Tag Archives: The written word

Shakespeare Wos ‘Ere

Historians aren’t certain that William Shakespeare was born on St George’s Day 1564, although he was baptised on 26 April that year, what we do know that he died on this day 405 years ago.

For several years of his life, Shakespeare’s home was London, although we don’t know where most of them are, there are a couple where we have proper documentary evidence.

1592:

William Shakespeare first moves to lodgings in London

1593:

Now lodging somewhere in Bishopsgate

1596:

Now lodging somewhere in the parish of St. Helen’s in Bishopsgate

1599:

Now lodging somewhere on Bankside, near the Globe Theatre

And that’s not the current Globe Theatre, which is too near the Thames. Back then a row of theatres ran slightly further back, within the ‘Liberty of the Clink’, an ancient enclave whose laws permitted entertainments banned a few streets away.

The site of the original Globe can be found by crossing Southwark Bridge and then taking steps down immediately beyond the large office block, before reaching the traffic lights.

Information boards on Park Street, which runs parallel to the Thames and below Southwark Bridge Road, reveals that the site lays before you, beyond the railings, within the protective realm of a block of flats. The limit of the Scheduled Ancient Monument area is defined by a change in the cobbles, with a late Georgian terrace plonked straight across the middle of it, because nobody back then cared about heritage.

The Globe had burnt to the ground in 1613, ignited by a cinder during a performance of Henry VIII, and only a few minor archaeological traces remain. It’s believed that Shakespeare might have lived in a house adjacent to the theatre, but that’s mere speculation, and nobody knows precisely where.

1604:

Shakespeare now lodging in Cripplegate

By this time, he’d already written most of his classics like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Hamlet and Othello, perhaps in response to his increased reputation he moved back north of the river and rented lodgings in the City.

His landlord was Christopher Mountjoy, a French Huguenot refugee and a maker of ladies’ ornamental wigs in the elaborate Elizabethan fashion. We’d know none of this was it not for a family dispute following the marriage of Mountjoy’s daughter Mary to his apprentice Stephen Belott. When a promised dowry failed to materialise in full, Bellot took Mountjoy to court and Shakespeare was called as a witness. His words, in this case, weren’t particularly useful, but modern scholars were bequeathed a rare example of his handwriting as a result, and also a precise address. The Mountjoys’ house was situated on the corner of Silver Street and Monkwell Street, on the boundary between the wards of Farringdon and Cripplegate.

The catch is that neither the house nor either of the streets still exists, the house disappeared in the Great Fire, and then the local area was wiped from the map again during the Blitz. Pretty much the whole of Cripplegate was consumed, and the street pattern substantially remodelled during the erection of the Barbican estate. The location lies just outside this modern development, either underneath or fractionally to the south of London Wall, which despite its name is another modern interloper on the A-Z. Head to the section east of the Museum of London, close to the actual remains of the actual London wall on Noble Street. The best clue to the precise site of the Bard’s lodgings is St. Olave’s church, a small place of worship whose churchyard abutted the street corner in question. This was also destroyed in World War II, but its footprint remains as a tiny garden, with a raised lawn and a footpath winding through, and an old stone bowl which might be a font or maybe a birdbath, it’s hard to be sure. The City has erected a plaque by a bench to confirm the Shakespearian connection, using the usual convention of ‘Near Here’ to confirm there’s no remaining wall to properly attach it to. If you’re planning on getting up close and maybe taking a photo, best hope there isn’t a modern-day Romeo and Juliet canoodling on the bench when you visit. But if it’s free, take a seat and look around you at the lofty offices and high walks, and try to imagine that Macbeth and King Lear were likely written right here.

1613:

Now with property in Blackfriars

With more than a third of London’s adult population watching live theatre every month, Shakespeare had become a wealthy man he had retired to a fine house in Stratford but was now rich enough to be able to buy a second property here. Maybe it was his bolthole in the capital, maybe simply an investment or a holiday home, there isn’t even enough documentary evidence to prove he ever stayed the night. Whatever the reason, when he bequeathed it to his daughter he left us one of only six confirmed signatures still in existence today.

The best guess is that the property may have occupied the north side of Ireland Yard where it joins St Andrew’s Hill, which is where the City of London have placed another blue plaque.

Things would have been a lot busier around here in early Jacobean times, not least because of the Blackfriars Theatre where Shakespeare’s troupe played out the winter months. These days the bypassed quadrant of backstreets to the south of Ludgate Hill goes mostly unnoticed except by those who work here, which is a shame because it’s almost quaint in parts. It’s also easier here than at the Barbican to imagine our greatest playwright stepping out from home… until that fateful day exactly 405 years ago when Will’s will suddenly become important.

The color magenta

I think it has to be me, or at least my age, for I like to first express my thoughts on – shock – paper.

Using a propelling pencil, mine being a rather fine monogrammed Visconti Vincent van Gogh Starry Night Pencil, I can jot down ideas making alterations as I go along.

So why should I discuss this rather pointless snippet from my writing life?

Well, the manufacturers of the archetypal diary once beloved of the 1980s yuppies – The Filofax – produced a quite impressive accoutrement for the writing man.

The FiloFLEX, sold in a range of sizes and colours had a pen/pencil holder, provision for a writing pad and an additional jotting pad, five pockets to save jottings and paper scraps and somewhere to secure credit cards.

In this digital world, you won’t be surprised to learn that this cleverly designed accessory is now not manufactured by Filofax.

So the only way I could purchase an A5 example (already owning the pocket version) was to buy secondhand. Enter eBay.

Hence the rather fetching shade of pink described as magenta. But at £12, no questions asked Squire, it was a bargain.

Having collected my writing essentials the question now is, what today’s missive should be, and now needs writing, so if you’ll excuse me . . .

Gutenberg to Zuckerberg

Our insatiable appetite for a different means of communication seems to know no bounds. No sooner has one piece of technology been invented another supersedes it, not so for the Victorians who once thought that man had discovered everything and knew almost everything that was needed to know. They couldn’t have been further from knowing everything.

Hello?
No better illustration man’s pace of change was my maternal grandmother. Born during the reign of Queen Victoria, she was a young woman when Orville Wright took to the skies to complete man’s first flight in 1903. In her twilight years, she had witnessed man walking on the moon, a triumph in radio transmission if ever there was one.

Life had changed so much around her during her 98 years she would refuse to answer the telephone having never had such a new-fangled contraption installed in her home.

0493-Printing-Press-q75-1039x1167

Hot Metal
In the early 1960s, I started working in Clerkenwell learning the rudiments of a trade that had changed little over 400 years since Wynkyn de Worde set up his printing press in Fleet Street to bring the written word to a wider public. By the end of the previous century we had moved away from setting the words by means hand composing to the quicker method of casting type line by line, but even then we still used wooden type for display lines.

type - httpwww.flickr.comphotospurdman1

Once the page had been assembled it would be locked tight, hand inked and pressed against paper using a proofing press identical to ones shown in the newspaper offices depicted in old Hollywood cowboy films.

Cold Type
Within less than 10 years the three-dimensional type of old was being cast aside to embrace computerised typesetting that required smaller premises and less staff. Its early prototype was the IBM golf ball typewriter which, it seems crazy now, required the operator to key the line twice, once for the text and a second keying for justification.

tumblr_kztx4rGMeJ1qb4a07o1_500

Bearing Fruit
Soon Steve Jobs’ Mac came on the market for a fraction of the price of the early systems which had cost a minimum of £¼ million, bringing with it greater flexibility and ease of use for instead of using a code, icons displayed on the screen would make navigating around the system child’s play.

Christmas Present
Now as if to prove how wrong those Victorians were, an Englishman who invented a system which was only first successfully used on Christmas Day 1990 has transformed our lives. It seems hardly possible now that Sir Tim Berners-Lee’s internet has only been with us for 21 years.

Mind Bending
Now according to recent research, the internet is changing the way our brains process thought by encouraging us to think less deeply on one subject while processing many other pieces of information. This, probably the most important invention since the arrival of the printed word has become a valuable tool to seek information, and the method of choice in which to communicate with others – whatever would my Granny have thought?

Blog typewriter

Electric Ink
Now my and your thoughts, ideas the beliefs have long-lasting shelf lives. Unlike the printed material of my youth which was distributed locally and in all probability thrown away – well most of mine were – anyone in the world can access a webpage or blog, and more importantly, anyone can now start to broadcast to the world.

Now L’Enfant Terrible of the internet has arrived – Facebook – there you can write with less candour than might be prudent, upload pictures and describe your entire life that is if you think the world is ready . . .

Writers create, some suffer from the condition known as hypergraphia – the overwhelming urge to write – and spend more time writing that is probably good for their wellbeing, and as a consequence without much thought. This need to write manifests itself nowadays in blogs which are created for a number of reasons. Some might do it to help promote their work or influence an audience with their politics or passions. Some do it for money; others do it, well, for the sheer heck of it.

Nowadays on the internet, you will find few certainties but and plenty of opinions. I say this because, in this day and age, for it is extremely easy to start a blog and dish out advice without ever pausing for thought. In the endless hunt for comments and page views, too much opinion and personal experience get passed off as fact, when actually writers of blogs are in a very subjective business.

A version of this post was published by CabbieBlog on 24th February 2012

Gutenberg to Zuckerberg

typewriter

[O]ur insatiable appetite for a different means of communication seems to know no bounds. No sooner has one piece of technology been invented another supersedes it, not so for the Victorians who once thought that man had discovered everything and knew almost everything that was needed to know. They couldn’t have been further from knowing everything.

Hello?
No better illustration man’s pace of change was my maternal grandmother. Born during the reign of Queen Victoria, she was a young woman when Orville Wright took to the skies to complete man’s first flight in 1903. In her twilight years she had witnessed man walking on the moon, a triumph in radio transmission if ever there was one.

Life had changed so much around her during her 98 years she would refuse to answer the telephone having never had such a new fangled contraption installed in her home.

0493-Printing-Press-q75-1039x1167

Hot Metal
In the early 1960s I started working in Clerkenwell learning the rudiments of a trade that had changed little over 400 years since Wynkyn de Worde set up his printing press in Fleet Street to bring the written word to a wider public. By the end of the previous century we had moved away from setting the words by means hand composing to the quicker method of casting type line by line, but even then we still used wooden type for display lines.

type - httpwww.flickr.comphotospurdman1

Once the page had been assembled it would be locked tight, hand inked and pressed against paper using a proofing press identical to ones shown in the newspaper offices depicted in old Hollywood cowboy films.

Cold Type
Within less than 10 years the three dimensional type of old was being cast aside to embrace computerised typesetting that required smaller premises and less staff. Its early prototype was the IMB golf ball typewriter which, it seems crazy now, required the operator to key the line twice, once for the text and a second keying for justification.

tumblr_kztx4rGMeJ1qb4a07o1_500

Bearing Fruit
Soon Steve Jobs’ Mac came on the market for a fraction of the price of the early systems which had cost a minimum of £¼ million, bringing with it greater flexibility and ease of use for instead of using code, icons displayed on the screen would make navigating around the system child’s play.

Christmas Present
Now as if to prove how wrong those Victorians were, an Englishman who invented a system which was only first successfully used on Christmas Day 1990 has transformed our lives. It seems hardly possible now that Sir Tim Berners-Lee’s internet has only been with us for 21 years.

Mind Bending
Now according to recent research the internet is changing the way our brains process thought by encouraging us to think less deeply on one subject while processing many other pieces of information. This, probably the most important invention since the arrival of the printed word has become a valuable tool to seek information, and the method of choice in which to communicate with others – whatever would my Granny have thought?

Blog typewriter

Electric Ink
Now my and your thoughts, ideas the beliefs have long lasting shelf lives. Unlike the printed material of my youth which were distributed locally and in all probability thrown away – well most of mine were – anyone in the word can access a webpage or blog, and more importantly anyone can now start to broadcast to the world.

Now L’Enfant Terrible of the internet has arrived – Facebook – there you can write with less candour than might be prudent, upload pictures and describe your entire life that is if you think the world is ready . . .

Writers create, some suffer from the condition known as hypergraphia – the overwhelming urge to write – and spend more time writing than is probably good for their wellbeing, and as a consequence without much thought. This need to write manifests itself nowadays in blogs which are created for a number of reasons. Some might do it to help promote their work or influence an audience with their politics or passions. Some do it for money; others do it, well, for the sheer heck of it.

Nowadays on the internet you will find few certainties but and plenty of opinions. I say this because, in this day and age, for it is extremely easy to start a blog and dish out advice without ever pausing for thought. In the endless hunt for comments and page views, too much opinion and personal experience gets passed off as fact, when actually writers of blogs are in a very subjective business.