Four hundred years ago in London, when most of his audience were
illiterate, William Shakespeare was the most popular of playwrights.
Today, in London and Hollywood and everywhere, the same is true.
His authority rivals the Bible and the Koran. His lines and
stories (at least in print) are so established that they are regularly
plundered by other writers for stage and film and psychiatry — as well as
after-dinner speakers.
In England he is the national hero of respectable culture, on the
curriculae of schools at all levels. Worldwide, Shakespeare and the
English language are almost synonymous. Although no-one knows what he
looked like, his image is evoked on stamps, in advertising and brand
names. I own an empty carton of "Falstaff Sprouts" that I found
in the Farmer's Market on Fairfax Avenue in Los Angeles. It is pleasing
that the most omnipresent Englishman is not from the military, politics or
royalty but from the theatre.
Would this have happened so enduringly if Shakespeare hadn't
written the sort of parts in which daring actors continue to test
themselves by thrilling a live audience? Throughout the world — far
beyond the English-speaking territories — his plays are performed in
translation and his poems are learnt and read.
The notion of "The Shakespearian Actor" thrives, at
least in my country. As well as the Royal Shakespeare Company, the British
public help fund the Royal National Theatre, whose core charge is to
preserve and foster his writings. — Ian McKellen, October 2000