Not
everything worth reading is hot off the press. In this section, we recommend "something old" that is still well worth
reading. "Something Old" can mean anything from a venerable and antique
classic to a good book first published four or more years ago.
“CONTESTED WILL – Who Wrote Shakespeare?”
by James Shapiro (first published 2010)
I
am not naturally a cynical person and I really do delight in books that are
both readable and right-headed. For this reason, averting my gaze from the
dross I often have to read, I was delighted, six years ago, to be sent a copy
of Professor James Shapiro’s Contested
Will – Who Wrote Shakespeare? This was in the days, now apparently gone,
when some newspapers gave reasonably generous space for book reviews. My review
appeared in the Sunday Star-Times on
25 April 2010, and I reproduce it below, without alteration, as it appeared in
the press.
*
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * * *
Imagine you
really like a writer who shows knowledge of a wide variety of trades and
occupations, gives plots that involve much foreign travel and many adventurous
actions, shows a broad and sympathetic understanding of the way people feel and
think, is acquainted with some foreign languages and knows how law courts, the
army, politics, medicine and royalty work. You might be inclined to think that
a writer who knows and understands so much must have experienced so much and
lived a fairly adventurous life.
So what if you
discover that the author in question lived a fairly humdrum sort of existence?
You’ll feel a little disappointed, won’t you? In fact you might even be
inclined to say that this author couldn’t possibly have written these various
and brilliant works.
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.
Shapiro’s coup de grace is his brilliant final
chapter in which he marshals all the good documentary evidence for
Shakespeare’s authorship. Among other things, he shows that there is a wealth
of solid contemporary references to Shakespeare as playwright. There is no such
documentary evidence whatsoever for any of the proposed alternatives.
All alternative
advocacy depends on a subjective (and very selective) reading of the plays and
a good deal of fantasising. It makes no difference that at various times the
likes of Mark Twain, Sigmund Freud, Henry James and Derek Jacobi have approved
“alternative” theories. Luminaries though they may be, none of these people
was, or is, an expert on Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre. None (with the
exception of Jacobi, who should know better) had access to the modern
scholarship, which shows the real conditions in which Shakespeare learned,
worked and sometimes collaborated with other playwrights. The working life that
is revealed by genuine textual analysis is a far cry from the notion of some
aristocrat popping in to the Globe occasionally to drop off a play for Will
Shakespeare to pass off as his own.
It is noteworthy
that there is hardly one professional Shakespeare scholar who takes alternative
authorship theories seriously. But then, with their love of conspiracy
theories, the alternative advocates say this merely proves there is an academic
conspiracy against them.
Shapiro makes
another powerful point – just as much nonsense has been written about
Shakespeare by alternative theorists, so has much nonsense been written by
people who believe Shakespeare wrote his own plays. Remember, for example, that
the Stratford-on-Avon tourist industry lives by taking people around places
that have no proven connection with Shakespeare at all (the so-called Anne Hathaway’s
cottage, Shakespeare’s Birthplace etc. etc.). We probably wouldn’t have had
this whole argument over authorship if “Bardolators” in the 18th and
19th centuries hadn’t built up the image of Shakespeare as such a
superhuman titan that virtually no human being could live up to him – let alone
the real Shakespeare. But none of this alters the fact that real scholarship
and real documentary evidence prove Shakespeare as the author.
I found myself
reading this book from cover to cover over a couple of days. In fact I found it
fairly un-put-downable.
I can’t finish
without a distinctively New Zealand note.
Five years ago I
reviewed a singularly silly book by Brenda James called The Truth Will Out, which argued, with the usual suspect reasoning,
that Henry Neville wrote Shakespeare’s plays. I gave it the flick with some of
the same arguments I’ve used here.
But for a couple
of weeks the letters column was hot with people taking me to task for not
mentioning the University of Auckland’s own Professor Emeritus MacDonald
Jackson, who has done as much as anyone to prove how Shakespeare worked in the
theatre company of which he was part.
So I’m delighted
to report that when he comes to listing reliable modern scholars on
Shakespeare’s texts, James Shapiro places Mac Jackson’s name at the top of his
list.
Congratulations
Mac.
* *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
*
Update
and for the record: Having given you, unaltered,
the original review, I have to make some clarifying remarks. As you will see
from the postings From Bard to Worse
and Conspiracy Theories Yet Again, I
have dealt before on this blog with conspiracy theories concerning the authorship
of Shakespeare’s plays. When I posted From
Bard to Worse, I allowed myself to be lured into a not-very-illuminating discussion
with one conspiracy theorist, which you can see in the “Comments” section under
that posting.
I refer (in the
above review) to my review of Brenda James’ remarkably silly book The Truth Will Out. That review appeared in the NZ Listener on the 26 November 2005. It was part of an article on
three books about Shakespeare, the other two being Clare Asquith’s plausible,
but unfortunately overstated, Shadowplay,
which argued that Shakespeare was a Catholic; and Peter Ackroyd’s
pompously-titled Shakespeare: The
Biography, which is no better nor worse than all the many other biographies
of Shakespeare that have appeared in recent years.
Further details: Before he wrote
Contested Will, James Shapiro had also
written 1599, examining closely one
year in Shakespeare’s working life. More
recently he produced 1601:William
Shakespeare and the Year of Lear which I reviewed (positively) for the NZ Listener 23 January 2016. I have some
misgivings about the latter book, not because I fault Shapiro’s historical and
literary research, but because it could lead some readers to think that the
historical situation in which Shakespeare wrote his plays encapsulates the main
meanings of the plays. Incidentally, conspiracy theories about the “real” authorship
of the plays still thrive in their rabid way on the internet and some
conspiracy theorists claim to have “trashed” Shapiro’s reasoning in Contested Will – but all this means is
that they have thrown some abuse his way without plausibly refuting anything he
has written.
No comments:
Post a Comment