This book asks why Shakespeare and his contemporary playwrights were so preoccupied with drugs and poisons, and why both critics and supporters of the theater as well as playwrights themselves so frequently adopted a chemical vocabulary to describe the effects of the theater on audiences. Drawing on original medical and literary research, it is shown that the potency of the link between drugs and plays in the period demonstrates a model of drama radically different than our own — a model in which plays exert an immediate impact on spectators’ bodies as well as minds. Early modern physiology he ... More

This book asks why Shakespeare and his contemporary playwrights were so preoccupied with drugs and poisons, and why both critics and supporters of the theater as well as playwrights themselves so frequently adopted a chemical vocabulary to describe the effects of the theater on audiences. Drawing on original medical and literary research, it is shown that the potency of the link between drugs and plays in the period demonstrates a model of drama radically different than our own — a model in which plays exert an immediate impact on spectators’ bodies as well as minds. Early modern physiology held that the imagination and emotions were part of the body and exerted a material impact on it, yet scholars of medicine and drama alike have not recognized the consequences of this idea. Plays, which alter our emotions and thought, simultaneously change us physically. This book argues that the power of the theater in Shakespeare’s England as well as the striking hostility to it stems from the widely held contemporary idea that drama acted upon the body as well as the mind. In yoking together pharmacy and theater, this book offers a new model for understanding the relationship between texts and bodies. Just as bodies are constituted in part by the imaginative fantasies they consume, the theater’s success (and notoriety) depends on its power over spectators’ bodies.