William W. E. Slights. Ben Jonson and the Art of Secrecy. Toronto, Buffalo and London: University of Toronto Press. ix + 241pp. ISBN 0-8020-0462-8. £32.50 / $56.00.

  1. This is a book enterprisingly in two modes. On the one hand it draws some of its inspiration from post-Foucauldian theory on secrecy, of the kinds deployed by Jonathan Goldberg (on the arcana imperii, or secrets of government, in James I and the Politics of Literature, 1983) and Richard Burt (on differing modes of suppressed discourse in Licensed by Authority: Ben Jonson and the Discourses of Censorship, 1993). So it taps into questions of subjectivity, surveillance and the practices of power which have been very much on the agenda of modern Jonson scholarship, though it was written too late to take on board John Archer's major contribution to this debate, Sovereignty and Intelligence: Spying and Court Culture in English Renaissance Writing, 1993.

  2. At the same time, however, what it primarily offers, after a brief thematic introduction on 'Secret Places in Renaissance Drama', is a chronologically-arranged analysis of the six plays Jonson wrote between Sejanus (1603) and Bartholomew Fair (1614), to each of which a chapter-length reading is devoted. That is, we have a very traditional emphasis on what remain the most canonically central of Jonson's texts, discussed - despite the new focus of attention - in what is essentially a traditional critical manner. Slights foreshadows this mingling of old and new in establishing his theme:

    the tension between concealment and revelation affords a model for the poise that sustained Ben Jonson in the intricately linked worlds of royal court and commercial theatre during the middle years of his career and that made him such a pivotal figure in the cultural history of early modern England. (3)

    In reality, however, cultural history plays a smaller role in the narrative that unfolds than does a rather more familiar Jonsonian theme:

    His plots variously deal with conspiracies to commit fraud, murder, and treason, but all his conspirators trade in a single commodity: misinterpretation, that is, failures of the critical faculty. (12)

    But I do not mean to suggest that the readings which follow are themselves familiar. They may not play post-modernist games, but they subject Jonson's best-known plays to new and revealing scrutinies.

  3. Volpone, for instance, is read in the light of the Gunpowder Plot, Jonson's known involvement in its aftermath, and more generally the spy-ridden repression of Catholicism that followed. It is by now fairly conventional to see Politic Would-Be's 'statecraft' in this context, but Slights opens up the perspective to include all the plotting and counter-plotting that surrounds Volpone's 'deathbed' in a world obsessed with secrets and their manipulation - a world to which the audience, crucially, is party. And this enables him to stamp very firmly on Empson and all those who have, however grudgingly, found something to admire in the skill with which Volpone and Mosca execute their intensely theatrical plots: 'Far from glamourizing what Pico called "our chameleon," Jonson makes self-transforming conspiracy the chief butt of his satire'. (75)

  4. Once secrecy and conspiracy are opened up to contain what we might once have called roguery and coney-catching (as well, in the tragedies, as actual political machination) it will be apparent how Slights might pursue a theme which proves to be all-embracing:

    For Jonson the art of secrecy provided a resilient set of plot conventions for both intrigue comedies and political tragedies. Second, it opened the way to represent two prominent secret societies of his day - the court and the city of London - to themselves, sometimes with considerable danger to himself. Finally, it allowed him to offer a blistering critique of the art of reading, or rather misreading texts - that is, of penetrating good sense to arrive at bad. (177)

    This is an acute and perceptive formulation, if at times perhaps a little too all-inclusive for its own good. It is appropriate that it generates some of Slights's most searching questions in respect of Epicoene, a play about which he wrote one of the finest of New Critical responses to Jonson ('Epicoene and the Prose Paradox', 1970):

    Truewit's travesty of a communally sanctioned process of mediation, conciliation, and punishment raises some troubling questions. For example, should the author of a theatrical jest conceal his object so thoroughly from his comic butts and his audience? Is a dramaturgical art that itself turns on secrecy a suitable instrument for exposing the mystifications that are so boggling English society in its newly generated enthusiasm for private selves, personal relations, and private spaces? (90)

    This seems to me another very useful way of asking what has become one of the most central of current questions about Jonson, that 'pivotal figure in the cultural history of early modern England': to what extent is his art itself a symptom of the very tensions in society it depicts? It is a particular strength of this book that it poses the question so accessibly and in ways that keep reminding us that, however important these plays are as social documents, they are also great drama.

RICHARD DUTTON
LANCASTER UNIVERSITY

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Contents © Copyright Richard Dutton 1997.
Format © Copyright Renaissance Forum 1997. ISSN 1362-1149. Volume 2, Number 1, Spring 1997.
Technical Editor: Andrew Butler. Updated 11 September 1997.