It is the well-known title for many a university thesis or dissertation: Did Shakespeare write the works that are today attributed to him? And, of course, if he didn’t then who did?
I will declare my personal position before we go any further: I really don’t care that much. I am very fond of some of the plays and I have my favourite sonnets but if it actually was some other Tudor writer who penned them, well, to me that does not diminish the quality of the writing in any way at all.
There is a whole body of discussion that finds it difficult to separate the art from the artist, this includes the art of Picasso and of Eric Gill and the music of Gesualdo. None lived wholesome lives but surely that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the products of their skill and creativity.
I am not suggesting Shakespeare (as far as we know) indulged in abuse of any sort but there is plenty of evidential proof to say that he was rather dissolute. This picture does not really fit with the blatantly educated and literary writer of the large volume of work that is so well known and celebrated.
Therein lies the basis upon which Jodi Picoult predicates her novel. ‘By any other name,’ is a wonderful read. It is nearly 500 pages of meticulously researched, fascinating prose. We alternate between the time of Elizabethan London where our heroine (and I don’t use that word lightly) is Emilia Bassano and present day Manhattan where Melina Green is the character who moves the narrative forward. Melina is fictional, as you would expect in a novel but Emilia is real. Historically real and all the more powerful for that. I loved her, admired her and felt for her as she lurched from one desperate situation to another. Her lack of power and control over almost every aspect of her life is daunting and depressing. However, throughout it all she writes. She has been educated, as befits the ward of aristocrats, she has travelled to Italy and to Denmark and these experiences stand her in good stead as she is forced to become the mistress of the Lord Chamberlain.
This amiable, elderly gentleman is responsible for everything to do with Elizabethan theatre, heavily regulated at the time. Emilia does not want to act on the stage, fortunate as this would have been prohibited, but she does want to write. Why shouldn’t her thoughts be acted out on the stage? Also of course seen as utterly unsuitable and impossible.
And switching to 21st century New York, Melina Green is finding a similar situation. She knows she is distantly related to Emilia Bassano and realises there are an uncomfortable number of parallels in their lives. Is a woman’s voice still worth less than a man’s? Amazingly, maybe that rings true. How many well-known female playwrights of the 20th and 21st century can you name who have their work regularly produced and staged? Melina and Emilia decide on the same course of action: allow your work to be fronted by a man, in Emilia’s case the man in question is William Shakespeare. How far, one may wonder, is Jodi Picoult going off piste with this story line? Even if there is no paper trail to ultimately prove her case, the author is persuasive in saying to her reader: this really is possible; maybe this is what happened. A lack of written proof does not necessarily mean an event did not take place. We do know that Shakespeare had not travelled and that the level of his literacy was questionable. His daughters were illiterate and signed their names with a cross. How would he have known about the details of Italy and Denmark that are confidently written into his plays? Without a good education would he have been capable (or even interested) in writing all those sonnets?
So, we appear to be saying that there is still blatant misogyny, in the theatre as elsewhere, over 400 years after Emilia’s miserable experiences. Well, yes, but in the case of Melina, is her’s the worst case of prejudice? The man who rather reluctantly assumes the role of author of Melina’s play is her roommate Andre. He is black and gay and thus has problems of his own to navigate. (‘Roommate’ in America means flat mate, rather confusingly. Melina is friends with him, nothing else.) It could be said that she is using Andre with no thought of the consequences for him. This results in chaos, romantically and professionally as well as affecting several important relationships.
I have read a few of Jodi Picoult’s books before. She concerns herself with big, serious issues such as covid, terminal illness and abortion. The author says that she receives large amounts of hate mail from people who disagree with her views or who dislike the way she employs issues in her writing. However, she expects this particular book to result in more hate mail than ever before.
The body of writing by Shakespeare is a highly contentious subject and many people are appalled that his authorship should be questioned. Of course these days Shakespeare is both an industry and a religion. To cast aspersions on this Tudor actor is considered by some to be treason; to be blasphemous. Hugely strong words but accurate for certain people. I’m sure the hate mail is already flowing.
Am I becoming the victim of conspiracy theories I wonder. The historically validated First Folio was gathered and published in 1623, only 7 years after the death of Shakespeare. It is widely regarded as a reliable text, so why question it? I have to remind myself once more that Jodi Picoult is writing a work of fiction. As such though, it is fascinating, however much or little truth there is in it.
The afterword is engrossing, as the author tells of her research. The idea of there being miniature portraits of Emilia and her love, her only true love, the Earl of Southampton, attributed to Nicholas Hilliard, in the archives of the Victoria and Albert Museum is utterly seductive. Can one ask to see them I wonder?