Here’s one for all you Oxfordians out there:
Consider this bit from the Richard Wilhelm translation of Confucius’ commentary on the moving lines of I Ching:
Six in the third place means:
The third SIX, divided, shows its subject keeping in the old place assigned for his support, and firmly correct. Perilous as the position is, there will be good fortune in the end. Should he perchance engage in the king’s business, he will not (claim the merit of) achievement.
One of the favorite criticisms leveled by Stratfordians is political in nature – an argument about the ethics of questioning the authorship of THE WORKS, rather than an argument made from this or that bit of historical evidence. It’s a muted sense of outrage, pitched in the tenor of a democratic age. To wit: to deny that William of Stratford was the AUTHOR is to denigrate the Infinite Genius of the Common Man. Who is to say that a MAN (or a WOMAN for that matter!!!) must be educated in order to know so many ways of the world so well? Why, that’s aristocratic knavery, that is!
The Hermetic Hamleticist looks on the world through rarer eyes. Where they see an offense against the Infinite Genius of the Common Man, S/He sees hidden nobility, willing to engage faithfully in the king’s business without the prospect of reward. In this scheme, the true AUTHOR is like Washington, turning his back on the throne he himself set up, by devotion to the point of death.
There, then, are the opposing divinities: the Common Man of Infinite Genius versus the Cincinnatus of the Theater, who won an empire with his words but walked away from Fame so completely that his name is not even remembered.
Give me that man
That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him
In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.
More fascinating still is the way these opposing sacred images constitute two ways of saying the same thing. The Hidden Author is the Infinite Genius. At issue, is how to reach that Genius, and bring it back here.