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bear by san

March 2017



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bear by san

Ah, the so-called Shakespeare authorship question has finally reared it's ugly head on my blog. I knew it would happen eventually.

Just to get my public statement on the record regarding the whole issue, my considered opinion is that it's boring as hell, and I'm not going to discuss it, or refute it, or suffer myself to be evangelized to. I don't care if you think the plays and poems attributed to William Shakespeare were written by Christopher Marlowe, or Edward de Vere, or Francis Bacon, or Elizabeth Tudor, or Thomas Dekker's dog, or Aphra Behn for that matter.

I'm not part of a great conspiracy to prevent the just recognition of Edward de Vere as the real author of the works in question. I just really don't care.

Nor am I out to prove that Shakespeare actually wrote them. I'm a fiction writer, and what I write is fiction, and I like it that way. I'm not interested in pointless religious arguments on any topic. I don't care what you think, either: I have no investment in proselytizing you or debating with you in an effort to change your mind if you do happen to think it was Ben Jonson and Thomas Walsingham in collaboration. Knock yourself out. Have fun. Write a book; it'll make more money than mine do.

In other words, I'm pretty much with this guy over here, who presents a reasonably solid overview of the issue at hand for anybody who might be confused by my comments above, and want to read about it.

As for me, I'm off the topic. I still reserve the right to mock the hell out of Edward de Vere, however.


do it. do it.

And yeah, I am totally with Hardy on that one. Who cares?
You know, it just occurred to me that what annoys me so fucking much about the Oxfordian argument is that it boils down to--

"If you ignore the hundreds of contemporary references to Shakespeare, playwright, player, poet, philanderer, householder, and commuting Stratfordian, we have a perfectly fine alternate candidate for the throne, based on a little spurious cryptogophy and some good old English snobbishness.

"Now, wouldn't you really rather have the pedophile?"

*Hopeful blinking*

off topic

I know that I'm not on your 'read all the time' lj list, and I thought you might be interested in this.


Re: off topic

Thank you. That's a powerful piece of writing.

Re: off topic

It just seemed like something Jenny might've pondered. *grins* Or at least, the Jenny I've met in the first 130 pages of "Hammered".
Yes, I finally get a chance to read something /other than/ schoolbooks.
I am so very hooked.

Re: off topic

Oh, thank you! I'm very glad you're enjoying it. (And so is Jenny. *g* Or will be when she gets herself born, anyway.)
*nodnod* I'm with you.
Shakespeare's sister Judith wrote the plays, but as she knew that no-one would put on plays writ by a woman's hand, and trying to persuade them would probably involve the Elizabethan equivalent of the casting couch (see V Woolf's speculations on this topic in A Room of One's Own), she sensibly got her brother, the jobbing actor, to pretend that he was the author.

Oh yes, and she and Anne Hathaway were having a serious thing while Will was absent from Stratford for such long periods...
You know, this would not surprise me in the least. Not any aspect of it.

Though you can count me as one who doesn't care. The plays and sonnets stand on their own and need no defense from me or anybody.

Shakespeare family slash!

Judith and the Second-Best Bed might be a good starting title.
I am *so* with you on this.
Yet another topic on which I am agnostic, but I am howling at some of the options that have been presented. :)
Aaarrgh. Yes, and a poor Cockney doctor could not have written the Ode on a Grecian Urn. And a bad-tempered tax collector could not have written Don Quixote. What the heck, and a woman could not have written Jane Eyre (because 19th-c Yorkshirewomen could not possibly know about debauchery in Paris and the West Indies, y'know).

Bollocks bollocks bollocks to the nth power.
When students ask me what I think about the whole authorship controversy, I tell them that I truly don't care. To me, it doesn't matter who wrote the plays; what's more important is that the plays exist and I love them!
I've always thought the question more revealing of the advocate than the alleged writer.


See my comment to hernewshoes above.

At least the Kennedy theorists have the magic bullet to work with.
You speak for millions~very well.

Apropos of Nothing

Hey, I added you to my friends list a while back, but only just got around to reading your user info. I'd like to tell you I also own an English mastiff and live in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Are you still planning on moving here? It will be quite a change from the Mojave desert. My mastiff's name is Nala, and she is going on ten years old. She's a runt, and weighs in at less than 100 pounds currently. She's an enormous baby with anxiety issues (rescue dog) and she lives to go for daily walks, eat food (particularly if it's stolen), and lick her big furry ass on The Forbidden Sofa.

Re: Apropos of Nothing

Nice to meet you!

Paladin is also ten this month, and he's snoring by the bed as I type. He's a big boy--184 pounds at last weighing, and when he was younger and more muscular he was over two hundred. He's a marvelous dog.

It's looking more like southern New England currently, for various reasons, but I can't wait to get back to the snow.
I'm so with you on the not caring.

However, If you're at all a fan of mysteries (that is, the ones where we're really there just to watch our favorite characters interact again more than the crima drama sort), Martha Grimes wrote a series around British pubs, which started to slither downhill in the later books as such things do, but book #4 is called "The Dirty Duck", and features Elizabethan poetry and authorial arguments as part of some plot twists.

Not that, you know, your reading list isn't long enough, or I want you to stop working to read it. But if you feel the need for some escapist in that direction, it's not bad.
No promises, but thanks for the rec, anyway.
I would be interested in proof that the plays were written by Roger Bacon, who then went on to write the somewhat less successful works attributed to Theodore Dreiser.