Staff Reports
Ah, the never-ending dance between Shakespeare and secularism—a tragic comedy fit for the Bard himself! It seems our modern-day intellectuals are once again trying to pin down the elusive essence of good ol’ Will, and the plot has thickened with the involvement of critic Stephen Greenblatt. Now, Greenblatt is no ordinary critic. No, he’s the crème de la crème of Shakespeare scholars, wielding his pen like a rapier as he tackles the age-old question: Was Shakespeare a closet Catholic, or merely a secular scribe who enjoyed toying with metaphysical themes?
Greenblatt is cheekily wagging his finger at the notion of Will writing with divine inspiration. The possibility of Shakespeare being a secret Catholic would make for quite the scandal in Elizabethan England. However, despite some interpretations suggesting a Catholic influence, some describe Shakespeare’s work as fundamentally secular, infused with drama worthy of primetime television.
But hold on to your hats, folks, because here’s where things start to get as tangled as a midsummer night’s dream. Shakespeare’s stories are teeming with supernatural elements and moral reckonings. The ghosts and apparitions haunting Macbeth, for example, are not just there for atmospheric spookiness. They’re the harbingers of guilt, moral turmoil, and everything that makes humanity—itself slightly crazy and deeply intriguing.
Imagine for a moment a production of Macbeth without its ghosts, desperately trying to echo Dostoevsky’s introspective Russian gloom but lacking any of the soulful, haunting undercurrents. What would become of the Scottish king if all he had to contend with was self-doubt over his morning coffee rather than the spectral visage of Banquo? It’s safe to say that without recognizing the gnawing presence of a moral order, much of the tragedy falls flat, reduced to mere existential grumbling.
So here lies the rub: can you truly appreciate Shakespeare’s genius if you strip away the divine drama that saturates his work? Listening to some interpretations of Shakespeare without recognizing the moral whodunit of it all is like watching Hamlet with the sound turned off. You might see the actors moving, but you miss the sonnets and soliloquies that give the play its soul.
Perhaps, as our industrious detective writer might suggest, sometimes it takes a bit of belief—or at least an understanding of belief—to fully comprehend what makes Shakespeare’s works endure. After all, a little faith in the ethereal can open up worlds of understanding, helping us see the ghostly footprints left by the Bard on the pathways of time. In wrestling with his faith and fears, Shakespeare speaks as clearly to us today as he spoke to audiences in his own time—if we’re willing to listen.
