I woke up early—when you’re old this is necessary unless you want to pee the bed. I ate breakfast while continuing to read “On Human Bondage” by Somerset Maughm. I have found this a long tedious read and drift off onto other thoughts while doing so. However, as an Oxfordian, I often find things that pop me back to that topic. In this case it was Cronshaw’s view of what it takes to be a great artist. He mentions total self absorption. “An artist would let his mother go to the workhouse.” Later it’s “I’m a spendthrift, I run through my capital, I shall spend my last penny with my last heartbeat.” That seemed like Oxford to me and while reflecting on this, Mozart, as played by Tom Hulce, came to mind as he was portrayed in “Amadeus”. At times, I think Oxford was very much like that—an obscene often silly man— but of unrivalled talent. The scene of Mozart composing while his father and wife were quarrelling, underscored my view of Oxford, the artist.
This brought me back to my writing side. I have recently completed a play covering most of Elizabeth I’s reign, focusing on her relationships with Oxford among others, and some of her maids of honour. I spent more than a year researching, which may seem rather short, but when you’re already old, you have to be pragmatic. I was taking Ros Barber’s advice as I neared the end: write and leave the editing until later. So there is more editing to come.
What I learned along the way was becoming the characters in order to better understand them and feel what they might say and do in situations. As a male who is essentially heterosexual, attemptiong to understand female characters is challenging. Yet, as I went along, I think I captured some semblance of them. They are the principle characters throughout. However, it is for others to assess. Writers write and other interpret. It belongs to the readers, directors, actors and sudience to make of it what they will.
So in thinking of Oxford as author of the works of William Shakespeare, it is impossible for me not to believe that the main source for every play or poem is the book of Edward de Vere’s life. In that life, he saw many things in his Italian, French, and Dutch travels and read a massive number of books in many languages linked to the works, so they are part of his “ source book” filtered through his life experience.
It is incredible that any sensible person not paid to support the Stratford businessman as author could think that a man like that—not stupid by any means—but not literate, could write a play like “Timon of Athens” when the closest life model I can find for him is Ebenezer Scrooge of the first Stave. Almost every preserved document of his life is buying or selling property, lending money or suing to recover it.
My play, now titled “The Eyes of Venus” begins with Elizabeth I finding out that Anne Vavasour has just given birth to a child in the maiden’s chamber and that the father is Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford. She has them sent to the Tower. The play moves ahead to related events, then jumps back to just before the death of Edward’s father, John de Vere. It moves forward until it passes the opening time frame and continues to the end of the life of Elizabeth Trentham, Edward’s second wife.
At this point, I am working to reduce the number of characters in order to make it more manageable for the stage. Right now, it is more likely a film. I have been contemplating doing a one person reading of it and posting the audio on this Substack account. That way I can look forward to being abused in print if anyone bothers to listen. That won’t matter. The experience of writing it mattered.