Last week I experienced the rapt pleasure of writing a postmortem commentary on the ‘Shakespearean magnitude’ of HBO’s Succession, following a wildly entertaining series finale in which these tropes came right to the fore. In writing the blog, I read—and was delighted to enjoy—a number of lively articles from culture writers making their own very similar observations.

What a massively enjoyable cultural phenomenon, I thought—though apparently quite ridiculously, according to that great beacon of all cultural thought, The New Yorker.

In her satirical Daily Shout, ‘Have You Noticed that “Succession” Is Like Shakespeare?’ , writer Kelly Conaboy mocks—in a poncey, ironic voice—all those ‘pretentious’ and ‘unbearably erudite’ people who would draw these parallels. Writer Constance Grady, in her own highly enjoyable piece for Vox—‘Succession’s Kendall is Shakespeare’s Prince Hal gone terribly wrong’—concedes to Conaboy’s claim with a defence: ‘By now it’s become a cliché to say that Succession is Shakespearean, but the statement is nonetheless accurate.’

Grady’s perceived need to acknowledge her own insights as commonplace—and yet somehow also elitist (according to Conaboy)—is not only entirely unnecessary in any discussion about Shakespeare, it also points to the arrogant intellectualism that characterises much culture writing in our time.

Ironically, Conaboy skewers the condescending blowhard who would suggest that ‘Shakespeare’s plays were actually written to be understood by everyone, not just the hyperintellectual, and his work remains relevant to this day for that very reason.’ Of course what she means to say—in her infinite wisdom—is that Shakespeare is for everyone, but you don’t need some condescending blowhard to tell you that.

Now I would never dare to think that a piece in The New Yorker is not aware of its own ironised irony, but it does rather end up suggesting that The New Yorker knows best, and they say Shakespeare is for everyone.

Of course Shakespeare is for everyone. Yes, Shakespeare is for the academic Shakespeareans and the English teachers, and the play-readers and the playgoers, and the renowned thespians and the novice actors everywhere who strive to perform his characters.

Shakespeare is also for the modern film and TV watchers; the little kids who only know the illustrated stories; the students who read the plain English versions because they struggle with the language; that girl who hates Shakespeare but loves Leonardo DiCaprio; that guy who, from all of Shakespeare, only knows the line ‘To be or not to be’.

And Shakespeare is for every single would-be critic, on every level, everywhere.

Shakespeare is the most popular, performed, adapted, studied, translated, quoted and critiqued writer in the history of the world. Shakespeare is the bloody Bible of English Literature and forms the very foundation of the modern English language. Shakespeare is everywhere. You want to say something about Shakespeare? Have at it.

And don’t worry, The New Yorker says it’s OK. Or did they?