Have you ever wanted to read a 400-page book in verse?
No?
… why not???
Honestly, it wasn't something I thought I would be too crazy about - but I picked up The Marlowe Papers by Ros Barber at Chapters for 3 dollars. For a book that was clearly such a labour of love and intense historical fascination, it was a good deal.
The Marlowe Papers is a fictional account of the rise and fall of one Christopher (affectionately known as Kit) Marlowe, who some scholars (intelligencers? academic conspiracy theorists?) believe was the one who really wrote Shakespeare’s work. Not Shakespeare. Crazy, right?
Maybe. Maybe not. Their works draw many a comparison. They were the same age (Marlowe was two months older) and Marlowe’s death in May of 1593 was suspicious at best. Marlowe was reportedly stabbed by a “fixer” over the bill while dining with 3 associates. The “fixer” received a not guilty verdict for reasons of self-defense, and a full pardon from the Queen less than a month later. The circumstances are fishy, and the compelling way in which Barber has imagined how this ruse would go down makes a great read, if you don’t mind iambic pentameter and a lot of classic English names, titles, and places that require some supplemental research to fully understand, if you’re Canadian. I believe the English might be a little more knowledgeable in this area. We weren’t learning about Tudor England in grade 10 history class in Ottawa. We spent 3 months on a handful of battles from the Great War (La Somme, Ypres, and of course, Vimy!) and zero time on the slaughtering of indigenous peoples.
I digress.
Did I mention Marlowe was a spy? A spy, and most of his friends were spies too!
I’m not sold that Kit Marlowe died in May of 1593. But I’m also not sold that he wrote Shakespeare’s work - some brief research confirms that this is a theory, but not a popular one.
Either way, I learned a lot, I was entertained, and once I got into the flow of the verse, it felt quite authentic, for someone who has only read 5 Shakespeare plays. It was a fun departure from the novels I’ve been reading of late. Even if you take away the history, the dirt roads and soggy clothes and black death, the poetry alone makes it worth a read. The love, lust, and longing he feels for his home and those who dwell there is only amplified by the setting.
3.5 stars. This had to be damn hard to write, but so satisfying to see bound with such a lovely cover.
Happy reading,
Holly
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