Just started for class...let's see how it goes
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So as I've just finished it, I'm happy to say that I'm a little bit awed and humbled at my own humanity.
This is to do more with Shakespeare as a presence more fully realized than I had previously known him to be. I'm not an expert but I do definitely pay homage to the Bard- best writer ever? Do we need these categories? No! Is he anyway? Why not?
Weis writes well, and his effort here is well-done. The existential rumination is more modestly a tribute to his articulate, measured, thorough and edifying prose. He clearly has done the work, has a deep love for the texts, and has certainly achieved a distinct image of Shakespeare which he applies honestly, if not always definitively, to his limning of the man from Stratford.
It's more that it's nice to know that William Shakespeare was, after all, a man living and breathing, eating and drinking, fucking and sorrowing, raising daughters and making deals and of course acting and writing his roles on the stage.
We get Weis' hypotheses, which don't seem totally farfetched or wishful thinking- at least, for the most part. We get the country boy with a taste for rebellion. You don't poach deer on one of the biggest estates around when merely a sprout, get caught, punished, and pen some nasty quasi-limericks in response for nothing. Not to mention knocking up a local lass 9 years your senior (what's up with the two different names on the register? An alibi? A three's company? A botch job at a shotgun marriage?) and working diligently for your possibly papist mayor father who starts strong, sags, and picks himself up within the social stratum.
All bullshit about politicization of biography and interpretation aside, Shakespeare was almost certainly bisexual. I'd heard plenty about his man crush on the Earl of Southhampton, sure, and Weis handles the issue with open eyes and a balanced approach. Poor bastard- his platonically bosom friend was the hottest chick in Queen Elizabeth's court. Weis doesn't see a consummation there, which likely accounts for the curled-page intensity of the sonnets, not to mention the longer epic poems, dedicated to his most worthy soul and his heart's inspiration. Again, sorry to see.
Even as a fan of Harold Bloom, I've never quite bought the Marlovian revisionism aspect of his creativity, and Weis makes the point clear and convincingly. The dashing, brash, cocksure, witty, anarchic, definitely (defiantly, at that!) homosexual Marlowe comes through in vibrant color. I didn't realize what a figure he cut just prior to our boy really coming on to the London literary scene: master dramatist, lyric poet, possible sabtoeur, peer and 'rival poet' to W.S. I'm a fan of his Faustus (who wouldn't be?) but now I want to read more in him- possible paper topic. We shall see. Apparently either Jude Law or Johnny Depp or both optioned a biopic of him maybe a decade ago. If there's anybody I could see playing Marlowe, it's got to be the latter. Let's hope the wave of artist biopics will work in that favor. I'm definitely a sucker for that stuff and for one would love to see it happen.
Weis even suggests that he and Shakespeare might have known the love that dare not speak its name. Damn. What a piece of poetential literary history that would be- a historical novel?
Again, the Brits make the best biographers. I don't know if its the dry punctiliousness of a socially stratified culture, centuries of a richly profound literary tradition, the looming shade of Dr. Johnson, or what but I'm definitely noticing a trend here.
Weis echoes Keats (of course, a superb reader of Shakespeare himself) in asserting that Shakespeare's art is commentary on a life lived allegorically. If that doesn't make any sense, here's Keats himself in the epigraph:
A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory- and very few eyes can see the Mystery of his life- a life like the scriptures, figurative- which such people can no more make out than they can the hebrew Bible. Lord Byron cuts a figure- but he is not figurative- Shakespeare led a life of Allegory; his works are the comments on it.
That's got plenty of dialectical meat on the bone. I also enjoy the correctness of the swipe of the arrogant George Gordon- master versifier that he was, among many other things, accurate critic of Keats he was Most. Certainly. Not. But I digress.
One of the charms of Weis' bio is that he embeds himself in the literal world Shakespeare inhabited- you get Henley Street (where he met Ms. Hathaway in first blush), the houses, the weather, the immediate and extended families. You meet the neighbors. And they are worth meeting.
It's not a novel, and it's not written novelistically, but Weis is very scrupulous about laying out the Stratfordians and the Londoners who might easily have passed the time with W.S. in a very turbulent, seethingly sectarian era of England's history. Shakespeare was very likely to have seen recusant Catholics (John Shakespeare? there was the will, the secret chamber in the house where he took communion) essentially dragged from their beds and imprisoned, or followed, profiled, and nabbed once anything potentially incriminating came to light- true or false or vendetta-friendly. While reading I found my secular self letting out the occasional low whistle over the length and breadth of Elizabethan police state gestapo tactics. John Adams was surely right when, late in life, he exasperatedly wrote to Jefferson "O what a fine world it would be, if there were no religion in it!"
Shakespeare may well have walked to work every morning with a commuter landscape of severed heads dangling from a bridge. Or witnessing grisly executions amid a cheering throng. No wonder he seemed to take the impassive route and more or less Anglicanized to get along to go along. It didn't stop him from writing Richard II, Richard III, Julius Ceasar, Macbeth, and any number of dramas which call the vagaries of power into question. It's even a little surprising he got away with it, given the volatile circumstances.
One of the things Weis does well is what every biography will enviably encounter and must achieve- making the lives of the people around the subject compelling, human, and interesting. Weis does an admirable (if occasionally too nerdy) job of exploring daring escapes from oppressive circumstances, gutsy commitment to religious/political (at long last, is there any difference?) ideals, and the circumlocutions of me and you and everyone we know...
The only real important fault is that Weis' desire to sketch his subject as completely as possible does lead him to some speculation which is dubious, admittedly addressed in the text, yet left to linger longer than necessary. He does build a bit more than he needs to on suppositions, which is probably the biographer's lament, but still...
I'm just not buying that Shakespeare slept with Jane Davenport. Ok sure he was lodging with her and her husband, she didn't exactly seem bound to him body and soul, she was hot, the Bard's possibly a bit of a player...sure, but that's all circumstantial evidence at best. The late plays sure are filled with sexual guilt and jealousy, but I haven't heard anything about his playing Iago, and if the hookup did occur there might have been more evidence of it than a close reading of the text and some local hat-hanging. This kind of shaky induction does occur throughout the text often enough to weaken Weis' generally pretty strong text/biography edifice. Lost a star in that respect.
All in all, a fine effort which has moved me. The bard may not speak yet, but as the Rolling Stones said- Don't want to walk, and talk about Jesus...I just want to see his face. Weis has given us at least an over-the-shoulder glance, and for this I bow.