Whether 'tis better in a trunk to bury
The quirks and crotchets of outrageous Fancy,
Or send a well-wrote copy to the press,
And by disclosing, end them.‘Hamlet's Soliloquy: Imitated’
Richard Jago
(1715-1781)
Whether or not you're a fan of Shakespeare (or a
'Bardolater' as the 20th century playwright George Bernard Shaw termed the most
zealous Shakespeare enthusiasts), you've probably heard something of the famous
soliloquy from his play Hamlet.
Even if you don't know off the top of your head where it's from or what it's
about, the opening lines will probably strike a chord:
'To be or not to be, that is the question.
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing, end them.'
(Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1…and yes, I’m afraid I did basically type it from memory!)
And having read that, I'm sure you'll see at
once what Jago is doing with his 'Imitation'. Although there might be a
serious side to his reworking, it's difficult to see Jago's soliloquy as
anything other than a huge, hilarious joke.
 |
| Richard Jago 1715-1781 |
Just to start by clarifying the jargon here, a
'soliloquy' is a speech in a play delivered by one character talking to
themselves, rather like someone thinking out loud. In the original
Shakespeare play, the famous speech is said by Hamlet as he debates whether or
not he should attempt to bring his uncle to justice for the murder of his
father and usurpation of his and his father's crown (through marriage to
Hamlet's mother) - the 'sea of troubles' he considers 'tak[ing] arms
against'. Jago replaces this with an author’s dilemma – ‘To print, or not to print’ (line 1). ‘To print’,
Jago wittily argues, is ‘to doubt / No more’ (lines 5-6), since once a
manuscript is committed to print it cannot be changed and the ‘head-ach, and
[…] thousand natural shocks / Of scribbling frenzy’ are over (lines 7-8): as my
very dear brother once rather wittily quipped, ‘novels are never finished, they just get sent to the
publisher’.
The next section – still mimicking the original
structure of Shakespeare’s immortal words – continues with the pros and, more
importantly, the cons of publishing. The
aspiring writer’s work might ‘beam / From the same shelf with [Alexander] Pope,
in calf [leather] well bound’ (lines 9-10), one of the finest satirical poets
of the eighteenth-century and an enviable bookshelf companion for any author. Or, more realistically the aspiring work may ‘sleep,
perchance, with Quarles – Ay, there’s the rub’ (line 11). The ‘sleep’ of which Shakespeare’s Hamlet
speaks is the sleep of death, but here it is the probable fate of the millions
of forgotten authors who ‘sleep’ in disregarded silence. Francis Quarles (1592-1644) was an English
religious poet whose popularity does not seem to have extended very far beyond
his own lifetime. On one of the rare
occasions when his name is mentioned in the latter half of the eighteenth
century it is in a letter to the popular journal The Gentleman’s Magazine, in which the correspondent bemoans the
fact that ‘[p]oor sleeping Quarles
is at length disturbed’ by critics such as William Jackson who discussed the
poet’s work favorably in his Thirty
Letters on various subjects. The
threat of infamy here is very real, and one to strike fear into the heart of
every aspiring author.
Detailing
the numerous disadvantages of being a published author Jago also includes ‘th’impatient
thirst of fame’ (line 16), i.e. the longing for continued popularity after even
the smallest taste of it; and ‘[t]he tedious importunity of friends’ (line 18),
doubtless hectoring for details of the next great work. The ‘undiscover’d country’ of Shakespeare’s
soliloquy is the unseen land of death, but here Jago redirects the term to refer
to the mystic ‘Parnassus’ hill’ (line 22), in Greek mythology the home of the nine
Muses who serve as guardians and inspirations of the arts. Once again, however, it is the fear of
criticism that is the strongest deterrent, as Jago writes of how preferable it
is to ‘bear to live unknown, / Than run the hazard to be known, and damn’d’
(lines 25-6). It is this fear which
makes ‘the healthful face of many a poem’ sicken within the pages of ‘a pale
manuscript’ (lines 28 & 29) and that deters many writers from sending their
work to publishers such as the famous Robert Dodsley (1704-1764) that Jago here
mentions by name. We can only be
thankful that this fear didn’t deter Jago himself!
Happy
Reading!!
You
can find this poem:
(eighteenth century poetry archive – a fantastic new resource of freely available poetry by all our favourite eighteenth-century poets, and quite a few less well-known ones too!
You can
find out more about Richard Jago:
(Wikipedia!! Always a useful starting point…)
(If you’re lucky enough to have access to the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography then this gives a more sophisticated account of Jago’s life.)
Sources:
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/bardolater
Sharp, ‘Letter’ in The Gentleman’s Magazine: and historical chronicle, 56.6 (Dec
1786), p. 1106.
