I’ve
said many times that the truest tribute a writer can receive is to be read, enjoyed
and passed along to other readers. In contrast, formal literary criticism is anemic
and beside-the-point – academic in the modern sense (OED: “of no consequence, irrelevant”). A good book requires only a
good reader to fulfill its purpose.
In
1603, John Florio published the first English translation of Montaigne’s Essays, the version read by Shakespeare.
A second edition appeared in 1613. Prefixed
to it is a sonnet presumed to have been written by Florio (it has also been
attributed to Samuel Daniel) and sometimes titled: “Concerning the Honour of
Books”:
“Since
honour from the honourer proceeds,
How
well do they deserve, that memorize,
And
leave in Books for all posterities
The
names of worthies and their virtuous deeds;
When
all their glory else, like water-weeds,
Without
their element, presently dies,
And
all their greatness quite forgotten lies,
And
when and how they flourished no man heeds
How
poor remembrances are statues, tombs,
And
other monuments that men erect
To
princes, which remain in closèd rooms
Where
but a few behold them, in respect
Of
Books, that to the universal eye
Show
how they lived; the other where they lie!”
Cranks
have long nominated Florio as the “true” Shakespeare, but they’ll find little evidence
for their case in this poem, which shows none of the convoluted brilliance and
memorability we know from Shakespeare’s sonnets. It’s straightforward and
almost too neat a package at the end, and yet its conventionality and optimism
are touching. Read “How poor remembrances are statues, tombs, / And other
monuments that men erect / To
princes” and think of “Ozymandias” and, on a more exalted level, Horace’s Odes III: XXX, line 1: “I have created a monument more lasting than bronze.” If
Florio is the author of the sonnet, it’s not the sonnet we remember him for but
the prose he gave to Shakespeare.
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