McGonagall was probably the only poet of his day who could read even solemn obituary poetry for princes and kings and reduce the audience to laughter, ribald songs, obscene catcalls, and general hell-raising. Most of his performances were given in working-class public houses where people came to eat, drink and be merry. They wanted light entertainment, humour, and popular songs, not sycophantic hymns of praise to the detested aristocracy who lorded it over them and lived in palaces while they lived in slums and slaved in sweatshops.

McGonagall was the biggest wannabe that ever tried to endear himself to the upper classes, despite his own humble origins. He also harassed his audiences regularly with prudish, turgid sermons against the evils of drink and other licentious forms of debauchery. This did not go over well in public houses, because people were there to get drunk and debauch themselves, hopefully.

McGonagall was so utterly arrogant, serious, pompous, and seemingly oblivious to all negative reaction to his "craft" that he would read manfully on in the most weighty fashion while people hurled fruits and vegetables and made every effort to ridicule him. Really quite an extraordinary situation. He continued to wave the red flag in front of the irritated (yet amused) bull that was his public, regardless. This led to riotous situations. On some occasions McGonagall was siezed bodily, struggling desperately, and carried out into the streets on the backs of the crowd, amid much ribald merriment. While performing a scene from MacBeth with a large claymore (sword) he swung it around so vigorously that the entire orchestra fled the pit, as did the first seven or so ranks of the audience at the front. With swings of the sword he viciously chopped up various vegetables thrown at the stage. He was at the time playing BOTH characters in the scene in question (probably MacBeth dueling with MacDuff or whoever it was....).

Never was a man more at odds with his audience and his own class of society, never did he provoke greater reaction, never was he more oblivious to the actual circumstances he was provoking.

There remains a slight, obscure possibility that McGonagall was one of the greatest deadpan humourists in history...and knew exactly what was going on...but if so, he never gave away the game.