Year of the King by Anthony Sher

Books are one of my main pleasures, and I would have expected that in these most peculiar of times that my book habit would have magnified, but weirdly it hasn’t. I think as much as anything it is the sheer abnormality of the times we are in has meant that I haven’t been able to concentrate and settle into anything. I have started and stopped a number of books over the last month (running the gamut from John Le Carré to Gore Vidal), not because they weren’t good or engaging or interesting, but because I just wasn’t in the mood for them. The trouble is, I didn’t know what I was in the mood for, which meant going back to my bookshelves and starting again.

In the end I went with the maxim that if in doubt, go back to a book that you know by heart and just float along in its tide. So I did. The book in question was The Year of the King by Anthony Sher, his recounting of his year preparing to play Richard III at Stratford for the RSC in the mid 80’s and how his famous spider interpretation was created.

The thing about books is that they don’t only tell stories – they are part of our own story. I have a mental narrative attached to more or less every book on my shelf related to the reasons I bought a book, or where I bought it, or why I wanted to read it. I think these contexts give extra richness to the experience of reading.

Anyway back to the book in question.

I bought The Year of the King in 1987, and to some extent I credit it with getting me my first full time job. I had just finished college in Edinburgh and had been invited for interview for a real job in Aberdeen. It’s a three hour train journey between the two cities, so I needed reading material and finished up buying The Year of the King at my local Waterstone after reading reviews of it in the paper. I packed up a sandwich for the journey up (as a recent ex-student I wasn’t going to pay money at the buffet) and my new book and headed northwards.

I say that I credit the book with getting me the job because I got so absorbed in it that I didn’t fret about the interview on the way up. I’d done as much research as I could before hand (pre-internet) – I had my notes and knew them by heart. If I hadn’t had something engaging to read, I’d probably have spent the entire journey biting my nails and tearing my notes into shreds, but instead I got lost in tales of Richard III and arrived in Aberdeen bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to take on the world – or at least the interview panel.

So back to The Year of the King – why do I like it so much? And I do. It’s one of my favourite books, probably even a Desert Island Book! (notice the capitalisation…)

I like it because it is a fascinating account of how creativity happens – the sheer hard work that goes on behind the scenes. The random pieces of life that connect to fill in a bigger picture. I like it because Anthony Sher is not only a brilliant actor, he’s a really engaging writer who loves what he does. He is also a wonderful artist and the book is full of observant sketches of his creative process and his day-to-day experiences.

Sher takes us on a journey from how rupturing his Achilles tendon playing The Fool in King Lear pushed him into therapy (physical and mental) and made him look at the dichotomy of Shakespeare’s Richard III being both so physically challenged, but at the same time a warrior. How do you play that on stage in a safe, compelling and believable way? Sher’s answer was crutches, and the exploration of how this would work within the context of the play is fascinating.

While this is a book about a creative process, it is by default a book about an intensely creative man, because the two are indivisible. Part of the book is about his return to South Africa for the first time since he left to try his hand at professional acting in London. As a white, gay, Jewish South African, he was always going to stand out wherever he went, but it’s fascinating to see him back in the environment he grew up in and trying to work through how he fit, both as an artistic child and as a fully fledged grown up artist.

I really appreciate that it’s a very honest book. He talks about the frustration of a television production of Molière being impacted by a strike and about his feelings when a respected friend tells him that Richard III is a predicable choice for his next role. His self-doubt about signing up to the RSC for a two year turn if they can’t offer him anything concrete other than Richard. But in the midst of all this ‘white noise’, there’s the joy of discovery about this iconic role, about exploring its possibilities with the director and fellow actors and about the fear of not serving the play, his cast mates and the audience in the way they deserve if his creative choices don’t work. 

I know I'm overusing the word 'fascinating', but it really is fascinating to also get a glimpse behind the curtain at how a company as iconic as the RSC works in its administration, forward planning, casting choices and rehearsal period before the public ever get near a production.

I love this book. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read it, and a reread was just what I needed to give me a pick-me-up.  I may be retired now, but I still remember how absorbed I was reading it for the first time on the train north and now half a world away I’m still finding new things in it to enjoy.

The Year of the King by Anthony Sher was first published in 1985 and my copy was published by Methuen.