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Richard III has inspired a foul plot to dig up Shakespeare Richard III has inspired a foul plot to dig up Shakespeare
(35 minutes later)
A South African academic reckons it’s time to dig up William Shakespeare. Inspired by the revelations about Richard III, recently liberated from a car park in Leicester, professor Francis Thackeray of Wits University, in Johannesburg, claims he is “very interested by the possibility” of subjecting Shakespeare to the same treatment. “Given the extraordinary success of the study of the skeleton of Richard III,” Thackeray says, “we recognise the potential of undertaking forensic analyses of the Bard.” This is apparently not an April fool, despite the season.A South African academic reckons it’s time to dig up William Shakespeare. Inspired by the revelations about Richard III, recently liberated from a car park in Leicester, professor Francis Thackeray of Wits University, in Johannesburg, claims he is “very interested by the possibility” of subjecting Shakespeare to the same treatment. “Given the extraordinary success of the study of the skeleton of Richard III,” Thackeray says, “we recognise the potential of undertaking forensic analyses of the Bard.” This is apparently not an April fool, despite the season.
Thackeray has form: in 2011 he applied to have Shakespeare’s remains exhumed, only to have the request turned down. Remarkable as it seems, the custodians of Holy Trinity church in Stratford-upon-Avon – the playwright is buried somewhere beneath the chancel – were unconvinced by the validity of his research, which stems from his belief that Shakespeare smoked pot. (If Thackeray thinks that’s what “noted weed” means in Sonnet 76, he needs to buy a dictionary.) They were also no doubt swayed by the fact that Shakespeare himself made a point of pleading with subsequent generations to leave him be. In what might be the last piece of verse he composed (if not, perhaps, his finest poetical hour), his epitaph reads: “Good frend for Jesus sake forebeare / To digg the dust encloased heare / Blese be the man that spares thes stones / And curst be he that moves my bones.”Thackeray has form: in 2011 he applied to have Shakespeare’s remains exhumed, only to have the request turned down. Remarkable as it seems, the custodians of Holy Trinity church in Stratford-upon-Avon – the playwright is buried somewhere beneath the chancel – were unconvinced by the validity of his research, which stems from his belief that Shakespeare smoked pot. (If Thackeray thinks that’s what “noted weed” means in Sonnet 76, he needs to buy a dictionary.) They were also no doubt swayed by the fact that Shakespeare himself made a point of pleading with subsequent generations to leave him be. In what might be the last piece of verse he composed (if not, perhaps, his finest poetical hour), his epitaph reads: “Good frend for Jesus sake forebeare / To digg the dust encloased heare / Blese be the man that spares thes stones / And curst be he that moves my bones.”
I don’t have much truck with curses, and I’m not normally one to stand in the way of the noble pursuit of knowledge. But I wonder whether we should, for once, respect Shakespeare’s wishes. Even if we could locate the man’s mortal remains – it’s not certain exactly where they lie – and managed to subject them to scientific analysis, what do we want to discover? What kind of food he ate? That he once fell off a horse and broke his leg? Whether he chewed his fingernails? Disinterring a controversial and medically interesting skeleton that experienced a violent and early death is one thing. Exhuming a playwright who expired, as far as anyone can tell, in his bed in plump middle age is another. If Thackeray thinks writers lead lives as turbulent and exciting as medieval warrior kings, well, he should meet more of them. In my experience, the job involves a lot of sitting at desks.I don’t have much truck with curses, and I’m not normally one to stand in the way of the noble pursuit of knowledge. But I wonder whether we should, for once, respect Shakespeare’s wishes. Even if we could locate the man’s mortal remains – it’s not certain exactly where they lie – and managed to subject them to scientific analysis, what do we want to discover? What kind of food he ate? That he once fell off a horse and broke his leg? Whether he chewed his fingernails? Disinterring a controversial and medically interesting skeleton that experienced a violent and early death is one thing. Exhuming a playwright who expired, as far as anyone can tell, in his bed in plump middle age is another. If Thackeray thinks writers lead lives as turbulent and exciting as medieval warrior kings, well, he should meet more of them. In my experience, the job involves a lot of sitting at desks.
But then we are forever fussing with Shakespeare’s bones. We’re obsessed by the possibility that he might have been gay (leaving aside the question of whether he would have recognised the concept). We’re thrilled by the idea that perhaps he died from syphilis, or alcoholism. We crawl over every jot and tittle of his will, as if it contained psychological notes rather than a legal distribution of cash and property. Being curious about what made Shakespeare tick is inevitable; but just as inevitable is his uncanny ability to evade our deepest scrutiny. Would I be interested to find out what killed the man? Sure. Would it help me get closer to unravelling the spectral brilliance of Sonnet 107, or the heart-stopping intensity of The Winter’s Tale? I really hope not. The thing that made Shakespeare extraordinary was his brain. Brilliant as modern archeology is, no one is going to unearth that any time soon. But then we are forever fussing with Shakespeare’s bones. We’re obsessed by the possibility that he might have been gay (leaving aside the question of whether he would have thought about his sexuality in those terms). We’re thrilled by the idea that perhaps he died from syphilis, or alcoholism. We crawl over every jot and tittle of his will, as if it contained psychological notes rather than a legal distribution of cash and property. Being curious about what made Shakespeare tick is inevitable; but just as inevitable is his uncanny ability to evade our deepest scrutiny. Would I be interested to find out what killed the man? Sure. Would it help me get closer to unravelling the spectral brilliance of Sonnet 107, or the heart-stopping intensity of The Winter’s Tale? I really hope not. The thing that made Shakespeare extraordinary was his brain. Brilliant as modern archeology is, no one is going to unearth that any time soon.
Thackeray and his colleagues should beware of a precedent. In the 1840s, a failed playwright and former schoolteacher from Ohio called Delia Bacon became convinced that Shakespeare (a “stupid, illiterate, third-rate play actor”) was a fraud, and that Francis Bacon – no relation – had not only written the plays but left a note confessing so inside Shakespeare’s tomb. Having stolen into the church one night, Bacon was found by the sexton staring moodily at the gravestone, trying to work out how to get in. She committed her theories to print in 1857, then succumbed to depression and was confined to an asylum. No one can say what drove Bacon over the edge, but haunting graves trying to solve imaginary riddles probably had something to do with it.Thackeray and his colleagues should beware of a precedent. In the 1840s, a failed playwright and former schoolteacher from Ohio called Delia Bacon became convinced that Shakespeare (a “stupid, illiterate, third-rate play actor”) was a fraud, and that Francis Bacon – no relation – had not only written the plays but left a note confessing so inside Shakespeare’s tomb. Having stolen into the church one night, Bacon was found by the sexton staring moodily at the gravestone, trying to work out how to get in. She committed her theories to print in 1857, then succumbed to depression and was confined to an asylum. No one can say what drove Bacon over the edge, but haunting graves trying to solve imaginary riddles probably had something to do with it.
• Andrew Dickson’s Worlds Elsewhere: Journeys Around Shakespeare’s Globe will be published by Bodley Head this autumn.• Andrew Dickson’s Worlds Elsewhere: Journeys Around Shakespeare’s Globe will be published by Bodley Head this autumn.