Sir Philip Sidney, engraving by H. Robinson.© Georgios Kollidas/Shutterstock.com
Chapman, Jonson, and Shakespeare
The poetry and drama of Shakespeare’s time were a concourse of themes ancient and modern, Continental and English. Prominent among these motives were the characteristic topics of humanism. George Chapman, the translator of Homer, was a forthright exponent of the theory of poetry as moral wisdom, holding that it surpassed all other intellectual pursuits. Ben Jonson described his own humanistic mission when he wrote that a good poet was able “to inform young men to all good disciplines, inflame grown men to all great virtues, keep old men in their best and supreme state, or, as they decline to childhood, recover them to their first strength” and that the poet was “the interpreter and arbiter of nature, a teacher of things divine no less than human, a master in manners.” Jonson, who sought this moral goal both in his tragedies and in his comedies, paid tribute to the humanistic tradition in Catiline (1611), a tragedy in which Cicero’s civic eloquence is portrayed in heroic terms.
Less overtly humanistic though in fact more profoundly so was William Shakespeare. Thoroughly versed (probably at his grammar school) in Classical poetic and rhetorical practice, Shakespeare early in his career produced strikingly effective imitations of Ovid and Plautus— Venus and Adonis (composed 1592–93) and The Comedy of Errors (c. 1589–94), respectively—and drew on Ovid and Livy for his poem The Rape of Lucrece (1594). In Julius Caesar (1599–1600), Antony and Cleopatra (1606–07), and Coriolanus (c. 1608), he developed Plutarchan biography into drama that, though Elizabethan in structure, is Classical in tone. Shakespeare clearly did not accept all the precepts of English humanism at face value. He grappled repeatedly with the problem of reconciling Christian doctrine with effective political action and for a while—e.g., in Henry V (1599)—seemed inclined toward the Machiavellian alternative. In Troilus and Cressida (1601–02), moreover, he broadly satirized Chapman’s Homeric revival and, more generally, the humanistic habit of idolizing Classical heroism. Finally, he eschewed the moralism, rationalism, and self-conscious erudition of the humanists and was lacking as well in their fraternalism and their theoretical bent. Yet, on a deeper level, he must be acknowledged as a direct and natural heir of Petrarch, Boccaccio, Castiglione, and Montaigne. Like them, he delighted more in presenting issues than in espousing systems and held critical awareness, as opposed to doctrinal rectitude, to be the highest possible good. His plays reflect an inquiry into human character entirely in accord with the humanistic emphasis on the dignity of the emotions, and indeed it may be said that his unprecedented use of language as a means of psychological revelation gave striking support to the humanistic contention that language was the heart of culture and the index of the soul. Similarly, Shakespeare’s unparalleled realism may be seen as the ultimate embodiment, in poetic terms, of the intense concern for specificity—be it in description, measurement, or imitation—endorsed across the board by humanists from Boccaccio and Salutati on. Shakespearean drama is a treasury of the disputes that frustrated and delighted humanism, including (among many others) action versus contemplation, theory versus practice, res versus verbum, monarchy versus republic, human dignity versus human depravity, and individualism versus communality. In treating these polarities, Shakespeare generally proceeds in the manner of Castiglione and Montaigne, presenting structures of balanced contraries rather than syllogistic endorsements of one side or another. In so doing, he achieves a higher realism, transcending the mere imitation of experience and creating, in all its conflict and fertility, a mirror of mind itself. Since the achievement of such psychological and cultural self-awareness was the primary goal of humanistic inquiry, and since humanists agreed that poetry was an uncommonly effective medium for this achievement, Shakespeare must be acknowledged as a preeminent humanist.
William Shakespeare, detail of an oil painting attributed to John Taylor, c. 1610. The portrait is called the “Chandos Shakespeare” because it once belonged to the duke of Chandos.Courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London (http://www.npg.org.uk)
One cannot leave Shakespeare and the phenomenon of English humanism without reference to a highly important aspect of his later drama. Throughout his career, Shakespeare had shown a keen interest in the concept of art, not only as a general idea but also with specific reference to his own identity as dramatist. In two of his final plays, The Winter’s Tale (c. 1609–11) and The Tempest (c. 1611), he developed this concept into dramatic and thematic structures that had strongly doctrinal implications. Major characters in both plays practice a moral artistry—a kind of humanitas compounded of awareness, experience, imagination, compassion, and craft—that enables them to beguile and dominate other characters and to achieve enduring justice. This special skill, which is cognate with Shakespeare’s own dramatic art, suggests a hypothetical solution to many of the dilemmas posed in his earlier work. It implies that problems unavailable to political or religious remedy may be solved by creative innovation and that the art by which things are known and expressed may constitute, in and of itself, a valid field of inquiry and an instrument for cultural renewal. In developing this idea of the sovereignty of art, Shakespeare made the final major contribution to a humanistic tradition that will be discussed in the two sections that follow. Humanism and the visual arts
Humanistic themes and techniques were woven deeply into the development of Italian Renaissance art. Conversely, the general theme of “art” was prominent in humanistic discourse. The mutually enriching character of the two disciplines is evident in a variety of areas. Realism
Humanists paid conscious tribute to realistic techniques in art that had developed independently of humanism. Giotto, the Florentine painter responsible for the movement away from the Byzantine style and toward ancient Roman technique, was praised by Giorgio Vasari as “the pupil of Nature.” Giotto’s own contemporary Giovanni Boccaccio said of him in the Decameron that
The Nativity, fresco by Giotto, c. 1305–06, depicting the birth of Jesus; in the Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy.ART Collection/Alamy
there was nothing in Nature—the mother and ruling force of all created things with her constant revolution of the heavens—that he could not paint with his stylus, pen, or brush or make so similar to its original in Nature that it did not appear to be the original rather than a reproduction. Many times, in fact, in observing things painted by this man, the visual sense of men would err, taking what was painted to be the very thing itself.
Boccaccio, himself a naturalist and a realist, here subtly adopts the painter’s achievement as a justification for his own literary style. So Shakespeare, at the end of the Renaissance, praises Giulio Romano (and himself), “who, had he himself eternity and could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape” (The Winter’s Tale). It should be noted that neither Vasari nor Boccaccio nor Shakespeare endorses realistic style as a summum bonum. Rather, realism is the means for regaining touch with the sovereign creative principle of Nature. Classicism