Works on many levels
BERNARD Cornwell is best known for his spirited Saxon tales but Fools And Mortals sees him swap the comparative historic darkness of Saxon times for the far more luminous and well-documented world of Elizabethan England (1558-1603).
And what he offers is a sly take on the best known figure of that period, William Shakespeare, by making his chief narrator William’s pretty obscure brother Richard. This, as Blackadder would say, is a cunning plan – we know very little about the life of William and even less of his brother Richard. This is historical fiction gold – you can’t really be inaccurate when there are no sources to contradict you. So all the world is your stage.
The stage in Fools And Mortals is the Theatre, home to the Lord Chamberlain’s men, for whom William writes. His brother is a bitpart player taking whatever parts are available, parts offered contemptuously by his elder brother. To say the two brothers do not really get on is an understatement – they abuse each other foully. William’s particular delight is to make Richard play the female roles, which he hates.
We (or I, at least) tend to think of Shakespeare’s company playing only his own plays. But this is early days – Romeo And Juliet is in the early stages of being written, only to be put aside for an urgent wedding entertainment which is to become A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the interim the company plays titles such as The Dead Man’s Fortune and Hester, about which none of the cast is in the least bit complimentary. The repertoire sounds awful. But the company plays what sells and what will motivate the hordes to traipse across the muddy fields that separate the Theatre from London itself.
The actors are a rough and ready crew, foul-mouthed and coarse, none more so than the most famous of them all, Will Kemp, who plays the comic parts and who will go on to captivate audiences as Bottom in the Dream. But acting is precarious. There is fierce rivalry between the companies of players and enmity can end bloodily. Cornwell is very good indeed with this sort of atmosphere and detail – there is, for instance, only one copy of a playscript and that is kept locked and guarded; the actors are given only their own parts to learn – scripts are gold dust and to let them fall into rivals’ hands is to lose your livelihood.
The threat to the players is not confined to rival companies. England is divided along religious grounds between the Catholics and the Protestants. The latter despise the theatre and the players and would like nothing better than to close them down. The playhouses are positioned outside the city walls to take them outside the jurisdiction of the city authorities. However, the Puritan Pursuivants have the power to root out Catholics and hang them, a convenient excuse to make life difficult for the theatre companies. Indeed, the Theatre is no exception and is raided, its players accused of possessing traitorous documents. Fortunately, they are not called the Lord Chamberlain’s Men for nothing – high level patronage keeps you alive.
Fools And Mortals works on many levels and if I have in any way given the impression that this is dry and worthy historical fiction, I can assure you it is nothing of the sort. This is historical fiction from which you learn a lot, yes, but it is written with the very lightest of touches, its diligent research and deep knowledge of the period entirely subservient to the ripping yarn that buzzes along its surface.
The relationship between William and Richard is entertainingly drawn although William lovers may take offence at the pretty brutal treatment he hands out to his brother’s ambitions. Their running feud is a backbone of the book but intertwined with it are the daily affairs of the playhouse and the tensions between the actors, all vying for money and prestige. But when it becomes obvious that there is a plot to ruin the company and that one of their own has betrayed them, there is an impressive unity of purpose and loyalty.
If I have one reservation about Fools And Mortals it is that quite a lot of the final sections of the book are devoted to the creation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream ,aplayI know fairly well and whose plot I do not need spelling out in detail, however rich and amusing. But for many readers that will not be an issue.
The book as a whole is a hugely entertaining read, full of life and atmosphere, great dialogue and some ingeniously melodramatic plotting. Cornwell’s characters are vivid and the streets of London are muddy and stinking in a way that reeks of authenticity. This is a world of edgy violence and unexpected romance. As Richard says, “We are the Lord Chamberlain’s players. We tell stories. We make the magical appear on stage. We turn dreams into truth.” Just, in fact, as Bernard Cornwell does on these very pages.