Transposed into the early twentieth century, a nonentity named Shakespeare rails against poverty, mediocrity, and misunderstanding, in forgotten modernist Philip Owens’s brilliant, one-of-a-kind satire. Every year, there’s a new crop of sad, dirty poet boys coming up to the city without a penny to their names. In six months’ time, who on earth will remember these nobodies, with their so-called blank verse and their extravagant plots—this Marlowe, Kyd, and Will “Shakespere”? (A pseudonym, surely!)Better that they write thrillers, or advertising copy, or speeches for the media baron John Falstaff, who looks to be running for office.
