Table of Contents

Shakespeare Goes Digital: Three Open Internet Editions

Andrew Murphy
University of St. Andrews

Comment Icon0 In 1853 J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps began issuing, through the publishers C. & J. Adlard, an extraordinarily elaborate edition of the works of Shakespeare. It ran to 16 volumes in oversized folio format and it was copiously illustrated. The edition was intended for a strictly limited market — just 150 copies were printed. The price also reflected the restricted readership that it was aimed at: 25 copies were issued with the illustrations on India paper, at 150 guineas per set; the remainder sold for 80 guineas per set. As the final volumes of the edition were starting to appear, in the mid-1860s, Halliwell-Phillipps began discussing a very different kind of Shakespeare project with Adlards. His idea was to strip his edition to its absolute bare bones in order to produce a popular text that would sell for just 1s, or .06% of the cost of the 80 guinea folio edition.[1]

Comment Icon0 Halliwell-Phillipps subsequently explained to the publisher John Camden Hotten what his vision for the shilling edition had been, observing that ‘One of the chief objects in the original design was the distribution of copies by employers amongst the working classes’.[2] The editor was motivated here by the progressive emergence of a working-class readership in the early to middle decades of the nineteenth century — a readership which, Halliwell-Phillipps sensed, might take to Shakespeare if the playwright’s works were made readily available, either at a low price, or, ideally, provided free of charge by paternalistic employers. His essential instinct was correct, even if his own project never came to fruition: by the end of the 1860s at least three publishers were issuing shilling editions of Shakespeare and the texts sold extraordinarily well. The era of ‘mass Shakespeare’ had well and truly arrived.

Comment Icon4 Halliwell-Phillipps’ double project anticipates, in interesting ways, developments in Shakespeare publishing from the end of the twentieth century, as the playwright’s text has moved from the page to the computer screen. When Thomas Nelson issued the Arden Shakespeare CD ROM in 1997, the initial (pre-sales tax) selling price was £2,500 in the UK and $3,995 in the US. A certain Prof Pyper at the University of St Andrews had, in the nineteenth century, managed to subscribe to Halliwell-Phillipps’ edition, but it seems highly unlikely that any academic of average means could ever have afforded to buy the electronic Arden. The same could be said of other early computer-based Shakespeare resources (such as Chadwyck-Healey’s Editions and Adaptations of Shakespeare) which were also priced well beyond the budget of individual purchasers. But, just as Halliwell-Phillipps had a twin vision of, on the one hand, a highly elaborated package sold at the highest possible cost, and, on the other, a far more basic offering provided either at a minimal price or wholly free of charge, so too did the digital world split between high cost packages and cheap or, more commonly, free-to-access offerings. So, early in the 1990s, for example, the text of the plays had been rendered into a form which could be presented on screen, and this version of the text — the ‘Moby Shakespeare’ — was distributed through various websites, the most enduring being those established by Matty Farrow in Australia (http://www.it.usyd.edu.au/~matty/Shakespeare/index.html#list) and by Jeremy Hylton at MIT (http://shakespeare.mit.edu/).

Comment Icon2 The Moby text is based on the Globe Shakespeare, first published by Macmillan (in conjunction with Cambridge University Press) in 1864. The reasons for choosing this particular text would appear to be lost in the mists of prehistoric digital time. Copyright on the Globe edition had, of course, long since lapsed — an important consideration. It may simply have been happenstance that led the text’s creator to this particular copyright-free edition, but it remains an interesting choice, nonetheless, from a Shakespearean point of view. The Globe was, of course, itself part of a bifurcated publishing project. Alexander Macmillan commissioned William George Clark and William Aldis Wright (and John Glover) to produce a scholarly edition of the plays, the first to be created by university academics. Just 1,500 copies of the edition were printed, selling at 10s 6d per volume, with the total cost running to almost £5. The nine volume edition was subsequently reduced to a single volume, selling at just 3s 6d. Macmillan had intended the text specifically for the popular market and was rather chagrined to discover that, within a couple of years of the Globe’s appearance, it was competing against the 1s editions mentioned earlier. The Globe, however, held its own and served as the standard reference text for several decades, with many subsequent scholarly editions keying their referencing system to the Globe act, scene and line numbers.

Comment Icon4 In a way, then, it is fitting enough that, out of all readily available copyright-free texts, it should have been the Globe that emerged from the primal haze of the early digital world to serve as the standard Internet Shakespeare. And it persists today, not only in the (now rather primitive-feeling) Farrow and Hylton sites, but also in new offerings such as Eric M. Johnson’s Open Source Shakespeare (OSS; http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/). One of the key features of Farrow’s site was that it offered users a search function, making the business of tracking quotations and carrying out some basic concordancing tasks much easier than it had ever been before. Johnson has taken this idea and has built upon it very substantially, using the much greater range of programming tools now available to computer specialists. In general terms, the site is attractively laid out and operates intuitively. The plays are segmented by scene, but, by clicking on ‘Complete Play’, it is possible to access the whole text and to read it through simply by scrolling down. Johnson uses TLNs, with the numbers appearing after every five lines (including stage directions). In ‘Complete Play’ mode, the act and scene markers are relatively unobtrusive (which is to say, less obtrusive than in most print editions, but not as unobtrusive as those used in the Oxford Shakespeare). A nice feature of the site is that Johnson has created a version of the text presented as ‘The Bard for the tiny screens’, intended for use with mobile devices (http://mobile.opensourceshakespeare.org/). Even on a relatively cheap ‘phone handset this produces a perfectly readable text, though one would not, obviously, want to have to read all three parts of Henry VI in this way.

Comment Icon0 Where OSS really comes into its own is with the tools that Johnson has added to the text. Every single word is linked to a concordancing function. Doubleclicking on any word brings up a screen indicating how many times that word appears in the complete canon, with a link to a set of statistics about the word, including the number of instances by play, and a further link which produces a full set of all instances. Mary Cowden Clarke must surely be wonder-struck, somewhere out there in the ether. Clicking on a character name produces a complete set of lines for that character. This is useful for actors, of course, but Johnson offers an even more useful function: once you reach the character lines that have been ‘harvested’, clicking on ‘Show cue lines’ produces a full set of the character’s speeches together with, in each instance, the immediately preceding line of the text. The homepage of the site also includes tools for carrying out text search, concordance search and character search.

Comment Icon0 OSS includes a paper entitled ‘Open Source Shakespeare: An Experiment in Literary Technology’, which provides an account of the process of constructing the site. This is essentially a cutdown version of an MA thesis submitted by Johnson at George Mason University. It makes for interesting reading. Johnson indicates that much of the work on the site was undertaken while he was stationed in Kuwait as a Marines reservist during the most recent US invasion of Iraq — a piece of information that could make critics of a certain age nostalgic for the high days of Cultural Materialism. There are substantial sections on the history of the Globe text and on its modern digital incarnations. This material is solid, well informed and considered, particularly given that Johnson does not have a bibliographic background.

Comment Icon0 In ‘The Editing and Structure of the Open Source Shakespeare’ section of his paper, Johnson describes his seven stage working method, and then notes:

Comment Icon0 This procedure might seem very complex, and indeed it took many hours to perfect. However, the last fifteen or sixteen plays went very quickly, as it was just a question of repeating the same process over and over. I got to the point where I could finish one or two plays an hour, depending on how many discrepancies there were in the texts.

Comment Icon0 Johnson’s ‘one or two plays an hour’ might be contrasted with John Dover Wilson’s comments, as he drew to the end of his almost half-century long stint of editing the New Cambridge Shakespeare: ‘Two or three life-times are insufficient for the proper editing of Shakespeare, and I know it well enough. Had I lingered over Hamlet alone as long as I ought to have done, and should like to have done, I should still be at it.’[3] Of course, Johnson’s project and Dover Wilson’s are very different from each other, and here we get to the heart of the problem of any resource which has as its remit the business of taking the Globe (or any text of similar vintage), standardising it, and adding electronic functionalities: manipulating the text in this way may produce a useful resource, but, as it does not, of course, involve editing the text, the heart of the project will inevitably remain fundamentally (and often fatally) outdated. By way of comparison here, one might say that, while one probably could fit a Model T Ford with power steering, anti-lock brakes and airbags, it would still remain, in essence, a Model T Ford. The Globe was, indeed, a good text in its day — and Clark and Wright were fine scholars — but it predates the New Bibliography, not to mention the various important developments in textual thinking of more recent decades. To take just one small example of the problems with the Globe: Clark and Wright worked on their edition before W. W. Greg and William J. Neidig demonstrated that the Pavier Quartos were all published in 1619, despite the differing imprints provided on the titlepages of some of the texts. As far as the Globe editors were concerned, then, Nathaniel Butter’s King Lear of 1608 and Pavier’s 1619 Lear (with its title page falsely dated ‘1608′) were published in the same year. The editors thought — at least initially — that Pavier’s was the edition first published, and, therefore, the more authoritative. This confusion is written through Clark and Wright’s text of Lear. Problems of a similar nature arise with other plays in the canon, compounded by the fact that Clark and Wright had a tendency to favour eclectic editing methods, sometimes picking and choosing readings from different editions without consistently considering the question of what the exact authority of these texts might be.

Comment Icon4 Are the shortcomings of the Globe wholly fatal to the Open Source Shakespeare? Sadly, for scholars and serious students, the answer is likely to be ‘yes’. One might, of course, make the argument that the Globe was the text of Shakespeare for a very broad range of readers for at least a half century after its first release — and, as Margreta de Grazia has indicated, it was very much the dominant Shakespeare text of Britain’s high period of Victorian imperialist expansion, carried around the world in much the same way that Johnson carried it (electronically) to Iraq and Kuwait.[4] In this sense, OSS does provide an interesting reading text, if we view the Globe as a historical artefact. The trouble is that the concordancing tools — which are, after all, one of the central new resources offered by OSS — are the element of the package likely to be of most interest to scholars, and no scholar could really contemplate using these tools for serious research, when the dataset they are being applied to is almost 150 years out of date. Having said all of this, perhaps the most interesting thing about OSS is that, in terms of its structure and functionality, it provides a good model for how a site of this kind can (and should) work. It is, effectively, a ‘Web 2.0 ready’ site, in the sense that the materials are encoded in database form, rather than as page images — this is what enables OSS to offer a very high level of manipulation of the materials included on the site. Very generously, Johnson has made all of his resources freely available, and he expresses the ‘hope that other people will use the code and database as examples for their own work’. If the architecture of this site could be applied to a more up-to-date text, then scholars really would have a worthwhile resource at their disposal.

Comment Icon0 In a sense, this is the approach taken by David and Ben Crystal, in their Shakespeare’s Words website (SW; http://www.shakespeareswords.com/). At the heart of this package is the New Penguin Shakespeare, with J. M. Nosworthy’s Arden 2 Cymbeline and Giorgio Melchiori’s New Cambridge Edward III added, as neither of these had appeared in the New Penguin at the point when the project was initiated. The age of some of the texts is something of a problem here again: Nosworthy’s Cymbeline was first published more than a half century ago and some of the New Penguin texts are themselves rather old now (the earliest titles in the series date from 1967). Certainly this does raise some problems: to take the case of Lear again, G. K. Hunter’s 1972 edition of the play predates the intense engagement with the multiple text issue that marked the closing decades of the twentieth century. Hunter’s Lear thus offers, as was customary up to this time, a conflation of Q1 and F. But we have at least travelled some distance from the Globe edition with this package. As in the Open Source Shakespeare, SW segments the plays by scene, but here there is no option to access the whole play — one must move from one scene to the next by clicking the ‘next scene’ link at the bottom of the screen. By comparison with OSS’s use of TLNs, SW uses conventional act, scene and line number references, with the full reference being given against every single dialogue line (e.g., ‘Ham I.ii.244′). The light grey text used for these references means that they are not as obtrusive as they otherwise might be. A brief synopsis of each play is provided, together with a set of ‘character circles’ — simple diagrams which map out the relationships among the individual characters. The character circle for The Comedy of Errors is elegantly conceived and would certainly be a godsend to any student struggling to make sense of the play.

Comment Icon0 The look of the page is generally very clean, the text itself being displayed on a central white vertical band, with tabs above for ‘Dramatis Personae & Circles’ and ‘Play Synopsis’. On the right hand side of this band is a ‘definitions’ column, with a dark grey background. There is a ‘Hide definitions’ option, which removes the definitional material while, somewhat oddly, leaving the grey vertical band itself in place. The definitions themselves are the core of this package and the Crystals present here the rich fruits of their impressive ongoing research into Shakespeare’s language. Each word in the text thought to require explanation is clearly defined, generally by offering three related alternatives. Thus, ‘invention’, in the second line of the Chorus to Henry V, is glossed as follows: ‘invention (n.) 1 inventiveness, imagination, creative faculty’. Clicking on the word being defined brings up a list of other instances of its being used in the same sense elsewhere in the canon — in the case of ‘invention’, 17 hits (for an exact match) from seven different plays and from five different sonnets. A particularly helpful feature is that these individual hits, as displayed, include a few words of context, as, for example: ‘AYL IV.iii.35 [Rosalind as Ganymede to Silvius, of Phebe's letter to Ganymede] such giant rude invention’. Clicking on the line reference brings the user to the line in the playtext itself.

Comment Icon0 It is possible to gain direct access to the material that lies at the core of the package by going to the ‘Glossary’ section of the site. Here, all of the words for which definitions are provided are listed in alphabetical order. Clicking on any given word provides a complete list of all of the definitions associated with it. So, for example, ‘absolute’ is defined in 7 separate senses, ranging from ‘perfect, complete, incomparable’ to ‘curt, peremptory, blunt’. Again, clicking on a specific individual definition provides a list of instances of the word being used in that particular sense. Some Glossary entries only cross-reference to other entries. Thus, for example, ‘tail’, which might, one would have thought, have had its own separate entry (given that it is sometimes used as a sexual pun), simply crosslinks to ‘come cut and long tail’.

Comment Icon0 Because SW has been produced in collaboration with a commercial publisher, there is a certain amount of hard sell on the site. A ‘Buy the Book’ link directs users to Amazon, where they can purchase the book version of Shakespeare’s Words, and there are also links to purchase other publications by Ben and David Crystal. A Paypal link solicits contributions for the upkeep of the site, with any surplus funds generated rather nicely being pledged ‘to help theatre companies engaged in Shakespeare productions which receive no government subsidy.’ In fairness, however, Penguin and the Crystals are providing a lot of free material on this site and the central resources — including the Glossary and the text of the plays — are completely free of advertising of any sort, presenting the user with clean, uncluttered screens. Taken all in all, SW is an excellent resource: while some of the playtexts are indeed now rather dated, they do still present a high level of scholarship; the Glossary function is a scholarly and well conceived tool.

Comment Icon0 Neither the Crystals nor Eric Johnson are editors, so, as we have seen, other people’s texts sit at the heart of their websites. Their projects might be contrasted in this regard with the Internet Shakespeare Editions site (ISE; http://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/index.html), first conceived by Michael Best as far back as 1996, when he had ‘an ambitious vision: . . . to create a website with the aim of making scholarly, fully annotated texts of Shakespeare’s plays freely available in a form native to the medium of the Internet’. Best’s aim has been to provide facsimiles of all the earliest printings of the texts; searchable transcriptions of those texts (essentially diplomatic editions); modern, edited versions of each text; ancillary materials, primarily connected with the plays in performance; materials collected under the general category ‘Life and Times’; and a reference section. The intention is that all of the editions and transcriptions should be peer reviewed.

Comment Icon0 The supporting materials provided on the site are certainly useful. The Julius Caesar pages, for example, include a total of almost 100 performance records for the play, ranging from Georges Méliès’ five minute Shakespeare Writing Julius Caesar (1907), to a 2009 Victoria Shakespeare Society (Canada) performance of the play itself. Inevitably, there is, at times, a slightly arbitrary feel to this material. It seems odd, for instance, that two productions of Julius Caesar by Shakespeare on the Saskatchewan are logged here, but none by the Royal Shakespeare Company. Moving beyond the performance materials, things get patchier still. The Julius Caesar pages offer a collection of images relating to the play, but these are all derived from an early Charles and Mary Cowden Clarke edition. Doubtless more images will be added in time, but it is hard to see why this particular set of illustrations should be the first (and so far the only) one to be included. The problem here would seem to be that materials are not (yet) being collected in a coherent fashion — presumably what turns up on the site is a function of the interests and resources of individual editors (or, perhaps, the greater editorial team). It is clear that a more focussed approach, with clear goals, is needed. There may also be opportunities here for opening the site to the collection of materials through crowd-sourcing, filtered through the editorial mechanisms.

Comment Icon0 These materials are, of course, relatively peripheral: the heart of this project is the set of texts it provides. It is a little difficult to gain an overview of the exact current state of this aspect of the project just by looking at the site itself. Table 1 thus collates information from the individual text pages, to provide a snapshot of ISE as it stood at the beginning of 2010.
table
table2

Comment Icon0 The breakdown of materials that follows is based on the information in this table. As regards the facsimiles, for each Folio play the relevant pages of the Brandeis University and State Library of New South Wales copies of F1 have been incorporated into the site, as have the New South Wales copies of Ff2-4. As far as the texts with early quarto (or octavo) editions are concerned, facsimiles of at least one of the earliest editions have been provided for about half of the texts. Transcriptions have been included for all F1 texts, though 15 of them are presented without indication of who has compiled them, and 27 of the F1 transcriptions have yet to undergo a process of peer review. For texts with editions earlier than F1, transcriptions of at least one early text have been provided, though only 5 of these 31 transcriptions have been peer reviewed. Only 5 texts in total can be said (at the time of writing) to be fully complete: with all relevant facsimiles loaded, transcriptions prepared and peer reviewed, and a modern edition prepared and peer reviewed. These are: As You Like It (edited by David Bevington), Cymbeline (Jennifer Forsyth), Julius Caesar (John D. Cox), Venus and Adonis (Hardy M. Cook) and The Tempest (Brent Whitted). It is notable, of course, that all of the plays listed here first appeared in F1, and so have no associated early quarto texts — they are, in this sense, among the easier texts in the canon to edit and prepare. A modern edition of one further text — Romeo and Juliet, edited by Roger Apfelbaum — has also been produced and peer reviewed, though some of the transcription materials still await checking.

Comment Icon2 The modern editions are one of the most important elements of this project. Though only six modern texts are currently available, many of the other editors have already been appointed. There are rather more junior scholars on the list than might be typical of a high profile print edition, though this is not necessarily a bad thing in itself — and, certainly, the project as a whole is being overseen by an impressive board of senior scholars. The modern texts that are currently available are well conceived and well presented. As with OSS, plays can be loaded scene by scene, or in their entirety. Again, tlns are used here, with the numbers being provided every five lines, though it is slightly hard to see, from the texts themselves, what is and is not being counted as a line (possibly this may be a function of how the browser handles prose and partial lines). Two sets of tools are provided: annotations (basic or advanced) and collations. Annotated elements in the text are underlined and a single click brings up a text box with the annotation. The notes themselves primarily consist of brief explanatory glosses, though the longer annotations are helpful, as, for example, David Bevington’s 360 word note on ‘Robin Hood of England’ in 1.i of his As You Like It, which discusses, among other things, the source texts for the Robin Hood story.

Comment Icon0 One of the aspects of ISE that indicates the greatest potential of the project is the way in which textual variants are handled. In Bevington’s As You Like It, variants from more than 50 editions are registered, ranging from F1 to Michael Hattaway’s 2000 Cambridge edition. The different editions consulted are colour-coded and they can be accessed selectively: all variants can be displayed; an individual editor’s variants (including those introduced in ISE) can be displayed; any combination of editors can also be selected. It is a wonderfully powerful facility. Or, at least, it would be, if it were used consistently across the range of texts being offered. John D. Cox’s Julius Caesar offers variants for just F1, the 1691 quarto, Rowe, Steevens and Capell — a much more restricted set of texts than Bevington has consulted. Brent Whitted’s Tempest appears not to offer any collations at all.

Comment Icon0 These inconsistencies serve to highlight one of the core problems with ISE. It is a worthy project, but it is very much a work in progress. Using it is a bit like wandering around the Sagrada Familia — a fascinating structure, to be sure, but one despairs of ever seeing it in its finished form. In a sense, of course, there is nothing new in this. Michael Best and his team are attempting to create something that is, in fact, bigger than a standard print edition, and print editions themselves have never been built in a day: Arden 1 took 32 years to complete, the New Cambridge 45. There is a difference here, however: print editions have released individual texts when they have been in their finished state; with ISE whole sections of the site seem to be offered to users in a provisional state and, frustratingly, it is very hard to tell quite how complete any given element of the site is thought to be by Best and his team. In theory, texts included in the ‘Library’ have been fully reviewed, with an ‘Annex’ section being reserved for works that ‘have been carefully proofread, but have not yet had a full scholarly review’. In practice, however, all textual materials appear simply to have been loaded into the Library section of the site, regardless of their state of (in)completion.

Comment Icon0 Taking a broader view of these issues, it is important, of course, to recognise that, in a digital world, all texts are provisional — that is, after all, the great beauty of electronic textuality. But we still need to know whether, for example, Whitted’s Tempest and Cox’s Julius Caesar will at some point in the future eventually have the same wonderfully rich range of collations as Bevington’s text. Even the ‘Editorial Guidelines’ do not really answer this question, as they simply indicate that editors should ‘Collate subsequent editions of importance, particularly twentieth-century editions, whenever, but only when, a reading is offered which you deem worthy of serious consideration along with the one you yourself have chosen.’ Does Bevington’s text, by these lights, represent a particularly generous reading of the guidelines provided by the editorial board, or does his edition indicate a ‘gold standard’ that the other texts will eventually reach? It is very hard to answer this question on the basis of the materials provided on the site. For scholars and teachers, it is precisely the dynamic quality of online resources that makes it so important to have clear statements about the state of progress for a resource such as ISE.

Comment Icon0 Perhaps in the end, though, the moral of the story here may be that, as ever in life, you pay (or don’t pay) your money and you take your chance. In the nineteenth century 80 guineas bought you a sumptuous, limited edition, multi-volume Works of Shakespeare — a thing of real beauty, edited by one of the foremost Shakespeareans of the time. A shilling bought you the complete works in miniscule print, in a paper wrapper — essentially a disposable text, with no indication of who had carried out the editing (or of when the editing had been done). If you want free Shakespeare on the Internet, perhaps you have to put up with texts that are, similarly, somewhat unsatisfactory in one way or another, being (to a greater or lesser extent) out of date, uneven or incomplete. ISE has been supported by the University of Victoria and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, but it lacks the kind of financial resources that publishers have often, in the past, been willing to invest in large scale Shakespeare projects, such as when Oxford University Press employed Stanley Wells and Gary Taylor as full time editors for several years, as they worked to produce the Oxford Shakespeare. Lacking these resources, it is not hard to see why ISE feels so much like a slightly disorganised building site, and why relatively few texts have been brought to completion over the course of its existence.

Comment Icon2 Does this mean, then, that, if we want a fully useable electronic text of Shakespeare, we must wait for the latest incarnations of the big scholarly editions to be released in electronic form, probably having to pay for access to them (and hopefully paying a lot less than Thomas Nelson thought we should pay for electronic access to Arden 2)? For scholars, again, I think, the answer to this may well be ‘yes’. For the general public, less concerned with textual niceties, the response may be rather different, as it was in the nineteenth century, when vast numbers of the shilling Shakespeares were sold to general readers (it is notable, in this regard, that more than a million users have already connected to OSS, probably untroubled by the antiquated text that lies at its heart). It is important, however, not to lose sight of the real value of all three of the sites under review here. Johnson’s concordancing facility is excellent, as is the glossarial material included in Shakespeare’s Words — and we must bear in mind that neither Johnson nor the Crystals ever set out to provide a wholly up-to-date text. ISE offers us a vision of what editors can now do with the electronic text — providing scholars with something that really goes beyond the limits of the print edition. ISE’s best texts are very good indeed; the problem is that the site is developing slowly and unevenly, and not enough information is being provided to users on the current state of the individual segments of the project. The best elements of these three sites provide a nice indication of where new technologies can take us — and it is a world that even Halliwell-Phillipps, visionary pioneer though he undoubtedly was, could probably never even have dreamed of.

Comment Icon0 General comments on this critical review may be linked to this page.

  • [1] I have written about the 1853-65 edition in Shakespeare and Print: A History and Chronology of Shakespeare Publishing (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), pp. 201-2 and about Halliwell-Phillipps’ proposed 1s edition in Shakespeare for the People: Working-class Readers, 1800-1900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), pp. 82-3.
  • [2] Letter from Halliwell-Phillipps to John Camden Hotten, 26 August 1866, Edinburgh University Library ms L.O.A.115.
  • [3] Letter from Wilson to G. V. Smithers, 26 June 1956, National Library of Scotland, ms. 14324.
  • [4] See De Grazia, ‘The Question of the One and the Many: The Globe Shakespeare, the Complete “King Lear”, and the New Folger Library Shakespeare‘, SQ, 46:2 (1995): 245-51.
  • Murphy, Shakespeare Goes Digital

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    1. [...] the site, but I have written a long comment to the 25th paragraph of Andrew Murphy’s article, ‘Shakespeare goes digital’, outlining the advantages of our social media approach to Shakespeare in relation to the other [...]

    2. [...] Here, for those interested, is my response to Professor Andrew Murphy’s article in the Shakespeare Quarterly: [...]

    3. [...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Wynken de Worde. Wynken de Worde said: @colinclout12 Btw, if you want to read abt online Shk, good article by Andrew Murphy for SQ in draft at http://bit.ly/aXOKYc [...]

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    4 Comments on paragraph 3

    1. I was lucky enough to be given access to the Arden CD-Rom when I was writing my Shakespeare’s Grammar, and it is a great resource.  It’s a shame Arden’s pricing policy was so daft.  The search function is of its time, as it has a list of stop words which can’t be searched for as they are too frequent, but I assume this could easily be changed.  i don’t know who has the copyright to this now after Arden’s journeys through capitalism, but it still offers the easiest way to compare edited, Q and F texts simultaneously on a single screen.

      1. I agree that it was a really good package, though the pricing structure was just daft. I reviewed it at the time and I remember their insisting that I return the review copy — as if they would lose a sale by allowing me to keep it! As you say, I wonder what’s happened to it since.

    2. I quite like the use of the history of Shakespeare publishing here to contextualize the present. It’s a healthy counter-balance to the pervasive notion that the most important things about digital resources are their exceptional qualities, as the Landow school of hypertext theory tended to emphasize at the expense of the continuities. There’s much to learn from Shakespeare publishing in the machine-press era, in particular. (Steam-punk Shakespeare, if you will).

      1. Yes: it is interesting to see how versions of the same issues emerge in both the print and the digital worlds. The cost of Shakespeare editions (and, indeed, other books) was kept artificially high into the early decades of the C19th, in part because that was the model that publishers chose to follow: high profit margins & small sales (not unlike university presses today, of course). Industrialisation and expanding literacy prompted publishers to think of switching over to a different model: small profit margins & large sales. It seems to me that the Arden CD (and other early digital projects) were, essentially, following the old publishing model: let’s price this extravagantly high and reap our profits from a small number of institutions, rather than from individuals. In a way, of course, their thinking was understandable: you can go on selling a book for decades, but computer technology changes so rapidly than anything you put on the market today is likely to look and feel out of date in 5 years’ time (if not sooner). I noticed last night that my cheap mobile ‘phone has about 10 times the memory of my first computer . . .

    2 Comments on paragraph 4

    1. dianahenderson 4 May 2010 at 3.10 pm

      I’m really glad to see this discussion of the Moby source text, as I spend lots of time trying to clarify what is “cutting edge” about MIT Shakespeare projects–and what is (these days) not: people often confuse the Moby text site (understandably) with our current MIT digital projects.  It’s a great example of two very different ways of being valuable in the digital realm, and while I’ll always be glad and grateful for Jeremy Hylton’s work–true to the Open Source movement and broad populism here–I spend lots of time trying to explain to students why a newer scholarly edition sometimes is very important to consult!

      1. andrewmurphy 4 May 2010 at 3.29 pm

        Hi Diana,

        I agree with you entirely on this. I remember coming across Hylton’s text years ago and finding it valuable at the time but, of course, things have moved on very considerably since then. It’s really a piece of Internet history now — and good that it’s still around *as* a historical document. Most people should, I think, understand that what you’re all doing at MIT these days is light years away from such outmoded projects (granted that they were pathbreaking in their time).

        We’ve had some good exchanges on here about  editorial changes and the nature of the text as evidence (and how we might use it).

        I’ll be interested to see what new things you’re cooking up at MIT these days!

        Andy

    4 Comments on paragraph 5

    1. Hi Andrew – thanks for your comments on our essay.  I think you raise a lot of important questions about texts and availability in this piece, and I’l make some other comments later on.  As you note – we have been using a version of the OpenSource/Moby text (with some adaptation) – and there are all kinds of issues associated with that (for example, the version I have on my iPhone spells ‘judgment’ like that in most of the plays, but in Ed3 it is ‘judgement’ – so a simple search on ‘judgment’ would suggest that the word isn’t in Ed3).  There are also sometimes problems with line-breaks/punctuation marks stopping the search tool ‘finding’ a word.

      I thought I’d pick up on your comment about reading the Henry6 plays at the end of this paragraph – since I recently found myself on the Tokyo underground, fresh out of a 9.5 hour version of all three plays in Japanese, looking up the final act of 3H6 on my phone.  It was very good to be able to do that…

      1. That’s interesting, Jonathan. I think the useability of the text in a way depends on the device. I have a cheap Samsung phone and it was readable on it, but not for long stretches, I wouldn’t think. I’m sure something like an iPhone or iPod Touch would work much better. And a great convenience, as you say, to be able to access the text so easily.

        1. I share your reservations, Andrew, about the OSS’s treatment of the text, but for what it’s worth the site looks great on an iPad. Rapid-response design makes a difference these days, and I give Eric Johnson credit for that. On that note, one aspect of these three projects worth comparing is their degree of progress relative to the resources available to them. Textual problems aside, the OSS is all the more impressive when we consider it began life as a Master’s thesis. It goes to show that large-scale, lavishly funded projects aren’t the only way to get things done.

    2. Yes: I do agree with you, Alan, that OSS *is* impressive — I hope I’ve managed to convey a sense of what’s positive about it, even though I also criticise it, from a textual point of view. Interesting what you say about using the text on an iPad. This is something for which the iPad *does* make sense.

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    1. I wonder about this claim of fatality – yes there are problems with the Globe/OS text (see my previous comment) – but how much do they affect study of the plays?  We’ve been through an exhilarating few decades of detailed textual study, which has foregrounded close attention to small changes which can be claimed to alter our views of texts – but certainly for iterative criticism the differences between the Globe and a modern text are likely to be very small.  As we say in our paper, one big difference between iterative work, and traditional criticism, is getting used to the notion that the evidence used is highly frequent – and therefore pretty robust.

      It sounds scandalous (and it goes against all my training, which was in the white-heat of the Shakespeare-as-reviser days) but I suspect it really doesn’t matter too much which text you use if you are counting large numbers of frequently occurring items.

      It is a bit of a tangent to the discussion here, but I think it is arguable that modern editing has fetishised small changes (and working with editors on linguistic issues as I do, I know there is an attraction for modern editors in coming up with ‘new’ readings that differentiate their texts from those of their predecessors) at the expense of paraphrase and explanation (which is arguably what readers actually need).  

      You say that the data set (the Moby text) is 150 years out of date – but that’s implying that we’ve had 150 years of texts getting better since it was published.  We’ve had 150 years of texts getting different – but I’m not sure the differences are (a) necessarily improvements; or (b) statistically significant.

      It would be an interesting side-project for someone to compare ‘different’ texts of Shakespeare, since we could come up with a mathematical measure of exactly how ‘different’ various texts were (I can see publishers vying with each other to have the texts with the greatest index of difference…)

      1. That’s a fascinating comment, Jonathan and it has really set me thinking. You make a great point here about what is statistically, rather than textually, significant. We might think of, say, the Wells & Taylor Oxford as being, textually, very radical, but the logic of your position is that, if we fed it through a process of statistical analysis, we might find that the difference between it and, say, the Globe, is actually quite small. And, of course, someone like yourself, who can do Proper Big Sums, might be able to demonstrate that the difference is so small as to lack significance, statistically.

        Let me take up your point about ‘150 years of improvement’ or ‘150 years of difference’. I think there are a few points to be made here:

        1. To what extent do the rules of ’statistical insignificance’ really apply in this area? Let’s say, for argument sake, that we discovered . . . I don’t know, that half of Ophelia’s speeches should actually be assigned to Gertrude. Statistically, that would be a very small change in the text as a whole, but it might radically alter the way in which we read the text, no? Statistical norms work convincingly in broadly scientific research (or in things, topically, like opinion polls), but they probably work less well in literary work.

        2. Yes: we’ve had 150 years of difference, and some of the differences haven’t endured. So, for example, McKerrow and the New Bibliographers had a high degree of faith in their ability to tell the difference between ‘foul papers’ and ‘prompt books’ and a lot of changes have been introduced into the text on that basis. But Werstine and Long have called those very categories into question. The same, of course, is true of Memorial Reconstruction, Hand D and various other discoveries of the New Bibliographers.

        However, there have been discoveries that are incontrovertible and that have stood the test of time. The example that I give in the review is a good one I think: the Pavier quartos were all published in 1619, and not on the various false dates given on some of their title pages. And this makes a difference.

        It doesn’t help your work of course, given the kind of information processing that you are doing, but you may have seen that I’ve suggested to James Harriman-Smith of Open Shakespeare that one solution to the Globe problem might be effectively to crowd source textual annotations which would provide a sense of how the Globe would look now, in the wake of the textual discoveries that have been made since Clark and Wright’s day. I suspect that textually-minded scholars would be happier with a text of that kind, rather than a straight offering of the Globe.

        What I really like about your comment, though, is that it prompts us to think about what we mean by ‘difference’. As you say: an editor might trumpet the fact that his/her edition offers the latest, greatest, most up-to-date text, but, unless we are talking about something like revisionism, how much difference are we seeing, in real, measurable terms? And also, of course, headline-grabbing changes like revisionism, new Shakespeare poems, etc., tend not to stand the test of time anyway.
        Andy

        1. Andrew and Jonathan, your comments here represent the crux of what I think is a huge question for digital humanities generally, not just Shakespeareans: can we take texts and corpora that are just “good enough” and call them our data set? Lots of data-mining projects in the humanities are doing exactly that, and have been for decades. I come in on the “no” side — certainly in the case of the Moby — but what’s more interesting about the question is that both sides of the argument make points that can’t be ignored. Martin’s insightful comments on my piece are a good example. He and I begin from differing premises, and neither is likely to persuade the other — I’d be kind of disappointed if we did — but what matters is having the debate rather than avoiding these kinds of thorny questions. For example, Jonathan’s question is a good one: given that editors do tend to wrangle about splitting the ninth part of a hair, have we fetishized textual change? His word “fetish” is apt, since it points to substitution: are we avoiding something when we focus on the instability of texts?

          On the other hand, to say it doesn’t matter which text we use (Martin’s “Nameless Shakespeare” argument) also strikes me as the fetishizing of simplicity — using the term “data” to paint over the aspects of texts that aren’t computationally tractable, so that we can promote the complexity of our computational methods instead. (David Golumbia’s got a fascinating new book on what he calls “computationalism” — written by a programmer, too.)

          To say that the choice of texts doesn’t matter also risks the fallacy of reasoning from conclusions, in that if the texts did matter, it would mean text analysis scholars have a lot more work ahead of them than they might like. Not everyone working in that field commits this fallacy, but I think it motivates a lot of their resistance to the materialist argument. The materialists probably fall into their own version of this fallacy in some ways, too — it’s a very human response.

          As you point out, Andrew, evidence works differently in the humanities than in the quantitative social and natural sciences. The idea of statistical significance is valid in the sciences because one carbon atom is essentially the same as another; it’s usually context that makes the difference. By contrast, literary texts, metaphors, narratives, genre markers, etc. may have family resemblances (as Michael and Jonathan’s  article elegantly demonstrates) but we tend to value them for their particularity. It’s not so much a sonnet as this sonnet. (One might invoke the type/token distinction from linguistics in opposition here, but I’ve read too many Random Cloud articles to be able to think of texts as tokens which matter only in their connection to abstract types.) As Anthony Appiah once said, for the humanities the universal is in the service of the particular. Whatever some may claim for Shakespeare’s universality, the act of choosing to analyze Shakespeare or any other canonical author is deeply particular. I think that’s why the choice of texts matters, and why your fatality argument about the Moby is valid.

          But dismissing statistical approaches isn’t valid, either, and we need ways forward. Jonathan and Michael’s article offers one very promising avenue, in that they use statistical methods not as ways of answering questions or verifying qualitative hypotheses — which would get us nowhere — but rather to ask questions and improve them. I see their approach as embracing hermeneutics rather than trying to replace it, as many older approaches in stylistics have done.

          Another way forward is to reframe the debate slightly, so that we’re not simply wrangling about which edited text is the most suitable for statistical analyses. Like Martin, I don’t see that debate leading anywhere useful, at least framed in those terms. Rather, the point of facing up to the Moby’s shortcomings is to bridge between formalist and historicist approaches (as others have been doing under the banner of historical formalism). Traditional textual critics would examine variants for the purpose of establishing what Shakespeare actually wrote. Fair enough, but I think Shakespeare’s mind is an unreachable destination. A better reason to talk about the histories of texts is McKenzie’s idea notion of sociology. Many agents, not just the author, are embedded in their histories, and it goes beyond which words editors have changed. It’s not a question of which text is the most authoritative, but whether or not computational approaches close the door on history. If the computationally tractable aspects of texts become the only kind of evidence that matters, we stand to lose a great deal. (There I go arguing from consequences… ;-)

          On that note, another way forward would then be a hybrid approach that enabled distant readings in combination with historical particularity. Michael and Jonathan’s paper hints at what this kind of hybrid approach looks like. I like Martin’s term “scalable reading” in his comments to their paper — it suggests an interpretive method that doesn’t require me to stop being “textually-minded” (as Andrew puts it) in order to use digital tools. Those of us on the Electronic New Variorum Shakespeare have been working toward such an approach in our visualizations, in which it’s the affordance of zooming in and out from the particular to the general that matters, not staying at one level exclusively (close or distant reading). There’s a lot more work to do, but it’s good that these questions be debated in the open, not swept aside as they’ve been so often in the past.

          1. Thanks so much for that very thoughtful and interesting set of observations, Alan. I’m really still thinking through some of the points you’ve made here.

            It’s very interesting to get your thoughts as someone who is involved in the electronic Variorum. I’d be keen to know, at some stage, how you feel the project might change the way in which we look at all of these issues.

            There are several problems. Scholars like Jonathan, of course, need some kind of stable, acceptable dataset that they can work from. Editors once believed that it would be possible to provide something like this. But, of course, it is an illusion: editions simply beget editions, and the beat goes on. Quite apart from the — absolutely spot on, in my view — point that you make about Shakespeare’s mind simply being an unreachable destination, there is also the problem that scholarship moves forward and today’s textual conclusions will fall out of favour tomorrow. Wells & Taylor’s Oxford edition was wonderfully provocative and sparked a great number of valuable and interesting debates, but many of its key textual propositions have not entirely stood the test of time.

            What electronic textuality should give us is the possibility of presenting texts that are productively flexible and texts that are adaptable to different kinds of work. This is, really, where we should ideally be headed with digital Shakespeare 2.0.

            Anyway: many thanks again, Alan.

            Andy

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    1. Thank you for work in reviewing the Shakespeare Quartos Archive. SQA was designed in part as a demonstration project to prototype an online digital humanities workspace, with a suite of commenting, collaborating, editing, and image manipulation tools. But the Archive also provides open access to source material outside of that user interface. Image files and xml and html transcriptions are openly linked from the homepage, and made available along with programs and scripts under Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial licenses. These terms of use are described on the Documentation page, while links to open-source “Tools for working with images and text” can be found at the Institutions & Links page. This bifurcation between content and interface helps realize another key aim of the project, which is to provide unconstrained access to high-resolution images and diplomatic transcriptions of early printed texts of Hamlet. “Portability of one’s own research material” is therefore in fact an apt phrase for describing the Shakespeare Quartos Archive. – Jim Kuhn, Head of Collection Information Services (Folger Shakespeare Library).

      1. I think this comment relates to Whitney’s review, not mine. Andy

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    1. I am a member of the Open Shakespeare Project (www.openshakespeare.org – not to be confused with Open Source Shakespeare) and found this article extremely interesting. I feel that your conclusion points towards many of the approaches to Shakespeare that our project incorporates, and that are part of a more ’social’ approach to Shakespeare.

      It occurs to me that as well as spreading Shakespeare to a far larger audience, cheap editions of Shakespeare are also a godsend for students, who may write their thoughts all over their pages without fear of ruining something expensive.  If all these scribbles were collected, a formidable body of knowledge of Shakespeare would be available, as would an evolving record of responses to this writer.

      Our site has recently acquired the ability for anyone to annotate Shakespeare’s works, and soon will add the capacity to attribute, tag, sort, and hide the annotations made. With this we hope to create an ‘open’ edition of Shakespeare’s plays that would grow along similar lines to Wikipedia, harnessing the power of the internet to bring many minds to bear upon a single subject.

      Such problems as found with the OSS still pose difficulties for us: we have to use Moby as a source text since all others, including (lamentably) the wordhoard text, are under copyrights that conflict with our Open license. Nevertheless, just as textual problems are flagged up in a critical edition with a footnote, so too could such problems be drawn to the reader’s attention through annotation. As Whitney Trettien’s article points out, the web comes into its own when it is an ‘expressive medium’ itself, and not one which, like the OSS, unthinkingly delivers content.

      Essentially, ISE already has this kind of thinking process, displaying an editor’s annotation on each text right down to the textual variants. It even has the ability to sort such annotations. However, the problems you identify – different kinds of editing, slow progress, uneven quality – all inevitably result, I feel, from the fact that each text only has a single editor. More editors would speed progress but it is not, of course, a given that more editors would improve quality. Wikipedia is still notorious for its occasional inaccuracies.

      Nevertheless, such inaccuracies can be resolved by the same process that generates them. If anyone can annotate, so anyone can also review annotation and improve it. I realise that this is a rather utopian position and that people can as easily vandalise as beautify, but I feel it to be a more tenable one than that held by the websites here. The internet allows for unprecedented levels of input as well as appreciation, and such potential is not exploited by the sites reviewed in this article. 

      Talking of input and appreciation brings me to one further aspect of these sites that interests me, namely how easily one can print from them. The OSS shines in this respect, but attempting to print an ISE fascimile is rather more difficult. I must also admit that printing from an annotated text at The Open Shakespeare Project is currently impossible: the tool only went live fairly recently, and the site is still very much under construction. One day we hope to harness the accumulated and peer-reviewed annotations of many to produce a printed text, and thus complete a cycle between internet and ‘real world’ Shakespeare. 

      Such a cycle is ignored at the peril of digital scholarship, for it is the mix of real events and online responses to them that makes Facebook so addictive. Other addictive qualities, such as the relatively small time commitment and the chance to interact with other users could be profitably replicated by internet Shakespeare projects. After all, anything capable of sustaining those involved in the long task of making productive use of Shakespeare is always welcome and need not be to the detriment academic rigour.

      1. James: thanks very much for this thoughtful and very interesting response to the review. I’ve had a quick look at your site and think it’s very interesting. It seems to me that you really are pushing forward with a Web 2.0 approach to things, making your site a good deal more interactive than the three I review here.

        I like the idea of building up a ‘database’ of annotations — and you’re right, of course: textual annotation might be a way round the problems of having to use an outdated source text. I still tend to worry about Wikipedia as a model, however. I always like to tell my students stories of humourous examples of deliberate tampering with Wikipedia, as a way of warning them off using it in their research (perhaps you may know what happened to Thierry Henry’s page, after France put Ireland out of the World Cup?).

        Will OSP be entirely ‘user governed’, or will you have some sort of ‘top down’ quality control mechanisms?

        Andy

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