A few years ago I had a letter published in the editorial pages of the International Herald Tribune, in response to the following editorial (much abridged for space, by me):

Meanwhile: I wasted time, and now doth time waste me
Robert Taylor LONDON Saturday, July 31, 2004
A few weeks ago, I made the mistake of going to see “Measure for Measure” at London’s National Theatre.
As usual with Shakespeare’s plays, the audience had to be told the plot beforehand in the program notes, because everyone knows that Elizabethan English will leave you confused within seconds. There wasn’t even an intermission – I guess because the producers feared that half the audience would disappear. The woman to my left sat still throughout the whole thing, seemingly engrossed. At first, I assumed she must be a renowned Shakespeare scholar. But no, she was fast asleep….
Still, Shakespeare won’t go down without a fight. In fact, his works are almost beyond criticism in some circles. I’ve heard many an Oxford graduate say that Dickens is turgid, Austen frivolous and Dostoyevsky just plain dull, but I rarely hear them knock Shakespeare. The English are indoctrinated from birth – not by his brilliance, but by the assumption of his brilliance. It is literary correctness, and it’s a powerful force.
The result is that Shakespeare invades areas of life that he has no right to be in. There are those who believe that to sprinkle his words into a conversation shows how smart they are. Discussing politics, you might hear someone say: “A peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.” You know it’s Shakespeare because you don’t have a clue what it means. But you feel obliged to nod knowingly….
I believe that most people who attend Shakespeare plays find them to be dull and impenetrable. Try opening a Shakespeare play at random and see how comprehensible it is. I did, and I got the following sparkling insight from Autolycus in “The Winter’s Tale“: “Let me pocket up my pedler’s excrement. How now, rusticks? Whither are you bound?” Any suggestions as to the meaning?
So why bother with Shakespeare at all? Isn’t life just too short for theater in a language barely understandable – in iambic pentameter or blank verse – featuring a character called Bottom? ….

I then wrote and had published the following letter, again seriously edited. While they maintained the substance of what I wrote, I’d prefer for you to read the original:

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Subject: In defense of the Bard
In his diatribe against Shakespeare (Meanwhile, July 31) Robert Taylor succumbs to the all-too-common mistake of one who travels to a foreign country and then complains that things aren’t the way they are at home. While English has certainly changed in the four hundred years since the plays were first written and performed, they are still accessible to those who are willing, like any intrepid traveler, to meet the language barrier halfway. I represent an amateur group in Tokyo, meeting once a month based on a mutual love of the Bard. People of all nationalities, some with less experience than Mr. Taylor himself, all find enough in the text to enjoy, even appreciate, the genius that produced words of such immortal beauty.
Mr. Taylor expressed bewilderment over the lovable rogue Autolycus in Winter’s Tale speaking the following line: “Let me pocket up my pedlar’s excrement. How now, rustics? Whither are you bound?” (Act IV, sc.iv, line 714) Since Mr. Taylor pulled this quote out of a book “at random”, it may in fact seem incomprehensible, but if one reads or watches the play as intended, then with the slightest bit of thought this passage becomes so obvious as to seem mundane. The only word in the quote which is no longer in common usage is “Whither”, meaning “Where to?” Even for those who have never before encountered this word in literature, the meaning is clear from the context, especially when the “rustics” respond by telling him where they are going. “Rustic” is itself perfectly straightforward, other than that here it is used as a noun rather than an adjective. The spelling of “peddler” has changed somewhat over the years, but in that Autolycus makes a living as a dishonest salesman, no further explanation is necessary. The only other difficulty is the word “excrement”, but since the character is at that point removing his false whiskers (which is clear in both the stage notes of the text and the performance on stage, at least for those paying attention) we see that our Bard was employing a metaphor: the beard as an “excretion” of the face.
I suspect that Mr. Taylor’s use of the line was in fact due to a schoolboy-like fascination with the naughtier implications of the word “excrement”. This is, however, no disqualification for watching or enjoying a Shakespeare play. Even the “groundlings” of Shakespeare’s day appreciated these scatological references — such as plays like A Midsummer Night’s Dream “featuring a character called Bottom”. I urge Mr. Taylor and all readers to keep an open mind and meet Shakespeare halfway like I did. For a man four hundred years in the grave, he has given me a gift that I can never repay.
Richard Schwartz
on behalf of the Tokyo Shakespeare Club

I also tracked down the author (via Google) and sent a copy of the letter to him, and got this response the next day. While his comments are gracious and open-minded, I’m surprised that he makes the claim that he wasn’t attacking Shakespeare.

Richard,
Thank you for your email. Do you mind if I ask how you found my email address? I don’t mind receiving emails from readers at all, but just wondered what the process is, and how others might send their thoughts to me.
Your comments are thought-provoking and articulate, and an excellent defence of Shakespeare. I would, however, take issue with your reference to my column as a “diatribe” against Shakespeare. Without wishing to repeat the arguments in my column, my general thrust is that for most ordinary people (and there are many ordinary people who are taken to Shakespeare plays) Shakespeare is dull and impenetrable. Such people don’t have the time or inclination to meet Shakespeare halfway — they prefer forms of entertainment which don’t require such investment. It may be harsh for me to point this out, but your explanation of one of Shakespeare’s lines required two paragraphs of text!
I really don’t believe, however, that we disagree very much. Your point is — and I agree with it — that Shakespeare is immensely rewarding for those who are prepared to make the effort, and that much of his language is of immortal beauty. My point is — and I’m sure you agree with me — that a lot of people can’t be bothered to make such an effort.
I really appreciate the time you’ve taken to write to the IHT — it’s one of the joys of writing for an international publication that one can strike up a “conversation” with someone across the other side of the world. I do hope your letter is published, perhaps in tomorrow’s edition.
Thanks and best wishes,
Robert Taylor