To Bard or not to Bard

“I can’t take seriously anyone who calls Shakespeare ‘the Bard.’”

This statement was made recently on social media.

It got me pondering.

The author of the statement (hereafter referred to as 'The A') is esteemed, loved and admired – by no-one more than me.

His objection to the title ‘the Bard’ was along the lines of it demeaning Shakespeare, reducing him in some way.

What, my friends, is in a name?

The statement prompted a healthy trickle of responses, some agreeing, others pointing out that The A clearly couldn’t take seriously quite a large number of folks.

This is just a smattering of those employing the term ‘the Bard:’

Professor Farah Karim-Cooper, Dominic Dromgoole, Gary Taylor,

The Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, Tina Packer, Virginia Woolf,

Robert Burns, Coleridge, Byron, Keats, William S Burroughs,

Oxford University, Cambridge University Press, Oxford Literary Festival,

the Cambridge Quarterly, the Hay Festival, The Bodleian Library,

Yale University Press, The Times, The Telegraph,

Times Higher Education, The Financial Times, The Guardian,

The Washington Post, The New York Times.

Seriously? Are we not supposed to take any of them seriously?

It is difficult to find a book, paper, programme or theatre review on the subject of Shakespeare that doesn’t use the offending term ‘the Bard.’

This prompted me to do a little thinking on the matter.

Is it responsible or intelligent or even reasonable to dub William Shakespeare ‘the Bard,’ or is it the act of a buffoon?

It's clear that publishers, journalists and publicists are united in their belief that the ‘B’ word communicates significance and a weighty glamour to all things Shakespeare.

We can blame the 18th century actor David Garrick for starting it.

At the Shakespeare Jubilee in Stratford-upon-Avon, 1769, Garrick wrote the lines

"The Bard of all bards was a Warwickshire Bard…" amongst other adoring lines (see below) and that was it. Shakespeare was, forever after, the Bard.

What, then, signifies a bard?

A poet/singer of ancient times highly skilled and esteemed for telling epic and heroic tales.

These Celtic creatures were revered, sometimes feared, and legends abound of their magical powers, of the supernatural effects of their words.

No - no matter how much one might love Shakespeare, we can’t claim that of him.

Taliesin is one of the best known bards. His name means ‘radiant brow’ and nods to both the fact that he had a brilliant mind and a degree of physical attractiveness. It’s hard to tease out truth from legend, but it seems the great Bard of the Britons advised kings, including Arthur, and various royal courts were keen to enjoy his powers of poetry and prophecy, wise counsel and beautiful appearance.

But these guys were, in effect, minstrels. Clever, skilled improvisors and word-smiths, undoubtedly. That is probably where there is a fingertip-touch of similarity to Shakespeare. But minstrels, all the same.

Will was not a minstrel. He was a bloody fine playwright. I’m not belittling the ancient bards, by the way. I’m a big Beowulf fan. But the scale of Shakespeare’s work, the fine construction, the breadth of language, character, style, is far beyond the skill-set that the word ‘bard’ can convey.

So The A is quite right. The tag cuts Will down to size.

It is, quite simply, inaccurate.

‘The Bard’ tag also has a whiff of the Poet Laureate about it, framing Will as representative of our nation’s collective identity (whatever that is), speaking for all of us who inhabit this sceptr'd isle.

He doesn’t.

He wrote a load of plays that contain astonishing language, extraordinary resonances and which speak to nations across the world in a thousand different ways.

And yet, and yet…

The tag ‘the Bard’ is almost universally employed across the globe.

When language is that strong, it’s difficult to deny its potency.

Are we to take none of these thousands of thinkers, writers, professionals seriously?

Words change, evolve. They are at the mercy of the zeitgeist.

The word 'bard' meant one thing to a Saxon king, and something slightly more to a contemporary author of a paper on Shakespeare and politics.

Shakespeare, I think, withstands any unwelcome label or interpretation. He is "for all time;" the rest of us are not.

Some authors, of course, employ the tag 'the Bard' with a sense of irony, or tongue firmly in cheek.

Some apply it with unadulterated adoration.

Others use it to express, swiftly and efficiently, the point that the playwright is HUGE in world literature. Whatever each of these writer’s approach to or angle on Shakespeare may be, they are holding it up against that image, that Shakespeare is not ‘a’ bard, but THE Bard.

The definite article is everything.

Just a smattering of employment of the ‘B’ word:

Deeply renowned, respected, nay, adored Stephen Fry quizzed celebrities in a QI edition entitled The Immortal Bard. Would Stephen Fry himself employ such a tag? Perhaps the title was not his idea, perhaps it was that of the respected writer John Lloyd or the respected director Ian Lorimer. But as a phrase, particularly if spoken by Mr Fry, there is, I sense, a mischievous glint in the eye, a gentle placing of tongue in cheek, neither of which are at odds with his being a fan, serious-minded and a terrific speaker of Shakespeare’s words.

I suggest that ‘the Bard’ as a term has outgrown its origins and taken on a life and meaning of its own.

Whether we like it or not.

Sometimes, it’s just helpfully alliterative or linguistically fun. I hold my buffoon hands up: I have employed the 'B' word myself, as have these folks.

Some of these examples have links - just click on the relevant word to go and explore...

The Bard at The Bod

The Bard in Bombay

From Bard to Verse – BBC3 & British Universities Film and Video Council

Bard in the Botanics

The Bard, Brilliant and Black

Bowie and the Bard

Bard from the Barn - excellent lock-down inspired glimpses of Shakespeare

The Bawdy Bard

Bard for Life

The Bard and the Bible – a Shakespeare Devotional

Bard on the Beach

Bard-Watching

The Bard and the Bees

Bharat, Blighty & The Bard – my own little offering (with the actor Madhav Sharma) on Shakespeare and an actor’s life

When Shakespeare attends my fantasy dinner party, I will neither greet him with "Welcome, oh great Bard," nor will his place name read The Bard.

He is, to me, Shakespeare. Will.

But I understand the use of the tag, its instant communication.

Even as I know it is erroneous.

Don’t use the title if you abhor it.

But I think it’s possibly unwise, if playful, to condemn all who use ‘the Bard’ as unworthy of serious attention.

Some may be patronising, reductive, unintelligent buffoons.

Some might be thinking quite sensibly and seriously about what they are writing.

Some may just be having fun.

I don’t think we should toss them all onto a heap of contemptibility.

Here's a treat: click play for easily the classiest use of a rhyme with "the Bard from Stratford-on-Avon." (Gets going from 0.38 secs)

Context and intention are everything.

Some other nicknames for Shakespeare:

The sweet Swan of Avon (ridiculous)

The Warwickshire Lad (always quite liked this)

Sweet Will (Hmm…I think I hear him guffawing on his cloud)

David Garrick (in addition to lines quoted earlier) is also responsible for these adoring words:

“Sweetest bard that ever sung,

Nature's glory, Fancy’s child.”

and also

“The lad of all lads was a Warwickshire lad…The Wit of all wits, was a Warwickshire wit…the Man of all men, was a Warwickshire Man…Avon’s Swan”

Perhaps we can swap ‘The Bard’ for the title The Wit? The Man? The Swan?

Nope. I think not.

I suspect 'The Bard' is here to stay, rightly or wrongly.

Love it or hate it.

Buffoonery or serious intent.

And Shakespeare will rise above it.

After all, what’s in a name?

Other Bards

The National Bard – Robert Burns

The Bard of Bengal - Rabindranath Tagore

The Bard of Scarborough – Alan Ayckbourn

The Bard of Salford – John Cooper Clarke

The Bard of Barnsley – Ian McMillan

The Bard of Beer – Michael Walton

So, to Bard or not to Bard? Let me know what the zeitgeist is thinking...