Shreds from the whole piece

Update, February 16, 2018: Rather surprisingly, Dennis McCarthy seems to have repudiated his book North of Shakespeare, withdrawing it from sale and even claiming (in a brief discussion with me on Facebook) that he never said Thomas North wrote the canonical plays included in the First Folio.

You can judge for yourself. Here's the promotional copy from North of Shakespeare, with my emphases in bold:

No conspiracies, no speculation, just the documented proof that Sir Thomas North wrote the plays and that Shakespeare merely adapted them for the public stage. Yes, Shakespeare wrote everything clearly attributed to him while he was alive; yes, all the Shakespeare-era title pages were correct; but as "North of Shakespeare" shows, most of the plays attributed to Shakespeare during his lifetime and even up until 1620 are not the same plays that everyone now believes he wrote. "North of Shakespeare," written by the acclaimed scholar-author of "Here Be Dragons" (Oxford University Press -- 2009), exposes extraordinary, documented information that overturns everything we had once believed about Shakespeare. Specifically, a thorough analysis of seven rare documents has confirmed that the impoverished, war-weary scholar-knight, Sir Thomas North, was the one who actually penned the original "Shakespearean" masterpieces and that Shakespeare had merely adapted North's plays for the public stage. Moreover, a careful examination of the actual title pages of the dramas published while Shakespeare was alive and even up until 1620 -- combined with a study of all relevant comments from his contemporaries -- reconfirms this same fact. The true story of North and Shakespeare, unlike all other speculations over authorship, whether put forth by orthodox scholars or intelligent dissidents, is devoid of all conspiracies, hypothetical behind-the-scenes-intrigue, or outlandish and dastardly motives. What remains is one exceedingly simple explanation, confirmed repeatedly by numerous documents and multiple lines of evidence, that unknots confusion, settles the paradoxes, and, once and for all, solves the mystery of Shakespeare....McCarthy will now transform our view of Shakespeare in the same way that his past works have helped change our views on the history of life and Earth.

---

(Original post.)

Recently two books came out dealing with a similar subject–a series of plays attributed to William Shakespeare that are now seen as inauthentic for one reason or another. The books are The Apocryphal William Shakespeare, by Sabrina Feldman, and North of Shakespeare, by Dennis McCarthy. Though the authors have very different styles and take very different approaches to their subject matter, they both come up with a similar solution to the problem posed by these plays. I find their thesis fascinating and highly plausible. In this rather long post I’ll try to sketch it in, making due allowance for the complexity of the subject.

To understand this controversy, it’s necessary to know something about the publication of plays attributed to William Shakespeare prior to the 1623 appearance of the First Folio. The First Folio stands as the first complete, or nearly complete, collection, but for years prior to its publication, plays attributed to Shakespeare had appeared in quarto versions. A quarto was a cheap publication, essentially a pamphlet, corresponding roughly to a magazine or supermarket paperback book today. The First Folio was aimed at a wealthy, sophisticated readership; the book was hugely expensive, far out of reach of most people. Quartos, on the other hand, were inexpensive, disposable products that the average literate person could afford.

There were three sorts of quartos attributed to William Shakespeare prior to the First Folio:

1. So-called “good quartos.” These are versions of Shakespeare’s plays that are substantially the same as the Folio versions. There are 8 good quartos.
2. So-called “bad quartos.” These are versions of Shakespeare’s plays that are noticeably inferior to the Folio versions. They are typically shorter, lacking key scenes, and featuring compressed and degraded dialogue. There are 12 bad quartos.
3. So-called “Shakespeare apocrypha.” These are plays attributed to “William Shakespeare,” or to “W. Sh.” or “W.S.,” which have no parallels in the First Folio and are not considered to be authentically Shakespearean works. Some of these plays were published in later editions of the Folio (the Second Folio, Third Folio, etc.). Even so, they are generally dismissed from the canon today because their style, themes, and overall quality make them unacceptable as products of Shakespeare’s distinctive genius. The so-called apocrypha include such obscure works as The London Prodigal, A Yorkshire Tragedy, and Locrine. There are 11 quartos in this category, more or less (the contemporary attribution of authorship to some titles is disputed).

Now, what we have here is a rather unusual situation. We have two bodies of work both attributed to the same author. One body of work–the collection of plays that constitutes the First Folio–consists of acknowledged masterpieces of English literature. The other body of work–the bad quartos and apocrypha–consists of plays that scarcely rise above the level of hackwork.

This odd situation does not pertain to other authors of the same era. We are not faced with a collection of bad quartos and apocrypha attributed to Ben Jonson, Thomas Middleton, or other popular playwrights. Only in Shakespeare’s case do we face the dilemma of deciding between good and bad versions of the same play, or between authentic and inauthentic contributions to the author's oeuvre.

How to account for this state of affairs? The standard response goes as follows. The bad quartos were pirated editions produced by unscrupulous actors or by thieving audience members. If it was the actors, they retained portions of the script and filled in gaps from memory. If it was an audience member, he was taking down the play in shorthand as it was performed. In either case, the printer and publisher must have known they were putting out a bootleg edition that was not authorized by the author or by whoever actually owned the playscript.

The apocryphal quartos, on the other hand, were plays written by some less successful, less popular playwright than Shakespeare. The printers and publishers of those quartos simply put Shakespeare’s name (or initials) on the title page for its commercial value. They believe that a quarto published under the name of “William Shakespeare”–or even under the initials “W.S.”–would sell better than one published under the real author’s name.

So what the conventional view amounts to is a conspiracy–or more exactly, a whole series of conspiracies–among actors who were betraying their acting companies for cash, auditors who took down the dialogue in shorthand, and unscrupulous publishers and printers who put out pirated editions of some plays and deliberately misattributed the authorship of others. And all these conspiracies continued for years, while William Shakespeare himself never objected, never fought back, never had the offending quartos removed from circulation, and while the authors whose plays had been unjustly credited to Shakespeare never voiced a peep of protest. The printers and publishers, despite their criminal practices, never suffered any penalty for these bad and apocryphal quartos. Indeed, they must have found the whole business quite profitable, while apparently Shakespeare himself, though known as a skinflint who pursued his debtors through the courts for repayment of trivial sums, was unconcerned with this substantial loss of income.

And all of these shenanigans were carried out at the expense of just one playwright, William Shakespeare, and never at the expense of any others.

Now, orthodox scholars often criticize those who are skeptical of Shakespeare’s authorship of the plays attributed to him on two grounds: first, that these anti-Stratfordian theories are nothing but conspiracy theories, which are inherently implausible; and second, that our best textual evidence is the title pages of the published works themselves, which clearly credit the works to William Shakespeare.

But note: the orthodox position is vulnerable to exactly the same two lines of attack. It too assumes a conspiracy–in fact, many separate conspiracies–whose purpose was to muddle the authorship of the works. It also assumes that the title pages of the published works are not reliable, since it rejects the prima facie evidence of the title pages of the apocryphal works.

In other words, both sides advance the idea of a conspiracy that uniquely revolved around William Shakespeare, and both sides question the accuracy of the title pages. Of course, the two sides differ in the specifics of which title pages they question and why, and what kind of conspiracy was perpetrated and by whom. But neither side can maintain its position without assuming some kind of conspiracy and some degree of inaccuracy–in fact, dishonesty–in the title pages.

Is there a way out of this conundrum? Feldman and McCarthy, arguing in separate books with different styles and emphases, say there is. At the risk of oversimplifying a complicated thesis, I’ll summarize this alternative approach below. Where possible, I’ll include quotes from contemporary (typically veiled and satirical) references to Shakespeare or from remembrances offered within the lifetime of some who knew him.

Let’s say that William Shakespeare of Stratford was talented and ambitious young man, educated only at the grammar school level, but with a natural wit, a sense of showmanship, and the ability to produce entertaining rhymes extemporaneously. (“When he killed a calf he would do it in a high style, and make a speech.") Finding Stratford too confining, he left town, deserting his wife and child, and toured the countryside as a maker of morality plays and a puppeteer. (“[He] can serve to make a pretty speech, for [he] was a country author, passing at a moral, for twas [he] that penned the Moral of Man’s Wit, the Dialogue of Dives, and for seven years space was absolute interpreter to the puppets.”)

After several years, he had made something of a name for himself as a smalltime impresario. The next logical step was to move to London and get involved in the theater. He did some acting, but also worked as a play broker, acquiring plays from other writers. Some of these were old plays no longer in fashion, plays originally written by an aristocrat for court performances in those days when the public theater was still in its infancy. (“At first he made low shifts, would pick and glean,/ Buy the reversion of old plays …”)

These plays were long, complex, rather weighty and intellectual affairs treating of the problems of the high and mighty. Shakespeare saw commercial potential in them but knew that his unsophisticated audience would not sit still–or more accurately, stand still, since the groundlings had to stand throughout a performance–for a long, challenging production. He set to work doctoring the dramas, cutting out some of the lengthy speeches and slower scenes, simplifying the dialogue, adding elements of broad comedy and bombast–in short, popularizing these intellectually serious productions. He may have done this himself, or he may have hired writers to make the kinds of changes he required. In any event, the finished product was a commercially viable play bearing his unique stamp.

The plays were successful, and since he took a cut of the profits, he began to grow rich. Some writers were unhappy with his success, aware that he was taking credit for work that was not originally his own, and they were particularly upset by his practice of padding out some of the plays with plagiarized passages from their own works. They found him arrogant, dishonest, knavish. (“There is an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers [i.e., a plagiarist], that with his tiger’s heart wrapped in a player’s hide supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and, being an absolute Johannes Factotum [jack of all trades], is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.”) They mocked him as a country bumpkin who knew little Latin and pleased the unintelligent by dumbing down the intellectually demanding plays he had obtained. (“Few of the university pen plays well, they smell too much of that writer Ovid, and that writer Metamorphosis, and talk too much of Proserpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare puts them all down …”)

But Shakespeare didn’t care. He had found a way to succeed in the big city, to become a major name in the burgeoning theater industry. When printers asked for permission to publish his works, he agreed–and naturally they put his name on the title page. There was no conspiracy; though the plays were originally written by someone else, they had been revised and “improved” by Shakespeare himself or by hired hands acting in his stead, and as far as he or anyone else was concerned, they were his work. And of course he never objected to the publication of these quartos; quite the opposite–he agreed to it and profited from it, just as he profited from nearly everything he did.

Eventually he retired in Stratford, a wealthy man famed for his business acumen, his bravado, and his country wit. Some years after his death, those who knew the truth of the matter and who wanted to preserve the best of the plays in their original form–the plays as untouched by Shakespeare–set about compiling the First Folio. They obtained, wherever possible, the actual manuscripts Shakespeare had purchased, and even advertised this fact on the title page of the Folio itself (“Mr. William Shakespeare’s Comedies, Histories & Tragedies, Published according to the True Original Copies”) and in the front matter (“The Works of William Shakespeare, containing all his Comedies, Histories, and Truly set forth, according to their first Original”). Naturally, they discarded the apocryphal plays, which they knew had been written by others and had no connection to the masterpieces they were seeking to preserve. If they could not find the manuscript of a particular play in its original undoctored form but wished to preserve it anyway, they had no choice but to preserve the adulterated version, as was probably the case with Titus Andronicus, The Merchant of Venice, Timon of Athens, Macbeth, and others. They continued to attribute the plays to William Shakespeare in order to protect the privacy of the original aristocratic author, and perhaps for complicated political reasons. They did put in some clues to the actual authorship of the works, but they could not be too open about it.

If something like this were the case, it would rather neatly answer a number of questions. It would explain how and why the bad and apocryphal quartos came to be published, and why no one ever complained about their publication. It would explain why Shakespeare’s contemporaries ridiculed him as a hack, a plagiarist, and a yokel of limited education and talent, when quite plainly none of these things was true of the original author. It would explain how William Shakespeare became, in effect, the front man for an aristocrat who either would not or could not publish under his real name. It would validate the title pages of all the quartos–good, bad, and apocryphal–and relieve us of the need to hypothesize a complicated series of conspiracies among the printers. The only remaining conspiracy theory would involve the original author’s need to maintain his secrecy, and the desire of his friends to keep his secret after he was dead.

I am not saying that the above description accurately summarizes either Feldman’s or McCarthy’s viewpoint. Each writer has her or his particular take on the details. McCarthy, for instance, does not seem to think that there was any conspiracy involved even in the publication of the First Folio, though I am at a loss to understand his thinking here. But I’m not trying to get bogged down in details. What’s fascinating to me is the possibility of a new way of looking at William Shakespeare’s London career–an approach that gives him credit as a successful actor, play broker, stage producer, and adapter of difficult material–a man of natural wit, high ambition, and a certain ruthless willingness to use other people for his own ends. All of this is quite in keeping with the portrait of Shakespeare that emerges from those who knew him, remembered him, and satirized him.

It also leaves room for the mysterious figure behind the scenes–the genuine author of the Shakespearean canon, whose works were written to be enjoyed as court entertainments or as poetry, and which have come down to us very often in an altered, simplified, popularized form.

For those who are interested, I recommend both The Apocryphal William Shakespeare, by Sabrina Feldman, and North of Shakespeare, by Dennis McCarthy, for more information on this intriguing new hypothesis. Feldman’s approach is more cautious and scholarly; she takes far more time to amass her evidence before drawing any conclusions; and she does not insist that her conclusions are correct. McCarthy’s book is a quicker read, setting out its conclusions more starkly, and a good deal of it is devoted to his claim that the aristocratic author behind the works was actually Thomas North, the famed translator of Plutarch’s Lives. For the moment, I’m more interested in nailing down the career of the Stratford man than in considering yet another claimant to the authorship crown.

If you’re going to read just one of these two books, I would read The Apocryphal William Shakespeare. But both books are very much worthwhile. Even if you have no interest in the authorship controversy, you may well find them provocative. At the very least, you’ll learn a lot about Elizabethan theatrical and printing practices, and about the thorny questions that still bedevil admirers of the Bard.

I’ll give the last word to Ben Jonson, whose poem “On Poet Ape” is often taken to be a shot at William Shakespeare. Does his scathing critique sound applicable to the original author of Hamlet and King Lear, or to someone who appropriated and adulterated those works?

On Poet Ape

Ben Jonson, 1616

Poor Poet Ape*, that would be thought our chief,**
Whose works are e’en the frippery*** of wit,
From Brokage**** is become so bold a thief
As we, the robbed, leave rage and pity it.
At first he made low shifts, would pick and glean,
Buy the reversion of old plays,***** now grown
To a little wealth, and credit on the scene,
He takes up all, makes each man’s wit his own,+
And told of this, he slights it.++ Tut, such crimes
The sluggish, gaping auditor devours;+++
He marks not whose ‘twas first, and aftertimes
May judge it to be his, as well as ours.
Fool! as if half-eyes will not know a fleece
From locks of wool, or shreds from the whole piece.++++

*Poet Ape = poet imitator, also poet-actor (ape = actor)

**That would be thought our chief = that would be regarded as the best poet of the age

***Frippery = used apparel; recycled garments

****Brokage = play brokering

*****Buy the reversion of old plays = purchase the rights to old plays

+Makes each man’s wit his own = takes credit for others’ work

++Told of this, he slights it = doesn’t care that he’s stealing credit

+++The sluggish, gaping auditor devours = the casual playgoer doesn’t notice

++++Shreds from the whole piece = mere fragments retained in popular editions vs. the original, uncut masterworks

Comments

[Michael Egan]

Hello Michael

Sorry to communicate like this, but I can't find your email address. Please be in touch as I'd like to republish your review in the next SOS Newsletter, which I edit.

[Matt Rouge]

Michael,

Thanks, interesting post.

I'm not going to pretend to know much beyond zero on this topic, but I do take issue with one of your arguments.

There would have been no "conspiracy" on the part of those falsely attributing works to Shakespeare--it would have been basic fraud. (Yes, if one or more people were involved in the same fraud, technically they are conspirators, but it would not have been a conspiracy in the same sense as at least not in the same sense as the rather elaborate conspiracy needed to hide Oxford's identity.)

From what I know, attributing lesser works to a famous artist used to be pretty common. One of my favorite composers is Haydn, and there were hundreds of works sold under his name that he didn't write. The reason was simple: if they said he wrote them, people would buy them.

So it's not hard to imagine that people would pull the same thing with Shakespeare's works.

[Matt Rouge]

SOS Newsletter = Save Our Shakespeare?!

[Amos Oliver Doyle]

I too know little beyond zero on this topic but I do find it interesting. At the risk of hearing a lot of groans, I want to provide reference to a play written about the young "Will" Shakespeare by (please don't roll your eyes now) Patience Worth/Pearl Curran. Whatever one thinks about the Patience Worth saga, the play "An Elizebethan Mask" if nothing else is interesing in that it is written in the style (I guess) of the Shakespeare plays, a style, in rhyming couplets, totally different from anything else Patience Worth wrote. Of course it is probably all fiction but who knows, Patience Worth supposedly lived in the 1600s so maybe she had heard a little old gossip. (She was reported to have been born 33 years after Shakespeare died.) Those of you who are expert in the works of Shakespeare might find it interesting to read or skim through this play by Patience Worth. I think it requires an expert to truly evaluate this work. There may be some agreement with what Michael has related here in his blog with the way Patience Worth portrays the young "Will" in her play.

[Ben]

Nice review, Michael -more food for thought.

I've been watching "The King and the Playwright", US academic James Shapiro’s three part documentary currently on British TV, exploring Shakespeare’s work under the patronage of James I. He shows how the Bard and his players were acting, and even wrote by Royal Appointment. While watching this, I wonder how on earth there can be any doubt about who WS was.

Of course, Ben Johnson was imprisoned for anti-Scottish jokes in Eastward Hoe, a satire he collaborated in (James I being a Scot). Perhaps not surprising there was a bit of bad blood between WS and BJ.

[Michael Prescott]

Hi Michael Egan - Thanks for your interest in my post. You can find my email address on the homepage of at my author site: www.michaelprescott.net . Just scroll down a little and the "contact" info will appear. (I prefer not to post my address too often because it only increases the amount of spam I receive.)

Matt, SOS is the Shakespeare Oxford Society. Conspiracy to commit fraud is still conspiracy (the thieving actors and/or auditors would have been part of the plot). And if the printers were routinely duplicitous, why did they single out Shakespeare for this treatment? Why did Shakespeare (or his acting company, or the writers who were cheated of proper credit) never complain? What can "On Poet Ape" possibly mean, if it is not an attack on a play broker and plagiarist?

Ben, most discussions of the plays' performances are conjecture. No one really knows when the plays were originally written or first performed. The records are scanty and confusing. Bios of Shakespeare - including Shapiro's - make large assumptions and guesses, which are then passed off as fact. For instance, Ben Jonson refers to Pericles as a "moldy tale," suggesting it was an old play, yet the standard dating places it quite late. (IMO it was originally an old court play - a moldy tale - which was revived and updated for public performance decades later. But this, too, is conjecture.)

[Helen H. Gordon]

Very interesting analysis of the two books, Michael. I do know more than zero about the conspiracies swirling around the name of William Shakespeare. After 20 years of research, I am convinced that "William Shakespeare" was the pen name of Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.I have found much evidence that Oxford was Queen Elizabeth's favorite playwright; they had a love-child in 1573 who, to keep his royal blood secret, was raised as the 3rd Earl of Southampton. This beautiful love story can now be told. The movie "Anonymous" directed by Roland Emmerich dramatizes this relationship as it occurred during times of great peril and religious strife. The Shakespearean sonnets also reveal the emotional life of Edward de Vere, as explained in my book THE SECRET LOVE STORY IN SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS [2008]. It's available at online bookstores and also in ebook form. Sincerely, Helen Heightsman Gordon, M.A., Ed.D., English professor emeritus and author of numerous articles and books.

[Michael Prescott]

Amos, thanks for the info on Patience Worth. I find that case fascinating and I have read some of her works. I was unaware of the Shakespeare-related play - I'll look for it. But if it's written in rhyming couplets, it's not in the style of Shakespeare's plays - he wrote in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter).

[Matt Rouge]

I find it hard to believe that no other "unauthorized edition" of plays from that period was ever issued, but I'll have to leave the rest of that argument to genuine scholars.

[Roger Knights]

Shakespeare a mash-up? I like it!

Here's something I posted here (or possibly on another site) within the past year:

----------

Couldn't there have been a team of scriptwriters of Shakespeare’s plays? Has anyone argued for this?

Perhaps this is not much favored because it offends our image of the creative genius when it turns out after the fact that an editor has very substantially improved a famous author's works. Examples are Thomas Wolfe and Raymond Carver (very heavily modified by his editor Liss (I think the name is)).

[Matt Rouge]

Roger,

I agree. I think it's odd that Oxfordians insist that Oxford was *the* playwright when he may have been a team member, an occasional contributor, who knows. But Oxfordians have the natural and understandable desire to have one guy to focus on and admire.

[Linda Theil]

Michael, thank you very much for this intriguing review. I admire your work very much. I think you offer clarity in your reporting on this issue of the Shakespeare authorship. May I take objection to your characterization of the quartos as comparable to supermarket paperbacks? Comparing the quartos to twentieth century paperbacks is a common analogy that suffers from anachronistic thinking. Considering the quartos in the same terms as modern paperbacks provides an inaccurate view of the value of the quartos and by extension an inaccurate view of the market for these quartos. While it is a difficult process to analyize the cost of goods in varied times and places, using value equivalents can be useful. In this example, a modern paperback is sold for about the cost of one-hours work by an unskilled worker or $7 to $10. A Shakespeare quarto was sold for about 8 shillings which was the weekly wage for a skilled worker, such as a joiner -- an equivalent cost today of hundreds of dollars. This is a vast difference in value. Comparing a quarto to modern paperbacks also gives the impression that the quartos were an important part of the contemporary meme, like a best selling novel or an enormously popular TV show in the twentieth century, but the limits of communication in the sixteenth century make any such comparison inaccurate. I don't know how to imagine the quartos as a cultural phenomenon, but I'm pretty sure they have nothing in common with paperback books. In my opinion, the whole issue of the Shakespeare authorship suffers greatly from our human inability to set aside our comprehension of the world as we experience it, in order to understand the world as it was in the past.

[Michael Prescott]

Thanks for the comment, Linda. I'm not sure you're right about the price of a quarto, however. Here's some info from an online source:

"About 800 copies would be printed for the first edition of a play. For a second edition, between 800 and as many as 1500 copies (if the first edition had sold out quickly) would be printed. The publisher’s profits were much higher with second and subsequent editions, for which he had no costs associated with the purchase, approval, and licensing of the manuscript. Very few plays were sold bound, although they might be put into a paper wrapper before they were stitched. A single, unbound play cost about 6 old pence."

http://www.bl.uk/treasures/shakespeare/printedplays.html

By comparison, the First Folio, which everyone acknowledges was hugely expensive, cost one pound. According to Wikipededia:

"The First Folio's original price was 1 pound, the equivalent of about £95–£110 or US$190 to $220 in 2006."

So while the Folio did cost a couple of hundred dollars in today's money, the quartos were much cheaper. In those days there were 12 pence in a shilling, and 20 shillings in a pound, so the Folio cost forty times more than a quarto. This would put the price of a quarto at about $5 in modern terms, which is indeed roughly equivalent to a magazine or paperback.

[Michael Prescott]

I should add that your basic point about the limits of literacy in Elizabethan times is quite true. As the figures above indicate, even a bestselling play quarto wasn't expected to sell more than, say, three or four thousand copies, as compared with millions of copies for a bestselling book or popular magazine today.

[Michael Prescott]

Matt, there are lots of "group authorship" theories. As far as Oxford is concerned, it is often hypothesized that he collaborated with his son-in-law, the Earl of Derby. A foreign diplomat gossiped (in two separate letters) that Derby spent all his time penning plays for the common players.

More elaborate group authorship theories suggest a circle of literary lions who collaborated on the plays at the command of Queen Elizabeth, as part of an effort to foster nationalistic pride (by dramatizing notable events of British history).

But the distinctive voice heard throughout the canon suggests, to me, that a single author made the principal contribution, though doubtless there were revisions by other hands.

[Roger Knights]

MP: "But the distinctive voice heard throughout the canon suggests, to me, that a single author made the principal contribution, though doubtless there were revisions by other hands."

Good point. But if that voice (Oxford, say) mostly contributed tone, then someone else (an anonymous script doctor or two) could have mostly devised the plots and much of the meaning of the plays.

I like seeing Shakespeare as an impresario or Hollywood producer type, buying scripts, hiring writers and script doctors, sticking in his own two cents, etc. It's such a shocking change from the conventional image. And it's even more democratic than the standard version in assigning most of the credit to some Mr. Anonymous (script doctor).

[Discount Uniforms]

The First Folio stands as the first complete, or nearly complete, collection, but for years prior to its publication, plays attributed to Shakespeare had appeared in quarto versions.

[Linda Theil]

Hi, Michael, regarding the cost of a quarto, I agree that reasonable people might come to different conclusions. I don't know where Wikipedia comes up with a pound in Elizabethan money being equivalent to $200 current American, but I understand that some historians consider the issue of equivalence to be the most useful in determining the cost of things in various times and cultures. Some historians base this equivalence on the cost of a loaf of bread which in Elizabethan times I understand to have cost a penny. If you accept that the cost of bread today is between $4-5, you might consider that a penny in Elizabethan times is the equivalent of $4 today. Even if a quarto cost only a shilling (a low-ball figure, from the information I have seen) an Elizabethan would have had to pay the price of twelve loaves of bread to purchase a quarto (or $48 -50 in current currency)-- much more than the cost of a paperback book. I think the value of goods is a very interesting topic in itself, but I do not insist that my understanding of the value of a quarto is correct. I only wish to offer the opinion that comparing Elizabethan quartos to modern paperbacks is an inaccurate simile. I believe the simile is inaccurate on more than one level as I indicated in my original post, and which you seem to support in your acknowledgement of the small print runs. I believe the simile is inaccurate, also, because the psychology of Elizabethan communication is not accessible to modern humans: i.e. we no longer understand the way a society functions when speed of communication is measured in weeks instead of seconds. For these and other reasons (literacy rates, for example) this comparison of quartos to paperbacks is common and emblematic of an anachronistic view of the Elizabethan world that hampers real understanding of the era and its art. This easy acceptance of an easy answer to a complex topic -- an answer riddled with unfounded and untested assumptions -- is also emblematic of the entire Shakespeare authorship question. I bring this opinion up in the context of your blog, because you write lucidly on the subject and I thought you might find my POV of interest. Thanks, again, for your work.

[Michael Prescott]

Hi Linda - Thanks for the additional thoughts. Here's some more info on the price issue:

"An unbound quarto play ... probably cost 5 or 6 old pence wholesale, 7 to 9 pence retail. The latter figure approximates to the average daily wage for a London journeyman of the 1580s; one penny then bought a one-pound loaf of bread. Peter Blayney has estimated that Shakespeare's First Folio ... probable sold whole, unbound for 10 shillings and retail, unbound for 15 shillings."

http://fds.oup.com/www.oup.com/pdf/13/9780198711681.pdf

If this is correct, then it does seem that quartos would be quite expensive, and out of reach of most people. Of course most people were illiterate anyway. As you say, it was a different world. There may not be any good modern analogy for the quartos, or for any printed matter from that era.

To me, the single fact that most starkly points up the psychological differences between the Elizabethans and ourselves is that people crossing London Bridge had to pass by the severed heads of convicts mounted on spikes on the bridge railing. Birds would be pecking out the eyes as the heads rotted in the sun. This was just part of everyday life for the people of the time. It was still very much a medieval world. Because Shakespeare, in some respects, seems very modern, it's easy to forget how how alien his culture was from our own.

Thanks again!

[micro keylogger]

I love your blog! You will be in our prayers and thoughts! Nice and informative post on this topic thanks for sharing with us. Thank you!

[Heward Wilkinson]

Dear Michael
Thank you as always for your open-minded approach to these matters, occupying, as an increasing number do, on both/all sides of the fence(s), intriguing 'third positions' beyond the simple advocacy of one author claimant or another. I am an Oxfordian and do believe there is one very powerful mind behind the supreme elements in the plays, but also that there is indeed a complex tale we have not yet by any means unravelled, which involves the 6th Earl of Derby, as Peter Dickson thinks, and probably others of that circle also, who made the First Folio possible in a very unlikely sequence of events... I have only glanced at the quarto publication issue, but note the following: 1. WS or Shaksper/Shakespeare etc, apart from Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, only appears on the quartos after 1598, the year of Burghley's death and also the year Meres publishes Palladis Tamia; 2. after 1604 only Pericles and King Lear (Mr then first appears with the William Shakespeare) of authentic works are added on the as Shakespeares on the Stationers Register until Othello 1622, which was published, as Peter Dickson points out, under the sign of the Eagle and Child, Derby's insignia. No less than 18 plays are ONLY published first in the First Folio and added to the Stationers Register then. This suggests that the Troilus and Cressida preface allusion to the 'Grand Possessors' was not hyperbole.
I think, in addition to McCarthy and Feldman its worth drawing your attention on all this to Robert Brazil's alas posthumous work on Edward de Vere and the Shakespeare Printers:
http://oberonshakespearestudygroup.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/jefferson-foote-publishes-brazil.html

Thank you for your work!

Heward Wilkinson
http://hewardwilkinson.co.ukDear Michael
Thank you as always for your open-minded approach to these matters, occupying, as an increasing number do, on both/all sides of the fence(s), intriguing 'third positions' beyond the simple advocacy of one author claimant or another. I am an Oxfordian and do believe there is one very powerful mind behind the supreme elements in the plays, but also that there is indeed a complex tale we have not yet by any means unravelled, which involves the 6th Earl of Derby, as Peter Dickson thinks, and probably others of that circle also, who made the First Folio possible in a very unlikely sequence of events... I have only glanced at the quarto publication issue, but note the following: 1. WS or Shaksper/Shakespeare etc, apart from Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, only appears on the quartos after 1598, the year of Burghley's death and also the year Meres publishes Palladis Tamia; 2. after 1604 only Pericles and King Lear (Mr then first appears with the William Shakespeare) of authentic works are added on the as Shakespeares on the Stationers Register until Othello 1622, which was published, as Peter Dickson points out, under the sign of the Eagle and Child, Derby's insignia. No less than 18 plays are ONLY published first in the First Folio and added to the Stationers Register then. This suggests that the Troilus and Cressida preface allusion to the 'Grand Possessors' was not hyperbole.
I think, in addition to McCarthy and Feldman its worth drawing your attention on all this to Robert Brazil's alas posthumous work on Edward de Vere and the Shakespeare Printers:
http://oberonshakespearestudygroup.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/jefferson-foote-publishes-brazil.html

Thank you for your work!

Heward Wilkinson
http://hewardwilkinson.co.uk

[Heward Wilkinson]

My apologies for the duplication in posting due to some anomaly in the automated system.

[Michael Prescott]

Thanks, Heward. I'll take a look at Robert Brazil's work. I agree that whatever happened is a good deal more complex than we currently realize, and quite possibly we will never be able to untangle it all.

[Alan Fisk]

In Shakespeare's theatre, plays were not the property of the playwright, but of the company that put on the plays. Shakespeare could not have intervened (well, not officially) to object to pirated quartos, because they were not his. Only the company could have taken any action, which would have been limited, because there was no copyright law. It is difficult to imagine that Shakespeare, who was ruthless in collecting money that was owed to him, would not have sued if (1) he owned the rights to the plays, and (2) there was any legal basis on which he could have done so. These books are only another attempt at propping up the "Shakespeare was a front man for a committee/the Earl of Oxford/Elvis/" theory.

[Michael Prescott]

But since Shakespeare was a shareholder in the acting company, he could have intervened had he wanted to. And even if he had no legal recourse (debatable), he still could have publicly protested, as other authors did when their words were misappropriated.

So why didn't he? My guess is that Shakespeare didn't sue because he had agreed to the publication of the quartos. And he agreed to it because he had written - or rewritten - the plays.

But this means that the "bad quartos" (and some apocrypha) were really Shakespeare's versions of the plays. And since they are markedly different from the First Folio versions, it implies that there were (at least) two authors - one who wrote the original masterpieces, and another (Shakespeare) who vulgarized them for the public stage.

"Shakespeare was a front man for a committee/the Earl of Oxford/Elvis"

I hadn't heard of Elvis as a candidate, but it would make sense of Hamlet's soliloquy:

To be or not to be, that is the question.
Whether tis nobler to be nothing but a hound dog
Or to put on your blue suede shoes in the ghetto ...

That's from the bad quarto, natch.

[Ben]

Funny, Michael! Is that the quarto that also has:

...When he himself might his quietus make
With a big burger? who would Vegas bear,
To grunt and sweat on a weary stage,
But that the dread of driving all those trucks...

[Michael Prescott]

Good job, Ben!