I am reminded of Neil Gaiman’s epic graphic novel, ‘The Sandman’, within
which a young William Shakespeare accepts the gift of inspiration from the
king of dreams. In return he agrees to write two plays. The first of these
is ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ which is intended as a gift to the fairy
folk, who gather to watch it performed.

The concluding chapter of ‘The Sandman’ returns to William Shakespeare, now
an old man and struggling to fulfil the second part of his bargain by
finishing ‘The Tempest’. 

The narrative jumps back and forth between Shakespeare’s daily routine and
images of the play which he is in the process writing. These images are
themselves reflections and distortions of his domestic life and concerns,
such as his fear of losing his daughter, Judith, in marriage to an
unsuitable young man.   

Much of the story focuses on Shakespeare's attempts to come to terms with
his decision to spend so much of his life removed from reality, dabbling in
dreams and images, at the expense of his family. 

There is a visit from Ben Johnson who recounts his colourful past and
wonders why his friend has not enjoyed a similarly rich existence. 

His daughter Judith bemoans the fact that he was always writing or tending
to the performances of his plays in London and never gave her enough of his
attention. 

And there is the distant, strained relationship that Shakespeare shares with
his wife, who at one point remarks:

“You know the trouble with you Will? You live in words, not in the real
world. You think too much. You dream too much.”

For the purposes of his story, Gaiman records ‘The Tempest’ as being
Shakespeare’s final work. That is contentious, but, never-the-less, fits in
with the themes of ‘The Sandman’. When Prospero breaks his staff and
renounces his magical powers at the end of the play, it is a reflection
Shakespeare’s resolve to put down his pen and leave behind his life as a
writer. This image also expresses The king of dreams’ intent to give up his
kingdom.

After I had turned the final page of ‘The Sandman’ I thought about it a lot.
The issues that it raised fed into another dichotomy I was pondering at the
time; one that was fuelled by the pseudo-autobiographical novels of Jack
Kerouac: 

Is it better to a be a Kerouac figure, who leads half a life and spends the
other half documenting all that goes on around him? Or is it preferable to
live with the burning intensity of Neal Cassady – the hero of many Kerouac
books - who wrote very little, so engaged was he in the act of living.

Perhaps the ideal state of existence is one in which the real and virtual
worlds meet. Where you are content to experience life with the wide-open
senses of an artist, without feeling compelled to express what you have
experienced in a piece of art. To live fully from moment to fleeting moment,
leaving no tracks and no record.  

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