In Memoriam: Kevin Sharpe

Summer 2010
Summer 2010

 

Professor Kevin Sharpe, Director of the Centre for Renaissance and Early Modern Studies and Professor of Renaissance Studies at Queen Mary, University of London, died peacefully in hospital surrounded by family and friends on 5 November 2011.

 

Kevin was diagnosed with lymphoma in 2009, but had made a good recovery and was pursuing research projects and teaching in the Department of English with his famous vitality until he was struck down with a recurrence of the disease in the middle of October this year.  The cruel swiftness of this last illness shocked all of those who knew him, and seemed barely conceivable to those who had seen him recently.

 

Upon arriving at Queen Mary as a Leverhulme Research Professor, Kevin founded the Centre for Renaissance and Early Modern Studies and inaugurated its highly successful series of ‘Renaissance Witnessed’ seminars.  Through sheer force of will and his unmatchable charisma, he attracted speakers of international renown to the series, all of whom gave their services for no reward other than what Kevin described as a ‘decent dinner’.  His understatement was both startling to those who knew him as a man who did things on a large scale, and familiar in its modesty about his own achievements: the after-seminar suppers he organised were legendary for their ebullience and collegial fun.  Always committed to helping younger colleagues and possessed of boundless generosity, Kevin made sure not only that they were invited to his dinners, but that they also delivered talks in the series or commented on and chaired senior speakers.  

 

c. 1984
c. 1984

Kevin was a great talker; he was also a great listener.  Every conversation with him, no matter how brief, yielded food for thought, reconsideration of one’s own ideas, and quite probably a fruity anecdote.  His students, from the first-years to whom he taught Shakespeare to the Ph.D. students he saw fortnightly, were well aware quite how lucky they were to work with him.

 

Kevin came to Queen Mary from a chair at Warwick, having taught for many years in the History department at the University of Southampton.  His time at Warwick and Queen Mary saw his translation into departments of English: the outward and visible sign of a long process by which he had become more and more interested in the importance of cultural artefacts – literary texts, medals, paintings – to our understanding of early modern politics, and increasingly committed to the values of interdisciplinary dialogue.  

 

The seeds of this can perhaps be discerned as early as his 1979 monograph, Sir Robert Cotton 1586–1631: History and Politics in Early Modern England.  Based on Kevin’s Oxford D.Phil. thesis, this book studied the antiquary’s library and his 

Multitasking?
Multitasking?

friendships with poets and playwrights alongside his political career at court and in parliament.  In its interest in the part played by reading in the formation of political ideas, Sir Robert Cotton forms an arc with Kevin’s much later study of the reading habits of Sir William Drake, Reading Revolutions (2000).  Between the two, he had developed his concern with the politics of literature in Criticism and Compliment and in a ground-breaking collection of essays – the first of several to be edited with Steven N. Zwicker – Politics of Discourse, both published in 1987.  

He also published his magisterial account of The Personal Rule of Charles I (1992), in which he argued strongly for Charles’s astuteness as a monarch in opposition to the received image of him as a weak and vacillating king forever in his father’s intellectual shadow.  This brief account cannot do justice to Kevin’s many publications, or to their enormous influence on the field (often provoking angry ripostes from his opponents – which, inevitably, he relished).  

 

Most recently he had published the first two volumes of a projected trilogy on the construction of political authority in early modern England: Selling the Tudor Monarchy (2009) and Image Wars (2010).  Initially conceived as ‘one big book’, instead two quite enormous books resulted from this project (the third is completed but not yet published), packed with new research and vigorous arguments about the origins of ‘spin’, and with Kevin’s voracious, insatiable learning evident on every page.  

With David Katz, 1986 ‘Don’t ever show this picture,’ Kevin said.  ‘People will call it “Katz and Sharpe on the Ropes”’
With David Katz, 1986 ‘Don’t ever show this picture,’ Kevin said. ‘People will call it “Katz and Sharpe on the Ropes”’

 

It is hard to believe that these books were completed and brought to the press during, and in the aftermath of, his grave first illness – hard, that is, for anyone who did not know Kevin, and had not encountered and been invigorated by his apparently unstoppable energy.

 

It is that energy, along with his wit, kindness, and zeal for the best of intellectual life (and the best of everything that life had to offer) that Kevin’s many friends and colleagues around the world will remember.  We feel his loss keenly, and send our condolences to his family at this very sad time.

 

Details of commemorative events will be circulated in due course.

 

David Colclough

Department of English

 

If you would like to contribute a message for posting on these pages, you are warmly welcome to email us

 

Remembering Kevin..... 

With Michelle, Devon, June 2011
With Michelle, Devon, June 2011
With a young friend, Oxford, 1997
With a young friend, Oxford, 1997
 
With Peter Lake, Houghton Hall, Norfolk, summer 2009
With Peter Lake, Houghton Hall, Norfolk, summer 2009

With Graham Rees, Pasadena, 2002

Kevin and Inigo Lipton Chaney, 2011
 

From David Katz: Amy and I stayed with Kevin in October 2009. Kevin had just received his OAP card and was very pleased that he could use local transport for free...which led to a jaunt to Stratford, Kevin riding as an OAP while we bought our fares. Kev would not allow himself to be photographed before he unleashed his card.
 

From David Katz: Peter Lake and I stayed with Kev in Southampton at the end of the Summer in 1999. On the weekend, we went over to the Isle of Wight, returning late back to Kevin's house, where he insisted on preparing what he always called 'the menu': salmon, new potatoes, and green beans.

 


summer 2010

 

 

Online Obituaries in Memory of Kevin Sharpe (1949-2011)

 

 

I am deeply saddened to hear of Kevin's death. Our paths crossed at Warwick and at various conferences, but it was at the Huntington Library that I best remember him, always acting as (as far as I could tell) self-appointed social secretary, engineer of meetings of people he thought should know one another, and general guide and friend to Brits who were new to the place. He was always much in demand as a card-carrying historian who would actually talk to us literary types - still a rarity, perhaps, but less so since Kevin began to break that mould. He will be greatly missed.

Richard Dutton, Humanities Distinguished Professor and Chair, Department of English, Ohio State University

 

So shocked and saddened to hear the news. Kevin was a first-rank academic, and a pioneer in interdisciplinary studies. More importantly, he was also a modest, friendly and thoroughly decent person. Everyone I've talked to has the highest admiration for him, both as a scholar and as a human being. We will all miss him in so many ways.

David J. Appleby, Lecturer in Early Modern British History, University of Nottingham

 

Very sad to hear of Kevin's death. He taught me as an undergraduate and was internal examiner for my PhD at Southampton. I was (and remained!) in awe of his intellect and his larger than life personality, but valued (and will remember) his kindness, encouragement and enthusiasm.

Andrew Sawyer, Research Associate, School of Museum Studies, University of Leicester

 

I am immensely saddened to hear of Kevin Sharpe's sudden demise. He was without question a key player and thinker in early modern studies - one of the few that could really have his work entered as paradigm shifting in those terrible RAE reports. His richly imaginative and authoritative work has provided a constant inspiration to me, as to so many thousands of others, and I will always value the many conversations, always illuminating, that I was able to have with him since meeting him when a post-graduate at Warwick and many times since. His tongue, like his wit, was sharp and he liked nothing better than a lively exchange - he once described a group of historians as 'a spite' - but his heart was warm and he was always encouraging. If all the people he has inspired could attend a memorial service it would require several Wembleys to contain them and he would richly deserve that tribute.

Angela McShane, Victoria and Albert Museum, London

 

Kevin Sharpe was one of the most un-solemn people I ever met. He was my contemporary as a research student at Oxford, and I can still remember first meeting him as he rose suddenly from behind his desk in the upper reading-room of Bodley to ambush my companion David Norbrook and me, bright-eyed and conspicuously confident. Over a coffee he gave us both advice on ways of handling the sillier parts of Oxford administration and, generally, how to get on. He was always chipper, amused, passionate about the seventeenth century and the way it was in his view frequently misinterpreted. He would deviate with alarming rapidity from scholarly to personal counsel, and both discourses could always be counted on to be controversial, solicitous, completely lacking in pomposity and often hilarious. I ended up in the same Faculty as him in Southampton, and by then he was established as an unstoppably successful historian, marvellously productive and with a reputation as someone who constantly challenged wisdoms as soon as they hinted that they were becoming received. He and Jonathan Sawday were fine sparring partners, and the rest of us gratefully picked up tips from the contests. Kevin’s career always moved on a notably broad front, taking in not only the job he happened to be doing, but pulling with it a wake of research funding, collaborative projects, a stream of publications, endless plans, all composing an overall spectacle hotly pursued by other universities to whom Kevin would wave from time to time. He waved to us at QMUL, and actually changed ships for his all too short but extremely successful stay here. He gave us the same mixture of informal authority and easy prestige powering some very energetic interventions in the life of the department and faculty which were very valuable and typically inclusive. And his own brand of collegial confidences continued to flow, as supportive and amusing as ever. His advice to me this time on handling increasing age and imminent decrepitude was quite unrepeatable and extremely practical. Clearly the future was there for the taking. It is therefore desperately sad that he has been struck down like this, with so much left to give, his ability and fecundity as an historian apparently unimpeded by the interruptions of bad health and hospitalization. Until the last one, so sudden and shocking. Kevin is quite unforgettable, a man who was many-sided but always, utterly, himself, always engagingly so, and I am very glad to have known him.

Paul Hamilton, Professor of English, Department of English, Queen Mary University of London 

 
It's with great sadness that I have heard about the death of Professor Kevin Sharpe. I have never met him but as I am a PhD student at UCL in Early Modern History, I have read his works which inspired me. I guess I just wanted to say that Kevin Sharpe's work is of a great value for Early Modernists and he will be remembered.

Estelle Paranque, French Lectrice, Department of French, Queen Mary University of London
 

I met Kevin in the autumn of 2009, several months into a two-year postdoctoral fellowship at Warwick University. A mutual friend had suggested I contact him since he would be interested in my work. Not only was Kevin indeed curious to learn about my work, he was also interested in me as a person. Over the next year and a half Kevin and I kept in regular contact, chatting over a coffee at Warwick or a beer in Leamington. To my great delight, Kevin became both an academic mentor and a good friend. I will never forget going to the Sommerville Arms in Leamington Spa with Kevin to listen to local musicians perform bluegrass—the memory of him clapping and calling out loudly for a rendition of “Jesus on that Mainline” (and then singing along to it) will stay with me for the rest of my days.

Kevin’s relentless optimism and concern for my well-being was demonstrated numerous times during the final months of my time at Warwick. Facing a very difficult choice relating to my career, Kevin listened to me talk about my dilemma and offered helpful advice. He tried to make my way easier by writing letters and suggesting alternatives. He did this despite the fact that I was neither his student nor his colleague, and only temporarily living in his country.  Even after I had returned to Canada last summer, Kevin kept in touch.  I had been thinking that it was high time to phone him last month when I learned of the return of his illness.

Two and a half years ago, had someone predicted that I would become friends with one of the most important scholars of early modern English political culture of the past thirty years, I would have thought it a wild dream. It was my great honour and pleasure to be surprised by the kindness and warmth and generosity of Professor Sharpe. He will be greatly missed, and fondly remembered, for a long time by many people.

Matthew Neufeld, Lecturer, Department of History, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, Canada

 
I first met Kevin Sharpe in the autumn of 1980 in Oxford. He was chronologically ten years my senior, and recently established at Southampton Faction and Parliament and the book on Cotton had recently come out, and set him off to a very promising start (though I don't think anyone realized what a prolific and influential researcher he would evolve into). I was a brand new D.Phil. student, recently arrived from Canada with precious little research experience, and working with the late Gerald Aylmer. After a series of false starts on other thesis topics, I had expressed to Gerald my wish to write something in the area of intellectual history. He immediately admitted this was not his forte and said I should meet Kevin. So, Kevin and I had coffee and, surprisingly, he invited me down to visit him in Southampton. I spent a whole afternoon with him in January 1981, during which we chatted about Cotton, antiquarianism, history, etc. It was in that afternoon that my thesis topic on early seventeenth-century historians was hatched, and pretty well the major theme of my working career as a historian. I think it also no exaggeration to admit that prior to that point I was very seriously thinking of chucking the whole business, returning to Canada, and finding something else to do with my life. That I did not is of course owed to several people, Gerald Aylmer among them, but it is that January afternoon in Southampton with Kevin which I still regard as a turning point in my early academic fortunes.

Although I returned to Canada to pursue my career in the mid-80s, Kevin and I were in touch with reasonable regularity over the next 3 decades, given that our interests frequently overlapped. We reviewed each other's books (though I still find it quite funny that both of us published quite different books on the history of readership in the year 2000 without realizing that the other was working on the same subject!). We provided advice and criticism on work in progress (I saw early versions of the proposal for what will be his capstone work on Selling the Tudor Monarchy. We connected in person generally at conferences or when we both found ourselves in Oxford.

Many will testify to Kevin's energy and enthusiasm, and his indefatigable ability to produce one weighty historical tome after another, not to mention his ability to cross disciplinary lines into literature long before this was fashionable. My major thought as I learned with others of his friends of his returned illness, and passing, is of a young and ambitious scholar who would willingly spend a valuable afternoon not writing or researching, but helping a completely unknown and rather aimless graduate student, not his own, to think through an inchoate thesis topic and to steer him in the direction of some sources. Nearly 3 decades later, Kevin was still showing such generosity, most recently to one of my own recent PhD students, Matthew Neufeld, who had a postdoctoral fellowship at Warwick. The profession has lost a terrific, provocative and thoughtful scholar; and many of us have lost a friend and guide.

Daniel Woolf, Professor of History and Principal and Vice-Chancellor, Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada