Mythography

Reputable literature on Christopher Marlowe has lost some of its reputability for some time now. This does not mean that all these works are scientifically useless in their entirety. Nor do one’s own theses and speculations belong banned from science. It is just that they are hardly ever referred to as such any more and continue to displace fact-based research. It is no longer only fiction writers and playwrights who are

"[…] in the spirit of Genet, portray the homosexual outsider, challenger of convention, and opponent of a dehumanizing orthodoxy – a champion who all feel rebellious can applaud. In doing so, these authors probably wrest history to suit their own ends by portraying the Elizabethan backstage world as a hotbed of sexual laissez-faire and experimental lifestyles."1

Biographies of Christopher Marlowe have become mythographies.2 Own conclusions are presented as compelling necessities or facts. A method J. A. Downie called "‘must-have’ theory of biography"3. Unfortunately, these mythographies have enormous appeal and the Marlowe they construct sells much better.4 The social high-flyer with the characteristic hairstyle from the Cambridge portrait, a free spirit brave as Tamburlaine, cunning as Barabas, tragic as Faustus, who defended his atheism in the School of Night, courageously stood up for same-sex love, a resourceful spy involved in all kinds of intrigues, who found time to celebrate success as a playwright – this is the stuff of bestsellers, movies and PTV series. The son of a cobbler, with a scholarship to Cambridge, whose name appears in a few files, who wrote plays to earn money, which hardly anyone associated with his person, but whose poetry, on the other hand, was appreciated by his contemporaries, and of whom we know neither what he looked like nor with whom he socialised privately, what his views were and what his emotional life was like, cannot compete with this, but this is the stuff of science.

This is a list of the most popular Christopher Marlowe myths. There is a separate poste for some of them, so they are only briefly dealt with here.

There exists a portrait of Christopher Marlowe.

There may be one hanging somewhere, but no one knows about it yet. There are two portraits that are claimed to show Marlowe. The more famous is the Cambridge portrait, the other is the Grafton portrait. They each show a young man who was Marlowe’s age at the time. Otherwise, the only thing they have in common is that one could not identify who they represent. We haven’t the faintest idea what Marlowe looked like.

Christopher Marlowe was a member of the School of Night.

No. This alleged union of free spirits has never existed. The School of Night is an invention that was popular in the first half of the 20th century.

Christopher Marlowe was a spy.

England already had a fairly effective secret service at that time, but it was not what is commonly thought of today. There are two documents that could be interpreted to mean that Marlowe worked for it. If this was the case, they were probably rather banal assignments and Marlowe was probably not very successful as a secret agent, after all, his activities were not secret.

Christopher Marlowe was an atheist.

In today’s sense, this is clearly not true. The Elizabethans, however, had a completely different understanding of atheism. Viewed from the late 16th century, one might find signs of this in Marlowe’s works. From the reactions after his death, it can be deduced that he had a disreputable reputation among some of his contemporaries. However, this says nothing about his actual attitude to faith. That is unknown to us.

Christopher Marlowe was homosexual.

Just as atheism was defined differently at the end of the 16th century, the same applies to homosexuality, although this is a much more complex matter. At that time, there was not even such a thing as an idea of a homosexual minority, which was perhaps also still struggling for acceptance. Words and behaviours that we would associate with homosexuality today meant something completely different back then. To date, no writing has emerged that gives us a reliable indication of Marlowe’s intimate life. Shortly after his death, however, a rumour arose that his relationship with a woman had led to his murder.

Marlowe’s plays tell us something about the person Christopher Marlowe.

No. Marlowe was not Lord Byron. The Elizabethans were not the prototypes of the English Romantics, even if they liked to be regarded as such in late Victorianism. Around 1590, writing was not a process of self-discovery, dramas had a much lower status than poetry, the right to one’s own work in today’s form was unknown and individualism had nowhere near the importance we now attach to it.5 But if we look at some of the other playwrights of the period, perhaps biographism was more prevalent than assumed. Hieronimo bites off his tongue so that he cannot reveal anything under torture. Accordingly, the author of The Spanish Tragedy would have to do the same in a similar situation, but Thomas Kyd has failed miserably in this respect. Marlowe wrote a history of Edward II, so he loved men. In The Merchant of Venice, Bassanio’s love for Antonio is valued above that for his wife Portia, but William Shakespeare was not homosexual. Pandosto tries to kill his daughter and later falls in love with her, but Robert Greene is not accused of infanticide, incest or paedophilia. Marlowe has Faustus summon the devil, so he was an atheist. (Which in itself is nonsense, because Satanists are certainly not atheists. After all, they pay homage to God’s antagonist. If they did not believe in the existence of God, there would be no adversary either) Fitzdottrel takes on a devil as a servant in The Devil Is an Ass, but Ben Jonson was no atheist. Nor was such a thing ever said about John Ford, although Elizabeth Sawyer sells her soul to the devil in The Witch of Edmonton. A look into John Webster’s tragedies gives hope for his family that he had no similarities with his characters. Marlowe’s plays tell us a lot, just not about himself.

"Christopher Marlowe never had problems with the Revels Office. He was certainly the most radical and unconventional dramatist of the Elizabethan era, and his plays showed scant respect for the established orthodoxy of his day. […] Yet all of this found its way on to the stage and eventually into print, with no apparent hindrance from Tilney or the Bishops' censors."6

As far as can be determined, the licensing authorities and censors dealt with Shakespeare’s texts in the same way as they did with Marlowe’s.7 There is nothing to indicate that Marlowe’s career as a playwright interested the Privy Council at all. Even after Marlowe’s death, nothing was done about the circulation of his works. On the contrary, they continued to be successfully performed and printed.8 If these dramas were indeed the manifestation of Marlowe’s atheism, heresy, homosexuality and subversion, then no one would know about them today, for they would never have reached the stage or a printing press.

Christopher Marlowe was a violent man.

From today’s perspective, the majority of people in 16th century Europe were violent, so his behaviour was by no means conspicuous when compared to that of his contemporaries. Nevertheless, Marlowe’s court records are readily used to confirm his ruthless character.9 There are documents that indicate that Marlowe twice failed to pay his debts.10 This is not to say that he was always in financial trouble and a defaulter on principle. Just like today, five hundred years ago only actions and events that deviated from the norm were documented. To derive a general pattern of behaviour based on a few records is a very simplistic generalisation.

Christopher Marlowe died in a tavern brawl.

No. Christopher Marlowe died in Deptford at the home of Eleanor Bull, a respectable lady with connections to the Court. After her husband’s death, she offered board and lodging for a fee, similar to today’s Bed & Breakfast.


Dutton, Richard. 1991. Mastering the Revels. London: Palgrave MacMillan. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-09879-8.
———. 2000. Licensing, Censorship and Authorship in Early Modern England. London: Palgrave MacMillan. https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230598713.
Masten, Jeffrey. 1997. “Playwrighting: Authorship and Collaboration.” In A New History of Early English Drama, edited by John D. Cox, 357–82. New York: Columbia University Press.

  1. Tucker (1995), 121↩︎
  2. Erne (2005)↩︎
  3. Downie (2007)↩︎
  4. Erne (2005)↩︎
  5. Masten (1997)↩︎
  6. Dutton (1991), 87 u. 88↩︎
  7. Dutton (2000)↩︎
  8. Dutton (1991)↩︎
  9. Kendall (2003); Honan (2005)↩︎
  10. Mateer (2008)↩︎

Aktualisiert am 27.09.2024

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