Browsers at conservative Web sites have probably seen adverts for The Quest for Shakespeare by Joseph Pearce, which, according to the publisher, is –
a stimulating and vivid biography of the world’s most revered writer that is sure to be controversial. Unabashedly provocative, with scholarship, insight and keen observation, Pearce strives to separate historical fact from fiction about the beloved Bard.
Actually, he is interested in only one historical fact or fiction: Shakespeare’s religious affiliation. His theses are, first, that the playwright was, “beyond a reasonable doubt”, a Roman Catholic and, second, that his faith is crucial to understanding his works.
The first is not an outlandish idea. Among the writers of his day, Shakespeare is noteworthy for the absence of anti-Catholic animus. His history plays fall outside the popular “elect nation” paradigm, in which England’s story is identified with the advance of Protestantism and the rejection of Papal authority. He puts nuns, friars, cardinals and Catholic rulers on the stage without suggesting that they are other than normal human beings. His most famous hero whispers, “Nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins remembered” and converses with a soul from Purgatory. His most famous buffoon was originally named after a proto-Protestant martyr; complaints from the man’s descendants prompted a switch from “Oldcastle” to the less controversial “Falstaff”.
From these signs alone, one can be fairly certain that the Bard of Avon was out of step with the bigoted Protestantism of many of his countrymen, and might well have been a Catholic himself. Not many scholars believe, however, that such inferences from negative evidence are enough to support an indisputable verdict.
Mr. Pearce’s confident judgement rests not on the works but on scattered facts about the author and his family. He has taken them almost entirely at second hand. His main authority is Michael Wood, whom he describes as “an historian of some repute”. Mr. Wood is, in reality, a film maker, whose In Search of Shakespeare was written to accompany a BBC television production. He is able at what he does, but what he does isn’t path-breaking literary and historical scholarship. His book rarely cites sources, speculates well beyond the data, and ignores interpretations that don’t fit his thesis. The Quest for Shakespeare accepts his conclusions as proven, without subjecting them to even cursory analysis.
The Wood-Pearce argument for Shakespeare’s Catholicism boils down to this: His father John Shakespeare’s name appears on a Catholic profession of faith discovered in the 18th Century (and since lost again). A few other facts are consistent with the hypothesis that John was a Papist for at least part of his life (and a few others need explaining away). His mother’s relatives included many Catholics. An appreciable number of residents of his home town, Stratford-upon-Avon, clung to the old religion. His daughter Susanna, though married to an outspoken Protestant, has been suspected of Catholicism on the ground that she appears once in a list of Stratford townspeople who missed Easter communion. There is no affirmative record that Shakespeare himself ever received the Anglican sacrament. His friends and business associates included known or likely Catholics. A note written 70 or more years after his death, by a man in no particular position to know, states, “He died a Papist.”
In a period when cross-sectarian relationships were commonplace, that is thin gruel. Mr. Pearce thickens it with speculation. His method consists of composing a narrative on the assumption that Shakespeare was a committed Catholic and finding ways to fit as many facts as possible into it. No one during the Bard’s lifetime suggested that he did not conform to the Established Church. He was baptized, wed and buried within it, as were his wife and children. His name appears on no lists of recusants. All that could have been a blind, as Mr. Pearce expatiates at length, but it is a bold step to be certain that appearances deceive us.
There are also indications that whatever pro-Catholic sympathies Shakespeare felt were more emotional than ideological. If he was in fact a practicing Papist, it is odd that the version of Scripture he most often uses is the Geneva Bible, a hardline Protestant translation whose notes brim with hostility toward the Church of Rome. [Naseeb Shaheen, Biblical References in Shakespeare’s Plays, pp. 38ff. (2002).] Furthermore, his and John Fletcher’s Henry VIII climaxes with the birth of, and a lavish tribute to, Queen Elizabeth, whose death Mr. Pearce is sure he greeted with delight. Macbeth roundly condemns the Gunpowder Plot and “equivocation” (which Protestants routinely associated with Catholicism), praises the House of Stuart and endorses King James’ platform of “concord, peace and unity” (IV.iii.97-100) – hardly signs of hostility to the new, Protestant dynasty.
Mr. Pearce ignores all such objections to his thesis. So far as I can tell, he is unaware of their existence. He is, on the other hand, much aware of facts that aren’t so, such as, to take an especially egregious instance, “that the Elizabethan-Jacobean theatrical world was strongly Catholic in spirit” [p. 98], a view that he picks up from a secondary source but that no one who has read non-Shakespearean plays from that era, brimming with anti-Papist bombast, could possibly share. As noted above, the absence of overt anti-Catholicism makes Shakespeare’s oeuvre stand out from his contemporaries.
All in all, I see no way to render a verdict on Shakespeare’s religious allegiance more definitive than “Not Proven”. Nonetheless, we may, as a thought experiment, imagine that Mr. Pearce’s confidence is justifiable. How significant would the “fact” of Shakespeare’s Catholicism be?
Mr. Pearce’s answer is a classic of what C. S. Lewis called “the personal heresy”, the belief that literature is, first and foremost, an expression of the author’s personality and should be read in that light. Mr. Pearce alters “personality” to “personhood” but otherwise stands on the side of E. M. W. Tillyard in the famous Lewis-Tillyard debate (The Personal Heresy: A Controversy (1939)). There Lewis argued that what is important about a literary work is what is “public”, that is, discernible to any reader who is literate in the author’s language and possessed of the knowledge common to his milieu. What the author himself thought or felt or meant to convey is of interest only to his biographer. “I maintain that when we read poetry as poetry should be read, we have before us no representation which claims to be the poet, and frequently no representation of a man, a character, or a personality at all [emphasis in original].”
Mr. Pearce, by contrast, asserts, “Even if we accept, as we should, that a great work of literature will have a profundity of meaning beyond the conscious design of the author, we still need to see the transcendent beauty through the prism of the personhood of the author [pp. 177–78, emphasis in original].” Hence,
We must know what the author believed in order to know what he is saying and doing in his work. We must empathize with, even if we don’t sympathize with, the author’s beliefs. Failure to understand the author’s beliefs will lead to a failure to understand the work. Our prejudice or our ignorance will have made us blind. [p. 178]
An approach to reading books cannot be incorrect in the same sense as an approach to solving equations, but it can be profitless. If our appreciation is vitiated by ignorance of “what the author believed”, any work by an unknown author is condemned ipso facto to an inferior rank. We know nothing reliable about what Homer believed. Le Morte d’Arthur bears an author’s name, Sir Thomas Malory, to which scholars have attached a patchy biography; the beliefs that can be inferred from that biography do nothing to help us understand the last great chivalric romance. Tens of thousands of other works languish in anonymity or auctorial obscurity. As for those writers whose lives and opinions are thoroughly documented, are we to read their biographies before their novels, plays and poems? That is the inescapable corollary of Mr. Pearce’s doctrine. Were it to become universal, it would kill off reading altogether.
What’s more, the doctrine works poorly even when applied to Mr. Pearce’s particular quest. He has convinced himself that William Shakespeare was a Roman Catholic. There were, however, many flavors of Catholicism in that era, ranging from fanatics of the Guy Fawkes/Robert Persons stamp to saintly dissidents like Edmund Campion and Henry Garnet to loyal subjects like the court musician William Byrd to nominal believers whose adherence to Rome was a matter of heredity, fashion or contrariness, like Ben Jonson, Edward de Vere and countless country gentlemen. Mr. Pearce doesn’t pretend to know where on the spectrum the author of King Lear fell. How, then, can he claim a true understanding of his beliefs?
The last part of The Quest for Shakespeare is a reading of Lear that, Mr. Pearce avers, “shows how our knowledge of the playwright’s religious faith and philosophy permits us to read the plays through the eyes of the playwright himself [p. 10]”.
Really? One of the leading themes of the Pearce interpretation is that the play protests against the secularization of the English state under Elizabeth and James. What in the biographical factoids that Messrs. Wood and Pearce have assembled suggests that Shakespeare held the anachronistic view of the relationship between Church and State that Mr. Pearce attributes to him? Some Roman Catholics, like Father Persons and Cardinal Allen, favored a Catholic confessional state. Others, including many rank-and-file Catholics, thought that the Pope had provoked persecution by foolishly “deposing” Elizabeth from her throne. Neither of those positions is easily reconcilable with the “meta-historical” meaning that Mr. Pearce discovers. In lieu of “the playwright’s religious faith and philosophy”, we seem to have what a 21st Century Roman Catholic apologist would like them to have been.
Without pretending to possess a window into the author’s heart, I can’t help concluding that The Quest for Shakespeare is primarily a venture in wish fulfillment. William Shakespeare would indeed be an ornament to the 16th Century Catholic Church, but rational scholarship is a greater ornament still.