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…aka classical climate theory: an ancient racialism ingrained in our thinking through the influence of intuitive humoral psychology. Sh’s generation recorded the falling from grace of this particular theory. Nowadays you’ll find it in your horoscope in any newspaper.
Thin body types are secretive, fat types are jovial, medium build types are adventurous.
Now apply this same reasoning to climate. Dark types are lusty and passionate and wise, white types are aggressive and dim-witted.
To think the northern white man was once the outcast of the human races, struggling to find its place in the histories of civilizations. An upstart crow if you will. Boy how times have changed.
Read a review here of Mary Floyd-Wilson’s book
‘English Ethnicity and Race in Early Modern Drama’ from which this new word to me is taken.
Graphic novel fans should try this new site entitled Kill Shakespeare, pitting his villains against his heroes!
Several weeks later, the graphic novel is released and reviewed to content and discontent.
Yesterday I came across this brilliant website based on Van Gogh’s letters. Now i love Vincent as much as our Will, just in a different way. I even have voice-overed Vincent’s Brother Theo in English at the Van Gogh Huis in Zundert. But hey, enough about me…
…well let me tell you a story about Vincent van gogh, he loved colour and he let it show…
Song text by Jonathan Richman. Who can forget Don Maclean with his song ‘starry starry night’?
And finally Bob Dylan. All these artists songs can be heard on this blog.
So today i’d like to show how Van Gogh was a Stratfordian.
Shakespeare — who is as mysterious as he? — his language and his way of doing things are surely the equal of any brush trembling with fever and emotion. But one has to learn to read, as one has to learn to see and learn to live.
Reminds me of sonnet 24:
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stell’d
Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart.
and the final couplet of sonnet 23:
O learn to read what silent love hath writ,
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
Here’s Vincent comparing Sh to others, in a letter to his brother Theo September, 1880:
I took up the study of this writer a long time ago now. It’s as beautiful as Rembrandt. Shakespeare is to Charles Dickens or to V. Hugo what Ruisdael is to Daubigny, and Rembrandt to Millet.
A year later another letter to Theo in Dutch:
The struggle with nature sometimes resembles what Shakespeare calls ‘Taming the shrew’ (i.e. to conquer the opposition through perseverance, willy-nilly). In many things, but more particularly in drawing, I think that delving deeply into something is better than letting it go.
Then again about portraiture to Anthon Rappard in 1881:
The portrait of Shakespeare by Menzel is unknown to me; I’d very much like to see how the one lion interpreted the other. For Menzel’s work has some resemblance to Shakespeare’s in that it LIVES, so.
For the curious you can see what Vincent missed with Menzel’s Sh portrait here.
Vincent writing to his brother in 1889 thanking him for buying him a Shakespeare edition:
I thank you also very cordially for the Shakespeare. It will help me not to forget the little English I know – but above all it’s so beautiful.
I’ve begun to read the series I know the least well, which before, being distracted by something else or not having the time it was impossible for me to read, the series of the kings. I’ve already read Richard II, Henry IV and half of Henry V. I read without reflecting on whether the ideas of the people of that time are the same as ours, or what becomes of them when one places them face to face with republican or socialist beliefs &c. But what touches me in it, as in the work of certain novelists of our time, is that the voices of these people, which in Shakespeare’s case reach us from a distance of several centuries, don’t appear unknown to us. It’s so alive that one thinks one knows them and sees it.
Finally Vincent writing to his brother and sister in 1889:
I enjoyed myself very much yesterday reading Measure for measure. Then I read Henry VIII, in which there are such beautiful passages, like the one about Buckingham, and Wolsey’s words after his downfall. I think I’m lucky to be able to read or re-read this at my leisure,
Ah yes the quotes:
Shakespeare’s Henry viii (1623), act 2, scene 1, is a ‘mirror for magistrates’. While Henry viii tries to overcome the problems created by his divorce, the fallen characters comment on their own ruin. Thus Henry, Duke of Buckingham and Earl of Stafford (1454-1483), is accused of high treason and sentenced to death. On the scaffold he addresses the crowd that has quickly gathered to witness his execution:
‘You few that lov’d me,
And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying;
Go with me like good angels to my end,
And as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice
And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on a’ God’s name.’
The manipulative Cardinal Wolsey (1471-1530), Archbishop of York, loses his wealth and power when his crimes are revealed. He forfeits his royal protection and is attacked from all sides. Full of remorse, Wolsey addresses his servant with great emotion (act 3, scene 2):
‘And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee;
Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way (out of his wrack) to rise in …
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition,
By that sin fell the angels; how can man then,
The image of his maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee;
Corruption wins not more than honesty.’
See Henry viii. Ed. R.A. Foakes. 3th ed. London 1957, pp. 55, 124.
Ah Reggie Foakes, another day another blog!
Approaching six thousand readers. Thank you for reading. OK maybe three thousand are me, but that still leaves 3,000. Why that’s the capacity crowd of the Globe Theater. The old one then.
It is a commonplace of blogs to mourn the lack of readership. But then why do it? It is because you read and that, dear readers, is an ephemerally dangerous thing for both of us.
Reading exposes you to ideas. Any one of those ideas can change your life. Alternatively those ideas can confirm what you already know, or think you know.
Some people don’t like to read, others’ fetishise it. Some like fiction some like non-fiction. Some like fantasy, others’ reality.
Not everyone likes to write. Writing is confrontational. The writer is the most tortured of all souls. Total gules!
‘Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from variation or quick change?
(now tell me the writer didn’t think about that word ‘variation’ ie 3 or 4 syllables followed by
‘quick change’ a synonym for what he just said)?
Why with the time do I not glance aside,
To new found methods and to compounds strange?
(Surely this a statement of how the writer sees his own writing style. Similar to the advice Hamlet gives to the actors)?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed?
(I see an anagram of “Hey, I is Will, not Vere” in that first line.
Could Sh be advocating smoking of da herb here ‘in a noted weed’)?
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth and where they did proceed?
(Note the rime word ‘pro-ceed’ with ‘weed’! Sh was ‘for-seeds’! Meaning he was a grower. “Let me grow” is hidden in anagram in these lines)!
O know sweet love I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument:
(A perennial argument for poets and musicians, as the rock band The Who would ask centuries later: who are YOU)?
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent.
(So words are like fashion, clothing his poem with old and new,
and as is usual with spendthrifts, bankrupting him)?
For as the Sun is daily new and old,
So is my love still telling what is told.
(Are you telling us or asking us? Does this mean you’re going shopping again? Can I have my credit card back)?
you can find this sonnet here
…More and more YLS is leaning toward the Catholic Sh. I’d never heard of this writer before today but will be sure to get his book and peruse. Joseph Pearce is a former skinhead turned Catholic. Regardez his website here.
Add to that the amazing website of shakespeare’s sonnets, while we’re linking, and ‘ave a butcher’s at the Carrier’s Cosmography a coach guide for London circa 1637 and the close-up pictures of London Bridge back in Sh’s day.
The above is maintained by Oxquarry Books Ltd. Many thanks for all the links they provide.
What follows is from G. a fellow student in my class at the Shakespeare Institute, which sums up our conclusions then and now on the biography of Sh.:
But as you and I used to agree in and out of our cups, the more you look at what’s really known about S. the best that can be said is that you could write his biography on the back of a beer mat and half of it would be shite.
Yours Aye,
G
And yet we both remain Stratfordians!
…aka Sh’s greatest creation: Hamlet.
Who doesn’t know Hamlet? His line is probably the most quoted and quotable on the planet, I’ll start you off: 2b…
Every actor wants to play Hamlet, read the poem here.
Every conspiracist can prove Hamlet was their man, showing him as their man.
Every critic owns the opinion on Hamlet. If you want the real skinny on Hammy, Steve Roth breaks it down here.
This Boxing Day the BBC showed RSC director Gregory Doran’s made for TV version. Dr Who played him this year on his crossover to Hollywood fame and fortune. Supported by Captain Jean Luc Picard doing a double of Claudius and Hamlet’s father. What is Hamlet’s father’s first name btw?
Now YLS loves Hamlet and intermittently tries to learn all his soliloquies just because. Ergo watching the play is to join in the longest role as if it’s a karaoke event. And I know I’m not alone in this.
But thinking too closely on Hamlet is like to drive one mad. The timeline (would to heaven Sh used the Unities on this one), his madness (feigned or no), Ophelia (weepy helpless victim or no), his father’s ghost (real or contrived. Catholic or Protestant), his mum’s behaviour (Royal slapper or dizzy alcofrolic), his age (angst-ridden teen or dithering thirty year old), Rozencrantz and Guildenstern (good mates or royal sponges), Horatio (who is this guy), etc etc.
What stood out this time through were several words like matter and custom. And the bird metaphors nestled in the Osric scene especially: chough, lapwing, sparrow.
Oh yes and the ironic parallel between Hamlet not killing Claudius while he was at prayer and Laertes assertion that he would be revenged on Hamlet, as his father’s son, and in deed undertake
‘to cut his throat i’ th’ church’.
To which Claudius replies:
‘No place indeed should murder sanctuarize; revenge should have no bounds.’
Lucky for him Hamlet scanned that thought.
All Hamlets’ are never the true Hamlet. There are always changes and cuts made in the text. And then again which text do we refer to? (don’t go there on an empty stomach).
The plot furtherance of posioned swords in a duel is talked of while Hamlet is on his way to be executed in England.
No matter!
The stupidest thing Hamlet says in the play is
“what is the reason that you use me thus?”
when Laertes attacks him at Ophelia’s grave.
Duh! You killed his old man! Not to mention driving his sister to suicide! This is not a thought that has been quartered.
But no matter! Hamlet is Hamlet, and he is mad and sent into England where the men are as mad as he. Let be.
..the Times of London reports on our Will’s possible trip to Rome during his so-called Lost Years. Whatever the truth of this one I love it.
Here’s the link
And here’s the article in case pressing the link is too much effort:
Cryptic signatures that ‘prove Shakespeare was a secret Catholic’
A 1586 visitors book entry by “Arthurus Stratfordus”
A 1586 entry by “Arthurus Stratfordus”, thought to be a pseudonym of William Shakespeare, in the visitors’ book at the Venerable English College in Rome
Richard Owen in Rome
Three mysterious signatures on pages of parchment bound in leather and kept under lock and key may prove the theory that William Shakespeare was a secret Catholic who spent his “lost years” in Italy.
An exhibition at the Venerable English College, the seminary in Rome for English Catholic priests, has revealed cryptic names in its guest books for visiting pilgrims, suggesting that the playwright sought refuge there.
“Arthurus Stratfordus Wigomniensis” signed the book in 1585, while “Gulielmus Clerkue Stratfordiensis” arrived in 1589.
According to Father Andrew Headon, vice-rector of the college and organiser of the exhibition, the names can be deciphered as “[King] Arthur’s [compatriot] from Stratford [in the diocese] of Worcester” and “William the Clerk from Stratford”.
A third entry in 1587, “Shfordus Cestriensis”, may stand for “Sh[akespeare from Strat]ford [in the diocese] of Chester”, he said.
The entries fall within the playwright’s “missing years” between 1585, when he left Stratford abruptly, and 1592, when he began his career as playwright in London.
“There are several years which are unaccounted for in Shakespeare’s life,” Father Headon said, adding that it was very likely that the playwright had visited Rome and was a covert Catholic.
The “Shakespeare” entries are being kept in the college’s archive for security reasons but have been reproduced for the exhibition, which illustrates the history of the college from its origins as a medieval pilgrims’ hospice to a refuge for persecuted Catholics during the Reformation.
Set in the college’s extensive 14th-century crypt, the exhibition conveys the clandestine atmosphere of underground Catholicism, with its spies and priests’ bolt holes. It traces the secret journeys made by Catholics to Rome and by Jesuit priests from Rome to England “to defend their faith despite the risk of being caught, tortured and martyred”.
In a recent book, a German biographer of Shakespeare, Hildegard Hammerschmidt-Hummel, said that she had “come to the conclusion that Shakespeare was a Catholic and that his religion is the key to understanding his life and work”.
Professor Hammerschmidt-Hummel said that Shakespeare’s parents, friends and teachers were Catholics, as were some of his patrons, including the Earl of Southampton, who concealed Catholic priests at his country seat, Titchfield Abbey, and his London residence.
Further proof was his purchase of the eastern gatehouse at Blackfriars — a secret meeting place for fugitive Catholics — in London in 1613, she said.
Backers of the theory say that plays such as Romeo and Juliet and Measure for Measure are “rich in Catholic thought and rituals”, with positive depictions of priests and monks and invocations of the Virgin Mary.
Five of his 37 plays are set in Italy, another five wholly or partly in Rome and three in Sicily.
The English College exhibition, Non Angli sed Angeli, runs until July 2010.
…apparently some diplomatic wags made this one up when discussing Kaiser Wilhelm’s forays into peace making on his extreme eastern front.
I derived it from the book titled ‘The Orientalist’ sub-titled ‘Solving the Mystery of a Strange and Dangerous Life’ by Tom Reiss.
He is seeking the eventful history of Kurban Said, aka Essad Bey aka Leo Naussimbaum.
We trace his origins in Baku, the oil rich capital of Azerbaijan, and his subsequent escape and wanderings as a stateless refugee.
It makes fascinating reading about the revolutionary shiftings of the times in which he lived. So many things we Western Europeans never even broach in our histories.
I feel closer to understanding why Stalin and Hitler came to power, as he outlines the horrific events that prompted their rise.
The link to our Bard is tenuous yet important to sticking it to one of conspiracy theorists’ perennial arguments.
The fact that Shakespeare’s family (excluding Gilbert whose signature we have) were illiterate.
Illiteracy does not mean you have no soul, no poetry. So what John and Mary Shakespeare and Shakespeare’s wife and daughters were illiterate.
Words arise in the heart and soul of a person and for many thousands of years their transmission was oral. Tongues speaking what the heart and mind desired.
Illiteracy does not mean you lose the power to think and articulate ideas. Or that you are cut off from ideas that are transmitted by books, a simple e.g. the Bible.
Reiss describes on pages 94-95 of Leo experiencing the last of the “poetry contests” that illiterate peasants would hold in village after village, which came to represent (for him) everything noble about the Caucasian culture. These contests were native to the Caucasus and Persia and thousands of years old.
In exchange for gifts, treats, and affection, they would compose verses on the spot and could recite something pious or obscene on the spot.
There were no restrictions of rank or wealth: only skill counted. The contestants would face off on an open square and face off in every genre.
Often the audience would suggest a theme, and the poets would improvise on it.
Leo’s most famous description is in his book ‘Ali and Nino’. The competitors dressed in silken robes, strut in front of the crowd, eyeing each other suspiciously, until one lets loose a volley of verse:
“Your clothes stink of dung, your face is that of a pig, your talent is as thin as the hair on a virgin’s stomach, and for a little money you would compose a poem on your own shame.”
The other answered, barking grimly: “you wear the robe of a pimp, you have the voice of a eunuch. You cannot sell your talent, because you never had any. You live off the crumbs that fall from the festive table of my genius.”
(this opening salvo is reminiscent of the dissing contests of modern day rappers).
…Then an old grey-haired man with the face of an apostle arrived, and announced the two themes for the competition: “the moon over the river Araxes” and “the death of Aga Mohammed Shah”…
Then the more soft-spoken one cried out: “What is like the moon over the Araxes?”
“The face of thy beloved,” interrupted the grim one.
“Mild is the moon’s gold!” cried the soft-spoken one.
“No, it is like a fallen warrior’s shield,” replied the grim one. In time they exhausted their similes.
Then each of them sang a song about the beauty of the moon, of the river Araxes, that winds like a maiden’s plait through the plain…
Now i am not suggesting for a minute that Elizabethan poetry (or rap) is influenced by Eastern poetry contests.
Though let’s not forget many an Englishman and European had passed, like barbarian hordes, through these lands on the 3 crusades; slaughtering Christian and Moslim alike.
But the truth is that illiterates can have poetry in their soul. If it is true for illiterate Caucasian peasants, it is equally true for the rising Elizabethan middle classes.
Truth and facts, as Leo complains later in this book, are two completely different things. And truth is the higher of the two.
‘O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
for thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed,
Since truth and beauty on my love depends,
so dost thou too, and therein dignified.’
Sonnet 101: 1-4.
…the world has lost another Shakespearean Antiquarian. Louis Marder’s life is illustrated below by those who knew and loved the man. Here i would like to add my acquaintance with the scholar whose work I knew was integral to my own method.
The date the early 1990’s, neophyte Will asking for answers on the Sh riddles he was dealing with. Louis Marder replied with a list starting with there is not a scintilla of proof, not an iota of doubt, not a shred of evidence etc for some 60 replies to the common arguments used against the Stratford man. Unfortunately the list was incomplete.
Eager for more i mailed him back and he replied something went wrong with the email but he hoped to have it all finished and ready for eventual publication as the Shakespeare Data Bank. Reading his obituary I understand why it never came to pass. I’ll find the list and post it as a page.
Anitquarian is probably the best term for scholars like Louis. For one it feels okay to use his first name and not his title. For two it best describes how scholars like him go to work: i.e. uncover everything known about SH however tenuous. Lastly antiquarians leave so much research material behind, thousands of future scholars can find material for papers and theses.
Imagine if you could unleash the zeal of Conspiracists on the historical record reasearching the acknowledged author in all his mundanity and genius? That may offer up a result, as to whether he did or didn’t write the plays, quicker than postulating and ululating upon some Noble candidate or dead playwright.
Nuff said.
From: Hardy M. Cook
Date: Monday, December 14, 2009
Subject: Obit: Louis Marder
Louis Marder
I learned late last week from a SHAKSPER digest that was returned to me that Louis Marder died on December 3.
Louis Marder, of course, founded the Shakespeare Newsletter (ShN) in 1951 and edited it until 1991 when the English Department at Iona College began publishing it under the editorship of Tom Pendleton and John Mahon. I worked with Louis during the late 1980s until the transfer of ShN and then continued to work as a Contributing Editor with John and Tom for many years after that.
I was fond of Louis Marder; he was a character, a Damon Runyonesque character.
He was a walking advertisement for his projects, seeking donations from anyone who would give. He was persistently hustling for the projects close to him. He would carry back issues of ShN to SAA meetings and give them out as enticements for people to subscribe. He would carry signed copies of his book _His Exits and His Entrances: The Story of Shakespeare’s Reputation_ with him virtually everywhere he went to peddle to anyone who would purchase a autographed copy or two. At the Boston Bar Association Mock Trail broadcast over PBS at which he defended William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon as true author of the plays and poems bearing his name, he even tried to sell copies to those present:
WFL: Good. Are you also the author of a book on Shakespeare entitled His Exits and His Entrances: The Story of Shakespeare? LM: Affirmative. I have copies to sell.
WFL: And do you have extra copies of that tonight?
LM: Autographed!
He shamelessly solicited copies of books (on virtually any topic however tenuously related to Shakespeare studies for his enormous library and collection of Shakespeareana). In 1993 claimed to have 20,000 items of Shakespeare memorabilia in his collection. He once told me that “I’m not a scholar; I’m an antiquarian,” but is also quoted as saying, “I know more crap about Shakespeare than anyone else in the world.” He accepted advertisements in ShN from Oxfordians and other Anti-Stratfordians, but he was among their fiercest critics, speaking out at every opportunity afforded him. Marder was, nevertheless, considered a friend by many Oxfordians, including except Russell des Cognets, whom Marder referred to as “my personal friend and sometime patron.”
Louis was never tentative in his remarks. No, he told it as he saw it — If you idea was crap he would say it was crap. Blunt, to the point, that was Louis Marder. He also was a bit crude. He told me on a number of occasions the story about the subscriber who would tell him that he loved The Shakespeare Newsletter because he could read it all in one shitting.
Surprised that I was not able to find an obituary for him online, I decided to make one of my own.
Louis Marder was born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1915, the son of an Austro-Hungarian immigrant who washed windows in Brooklyn.
In 1990, he wrote in his own obituary:
“He won a prize for a Shakespeare skit on Julius Caesar in a charity camp when he was fourteen. He memorized Shakespeare quotations. After two of his eight years in night school at Brooklyn College as a pre-med (he worked during the day) he became an English major and went back to his old love, Shakespeare.”
“He had a year of Shakespeare at Brooklyn College, started a Shakespeare Club there with the motto, Spirits are not finely touched but to fine issues, founded an Arts Appreciation Society, married me [Louis was pretending to be his own wife writing the obit.] in 1940 [we have two children, M.B.A Dan a computer engineer with Xerox and Dr. Diana a clinical psychologist], won the Senior Award and Student Council Award at graduation in 1941, went to Columbia in 1941, was drafted in 1943, served three years and two days, came home in 1946, went, back to complete his M.A (1947), earned his Ph.D. in June 1950, and started The Shakespeare Newsletter in March 1951. After that, for forty years I wondered whether he was married to me or to Shakespeare.”
Marder spent most of his teaching career at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
The reason for posting his obituary was to find a home for ShN so that he could work full-time on his latest project, The Shakespeare Data Bank (SDB). Marder’s idea for the SDB was expansive:
“There are many thousands of references and no library can have them all. With the SDB fully implemented every scholar would have the same access to all the material. He thought that many controversies and questions would be resolved, better teaching and study possible, staging would be improved, and repetitious scholarship eliminated if there was the solid foundation of a Shakespeare Data Bank in which all that we know and all that will be known is compiled, condensed, simplified, fully cross-referenced and indexed for easy reference wherever a computer was available. We would be able to see all problems steadily and see them whole.”
Marder understood intellectually the power of computers, but the specifics of how computers worked escaped him. He would call me and ask what I considered naive questions for someone planning a project as large as the SDB. I think that had I been wealthy enough or without a wife and family that he would have loved me to move to Evanston so that I could deal with the technical matters associated with this project for him.
With the exception of some vanity work and a glossary, his only book was _His Exits and His Entrances: The Story of Shakespeare’s Reputation_ (386 pgs. J. B. Lippincott: Philadelphia, 1963). Copies of this book can be found at online second-hand and rare books sites like Alibris. Members of Questia (www.questia.com) can read it online.
Louis Marder will probably be long associated with the Boston Bar Association’s Mock Trial that was featured on the PBS Frontline program “The Shakespeare Mystery” (Nov. 12, 1993). Marder was the expert witness who presented the case for William Shakespeare of Stratford upon Avon. WFL: Excuse me. Now, Mr. Marder, I’d like to go to the merits of the controversy and first ask you whether or not, in your opinion, you can prove to this jury that William Shakespeare of Stratford-on-Avon was the Shakespeare of London who wrote the plays attributed to him?
LM: One can answer the question, Can I? Yes, I can.
This answer is Louis Marder at his best, confident and direct.
In the years after transferring the ShN to Iona College, Marder continued to work on his beloved SDB and periodically made an appearance when the Anti-Stratfordians would rear their heads. In 1999 he sent a letter to Harper’s rebutting the claims of Oxfordians. A revised version of that letter was published on SHAKSPER .
The last reference to him online that I can find is his 2007 being awarded the honorary title Director Emeritus by The Board of Directors of the Shakespeare Society of America (SSA), an organization he helped found. The award reads,
November 15, 2007
The Board of Directors of the Shakespeare Society of America (SSA) are proud to acknowledge that Dr. Louis Marder has distinguished himself through his lifelong dedication to the Works of William Shakespeare and his scholarly support of the SSA. Herein we bestow the honorary title of Director Emeritus with membership in the Shakespeare Society of America for life. Dr. Marder’s illustrious academic career began at Kent State University in Ohio before he relocated to the University of Illinois in Chicago, College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, Department of English. He produced the Shakespeare Newsletter (SNL) for forty years. That dedication speaks volumes about his endurance as a globally recognized Shakespearean Scholar to promote the Works of Shakespeare.
Yes, it does. Rest in peace Louis Marder.
Hardy M. Cook
Editor of SHAKSPER
PS: In addition to the links mentioned above, I have scanned Marder’s 1990 April Fool’s obituary and mounted it on the SHAKSPER server at Marder PDF I hope that John and Tom will not mind.
And a final note after that intimate biography from Hardy. Thanks to the interweb the full text of his book is available to be read online here.
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St Paul’s in the background. Willl in the foreground on the Bankside, on the Globe Piazza.