Anti-Stratfordianism on the Screen

This could be hilarious:

Fresh from annihilating the entire planet in 2012, Roland Emmerich is soon to set to work on the reputation of the Bard himself, William Shakespeare, with Anonymous.

It’s a major departure for Emmerich, who’s abandoning global cataclysms and puppies-in-peril for sonnets and subterfuge, and swapping CGI for live action. Anonymous tackles the thorny theory that's circulated for the past 100 years that Shakespeare’s plays were, in fact, written by Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford. . . .

So how does Emmerich describe Anonymous? “It’s a mix of a lot of things: it’s an historical thriller because it’s about who will succeed Queen Elizabeth and the struggle of the people who want to have a hand in it. It’s the Tudors on one side and the Cecils on the other, and in between [the two] is the Queen. Through that story we tell how the plays written by the Earl of Oxford ended up labelled ‘William Shakespeare’.”

The reporter goes on to confuse Robert Cecil with his father William, Lord Burghley. Whether that muddle comes from Mr. Emmerich, I don’t know, but the casting of David Thewlis, languid romantic werewolf, as old, fat, gouty Burghley suggests a certain casualness about mere historicity.

What I look forward to is learning which of the batty Oxenfordian theories about their idol’s political role will wind up on the screen. Roger Stritmatter’s notion that he fathered the Earl of Southampton on Queen Elizabeth and resented her refusal to name the child as her heir? Nina Green’s that he was the prime mover in James VI of Scotland’s accession to the throne? Ron Hess’s that he ran an European-wide intelligence network and used the plays of “Shakespeare” to chronicle his life-long rivalry with Don John of Austria? Paul Streitz’s that he was Elizabeth’s son as well as her lover? It’s not impossible that Anonymous will make 2012 look relatively sober.

Historical Footnote: Oxenford played a role in the drama over the succession to the throne, though not at all like the one apparently assigned to him by director Emmerich. In March 1603, a few days before the Queen’s death, he invited the Earl of Lincoln, a rather dissolute and worthless nobleman, to supper and proposed a scheme to derail James of Scotland’s seemingly inevitable ascension. In James’s place, he put forward Lincoln’s nephew, an 18-year-old with a remote royal claim in the Yorkist line. (He was a direct descendant of George, Duke of Clarence, of butt-of-malmsey fame.) The idea was that the lad would travel to France, gather supporters there, and bring back a French army to vindicate his pretensions. Oxenford was confident that the French would back any alternative to James, “how small soever his title were”.

The proto-plot was, of course, crack-brained, though some figures at the French embassy may have encouraged it. Lincoln had the good sense to report the conversation to the lieutenant of the Tower of London, who passed the word onto other authorities. No one, however, felt any need to take action. Oxenford was even allowed a nominal place on the council that handled English affairs pending the new King’s arrival. He had no money or influence. Arresting him would have thwarted no real danger, but might have reflected badly on important men to whom he was related, notably his first wife’s half brother, Sir Robert Cecil, and the husbands of his two eldest daughters (one an earl, the other a baron).

This minor incident displays Oxenford at his vainglorious and ineffective norm. He would be a better subject for a comedy than a thriller.

Sources: Alan H. Nelson, Monstrous Adversary: The Life of Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, ch. 81 (2003); Sir John Peyton, Letter to Robert Cecil (Oct. 10, 1603).

Comments

[Jeff]

I like your Shakespeare 'controversy' updates and writings. Makes one wonder why some feel the need to resist the straightforward. Occam's razor and all.