Christopher Marlowe is a fascinating figure. Forget Shakespeare (well, actually, don’t; Shakespeare is kind of a big deal), Marlowe was the real rapscallion of the Elizabethans.

We may not know a great deal about him, but the tantalising slivers left behind in his life and writing have endured to this day. Having composed seven plays now considered classics by the age of 29 – including Doctor Faustus – he was slaughtered on the streets of Deptford as either a drunkard, a spy, an atheist; no-one is certain. Yet as Sport For Jove prepares to bring Edward II to visceral life, it is clear the 16th-century bard remains as vital as ever.

“I read the play a while ago now,” director Terry Karabelas recalls, “and I remember Damien [Ryan, Sport For Jove managing director] and I were caught by how modern this play felt in its subject matter, in its ideas, its structure and language. It is a late-16th-century play, but like great literature and theatre, the themes are so universal and timeless. I mean, Marlowe is exploring all the usuals – love, lust, betrayals, passion, ruthlessness – but at the core, he’s exploring personal and political transgressions. How the personal is all too often political, and the political is usually rooted in the personal struggles of a leader. That’s what he’s exploring, and I think the relevance and connection to today, in my mind, is all too clear.

“These notions don’t leave us. It’s part of our DNA and organisation as a society. Where do we draw these lines, and where do we cross them? Who legislates, and how do you reign if you are essentially unfit to rule?”

While Edward II was one of Marlowe’s last plays, it is rather a useful launch pad to appreciate his oeuvre as a whole, and in doing so, fashion some sense of the man himself. There are noted parallels between this and his final play, The Massacre At Paris, and on the heels of Faustus it’s fun to note the name of Edward’s adversary, Lightborn (Lucifer).

As Karabelas adds, though, within Marlowe’s text there are distinct shadows of the author, and the struggles of his characters are quite rooted in his contemporary concerns. “Sometimes you find a playwright and you can’t take much of his or her biography from the text, but in this case you really can. Marlowe had a personal motto: ‘That which nourishes me destroys me.’ I think that rather sums up the whole play. The very thing that nourishes and sustains Edward is the very thing that will ultimately bring his downfall: his illicit desire and love for the nobleman Gaveston, which threatens to completely ruin a nation.

“Marlowe was a punk, an enfant terrible, he was a famous atheist. There are beautiful passages where he just rails against the church, how they’re tyrannical and oppress humanity. His biography just pours straight into the writing. His language as compared to Shakespeare is very lean and direct. Marlowe doesn’t go in for extended metaphors. He’ll give you a line, and it’s almost like everything you need to know is contained there.”

Although there are certain recurrent themes between Shakespeare and Marlowe (and some rather suspiciously similar lines), the celebrated conspiracy that Shakespeare was actually Christopher Marlowe holds little water for Karabelas. The writing is far too distinct, and the publication timeline doesn’t quite fit with the seismic shift in Marlowe’s prose that would allow for such reinvention.

“Marlowe is generally put as the most likely candidate, and I love that controversy. Marlowe was killed in what was essentially a pub brawl, and there’s a lot of conspiracy around that too. Was it just a fight that got out of hand, or was he assassinated? But working on this play, I’ve profoundly come to realise two things. Firstly, there’s no doubt that Shakespeare is heavily influenced by Marlowe. For instance, the deposition scene in Edward is almost the same as the deposition scene in Richard II. Lines like, ‘Gallop apace, bright Phœbus,’ in Marlowe, and ‘Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds / Towards Phoebus’ lodging,’ from Shakespeare. It’s quite extraordinary.

“So I think Shakespeare was profoundly influenced by Marlowe. But I’ve also come to realise there’s no way they could be the same person. If Shakespeare is Marlowe, then there was a major literary transplant that happened in the space of a year or two. They’re just not the same. The structure isn’t the same, the language isn’t the same. Marlowe is lean, direct and economical. He thunders, whereas Shakespeare plucks.”

Though written around 1593 concerning a period of history more than 200 years earlier, the contemporary relevance of Edward II is strong. Power, politics, death and desire; these traits endure despite the centuries.

“Ultimately, what I’m really fascinated about in this play is the humanity of the characters,” Karabelas says. “Marlowe has such a deft touch and great insight. He doesn’t paint characters as either good or bad, he makes everyone deeply flawed. He gives you a lot of anti-heroes.

“Edward, for example, has the capacity for incredible love and tenderness, passion and good, but he’s also very weak. He makes spectacular bad choices and can be quite bloodthirsty. Marlowe is giving you a brief but very realistic view of humanity – what our best qualities are, but alongside that we all have very negative, dark qualities that threaten to engulf us.”

Edward IIrunsThursday October 1 – Saturday October 17 at Seymour Centre.

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