….I can safely say is an Oxfordian. And his authorship Truth is in the Sonnets. Reason enough to profile him and see what he has to say. This blog has a FB group page and this last few day’s pastime has been chasing Mr H.S. around the web seeing what he is up to. I just added a loong comment under one of the links and realised it would be better as a post.
I get my news through Google alerts and whenever i follow the link to any scholarship or popular film, there is H. First in the comments list. Not exactly soliciting followers, as much as admonishing those who accept the historical record, as we know it. After having studied and questioned it. Damned if my studies weren’t wrong, or unimaginably prejudiced by the scholarly voices i cared to hear.
Occasionally another sort of slippery shark appears to tag-team their proselytising, and bloody the waters as much as they can. Chum dispersed and finished with the list of unanswerable questions, they move on to the next fool who dares to question the truth that is to be revealed and accepted.
I’m unsure of the ethics of this post in that H.will of course read this and i don’t mean this personally. I take it merely as a topic to be poked and prodded until it reveals its true nature. The authorship question has an essential nature. It’s disbelief in our natural candidate.
For that reason I will offer no evidence for my beliefs, outside the already oft stated few I can muster. And I will provide no evidence for H. candidate, whom I shall call the Master.
Whatever way you look on it the stars shone favourably on Shakespeare, even if he is beyond proof or spoof shown not to be shakespeare.
Imagine the headlines:
Glover’s boy from Stratford CONS University, Historical, Literary, and Theatrical Worlds for Centuries.
‘ I was an utter Muppet,’ said Will in a quote from a weegie board this week in a thick cockney accent.
‘Total numbnuts. i could barely tie my own shoes is how thick i was. But look at what i accomplished eh? Property owner, Landed Gentleman, Every one at Court thinking I could write. Fooled the lot!
Not bad for a Glover’s lad from Stratford. ‘Course Dickie Field help me keep up the pretense on the wordy bits and was an excellent frontman for the 2 poems. Bit racy and sold way better than I expected.
The Burbages arranged everyfink Fee-atrical of course. Emphasis on the fee. I was a perfect foil and they knew it. They ‘ad good connections with the Earl of Leicester, and he loved the Master.
I look back on my life and i think who needs Posterity, gimme Prosperity!
Oi Ben, make mine a double and put a brolly in it!’
But back to H. I find H. to be true and consistent in his arguings.
To me he represents the attitude of a learned opponent, in that H. seems to have done some reading. This reading is his alone and the fruits thereof are filtered through a prism, which H. spent many years arriving at.
If we present a fact. H. necessarily has to twist that fact in his interpretation. And present what seems to be a contradictory example, which in turn pans out to be fool’s gold. It glitters and is attractive but turns out to be worthless metal.
If agument is jewellery, we show different taste. His naturally the Crown jewels, Ours a simple thick gold earring.
We question the conclusions that H. draws.
H. responds with vigour, venom, and vituperation to our arguments.
H. suggests we haven’t read enough, have misread what we’ve read, or have ignored obvious biographical clues in literary works.
H. rhetorical flourishes are indeed like reading biographical criticism (a new genre methinks) by flashes of lightning. One moment he towers above, the next insidiously holds hands, like Richard 3rd begging Lady Anne to go kill herself.
H. is kinda the Jesuit missionary of Oxfordianism. (if i offend any Jesuits i thought it an apt comparison) H. goes forth unto the new media frontiers of the internet and searches every single site that mentions Shakespeare.
Then H. judges whether it is sinning in the true story and prepares his poison to pollute the well. Always the same poison; dosages vary according to his humour. Mostly it ends in a list of questions that we need to answer. We question his questions. H. elicits a rhetorical emo-surge on how perverted the argument has become.
H. is not alone. Despite small numbers, Globally they can be found in schools or groups. But the variation and difference there means they and future students graduate with degrees that vary from slightly to hugely, in the degree of acceptance as to who of the 100+ candidates it actually is. Quo Vadis Shakespeare?
The mantra falls like a shroud and the scriptwriter (what’s his name again)? and the real glory winning Emmerichs of the world make (we hope) a kick-ass movie, and suddenly everywhere and forever after the MANTRA sounds:
The Stratford Man it ain’t, cain’t possibly be.
See, there the room for a reasonable doubt!
Ok 2 clunking feminine lines in the motto to show the disturbed and emotional nature of the argument. But to throw in a cliche of our day when all’s said and done, the neck shot to the acclaimed Stratford Man has NOT yet been given. All evidence is circumstantial and circular, for thine and mine. But mine is given as the one.
Conspiracy theories are actually, Why Shakspere can’t be Shakespeare theories.
BUT why should your candidate be Sh?
Where was the benefit to him?
Why should Oxford have wished to write for anonymity?
It makes no sense given his personality. Some esoteric conspiracy about the birth of English literature is unacceptable as evidence why. Same goes for theories positing Rosy cheeked Bacon and Poor Kit Marlowe..
Does this make me smug? Who calls me smug? Ha? Superior? to what? My knowledge trumps your knowledge? We’re right, You’re wrong?
There is nothing i can say. Nothing I can prove. SO i have to ridicule and laugh. Or go insane.
BTW H. and others the comments for this blog are turned off. Too many cialis etc type comments. Not out of cowardice for a response. Besides we’ve argued those responses to no avail elsewhere. A couple of links if you’re interested:
and this one at Time Out London.