This transcendental insight or genius plays a very important role in establishing the author as ruler of the text. Given this conception of authorial genius, we can hardly be surprised that we find ourselves curiously unsatisfied with the apparent dearth of biographical information with which we can construct a Shakespeare, an author, whose genius defines and controls the works which are attributed to him. And, as Boyle says, How terrible it would be then, to find that the greatest author of all was a professional playwright who knocked out scripts for money, and made canny investments of the proceeds. How bizarre it would be if, while showing great concern over the management of his real estate, Shakespeare did not protest pirated, corrupt, or unauthorized versions of his work. Levi, to his credit, establishes the milieu of sixteenth century England, then connects it to the plays.
Bloom enthusiastically embraces the concept.
He says, A High Romantic Bardolatry, now so much disdained in our self-defiled academies, is merely the most normative of the faiths that worship him. . . . If any author has become a mortal god, it must be Shakespeare. On the other side, we have the Oxfordians, the best organized and most vociferous of the anti-Stratfordians, for whom an author must also be found. They, too, reject the author who writes for material gain, who is more concerned with his investments than his artistic oeuvre, and who leaves us no guidelines as to how we might read or perform his work. They also reject the notion that a person of ordinary education could possibly have produced work so richly embroidered with references to court life, myth, travel, military lore, history, etc.