The feeding frenzy over the 400th anniversary of William Shakespeare’s death has reached its peak. Recently we’ve had Shakespeare’s complete works performed through the puppetry of kitchenware. On books pages, you can read about everything from Edward Wilson-Lee’s Shakespeare in Swahililand (surprisingly beguiling) to Simon Andrew Stirling’s Shakespeare’s Bastard: A Life of Sir William Davenant (he wasn’t).
Meanwhile, the Royal Mail is launching a set of stamps emblazoned with snappy quotations. And it’s this glib series that encapsulates the anniversary problem. Shakespeare’s beauty lies not in his maxims but in the complexity of every line; the power of context, character and plot to suggest myriad meanings, each one undercutting the last. One stamp quotes Romeo and Juliet — ‘love is a smoke made with a fume of sighs’ — as if a line about true love. Actually, Romeo utters this garbage about his first crush, Rosalind — it’s Shakespeare’s piss-take of the pose of lover, melancholic to the point of narcissism.
Misreadings and misappropriations — who cares if you’ve understood Shakespeare, as long as you can flog him on tea towels? That’s the approach of government to all things anniversary.
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