This is a very helpful post for me. I don’t seem to be able to drink much these days and put it down to getting older (forties) but maybe I’ll try the Qthingy. Thanks so much. I might also try posting a pair of pants to myself, or a few pairs, and see which ones make it through the post and which don’t. I think a leopard skin thong would be a good test. Not that I’ve got one at all in any way up in my undies draw, or in my floordrobe.

I am going to try and subscribe to your blog. I did your poetry workshop at the Wantage Lit Fest last year and enjoyed it. I have walked some of the walks you have walked, at least I think I have, in that I didn’t enjoy babies very much, and felt very torn.

Wouldn’t it be good if we could all have a few versions of ourselves? I need about three. And that’s if I sacrifice the movie-star me who lives in Malibu and wears shades to bed, instead of squinting at the drizzle in Oxfordshire.

I thought of you today as I have just finished writing a sonnet about my husband’s hankerchiefs and had your poem ‘Material’, which I enjoyed so much when you read it, in mind.

By now you may think I’m mildly off my rocker. True, but harmlessly so. I’m just a fan.

Cathyx

And yes, the rudeness does extend to both sides, you’re right … more than happy to have a convivial chat at some juncture, whether drunkenly down western road or otherwise … I have pretty much stepped aside from academia as no-one seems to want to give me a job (thereby hang several tales), so I may stray off-topic.

More to the point, congratulations on your book!

As to the general tone of debate on the Shakespeare authorship question, there are unfortunately astonishingly rude and dismissive people on all sides of it (Stratfordians sadly no exception) but I also note a minority of reasonable and rational individuals who recognise such behaviour is counter-productive and are able to discuss these matters without rancour and personal insult. I like to think this minority is steadily growing.

Perhaps we’ll have an opportunity to talk through some of the issues in a collegial and convivial atmosphere at some point; much as I am tempted to reply to one or two of your points here, I know that a blog comment is not really the best place for such things.

As to why I didn’t seek you out and ask you what happened, the idea just never occurred. Like you, I have a lot going on most of the time, and if something doesn’t work out, I tend to just let it go and turn my energy and attention to something else instead. Everything takes time, and preparing for the debate-that-never-was had taken quite enough time already; pursuing reasons for its non-occurrence didn’t look like a fruitful activity when I had a book to finish editing and goodness knows what else.

Anyway, appreciate you dropping by and explaining, Pete. Till the next time you walk me home from some rather drink-fuelled Early Modern do, my regards to Sir Francis…

Just found this, and thought that you deserved to know what happened from my end.

Having been asked to speak by Victoria who pulled out because she was on the verge of submitting her PhD (though not having been told anything about the format), I agreed because I wanted to help out a friend.

I then heard precisely nothing from Sussex Uni, or whoever the ‘nice man’ was who invited you, so mailed saying I presumed that seeing as I’d heard nothing in two weeks, it was plainly cancelled, and had accepted another engagement.

I received this mail:

Dear Pete,

I don’t think the room was available but I haven’t seen Mat since Thursday.

Thanks anyway,

So, Ros, you are not alone. It’s not the debate that’s the problem, it’s the culture at Sussex. My reply was perhaps harsh, but check out his …

Hi Paul,

Well, thanks for telling me – is there any reason you waited until now to inform a visiting scholar their services were not required?

Just wondering.

Dear Pete,

Vicky did not contact *** or myself about arranging for you to replace her as a speaker. The first we knew was last week when Vicky contacted me. Your email on Sunday was the first contact I had from you regarding speaking although I believe you have been in contact with ***. Did you receive any information to make you think the event had been cancelled prior to today’s response to your email? Has *** received a similar email regarding the treatment of ‘visiting scholars’?

Many thanks,

- I then got a bit miffed:

Dear ****,

Ignoring the fact that your first and second sentences are flatly contradictory, I would think it reasonable to expect that once the request had been made to me, and suggested to you, that you would contact me regarding arrangements, or to respectfully suggest that I was not needed. It is not incumbent upon the visitor to chase the organiser.

Yes, I did contact ***, though this was before I was made aware of who was organising the event, and I made no mention of arrangements. A moot point seeing as he didn’t reply.

I heard nothing whatsoever about the event other than that it existed.

With regards your final question, I take exception. I understand that *** is on leave, and therefore has no need to treat visiting scholars in any fashion whatsoever (and I definitely take exception to what can only be described as your ‘bunny ears’ – the implication is that you either take exception to my being described as visiting or as a scholar. As I am not employed by Sussex University, I can only assume you question my academic qualifications. But no matter). For the record, I approached *** as a friend rather than as an employee of Sussex.

Amazingly, I received no reply.

So. I won’t comment on Dave’s postings here other than to suggest that Ros was right to follow her instincts and not jump to conclusions. Oh, ok, I will. Sorry, Dave, but your comments show an astonishing lack of, well, anything. You couldn’t be more wrong, or more patronising.

I’m not convinced that you ‘win by default’, Ros, but that’s another question. Personally, I have yet to have an argument put forward that is more plausible than the one suggesting the Shakespeare was Shakespeare. If anything, it’s more likely Marlowe was the straw man. What I have noticed (and Ros is an honourable exception in this case) is that those who believe Shakespeare was Marlowe/Bacon/De Vere/the Akond of Swot are astonishingly rude and dismissive in their refusal to listen to the counter-arguments put against their proposals. When arguing against the orthodoxy, one has to be especially watertight … that’s the way it works. The arguments I’ve heard simply have not convinced, as there are always simple explanations to be found … and we know that the simplest explanations, while not necessarily the most exciting or romantic, are more often than not the right ones.

Maynard Keynes said ‘When the facts change, I change my mind. what do you do, sir?’ Something like that, anyway.

Thus far, the facts have not changed. Convince me they have, and I’ll change my mind.

Sorry to post this all so late, but I do wonder why, if you wanted to know why it didn’t happen, you didn’t just mail me! It’s not hard to find people these days …