I bought this together with Bradley's 'Shakespearean Tragedy'. As compared with that, it has the advantage of being less school-textbook-ish, and WK at least realises that 'the pattern of the whole must be grasped before we can understand the significance of the parts'. That quote is taken from the chapter about Tolstoy's famous essay on King Lear, which seems to me to be the key part of the book. I think WK is right that Shakespeare had largely been praised for the wrong things - his characterisation and 'invention' (when he got most of his stories from other sources!) - and that this was what repelled Tolstoy (he misses, though, what Orwell later picked up, that Tolstoy may have been discomfited by the similarity of Lear to his own life; and also that there may have been an element of of professional jealousy in his criticism).
At least starting with Tolstoy seems to have stimulated WK to look for Shakespeare's essential nature as an artist and not, like Bradley, nit-pick over the details. You feel his passion for the plays, they are not just a set of specimens for him to dissect. He seems to understand that Shakespeare's greatness is not really as a dramatist at all - in fact many of the weaknesses of his work are attributable to his working in that medium - but as a poet, and that his work should be understood as poetry.
'To understand Shakespeare', he says, 'one must make this original acceptance: to believe, first, in people who speak poetry; thence in human actions which subserve a poetic purpose; and finally, in strange effects in nature which harmonise with the persons and their acts; the whole building a massive statement which, if accepted in its entirety, induces a profound experience in the reader or spectator'. In other words, first you must believe; then you will see. This is great, profound criticism; it explains the bafflement that every modern person in their degree, not just Tolstoy, feels on first encountering Shakespeare, how to work your way through it, and why it is worth doing so. If it were understood by educators, kids would have some chance of coming away from the study of Shakespeare enriched by it. Instead, it is generally presented as if it was just some kind of alien hieroglyphics which they need to decode in order to pass an exam, which serves no other purpose, and which their teachers hardly appreciate any better than they do; or at best, as something they ought to be able to relate to as naturally as an ep of Eastenders. To encourage and guide them, the kids have only whatever natural poetic instinct they may possess; and this the education system generally does its best to kill, with the constant study of issue- or autobiography-driven modern non-poets.
However, when WK tries to illustrate this theory in detail you realise that it is vitiated by two things. First, it doesn't always fit the facts. Not every component of every play contributes to 'building a massive statement'. It is most true of the greatest plays. Tolstoy's carping about King Lear was largely misplaced, yes; but the arbitrariness of Measure for Measure, for example, can't entirely be explained away by its overall moral meaning. It also owes something to a working dramatist's willingness to create a sensation by the use of cheap effects, and corresponding indifference to verisimilitude - we have to remember that, while Shakespeare may have been a great artist, he also had to pay the bills - and although it may be an ethical drama I don't think it is moral or religious in the highest sense. And the second thing is WK's disturbing inclination towards Nietzschean, almost quasi-fascist ideology (of course this was before the war gave fascism such a bad name): so that, as well as referring frequently to the 'superman', he can talk about a 'creative act of assassination' or say that 'we only progress through conflict' (by which he appears to mean war).
In any case, I can't go the last step of the way with those who claim Shakespeare to have been an essentially moral, religious or philosophical poet. I think people say this because they feel, given his obviously broad intelligence and sensitive spirit, that he *ought* to have been. In fact there are sufficient indications that he was sympathetic to Catholicism although, in the climate of the time, he probably didn't actively practice it. But his instinctive attitude to life, reflected in Measure for Measure as much as anywhere else, was neither religious nor rationalistic, but simply the average bloke's cynicism born of experience: life is a poor job but - having no alternative - we're well advised to make the best of it. It's something we can all relate to, but it's not inspiring. And perhaps this is why Shakespeare didn't produce any comedies (in which he would have had to offer some more positive vision of life's purpose) of the same stature of his great tragedies (in which it was enough to lament its horrors). It's why, contrary to what some claim, his plays - even together - do not add up to such a monumental achievement as Dante's Divine Comedy (as TS Eliot says, there is in Shakespeare more variety, more knowledge of life; but Dante is deeper and higher). But it's also why, as WK keeps telling us, his sensibility is very modern.
WK's own writing is not as smooth as Bradley's; I suppose he was in on the birth of academic-ese, with sentences like these:
'Yet as the rest of the passage vitiates even those, which asserted that there was nothing to be said about Arthur or Cordelia, the total resultant [not 'result'!] is one of sheer vacancy'.
...or note the pseudo-word 'subserve', above, instead of just 'serve'. But, not to fall prey to another of his faults, that of giving half a dozen unnecessary illustrations of a point complete with references, I'll stop ther