Robert J. Maxwell
Michael Wood, our narrator and host, seems like a knowledgeable and likable guy. He searches through four-hundred-year-old parchments and runs a gloved forefinger down the page until he locates the name of William Shakespeare. Or William Shakespeare's distant cousin, or the head of the household of William Shakespeare's wife. How he can read that blocky script and those archaic expressions -- when they're in English instead of Latin, that is -- is beyond me. Wood is a monument to patience.It's sort of an "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Shakespeare." It's systematically organized. I'm sure Wood knows just where he's going as he meanders along but the path he takes seems to depend on his whim as writer. The structure takes us from Shakespeare's birth, through his youth and successful maturity, to his death. But that's just the broad outline. There are a lot of divagations.There is about equal time allotted to Shakespeare's life, his work, and his cultural environment. A lot of things popped up that were surprises to me. I never knew, for instance, that Queen Elizabeth I set a movement afoot to deport all the Africans from England, even the high-class ones. And there is an occasional ironic twist given to some of the material. Wood quotes at some length from an extravagant love poem. then he looks up from the manuscript with a smile and recites the last line, dedicated to "my fair and lovely boy," and Shakespeare wasn't referring to his son, Hamnet, either. A talking head shrugs it off with the observation that the distinction between emotional and physical attraction was regarded somewhat casually at the time. (That's pretty much the attitude given to "WS" by Anthony Burgess in his novel, "Nothing Like the Sun." No big deal.) Some of the material in Wood's documentary has little pieces of information that were a bit startling. One of the centuries-old manuscripts he examines refers to a "Saucy Jack." Well -- that was one of Jack the Ripper's noms de plume, wasn't it? Just a coincidence I guess.Let me just mention something that affects my response to this series, something that measures it. About twenty years ago I did something I felt very guilty about and condemned myself to study two things I'd been forced into contact with in high school and had loathed -- algebra and Shakespeare. I've forgotten all the algebra. (The human mind has a great capacity for suppressing the memory of pain.) I've even forgotten the act I felt guilty about. But I've carried on a distant but affectionate relationship with Shakespeare ever since I rushed through all 37 or so plays, plus the essays and footnotes included in the Signet editions.But this series is a long and drawn-out sucker and told me more than I felt I needed to know about the man. However, the additional stuff wasn't a complete waste of time. I learned quite a lot about the social and material history of the time. Shakespeare's Dad was a glove maker. Well, I knew that much, but I never knew how the hell you "made" a glove without a machine before. Now I know. A scholar would unquestionably get more out of it than I did, though I gather some of Wood's claims are arguable.There are excerpts from some of the plays and I shouldn't skip them. Most are only famous scenes that last a few minutes, without giving the viewer time to adjust to the mise en scene or the artificiality of the acting. But the little bit in which Iago first noodges Othello was quite effective.
sargonthesorceror
It is amusing to see the conspiracy-mongers attach themselves to a subject, and prattle nonsense endlessly to hide the fact that they have no evidence--merely lunatic conjecture. An endless declaration of the "Shakespeare's plays were written by the Earl of Oxford/Francis Bacon/Kit Marlowe/Your Name Here" is that William simply did not have the LIFE necessary to write his plays. As Wood shows, this simply isn't true--Shakespeare's life included growing up in a virtual police state that could compare with Stalin's Russia or Mao's China in its relentless efforts to stamp out dissidents and encourage "rightthinking", very likely as a hidden member of the increasingly persecuted Catholic faith--seeing his father's meteoric rise and quiet fall in Stratford society--losing his only son at age 11--and meeting (and sometimes being related to) some of the most notorious individuals of Elizabethan England. Wood offers facts where they're available, and plausible theories backed up by circumstantial evidence where they're not. A virtual love letter to Shakespeare (in fact occasionally Wood's enthusiasm is a tad TOO overwhelming), England's lovely countryside, and theater in general, this series is an excellent biography/study of a man who while somewhat obscured by the historical record, is brilliantly illuminated in his poetry and plays.
Howard Schumann
In responding to the Oxford challenge, recent books and films have tried to connect the biography of the man we know as William Shakespeare to his plays and poems. The popularity of films such as Shakespeare in Love indicates a hunger to find the true Shakespeare, the man behind the myth. In this same vein, PBS, in collaboration with the BBC and the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust in Stratford, has produced a four-part documentary In Search of Shakespeare, written and presented by Michael Wood and directed by David Wallace. Accompanied by a 332-page book, it is a big budget, beautifully photographed, and highly entertaining pro-Stratford exposition that purports to show how an unschooled Glover's son from Stratford became the greatest writer in the English language. After four hours, I'm still scratching my head.Wood (In Search of the Trojan War) narrates the documentary with a gee-whiz enthusiasm, yet offers, in addition to the usual embellishments, nothing new about Shakespeare except for some interesting items relating to his family and their Catholic inclinations. The documentary is worth watching, however, for its colorful dramatization of English history, excellent excerpts from Shakespeare's plays, and amazing Victorian photographs of old Tudor Inns and homes in London that are no longer standing. The host is often seen in an archive, office, or estate library thumbing through yellowing parchments and springing to life with a pixie-ish grin when he discovers the name Shaksper or Shakeshafte or some variety thereof. Through sleight of hand, William Shakspere, whose life is known only through marriage, birth, and death records, court cases, and a will emerges, in Wood's phrase, as "bold, streetwise, and sexy", vitally in tune to events taking place in the world around him.Although the dating of the plays is guesswork at best, Mr. Wood boldly asserts the chronology of Shakespeare's work as if it was agreed by all, confusing dates of publication with dates of composition, desperately trying to fit the plays into contemporary events. One must forgive Mr. Wood for his over zealous attachment to the Stratfordian agenda when he makes statements for which there is scant evidence.One assertion without evidence is that Shakespeare collaborated on a play about Sir Thomas More because the handwriting "matches his". This is interesting in that the only specimens of William Shakspere's handwriting to come down to us are six almost illegible signatures. Wood also states categorically that Shakespeare's Sonnets about the fair youth refer to his mourning the loss of his son Hamnet at age 11. He does not mention the dedication to a W.H, widely interpreted as referring to Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton to whom he dedicated his love poems Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece. Also carefully avoided is the fact that Sonnets 1 to 17 give advice to the young man to get married, hardly the kind of advice you would be giving to an eleven year old. Wood's main thesis, however, is that Shakespeare was a closet Catholic whose life was shrouded in mystery because he went to great lengths to dodge the authoritarian network that was chasing Catholics during Elizabeth's reign. He discovers documents indicating that William's father John along with other Warwickshire cousins and acquaintances were active members of the Catholic underground. Wood discovers a posthumous document in which Will's father John asserts his allegiance to Catholicism and points out that Will was baptized by a Catholic sympathizer. Another strong bit of evidence is William's purchase of the Blackfriars' Gatehouse in London after his retirement to Stratford, a notorious refuge for Catholic dissidents and priests on the run from civil authority.If Wood's thesis is correct that William of Stratford was indeed a Catholic, it only serves as a further indication that the author of the plays and sonnets was a different man. While the purchase of Blackfriars was going on, five Elizabethan dramas were being presented at events celebrating the marriage of King James' daughter Elizabeth to Frederick a leader of the German Protestants. There is no greater incongruity. In fact, Mr. Wood seems not to have looked to the plays to find evidence of whether or not the author was a Catholic. Transcending any specific religious agenda, the plays advance the model of a humanistic Reformation society, showing a skeptical attitude toward Catholic orthodoxy and laying down a challenge to the political authority. Can one imagine a Catholic writer meditating, as in Hamlet, on the nobility of suicide or could Hamlet have said, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so"? Contrary to his intentions, what Wood reveals is that the free-thinking humanist with a passion for romance, history, fantasy, and high comedy could not have been the narrowly parochial, Catholic entrepreneur from Stratford. The true Shakespeare was a literary revolutionary, our first modern writer, who supported and brought to fruition the Protestant revolution, creating works that transcended the medieval morality of the mystery plays and opened a new chapter of unrivaled literary richness.Old myths die hard. In Search of Shakespeare may be looked upon by future generations as one of the last attempts to cling to the myth of the unlettered common man as literary genius. In spite of ferocious opposition by the academic establishment and British Tourism to even consider the question, I think the average person has serious doubts about the attribution of the Stratford man as the author of the Shakespeare canon. Many of course, simply don't want to know. They prefer their Shakespeare to be a kind of a disembodied intelligence looking into our lives like some literary Jehovah, a man who understands and knows everything. Yet as Shakespeare said, "Truth is truth, to the end of reckoning" so let us have the truth one way or the other. Then we can all have a safe sleep, perchance a dream, for it is only the truth that can set us free.
