England’s Heritage in Photos: Swinstead Church of Saint Mary, Lincolnshire – More Medieval Wall Art

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Swinstead lies in the beautiful south west Lincolnshire in the east of England.

Interestingly, in Shakespeare’s play King John, Swinstead is mentioned several times, maybe in mistake for Swineshead, where King John is thought to have visited on his last journey, before he died at Newark in Nottinghamshire.

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Like nearby Corby Glen church, there are some examples of medieval wall art.

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There is an explanation for the symbols incorporated into the wall art.

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copyright words and photos Francis Barker 2019

Christopher Marlowe, died this day, 1593

The man who many see as the forerunner to playwright William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, died on this day (May 30) 1593, in Deptford, London.

Marlowe was born in Canterbury, Kent, England, sometime in mid to late February 1564. There is an extant record showing that he was baptised on February 26 of that year.

In those days babies were usually christened quite quickly because of high mortality rates among infants. Therefore Marlowe was probably born just two to three days before this date.

Low Born

Although born to a cobbler, it would seem that young Christopher was quite a precocious child. He went to The King’s School in Canterbury.

It’s worth remembering that then, as still now, Canterbury is the seat of England’s premier archbishop, a very important place.

Later, though perhaps at a relatively late juncture in his early life, he went to Corpus Christi College, Cambridge on a Parker scholarship.

Absences

In 1584 he got his BA degree and an MA in 1587, although the university was reluctant to award him the latter because of certain, irregular, though quite lengthy absences from the college.

Suffice it to say, that much has been written and speculated about these absences, as well as what he purportedly believed. Some say he was an atheist, despite spending years studying divinity.

Meteoric Career

Nevertheless, Marlowe went on to a meteoric literary career as a poet and playwright. He is often credited with inventing blank verse, poetry which doesn’t rhyme but written usually in iambic pentameter.

His play ‘Tamburlaine the Great’, was a huge success in London in 1587, so much so that he wrote a second part to it the following year.

There followed a string of ‘hit’ plays; ‘The Jew of Malta’, ‘Edward the Second’, ‘The Massacre at Paris’ and, probably his most famous play, ‘Doctor Faustus’.

Courted Controversy

The subject matter of his plays was often controversial, as was his apparent second career as a spy, or ‘intelligencer’ for the Elizabethan government. He seems to have been recruited for this whilst still at university.

Such controversy finally caught up with him in May 1593, when, after apparently being arrested on charges of ‘blasphemy’, released on bail, and then spending a whole day in an obscure house or pub with some rather shady ‘friends’ – he ended up being infamously murdered, during an argument about the bill, the ‘reckoning’.

Reputation

The circumstances of this too are endlessly speculated on. Incredibly, the inquest of this murder was discovered as recently as 1925.

Even Shakespeare may allude to this in his play, ‘As You Like It’, where he seems to have known some of the details of Marlowe’s premature death.

So Marlowe’s meteoric rise and fame lasted about six years. After this, his reputation, maybe because of the controversy he courted, fell away dramatically.

Today, however, his reputation is back on the rise. He is seen as the true forerunner to Shakespeare, someone who ‘set the scene’ for The Bard’s longer career.

copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019

Soon I intend to do another piece speculating Marlowe’s birthdate and time for my ‘Astrology Musings’ section.

*If you would like a personal astrology report, please contact me on: leoftanner@gmail.com or details.

Milly Reynolds Crime Fiction Author – Happy Saint George’s Day

horsechestnut

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Milly-Reynolds/e/B0056IY4OE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
http://www.amazon.com/Milly-Reynolds/e/B0056IY4OE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1366716704&sr=8-1

English crime fiction author, Milly Reynolds celebrates England’s national day, which, rather conveniently also happens to be Shakespeare’s birthday.
Milly’s books simply could not be more English!
So, to anyone who thinks about England, has English roots, or who would like to recognise the positive side of this small country, which has contributed so much to the world – have a great day!

© copyright David F. Barker 2013

The Preview

Christopher Marlowe

Christopher Marlowe (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m sorry, but I think you’re in my seat. OK, let’s
have a look at your ticket. Oh yes, that’s it, you
need to move along one. Thanks very much,
no harm done.

Ah, looks like it might be a full house tonight.
Maybe it’s the intrigue surrounding the play.
What do I mean? Well, you know – Cardenio,
and all that. One of his supposed ‘missing’ plays.
Apocrypha, I believe that’s the right term,
although that word always sounds so medicinal
to me! Anyhow, what I mean is, it all seems a
little too suspect, if you want my opinion,
something they’ve cobbled together from
various sources, though I’m sure it will be
enjoyable all the same. Better than reading Don
Quixote again, at any rate! What was that? You
think it is pretty close to the original? Right. Well,
we will see. I mean, who among us has read the
original? Oh, I see. Mn.

But then of course, there are still those who
believe he never wrote any of those plays.
And you must admit, you can see where
they’re coming from, can’t you? Well, he was,
after all, relatively uneducated, say compared
to Fletcher, even Ben Jonson. Could he really
have written Hamlet or King Lear, or described
places like Italy so well without ever setting
foot there? I have my doubts.

I say, are you feeling alright? You’re looking a
little off colour.

Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, have I
seen you here before? Maybe in town
somewhere. I thought so! I do apologise if I’m
staring but there’s something about your face,
your eyes. That hairline. And the beard. Wait!
Do you know, you’re the spitting image of that
portrait of… they found in Corpus Christi…

© copyright David Francis Barker 2012

* some time ago we went to see the play Cardenio at Stratford, which was based on parts of a play which may have been written by Shakespeare, which itself was based on Cervantes’ Don Quixote. I imagined myself in the theatre talking to the ghost of Christopher Marlowe, who some believe to be the real Shakespeare. Complicated, it is! But then real history always is, not like the myth that we are presented with most of the time at school and elsewhere…

Poem ‘The Country’ (for England)

“Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget;
For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet.”

from ‘The Secret People’ by G. K. Chesterton

The Country

It’s all around them, though they never see it,
like Jesus said about the Kingdom of Heaven.

Some, even a poet, say it cannot be defined,
even though they are immersed in it,
like fishes swimming blind to the sea.

They take it for granted, spurn it,
but they are born in it and nurtured by it,
educated and employed by it,
and then nursed to the very end.

They say the language is not ours,
that it belongs to the world,
or to the oppressed,
to anyone with a cause
except our own.

Countless cocks have crowed,
but each time its existence is denied,
its very future put up for discussion
by people who owe it everything –
yet who would rather die than accept it
for what it is.

poem and image © copyright df barker 2012

*** For Saint George’s Day on April 23, patron Saint of England (and other places) for around 700 years, at least. William Shakespeare (1564-1616), a candidate surely for ‘Greatest Ever Englishman’, was born, and apparently died, on this day. This is not meant to be overtly nationalistic, but to simply, starkly, re-iterate that the feeling that poets and people in the past saw as a reality, is still clearly evident today.

* First published, without the quotation, in poetry collection ‘Anonymous Lines’, available at amazon.

**The image is reproduced from a painting based on a scene at Southwold, Suffolk, a quintessentially English seaside town.

Stratford Upon Avon… again

Don’t get me wrong, I like Stratford, birthplace of one the greatest (if not THE greatest) Englishmen who ever lived. The major changes to the theatres are nearly complete and it will be a spectacular venue for the plays of which I am so fond. What I was not so keen on, a little while back, were the ‘begging buckets’ after a performance to help retired actors – a worthy cause indeed – but I found it a little incongruous immediately afterwards walking by the multi-million upgrade of the theatres. Well, what I mean is, couldn’t some of that money have been used to look after those older thespians, rather than putting it all in the new buildings? Yes, it all began before the credit crunch, and we now live in an age of austerity, but couldn’t someone with some foresight have thought that perhaps these improvements were, shall we say, a little over the top?

Anyhow, this time we went to see Morte d’Arthur, a play (based on a series of books/plays) written originally by Thomas Malory in the fifteenth century, given a modern makeover and quite honestly, it is the best performance I have seen at the Courtyard Theatre in years. Yes, it isn’t Shakespeare but it fits in wonderfully, and anyone familiar with the film Excalibur will be reminded of that fine film, with only Wagner missing to highlight the various tableaux. Nevertheless, this performance did not need Wagner. The ideas are wonderful; jousting given a realistic feel with men acting as horses underneath knights in vivid medieval colour; medieval plainsong wonderfully sung by the cast; Sam Troughton ageing convincingly, seemingly without makeup.

In a nutshell, I left the theatre more enthused and entertained than ever before. Well done Mike Poulton and Greg Doran. It was a long time in the making but worth waiting for.