I ended my December 24, 2010 post with the following: "And so the question remains: What is the proper stance for a writer to take vis a vis Shakespeare?" The subject of the post was Frank Kermode's The Age of Shakespeare (2004), and more specifically his statement that his admiration for the playwright, though great, was, like Ben Jonson's, "this side idolatry". A critic who is very much on the other side of the fence, a "proud bardolater", is Harold Bloom, the renowned Yale professor and literary critic. And recently, in having another look at his Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human (1998) I came across the following answer to the question above (and in my opinion, the definitive one):

"Literary transcendence is now out of fashion, but Shakespeare so transcends his fellow playwrights that critical absurdity hovers near when we seek to confine Shakespeare to his time, place, and profession. These days, critics do not like to begin by standing in awe of Shakespeare, but I know of no other way to begin with him. Wonder, gratitude, shock, amazement are the accurate responses out of which one has to work."

I've had a few more thoughts on Frank Kermode's The Age of Shakespeare (2004), which I mentioned again yesterday. What's been on my mind is the fact that Kermode wrote, both in this book and in Shakespeare's Language (2000), of how he is an admirer of Shakespeare, like Ben Jonson, "this side idolatry". First off, I'm pretty sure that it is this phrase which has led to the punning description of Shakespeare worshipers as "bardolaters", amongst which, you may have noticed, you'll find me.

In Kermode's case, it seems as if the phrase affects very strongly the tone of the entire book (which I would certainly continue to recommend, by the way) because he seems to be always looking for ways to keep Shakespeare on the earth, but without going so far as to diminish his achievements. It's an engaging perspective for the most part, level-headed and learned, but occasionally we read a statement such as the following one, in regard to George Chapman, a poet mostly remembered for his translation of Homer (largely because of Keats' poem): "Chapman was an intellectual in a sense that probably excludes Shakespeare; like the aristocratic poet Fulke Grenville, friend and biographer of Sidney, he had a deep interest in the revived philosophy of Stoicism". At which point, I have to put the book down and say: "Sorry. No way. I don't care if Chapman had a deep interest in everything. There is no sense of the word 'intellectual' that excludes Shakespeare." And so the question remains: What is the proper stance for a writer to take vis a vis Shakespeare?

Today, I'd like to recommend two books by the great literary critic, Frank Kermode (who passed away last week at the age of ninety): Shakespeare's Language (2000) and The Age of Shakespeare (2004) are two very different undertakings that are both splendidly realized. They are entertaining, memorable and useful.

It's worth remembering how important criticism is in the appreciation of culture. Literature can't operate alone. To appreciate it, we have to read about it, as well. As a bonus, it can provide great pleasure and insight, and Frank Kermode provided as much of both as anyone.

I'd also like to mention the happy news regarding the announcement of the return of the great announcer Vin Scully to the Los Angeles Dodgers' broadcasts for a 62nd (!) season. He's 82, by the way, and over the years he's been frequently described as a poet. I would definitely agree. Like Shakespeare, he doesn't settle for stale ways of saying things. (I still remember his description of Kirk Gibson: "He looks as if he just got off a raft.") Even if you've never listened to a baseball game, or are not a baseball fan, you should listen to at least one game called by Vin Scully.