“So, she pulls out this book…” The way my friend turns on his barstool and smiles tells me this is going to be something good.
We’re sitting at a quiet bar, chatting about his latest acting gig—Much Ado About Nothing. The ‘she’ in question is the director, and the book is Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare. Being well aware of my proclivities, he assumed I would want to know that Isaac Asimov once wrote a two-volume handbook to understanding each and every single one of the Bard’s plays (plus two of his poems), including plot summaries, fact-checks against historical events, definitions of outdated terms, and explanations of the jokes that don’t make as much sense after four centuries; in short, everything an obsessive word nerd could want as a companion to Shakespeare. I bought a copy online immediately and then ordered another beer.
While I had heard nothing about this book, the connection immediately seemed obvious. Of course the voracious Asimov decided one day that he wanted to get every reference in all of Shakespeare’s works, and of course he wrote his findings into a book so others could share his excitement.
When a writer writes about another writer, the reader can’t help but learn something about them both. As soon as I got my hands on the thing (both hands; it’s 800 pages) and cracked it open, the wry tone, the relatable language, the ridiculously broad and deep knowledge, the sheer Asimovness of the book was evident. So how does this master of sci-fi approach Shakespeare? From his introduction:
This is not to say that one cannot enjoy Shakespeare without knowing the historical, legendary, or mythological background to the events in his plays. There is still the great poetry and the deathless swing of his writing. —And yet, if we did know a little more of what that writing was about, would not the plays take on new dimension and lend us still greater enjoyment?
This is what it is in my mind to do in this book.
(Note to self: use the phrase ‘deathless swing’ as often as is viable.)
Buy the Book


Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare: A Guide to Understanding and Enjoying the Works of Shakespeare
As a person—like so many others—who digs SFF literature and Will’s plays, I’ve always leaned toward the magic stuff. I want fairy royalty. I want wizards on desert isles. And while Troilus and Cressida doesn’t actually include any of the Greek pantheon, it does have Odysseus. I hadn’t ever read it, so now armed with Asimov’s annotations, I gave it a shot.
His introductory summary of The Iliad floors me: “The episode… deals with a quarrel between two of the Greek leaders, with the near disaster that befalls the Greek cause as a result, and with the dramatic reconciliation that follows after all the participants have suffered tragic losses.” It’s as relatable as a Netflix blurb. Forget blurry-eyed reverence; nowhere is the god-like Homer sitting down to create a mighty epic, blind eyes staring to the Muse for guidance.
As he proceeds, Asimov lays out the history. Histories, I should say. The actual history of Troy as we understand it. The history of Homer himself. The history of different treatments and versions of the Trojan War, right up until recent times. After telling us that the first translation of Homer into English hadn’t been finished yet when Shakespeare wrote the play, he takes a canon-obsessed nerd’s joy in pointing out where the Bard gets it wrong. Mental images of red pen marks and tutting smiles abound.
If the ridiculously informative annotations on all of these aspects aren’t enough for you, how about Asimov’s theories that Shakespeare was referring to contemporary events? That a scandal about his patron’s faction in court crept into the depiction of Cressida? Asimov’s knowledge is recursive—the harder you look, the more detail you find.
We also see Asimov trying to get inside Shakespeare’s head, not from the standpoint of poetry, but of craft. At the end of the fourth act he maps out Shakespeare’s options for killing Troilus or not like an equation: “He must die. Troilus dies, in the Greek legends that deal with him, and of what dramatic value is it to survive under the conditions of the tragedy as outlined in this play?”
Conditions. Value. These are math terms. Problem-solving terms. Asimov is envisioning Shakespeare trying to work through the kind of problem any writer deals with: Do I kill him or not? What evokes the strongest feelings without being heavy-handed or trite? Just what the heck am I building toward here?
And that is part of the beauty of this book. It is not simply a delicious pre-hypertext nerd-fest. It’s about how to write.
Having sated my writer side with this reading, I asked the director, Buffalo theatre luminary Kyle LoConti, about how she has used the book in production. What does the book offer people actually staging the plays?
This was always my favorite source for ‘fun facts,’ maps, family trees and so on. While most of the information isn’t ‘actable,’ it does deepen the actors’ (and director’s and designers’) understanding of the universe of the play—as it would have been understood in Elizabethan England by Shakespeare and his audience.
Now that I am directing Shakespeare, I love learning all of this information to help place me in the universe of the play. Most resources give plot summaries, character breakdowns, thematic treatises and such. Asimov’s attack on understanding the canon is so refreshingly unique and so much fun for Bard-wonks like me.
(Note to self: use the term ‘Bard-wonk’ as often as is viable.)
I went to see the performance of Much Ado a week later, and of course prepped myself with old Isaac’s essay. It contains my favorite of his notes so far: when mopey Don John is described as being born under Saturn, Asimov provides the astrological context. “Saturn…is the slowest moving of the planets and is named for a particularly ancient god. Those born under his influence are therefore ‘saturnine,’ that is, grave, gloomy, and slow”.
Etymology, astronomy, astrology, and the history of mythology all in one sentence, without a whit of pedantry. Is there anything more Asimovian than that?
Top Image: Portrait of Isaac Asimov by Rowena Morrill; the Chandos Portrait of William Shakespeare.
Alex Livingston lives in an old house with his brilliant wife and a pile of aged video game systems. He writes speculative and interactive fiction, most recently the cyberpunk novella Glitch Rain. He’s on Twitter as @galaxyalex.
I have owned this for many years. It is a terrific resource, explaining the geography, history, and all those jokes and references which puzzle the modern audience, but which the Elizabethans would have “gotten” right away. A refreshingly fact-based, Asimovian look at Shakespeare.
The best part is that Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare was a follow-up to Asimov’s Guide to the Bible. He really did write about everything.
I never even heard of this, and now I INTENSELY NEED IT. Thank you!!
You need to take a trip to Cedar City Utah for the Utah Shakespearean Festival.
I used to own Asimov on Shakespeare and on the Bible. Great stuff. I learned a lot.
@@.-@ wiredog Would if I could…
He also did annotated editions of Byron’s Don Juan and Milton’s Paradise Lost.
I wonder if it reads anything like his Understanding Physics which absolutely changed me as a high schooler. The clear and easy way he lays out how we went from Aristotle’s natural philosophy to the A-bomb astonished me. After reading that, I changed where I though career was going. It influenced my college schooling, for the better.
And as I’ve been trying to get more into Shakespeare, I think this might be the next addition to my understanding.
He also did a great volume on the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. What an amazing person!
I found out about his Shakespeare book on Litsy (the best bookish app, feel free to follow me) and promptly bought a copy… which had one of the most unpleasant covers I’ve ever seen. Black, orange, and purple do not work well together.
Let’s not forget his annotated Gilbert and Sullivan
I recently published an essay examining Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare. It’s in Critical Insights: Isaac Asimov, edited by M. Keith Booker, and published in 2007 by Grey House Publishing, Inc. (pp. 224-38). Check it out! Asimov was one of my childhood favorites, and, as I got into Shakespeare, I was overjoyed when I first discovered the volumes. – Dan Venning, Union College
Edit: Critical Insights: Isaac Asimov was published 2017, not 2007. Sorry for the typo!
@9 @11. He also did a great volume on the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. What an amazing person!
Back in my more agile youth, I used to volunteer as a stage electrician for NYC’s Village Light Opera Group. Before my time, Isaac Asimov was a very active member, and used to MC the company’s shows (typically a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta in the fall and a Broadway musical in the Spring).
Then I hit the age when climbing up a ladder with a Leko to hang on the box booms seemed less and less appealing with each passing year.
I remember his funny short story where a scientist invents a time machine, use it to bring Shakespeare to the modern age, and enroll him to an university course about himself… The immortal bard”
Doggone it, now you’ve made me go and spend more money on books: not only was this OF COURSE a title I absolutely had to have as soon as I knew it existed, but then my online bookseller helpfully suggested another handful of the good doctor’s non-fiction works, which MAGICALLY lept into my shopping cart, all by themselves. (That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.)
Asimov’s boundless capacity for absorbing information and transforming it with insight, continues to astound, even so many years after his death. I can’t possibly even READ everything he managed to WRITE, within the space of one lifetime!
Kirth Girthsome @14: I had not known Asimov had been active with the Village Light Opera Group. How interesting. With the clue you provided, I found a 1989 New York Times review of an Americanized production, U.S.S. Pinafore. To quote:
‘Isaac Asimov writes new lyrics for ‘Pinafore’! William S. Gilbert turns in his grave!” screamed the advance publicity for the Village Light Opera Group’s production of ”U.S.S. Pinafore,” which opened over the weekend at the Fashion Institute of Technology.
[…]
In line with a production concept that places the action in the United States in the 1930’s, Mr. Asimov amended Gilbert’s lyrics for ”H.M.S. Pinafore” to replace British allusions with American ones. Thus, most obviously, ”He is an Englishman!” becomes -with surprising ease – ”He is American!” Mr. Asimov’s alterations were restrained (indeed, perhaps too discreet if vernacular American English was the goal), clever and unobtrusive except when the production italicized them.
Found this in a used bookstore about 15 years ago and bought it immediately. Went from “no knowledge of its existence” to “must possess and devour” in record time.
Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention! It sounds so awesome. Now to see if it exist in Spanish (since I share my books with my family)
I assign this book to students roughly once a year, every time I teach my college course on Shakespeare. Yes, there are other books that are more recognized (or more recently in print, or by scholars more associated with the field), but none of them has the impact on student understanding that Asimov has. Glad to see it getting some love.
Now, bubleh, go find yourself a copy of Asimov’s Annotated Gilbert and Sullivan. You will be glad you did.
You should try his guide to the Bible.
Asimov’s guide to Paradise Lost is also fun.
Let us go to the Amazon to find this amazing work…
aaaannddd it’s got to be good, it’s only available from 3rd party sellers starting at £70.73…
I read exactly two sentences of this book at the public library recently and knew I had to have it for my own. I can’t possibly check it out and read all I want of it in a reasonable amount of time while staying ahead of the library police. I have been making a project of reading Will’s plays then listening to lectures on them, and then watching a performance on YouTube, Netflix, or Amazon Prime if available (so far all but one, Pericles Prince of Tyre, was possible to witness—a shame as I can’t believe someone hasn’t made a Harryhausen-style “dynamation” version of it, ripe as it is for that style). This book looks sure to greatly enhance my enjoyment of my self-assigned project.
P.S. Asimov’s “Understanding Physics” saved me from certain failure in high school physics (that and sitting next to a smart foreign student who needed a lot of help from the teacher understanding his way of pronouncing terms).
Asimov described sharing a banquet table with someone who was raving about the wonders of these new-fangled word processing computers. He finally wound down and asked, “Can you imagine having to write a book just using a typewriter?”
Isaac said, “Yes.”