Richard Wilson. Secret Shakespeare: studies in theatre, religion and resistance. Manchester, U.K. : Manchester University Press, 2004. x+326pp. ISBN 0 7190 7024 4.
James Ellison
University of Dundee
jamesellison@blueyonder.co.uk
Ellison, James. "Review of Richard Wilson,Secret Shakespeare: studies in theatre, religion and resistance." Early Modern Literary Studies 12.2 (September, 2006) 17.1-10 <URL:http://purl.oclc.org/emls/12-2/revwilso.htm>.
Wilson's account of Jacobean Shakespeare begins with increasing doubts
about the Jesuits, to the point where they can be portrayed as monsters
and Machiavels. This might seem a somewhat unlikely turn in an exploration
of Shakespeare's Catholic leanings, but it is well attested that relationships
between the Jesuits and their more moderate English co-religionists had
by now deteriorated into extreme acrimony: many of the latter were by now
convinced that the Jesuits were a liability, whose efforts had only succeeded
in greatly worsening the living conditions of the vast majority of English
Catholics. It is, therefore, just conceivable that the attack on the Jesuits
in Macbeth is written from this perspective, as Wilson claims, rather
than being a more straightforward expression of the widespread revulsion
felt by English Protestants of all shades of opinion at the Gunpowder Plot;
and some interesting new material on the connections between witches and
Jesuits is presented here. Equally, Iago can be interpreted as a portrait
of a Catholic Machiavel, as other critics have recently noted: Iago's devilry
does seem to be intended as some sort of anti-Catholic jibe, recalling the
great Spanish saint St. Iago de Compostela whose intercession was supposed
to have helped defeat the Moors, and Wilson makes some fine comments on
the liminal status of Venice, poised between Catholicism and a move to something
approaching the via media of the Church of England.Wilson goes on to read
the statue scene in The Winter's Tale very attractively, as a staged
religious event whose language is precisely tailored to be acceptable to
both Protestants and Catholics. But in The Tempest, he puts excessive
weight upon Prospero's chance mention of 'indulgence' in the epilogue (as
other critics of this persuasion have done): Prospero is a living person,
not a soul in purgatory, and his remarks are some way removed from the discredited
Catholic practice of indulgences and prayers for the dead. Furthermore,
any Catholic aura one might find in these words may have more to do with
the remarkable resemblances between Prospero and the Emperor Rudolf II noted
by Robert Grudin and David Scott Kastan and mentioned with approval by Wilson
himself earlier in the book: Shakespeare may thus be more concerned to allegorize
the extremely tense religious situation in central and southern Europe in
some way, rather than to make a personal statement of faith.
The work's final chapter is in many ways the most interesting. Inquiring
into what might have recommended King Lear for performance by a recusant
troop of players in Yorkshire in 1610, Wilson has some fine comments on
another play in their repertoire, the remarkably ecumenical Travels of
the Three English Brothers by Day, Rowley, and George Wilkins (1607);
and his argument that Cordelia's exile to France has something to do with
the disillusionment of English Catholics in the early years of James I's
reign seems broadly convincing. He also points out most intriguingly that
the Catholic Cholmleys, the players' patrons, were long-time local rivals
of the notorious Sir Thomas Hoby, who may be satirised as Malvolio in Twelfth
Night, and adduces some fascinating material on the subsequent prosecution
of the players.
Richard Wilson has done more than any other critic in this field to contextualise
Shakespeare's persistent contact with Roman Catholicism, and this marks
a major step forward in our understanding of the poet's religious and political
attitudes. However, those uninitiated in the current debate over Shakespeare's
religion should be warned that it represents a somewhat one-sided account.
The very notion of a 'secret Shakespeare' is highly debatable. A penchant
for personal secrecy is no infallible sign of Catholic leanings at this
time: Christopher Marlowe is far more secretive and elusive figure than
Shakespeare for example, but he is most unlikely to have had Catholic sympathies.
The exact religious position of many Renaissance lay authors, secretive
or otherwise, can be remarkably hard to tie down, and of course may change
over time. Furthermore, it is an oft-repeated truism that we actually know
a remarkable amount about Shakespeare by comparison with many other writers
of the period; he didn't cover his tracks specially well, and circulated
a sequence of sonnets which strike most readers as remarkably frank and
confessional in tone by comparison with those of many of his contemporaries.
Secret Catholics had no monopoly on interiority: Protestant writers could
be just as inward-looking, meditative, and politically alienated as Catholic
ones, as the long and often rather distinguished tradition of vernacular
psalm translation frequently tells us. Patronage connections are scarcely
more helpful to Wilson's argument. A great deal is made in this book of
Shakespeare's associations with the Earl of Southampton and the Catholic
Montagues of Sussex, but this tells us little about Shakespeare's own position:
George Gascoigne, for example, was quite happy to compose entertainments
for both the Montagues and the Earl of Leicester. Furthermore, Southampton
converted from Catholicism to the Church of England at around the high-point
of Shakespeare's dramatic career (c.1600-1604), and subsequently pursued
a career as a pillar of the strongly Protestant Virginia Company, and later
as a warrior for the Protestant Cause in the Low Countries; little of this
is discussed in Wilson's book. And Shakespeare's precise relationship with
Southampton (and the Earl of Essex for that matter) is still lamentably
unclear.
The logic of Wilson's exploration of a politique Shakespeare leads him
to several unlikely judgements. Thus the dramatist's supposedly craven silence
on the Catholic martyrs is somewhat harshly equated with the notorious refusal
of the politique Duc d'Alençon to lift a finger to save Campion, during
the middle of the former's marriage negotiations with Elizabeth (37). And
it is hard to imagine Shakespeare making common cause with the crypto-Catholic
Lord Henry Howard (subsequently Earl of Northampton), as Wilson suggests
(283): he is more likely to have satirized the unlovely Howard as Wolsey
in Henry VIII. Furthermore, if Shakespeare's plays are dramas of
religious allegiance, English Catholics were by no means the only group
to represent a threat to national stability. During the latter 1580s and
the 1590s Elizabeth was just as worried about allegiance among her Protestant
noblemen such as Leicester and the Earl of Essex as she was about Catholic
unrest: anyone entrusted with command of one of her great armies was potentially
a powerful threat.
Some of the work's occasional lapses in scholarly accuracy reveal a similar
bias. For example, the Stanleys (Henry and Ferdinando) are incorrectly described
as third and fourth earls (they were in fact fourth and fifth earls respectively),
and Wilson's assertion of their Catholic leanings is questionable. Another
crucial figure in this debate is Sir Edwin Sandys (incorrectly cited as
Sir Edward): as the man who is credited with having converted Southampton
to Protestantism, and the author of the greatest work of moderate and eirenic
Protestantism of the period (his Relation of the State of Religion in
Western Europe, 1599), Sandys surely deserves to be taken more seriously
in a study of this nature. And I found it disconcerting to be informed that
the fable of Shakespeare's deer-poaching from Sir Thomas Lucy should be
interpreted as deriving from a real incident prompted by Catholic resentment
against the Protestant Lucys: 'So, though trivialised by biographers, Shakespeare's
participation in this religious riot looks ominous in the light of Catholic
resistance' (114). As with many of Wilson's observations, this one (deriving
from the nineteenth-century critic Richard Simpson) is intriguing but wildly
speculative. Personally, I'm still on the side of the kill-joy biographers
so roundly chided here.
Responses to this piece intended for the Readers' Forum may be sent to the Editor at M.Steggle@shu.ac.uk.