Product Description

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #909415 in Books
• Published on: 2006-01-10
• Released on: 2006-01-10
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 432 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Riggs (Ben Jonson: A Life), an English professor at Stanford University, traces the life of Elizabethan poet, playwright and spy Christopher Marlowe (1564–1593), placing him in the context of the institutions that both fostered his keen intellect and reinforced his awareness of his lowly class origins (his father was a shoemaker). Riggs suggests that Marlowe, Shakespeare's great contemporary, author of Tamburlaine and Dr. Faustus, may have sought to overcome those origins through his unusual and dangerous career path. Working in the New Historicist vein most recently mined by Stephen Greenblatt in Will in the World, Riggs evokes the pedagogical preoccupations of Marlowe's school and university education, revealing layers of intricate detail in Marlowe's formation as a literary artist: his study and translation of Ovid, his innovations in blank verse, and the substance and reception of all of his plays and poetry. While downplaying Marlowe's disputed sexuality, Riggs pays careful attention to the homoerotic and homophobic aspects of his plays, most notably Edward II, considering each in its contemporary moral and political setting. Riggs concludes with fresh insights into the mysterious circumstances of Marlowe's violent death. This study balances close literary readings with lucidly presented historical context to give us a portrait of a brilliant but volatile enigma who shunned convention in favor of risk and marginality. 50 b&w illus.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The Washington Post
William Shakespeare, according to Keats, possessed "negative capability," that is, he was able to become so fully each of his characters that his own personality remains permanently elusive. As a result, we can never quite picture the creator of "Hamlet," "Henry IV" and "As You Like It": He contains multitudes, though he probably thought of himself as just another hard-working theater professional, a businessman of letters.

Biographical information about Shakespeare is frustratingly sparse, and no more plentiful for his great contemporary Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593), stabbed to death at age 29 in an argument over a tavern bill. But where Shakespeare is everyone and no one, Marlowe has passed into history as the most glamorous figure of England's literary Renaissance. Read his plays, and their melodramatic heroes -- the wizard Dr. Faustus, the conqueror Tamburlaine, the homosexual Edward II, the duplicitous Barabas -- might all be played by their flamboyant, youthful creator.

For in his time, and ever since, Marlowe has been viewed as the epitome of the intellectual over-reacher -- "I count religion but a childish toy,/ And hold there is no sin but ignorance." So says Barabas in "The Jew of Malta," but voicing what seems Marlowe's own opinions. Born in Canterbury, the young man first soaked up learning as a poor scholarship student at Cambridge, then became a translator, poet, playwright, atheist, sodomite, streetfighter, counterfeiter, spy and finally a man who knew too much for his own good. One afternoon Robert Poley, Ingram Frizer and Nicholas Skerres -- their very names are sinister -- enticed him to the Widow Bull's in Deptford, where they all ate and drank, then quarreled over "the reckoning." A struggle ensued, only to stop when Marlowe's own dagger, with his hand still around its hilt, was driven back through his right eye deep into his brain. Was it a contract killing, as many scholars now believe? "Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight." Christopher Marlowe's life was suddenly over; his legend had just begun.

From the very first, "Kind Kit" Marlowe inspired deep emotions, affection from fellow writers like Thomas Nashe (who worked with him on "The Jew of Malta") and Thomas Kyd (his sometime roommate and the likely author of an early play about Hamlet, as well as "The Spanish Tragedy") but also envy, animosity and hatred. Yet even when his enemies attacked this upstart, they somehow portrayed him as insidiously attractive, an Elizabethan Rimbaud or Jim Morrison. His former school chum Gabriel Harvey tut-tutted that he neither "feared God, nor dreaded Div'll,/ Nor ought admired, but his wondrous selfe." Thomas Warton asserted that his translation of Ovid's Amores conveyed "the obscenities of the brothel in elegant language." (Quite true: In one love poem Marlowe boldly writes, "Lo, I confess, I am thy captive I,/ And hold my conquer'd hands for thee to tie"; another takes up sexual impotence.) It seems appropriate that this same genius should also have composed the most limpidly beautiful lyric of the age, "Come live with me, and be my love."

According to C.S. Lewis, in a memorable summation, Marlowe is "our great master of the material imagination; he writes best about flesh, gold, gems, stone, fire, clothes, water, snow, and air." Certainly, his one long poem, "Hero and Leander," portrays a delicious holiday-world, where beauty and sensuality are one. As Leander reminds the virginal Hero, acolyte of Venus:

. . . . The rites
In which love's beauteous empress most delights,
Are banquets, Doric music, midnight revel,
Plays, masques, and all that stern age counteth evil.

Many readers will recognize this poem's most famous couplet: "Where both deliberate, the love is slight;/ Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?" Yet this "erotic epyllion" shimmers with sensuous passages, like this provocative description of Hero and Leander making love: "She trembling strove; this strife of hers (like that/ Which made the world) another world begat/ Of unknown joy." As always with Marlowe, he is particularly good at depicting the power of youthful male beauty. Of Leander he concludes that "Jove might have sipp'd out nectar from his hand" while he later describes a beautiful shepherd boy who "of the cooling river durst not drink,/ Lest water-nymphs should pull him from the brink."

Something of this elegant love-banter continues in the earliest of Marlowe's dramas, "Dido and Aeneas." Not as admired as his later tragedies, it is nonetheless a kind of stately opera in prose (and one that occasionally recalls Purcell's musical masterpiece of the same title). Consider any of Dido's last pleading speeches before Aeneas abandons her to sail for Rome. The heroine's sentiments are universal, and echo modern Country-and-Western heartbreakers as much as Vergil:

Why look'st thou toward the sea? The time hath been
When Dido's beauty chain'd thine eyes to her.
Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first?
Oh, then, Aeneas, 'tis for grief of thee!
Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy queen,
And Dido's beauty will return again.

Marlowe's most celebrated play is doubtless "Dr. Faustus" -- the story of the scholar who sells his soul to the devil and then doesn't quite know what to do with the power and knowledge he acquires. Naturally, Mephistopheles diverts his victim with sexual romps:

Marriage is but a ceremonial toy;
And if thou lovest me, think no more of it.
I'll cull thee out the fairest courtesans,
And bring them ev'ry morning to thy bed:
She whom thine eye shall like, thy heart shall have,
Were she as chaste as was Penelope,
As wise as Sava, or as beautiful
As was bright Lucifer before his fall.

Note, however, the unexpected shift to male beauty in the last line, the same kind of slither that takes place in the latter part of the gorgeous soliloquy about Helen of Troy ("Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?"):

O, thou art fairer than the evening's air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appear'd to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azured arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour.

Some have held that "Edward II" -- about that king's passion for his minion Gaveston -- is a better-made play than "Dr. Faustus"; certainly its scene of Edward's murder -- with hints of violation with a red-hot poker -- make for horrifying and powerful theater. To my mind, "The Jew of Malta" might well be regarded as Marlowe's meditation on espionage, since Barabas practices all the skills of the spy and the double agent. It is also a play that Shakespeare must have seen, for at one point the merchant exclaims: "But stay: What star shines yonder in the east?/ The loadstar of my life, if Abigail." In our own time, the play's most famous exchange provided T.S. Eliot with an epigraph: "Thou hast committed -- / Fornication; but that was in another country;/ And besides, the wench is dead."

Great as all these works are, for Elizabethans Christopher Marlowe was above all the dramatist of "Tamburlaine," the shepherd turned conqueror, the wind from the east, the Scourge of God:

I hold the Fates bound in iron chains,
And with my hand turn Fortune's wheel about
And sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere
Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome.

This vast two-part historical drama established blank verse -- what Ben Jonson called "Marlowe's mighty line" -- as a medium for drama, and related its hero's whirlwind career with subtlety and feeling. Tamburlaine may rant, but he can also express himself in exquisite poetry, as when the dread warrior rejects a last-minute plea for mercy:

I will not spare these proud Egyptians,
Nor change my martial observations
For all the wealth of Gihon's golden waves,
Or for the love of Venus, would she leave
The angry god of arms and lie with me.
They have refused the offer of their lives,
And know my customs are as peremptory
As wrathful planets, death, or destiny.

Discoveries about Kit Marlowe have produced some of the most exciting works of 20th-century literary scholarship: Leslie Hotson's ground-breaking The Death of Christopher Marlowe; John Bakeless's capacious two-volume Tragical History of Christopher Marlowe (chockablock with documentation); and, not least, Charles Nicholl's award-winning recreation of the shadow-realm of Elizabethan espionage, The Reckoning. To this company we must now add David Riggs's The World of Christopher Marlowe, the best one-volume introduction to its subject's life and times. As his title suggests, Riggs supplements our paltry factual knowledge about Marlowe by describing his various milieux: Canterbury and Cambridge, the London theater scene, the world of religious and intellectual iconoclasm and, finally, the dark realm of terrorist plots and political assassination. It is a good and reliable book.

But it lacks the sheer excitement of the earlier works just mentioned, as it does the pleasure of two fine novels based on Marlowe's life: George Garrett's Entered by the Sun and Anthony Burgess's A Dead Man in Deptford. Still, Christopher Marlowe is one of those figures about whom one wants to read everything written, and Riggs's book is now the best starting place -- if we exclude the dramas and poems of Marlowe himself, "infinite riches in a little room." Now, if only some scholar would discover the texts of Marlowe's two lost and suggestively titled plays, "The Maiden's Holiday" and "Lust's Dominion."

Copyright 2005, The Washington Post Co. All Rights Reserved.

From Booklist
*Starred Review* A biography of Shakespeare's greatest forebear in the Elizabethan theater must be the product of considerable grubbing and decoding. No portrait of Marlowe (1564-93) exists; he is referred to by several names (e.g., Morley, Merlin) that are spelled and, one would think, pronounced differently; and he had reasons to be untraceable, including the disesteem in which playwrights were held and his work-for-hire as a secret agent, maybe even a double agent, of the factions contending for power in England. Those contestants were the queen and high-church Protestants; the disestablished English Catholic Church and Catholic aristocrats at home and expatriate; and the rising Puritans, who could practically ally with the Catholics. Intelligent young lower-class men like Marlowe, the Cambridge scholarship-student son of an originally itinerant worker, functioned with enormous fluidity among those factions. Basically, Marlowe was a queen's man, but he was often arrested and ultimately murdered, Riggs shows, because he was suspected of being, or about to become, an atheist collaborator with the Catholics. His plays, as Riggs very persuasively parses them, argue that he was indeed atheist; with his reported behavior--rambunctious and blasphemous--they argue that he was antinomian and antiauthoritarian, too. Outstanding social history, detective work, literary analysis, and portrayal of a truly dangerous time and place--Elizabethan London. Ray Olson
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Customer Reviews

The play's the thing
This is a very absorbing, sometimes astonishing, short bio of the playwright Christopher Marlowe, with a lot of detail of the time and place. The harshness of the times, the austere educational system that Marlowe survived all the way to an MA, his mysterious activities as a spy, all make for an exotic picture of a world that seems, for all its lingering barbarism, more attuned to poetry that our own. This has to be one of the most seminal eras of history, soon to produce the rarest of the rare periods of tragic drama. In that emerging sequence, Marlowe stands out for his bold embrace of the iambic pentameter, the at first poor cousin of the Latin hexameter, yet soon to shine in Shakesperean glory. Marlowe's short but brilliant career ends ambiguously, his murder more than what appears on the surface, perhaps a government assassination. The image of Faust.

great for english lit...but skim some
I agree with the reader who says the book is often abstruse. The chapter on double-agenting had my eyes rolling and I was constantly looking back pages to see who's who. Add to this the fact that these Brits (or their elite) can be referred to by a seemingly endless list of tiles each (and, then, their names, as well) and that the minor functionaries and offices of government aren't on everyone's tongue and one often feels mired in the mud. I think this could have been alleviated with chapter introductions or summaries or just a more prudent handling of the proper nouns. Anyway, when I get to that point in any book, I just try to make sure I'm getting the main point and head thru at a trot.... Life is short, and there's so much to read!

What I got that was positive from this book, and it was very positive indeed, was a sense of M's contribution to blank verse and the development of Elizabethan drama. I went to my shelves to look at some earlier stuff, and yeppir, there's Marlowe at the dividing line. This certainly gave me a whole new appreciation of him as a figure in English literature and has got me back to sampling some other Elizabethan writing, including his ,comparing and contrasting, which is a nice trip. Very interesting to see how these boy's classical education trained them to snap off large amounts of magnificent English poetry. (The last British governor of Chad remarked in the NYRB that he had zero training when assigned, but the underlying assumption of his superiors was that if you translate Latin poetry to Greek poetry ad lib you could surely run a country! I suppose history has dimmed that conceit, but as a liberal artser, I liked it anyway.)

The historical/political background was already well known to me and as far as who might have or could have done this or that, I like my speculation with the facts.

(The book is unfortunatly cheaply produced, though not more so than many, and and the illustrations are really muddy. A book can be handsomely done for $30. Check out, for instance, Who Murdered Chaucer - St. Martin's Press - for a sad contrast in book production, also a $30 dollar item.)

A Remarkable Book
Christopher Marlowe, the Elizabethan poet and playwright, was one of the most talented members of his generation. He helped pioneer the use of blank verse in dramatic poetry and used it to produce five masterpieces while William Shakespeare--who was only two months younger than Marlowe--was still finding his dramatic footing. Who can say how great he might have become if he were not cut down (possibly on orders of the Queen, herself) at the age of 29.

As a man, Marlowe was the "unShakespeare". Where Shakespeare was a prudent man who invested his money wisely and was careful not to offend authority, Marlowe was a risk-taker both in his personal life and in his plays. In an age where not toeing the official ine was punishable by death, Marlowe never met a line he was not tempted to cross. If this is what got him killed, it also makes him a fascinating person to read about.

David Riggs weaves Marlowe's personal tragedy into an exciting volume that I found as hard to put down as any thriller. It is a book I can heartily recomend.