67 pages • 2 hours read
Gary L. BlackwoodA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
After realizing that Julian is a girl, Nick storms out of the fencing practice, saying, “I’ve been fencing with a girl for most of a year, and never knew it!” (161). It is discovered that Julian’s given name is Julia. After her injury is bandaged by Mr. Phillips’s wife, Julia refuses to go home and miss the evening performance, stating, “I have never yet missed a performance, and I do not intend to miss this one” (162).
As the time for the evening performance approaches, Nick has still not returned, so Mr. Heminges sends Widge and Sander out to search for Nick in the ale houses. When they find Nick, Sander accidentally mentions the morning’s fencing incident, and another patron of the ale house overhears. The patron remarks, “Don’t tell me you’ve taken to fighting women, Nick” (165). This remark precipitates a fight between Nick and the other patron, and Nick is stabbed in the throat.
Chapter 22 opens with Widge, assuming that Nick is dead, beating the ale house patron with a stool. Widge then attempts to bandage Nick’s wound, stopping the flow of blood until Nick is taken to a hospital by the authorities. When Sander asks Widge why he intervened, Widge says that Nick is “a part of the family” and would have done the same for him (168).
With Nick in recovery, the company is now down another player for their upcoming Whitehall performance. Although Julia participated in a few performances after her secret was revealed, she is forbidden from performing at Whitehall. Widge explains this double standard, stating, “Even if we could have carried the deceit off successfully at the Globe, we dared not risk it under the very nose of the queen” (174). Julia stays on to assist the players backstage, and she offers to help Widge practice the role of Ophelia when Mr. Heminges reassigns it to him.
Widge continues to prepare for the Whitehall performance. Julia coaches him on her old role and helps him practice his lines. Though Julia tries to be chipper, Widge knows that she is distraught about losing her part. He resolves to put everything he can into his performance in order to make her proud. On the night of the dress rehearsal, however, everything that can go wrong seems to. He bumps into other players, bumbles around the stage, and forgets his lines. Widge is discouraged, but Mr. Armin assures him that “a bad rehearsal means a good performance” (178). Sure enough, on the night of the real performance, everything goes well for the company.
When Widge meets the queen after the performance, she questions what type of name “Widge” is. He explains that it is “a sort of nickname” (182). When the queen inquires after his given name, he tells her that he does not know it. She replies, “Well, Widge, if you go on performing as admirably as you did for us, you’ll make a name for yourself” (182). Inspired by this conversation, Widge decides to adopt the name “Pedringano” (182).
This chapter opens with Mr. Heminges offering Julia a job as ticket-seller at one of the theatre entrances. Julia “behaved as though she’d been offered a job as a dung collector” and declined the position (184). However, realizing that she must make a living somehow now that she cannot act on the stage, Julia finally accepts the job but quits after one week. Mr. Phillips tells Widge that Julia “had disappeared sometime during the night, taking the few articles of women’s clothing that she owned, and leaving behind all her boy’s garb” (185).
With the company still short a player after the loss of Julia, Widge and Sander are again sent to find Nick, who has recovered from his stabbing. When the two boys locate Nick, he is sitting with Falconer in one of the ale houses. Widge slowly backs out of the tavern to avoid being spotted, but then he has to explain his behavior to Sander. He finally confides in Sander the real reason why he joined the Lord Chamberlain’s Men: to steal Hamlet. Sander keeps the information to himself for the time being. However, he makes it clear to Widge that they will have to let the rest of the company know since it seems apparent that Nick is now in collusion with Falconer as well.
The next day, as he finishes costuming in the tiring room, Widge notices that the property room door is closed. To give players easy access to props and other items, the standard protocol in the company is to leave the property room open during performances. Widge enters the room and discovers Nick stealing the playbook.
The theme of gender continues to be central in the story. Deeply offended that he has been practicing his fencing with a girl, Nick deserts the company to drink at an ale house. Later, he gets into a deadly fight over the same topic. Though contemporary readers might expect the text to celebrate Julia’s cleverness, she is instead punished for her deception and for being a woman. She is continually denied the opportunity to act, and she is eventually relegated to selling tickets to the very shows she desperately wants to be a part of. Consequently, she leaves the company without so much as a goodbye.
The text’s overall treatment of Julia’s decision to pretend to be a boy raises questions about contemporary understandings of gender. In Elizabethan England, it was perfectly acceptable for men to don dresses and makeup for the stage because women were forbidden by law to become players. The theatre, though considered respectable enough entertainment for the queen herself to request a royal staging, was still considered an immoral place for women to perform. Women were allowed to participate in other aspects of theatre life, like costuming or cooking for the male players, but being on stage was forbidden. The text makes readers question whether this is fair. When the players thought Julian was a boy, they believed he was an up-and-coming star. They no longer believe this when Julian’s real gender is discovered. The only difference between Julia and Julian is gender, but that small difference completely changes the trajectory of Julia’s career.
Additionally, the reader gleans greater insight into Widge’s character through his response to Julia’s secret. For instance, Widge attempts to empathize with Julia, stating, “I tried to imagine how Julia must have felt, guarding her secret for years, wanting so badly to belong to the company of players that she would risk such a desperate device,” but he then he continues, “yet, because of that very device, never being able to truly belong” (163). Widge conflates his situation with Julia’s; he muses on how he has also never felt that he belonged. This attempt at understanding, however, falls short in light of the structural and societal inequalities that prevent Julia from being on the stage. Despite his tough upbringing, Widge still has much more privilege and autonomy than Julia by virtue of him being an English male. After all, Widge takes over Julia’s role in a play once her gender is revealed despite having little acting experience.
With statements, such as “I had to remind myself this was no boy made up to resemble a girl, but the actual thing,” the text reveals its bias toward a particular understanding of how a girl should look and behave (172). In many ways, The Shakespeare Stealer is a product of its time. It is necessary to consider the historical context in which the story takes place as well as the publication date of the book itself—1998. While feminism was a prominent movement in the 1990s, it lacked the traction and social consciousness of today’s movements. Additionally, queer issues—as manifested in the text through Julia’s use of drag—had yet to reach the public’s consciousness. At this time, very few examples of queer identity existed in popular media, and the military’s Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy would not be repealed for over a decade. When approaching this text, it is important to consider how it captures a particular social moment in both Elizabethan England and the United States.
By Gary L. Blackwood