonise over assassination
like Hamlet? Of course not. It was his imagination, knowledge of working
theatre and sympathetic understanding of human nature that allowed him to
dramatise these things.
As James Shapiro
shows in this elegant, witty and compulsively readable book, all “alternative
authorship” theories of Shakespeare are based on a fundamental confusion
between autobiography and imaginative literature. Ever since the Romantic era
(approximately 200 years ago) there has been a compulsion to believe that the
author’s life and the author’s writings are indistinguishable. Novels, plays and
poems are read for “clues” to the author’s self-revelation. In the age of
literary biography, this compulsion has become a plague.
We get people
who think you can read a good biography of Dickens and skip actually reading
Dickens’ novels to know why Dickens is worth remembering. The author is
stripped of the credit for having an imagination at all and his works are
stripped of the very thing that made them memorable in the first place.
With
Shakespeare, the “alternative” arguments usually take the form of wondering how
a lower-middle-class small-town provincial guy, who never went to university,
could possibly have written Hamlet
and King Lear and the like. With
naively snobbish assumptions, there then follows a hunt for more respectable
candidates – usually aristocratic and university-educated. Francis Bacon, the
Earl of Oxford, the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Southampton, Christopher
Marlowe, Henry Neville and others. Like teenagers who confuse movie stars with
the roles they play, “alternative authorship” advocates want the playwright
Shakespeare to be one of his own noble characters (though oddly enough they
never want him to be Shylock, Nick Bottom, Falstaff or Richard III).
Shapiro, who
teaches at New York’s Columbia University, is scrupulously fair as he deals
with the alternative theorists. He does not go for cheap shots and he treats
their major writings with as much respect as he can. In Contested Will there is none of the wildly abusive language you
find from all sides on the internet whenever you look up sites on the supposed
“Shakespeare authorship problem”.
Yet there must
have been times when Shapiro’s courtesy was near to breaking point. To read his
account of 19th century attempts to “prove” Francis Bacon’s
authorship of the plays by complex and fabricated ciphers and codes is to enter
the world of irredeemable crackpottery. To read J. T. Looney’s rationale for
believing Oxford wrote the plays is to discover a man whose snobbery approached
fanaticism. (Read more.)
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