George Washington University Shakespeare and the Double Man Author(s): Thomas F. Connolly Source: Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 1, No. 1 (Jan., 1950), pp. 30-35 Published by: Folger Shakespeare Library in association with George Washington University Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2866204 . Accessed: 16/06/2014 17:48 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. . Folger Shakespeare Library and George Washington University are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Shakespeare Quarterly. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions SHAKESPEAREAND THE DOUBLE MAN By THOMAS F. CONNOLLY I Hamlet and the Double Man HAT is the value and meaningof Hamlet'smadnessin Shakespeare's play? Of course the poet was following his sources and brought his hero's madnessover from them as he did so much else, but it is changed in the process. This change has led to some discussion as to whether Shakespeare was not in this case following his source rather automatically, without too much regard for the pertinence, to his work, of some of the aspects of the older plays. It is pointed out that in the earlier treatments of the legend the madness is a defensive measure against the suspicions of the king, while in the Shakespeareversion there is no need for such evasion since there is no suspicion; that, in fact, such suspicion as is generated is the result rather than the cause of his apparentmadness, and that it is therefore not required by the plot as Shakespearehandles it. Perhaps it is required by something other than the plot. It does serve as the excuse for some of Hamlet's more pointed speeches, speeches which are, ". . . of a happiness that often madness hits on, which reasonand sanitycould not so prosperouslybe delivered of" (I, ii). This speech in itself gives a hint of the obvious and immediate dramatic advantage in having a hero of unsound mind: he may speak more freely, indulge in the more fantastic ironies safely. This could be justificationenough, but an examination of the other tragedies, beginning with Julius Caesar, indicates that there may be more to it than this. What appears in each of these plays is that Shakespeare employs a single device to enhance the irony or tragedy of the hero's situation: he gives him an alter ego, a familiar spirit. The immediate function of the familiar may vary with the needs of the individual play, but certain things may be said about it which would be true of all of its different appearances: it may be a creature (or several) of good or of evil, but it is nearly always sardonic and cynical. It may mock with excellent advice as does Lear's fool, or deceive as lago does, or goad to crime as do Jago, Lady Macbeth, the three Witches, and Cassius, but beneath these differences its essential characteristicsremain the same: the alter ego is always complex as opposed to simple in nature, practicalratherthan idealistic, and always, sooner or later, a little more or less than sane. Though the readerwill no doubt think of certain additions and inevitable qualifications,a list of these alter egos would read something like this: Julius Caesar: Brutus-Cassius. Hamlet: Hamlet-his own mad side. This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions SHAKESPEAREAND THE DOUBLE MAN 31 Othello: Othello-Iago. Lear: Lear-his "bitterfool". Macbeth: Macbeth-his wife and the three witches. By way of further definition, the two sides of the double man are these: one is brave, honorable, strong, inclined to be conventional and not too bright, while the other is the devious characteralready described, who places intelligence, even a dark intelligence, above mere honor. His problems too may be considered as variations on a single theme: the hero is in a position where he must decide whether to force an issue or wait and see what is going to happen. It is this which makes Lear the most tragic figure. When the play opens he has already decided to give up his power, to evade the making of decisions, and the rest is his punishmentfor making this choice. Talk about Shakespeare's failure in not fully motivating Lear's move is beside the point; this is not a play about the making of a choice but of the consequencesof one alreadymade. In suggesting that this series of plays may be rewardingly studied as variationson this theme of the double man, there is no intention to imply that they are nothing more, or even that they were conceived as such, but that the theme was one which struck Shakespeare,one which he could not keep out of his later plays. The chronologicalorder of the plays leads to such an impression, since there seems to be a crystallisationof the idea taking place. In Julius Caesar, the first of the series, the situation is not quite so dear cut, the antithesis not so striking, and Cassius, though he is envious, devious, and "thinks too much", is much too sane; his evil is conventionallymotivated comparedto that of Iago. What does not appear in this play shows up, as a gift from the sources, in the next one in order, in Hamlet. One characteristicof the sardonichalf, and an important one, is his real or apparent madness, which may range from the jibes of Lear's bitter and beloved fool to the strange, incompletely motivated evil of Iago. He is that side of man which is hidden from the light of day, but which cannot be denied. He is the not-quite-normal,and yet the full figure of the tragic man is empty without him. Under the special privilege many societies have granted to the insane or eccentric,he may take certain liberties with logic; he may have flashes of illuminating insight which outpace the less spectacular ploddings of the sane; he may see certain uncomfortable truths which the sane are too sane to see and speak them out in the form of seeming doggerel or veiled oracular statements. He is in fact what is now called the subconscious, though in this case the clinical jargon is unnecessaryand perhaps too specially connotated. In every case but that of Hamlet the alter ego appears separately upon the stage. In Julius Caesar he appears but is not completely realized: in Hamlet the all-important madness is added and the stage is set for Othello. Hamlet is the double man in one package and he must therefore talk to himself, be deceived and mocked by himself. He is mad because he must be his own fool and, like many of the others, he is "but mad north-northwest." Fortinbras,Laertes and Horatio might be suggested as candidates for the role of alter ego for Hamlet. They are, however, foils of a more obvious type; each in his own way is an example of what Hamlet could be but is not: the This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions 32 THE SHAKESPEAREQUARTERLY active and unquestioning soldier, the man who is able to act directly, and the solid, "normal"person. They are good dramatic foils and point up aspects of his character,but simple contrast is not enough. This can be shown in reverse by comparing each of them with Jago, for example. There is something ini Hamlet which plays an lago role, something which leads him to doubts and rationalizations and eventual defeat, and it is not to be found in any of the three men mentioned. The only counterpart in Hamlet for such a figure as Lear's fool is to be found in Hamlet himself. The mockery, the derision, the foolishness and the mad wisdom are mixed in him. It is true that contrast is one of the functions of the alter ego, but the contrast is that of what may be called the "day" and "night" sides of man, and not that of different types of men. What the sardonic half says to the hero in any of these plays might in a modern novel be suggested by the stream-of-consciousnesstechnique or by the use of dreams. The anxieties of Hamlet, the temptations by Lady Macbeth, the baseless suspicionsof Othello, are the sort of thing suppressedby the "waking consciousness",by that side of man which accepts the conventions as the facts of life. In Macbeth both his wife and the witches represent these unconscious motivations. The witches delude as reverie does, by falsely true promises of success, and Lady Macbeth by her stubborn refusal to foresee moral consequences. This, the latest of the series, seems the most deliberate and comIn the beginning Macplex. Recall the X-like crossing of the plot in AMacbeth. beth is the one with the imagination; he quails before the deed because he can envision it before it occurs. His wife complains of what she calls his weakness because she is incapable of being appalled by an event which has not yet taken place. But after the murder their positions are reversed: Macbeth, fresh from the crime, is laconic, even ironic, in his answers to Lennox. He says, "T'was a rough night." The Lady, faced by the actual fact, soon goes mad. It is then her turn to make the speech about blood on the hands. In other words, as far as Macbeth is concerned,his "evil" side has taken command. The prodding of the wife is no longer needed and she drops from sight for most of the rest of the play. To repeat, the problem confronting the main figures in these plays is that of action versus inaction. The double man is man in the face of the "powers that be", and they may be within or outside of him. If he abdicatesbefore them, as Lear did, they pelt him with mud. If he rushes them as did Macbeth, who had only to wait out the prophecy to be safe, they kill him. If he trusts them they delude him, as with Othello and Macbeth. And finally, even to hedge can be fatal: Hamlet. To repeat, there is no intention here to imply that these plays are reduced to a formula by this view of them, or that any other problems treated in them are superficialor secondary.It is offered rather as a point of view which lends a unity to them without in any way limiting their individuality; which answers certain questions which can be answered only by taking the series as a whole, in the same way that a painter's retrospective exhibition throws light on some of the unsolved problems contained in his earlier works. When Hamlet is considered by itself, his madness may legitimately be This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions SHAKESPEARE AND THE DOUBLEMAN 33 thought to be nothing more than a valuable bit of stage business, adding to the mystery and interest of the character.This it is indeed, and as such it is quite justified. The fact that it can be seen to be something more is an addition to and not a twisting of the sense. For example Shakespeare'sindebtedness to Montaigne's "Renaissancescepticism"; for that aspect of Hamlet's character can be admitted and yet said to be only half of the picture. Hamlet's answer to the optimistic surety of the Renaissance is contained in his familiar lines to Horatio (I, v), "There are more things in heaven or earth, Horatio, than are dreamedof in your philosophy." One must rememberthat these words are addressed to the one man who stands for the rounded, healthy, human personality. This is the answer of medievalism to the Renaissance, the line which could well have been the motto of the Romanticmovement in its reaction to the sterility of the later neoclassicism, the neo-classicism which owed so much of its being to the France of Montaigne, the France which, long after Goethe, had so much difficulty in understanding Shakespeare. There is not much difference in thinking of the split in the characterof Hamlet as being that between the conscious and the subconscious,or between the Renaissance and the medieval man, or for that matter the flesh and the spirit or the soldier and the artist. The conception is not so limiting: all that is stated is that one side is of the day and the other of the night.The Renaissanceended by stressing the conscious overmuch;it pinned all its hopes upon it, and, to use a familiar simile, the conscious part of the human mind is like the exposed part of an iceberg, while most of the mass lies submerged.Shakespeare'strue worth does not lie only in his being a great figure of the Renaissance,but in the fact that he did not succumbto it, that he recognized the importanceof the submerged mass. Similarly, when Othello is considered alone, someone usually raises the question of the motivation of Jago. Does envy alone account for his unmitigated evil? He seems to be enjoying it for its own sake. Actually it is unexplainable in terms of normalcy. The. motivation of Othello is what must be explained and this is done by pointing to lago, who is the prime mover. He is the sardonichalf of Hamlet running rampantand Othello is too much the fool, more so even than Lear, to take the play out of his hands. For this reason it is the warped logic of lago which dominates the scene completely until near the ending of the play, the continuing success of his insanity making it appear almost sane. II The Double MAain Western Literature To insist that the theme of the double man is uniquely in Shakespeare would overstate the case. The theme of the double man is one of the oldest in the literature of Western Europe, spoken or written. It is the essence of the Faust legend and appears in serio-comicform as the tale of Don Quixote and Sancho. Shakespeare,Cervantes, and Goethe have more in common than their being the giants of their respective literatures; they rise above them only because they have descended to find the common source beneath them. lagroand Othello are closely related to Mephistopheles and Faust, and the four find their ancestryin the medieval division of the "spirit and the flesh." It is no accident that the leaders of the Romantic movement, with the revival of interest in the This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions 34 THE SHAKESPEAREQUARTERLY darker side of the human personality, all turned to the middle ages and to Shakespeare,whether they lived in England, Germany or France. The tradition is still very much alive. When Emerson, among others, broughtthe Romanticmovement to America, two of his attentive listeners were Hawthorne and Melville. Each discarded most of the transcendentalismhe brought with it but kept what was essential. Hawthorne's studies of the conflict between the "heart and the head" and the spirit and the flesh are still consideredto be peculiarlyAmericanor even Puritanby those who look for no more than personal "influences."His Ethan Brand is Faustian complete to the fire which awaits him at the end, and his crime is the same, ambition and intellectual pride. Melville's indebtedness to Shakespeare is of course more obvious. The soliloquies of Ahab in Moby Dick are often in iambic pentameter and Shakespearean in tone and setting. The connection is more than verbal: there is a great similarity between Ahab and Lear. Both are blasted oaks; both have given up what is sweet in life to go out and face a storm. Lear has his Kent and Ahab has Starbuckto remind him that what he is doing is madness. (These are not alter egos, but symbols of the world of common sense which both men have left behind.) But these are merely the hints which should tell one to look for a deeper kinship between the two mad kings. (Ahab too is a king; he has Atharpoon as a scepter and wields it as such.) That Ahab and Lear are so alike makes Melville's point all the sharperbecauseAhab is not a twin but a mirrorimage of Lear; he is Lear in reverse. Lear is destroyed because he gives up his power and manhood; Ahab because he will recognize nothing but power. He has his familiar in the dark Fedallah, the mysterious Oriental who is describedaptly as a creatureof darkness,who remainsfor most of the trip hidden in the hold. There is the suggestion that Ahab and Fedallah share some esoteric wisdom for which they have been willing to give up the green earth, the "insular Tahiti" which Melville says each man carrieswithin him. Reminiscentof the witches in Macbeth, there is a fortune teller who tells Ahab the same kind of "truelie", leading him to believe that he can die only by hanging. The study has been continued, most notably and deliberately by Thomas Mann, whose Doctor Faustus is just the latest of a series devoted to the problem of the divided man, the problem of the artist against the world or against himself. Thomas Wolfe called his wandering and insatiable protagonist "Faustian."JamesJoycein Ulysses tells of Dedalus, Leopold and Molly Bloom. Dedalus is all Jesuitical intellect on the one side of the modest hero Bloom, while Molly is obviously the flesh. The list of examples could be multiplied but each one would demand some qualificationand defense, and those already mentioned should indicate that the theme is a continuing one. They are mentioned becauseit should be possible to use these works as we have used the series of Shakespeare'stragedies for the light they throw upon Hamlet, and perhaps arrive at a clearer statement of the nature of the underlying myth. The superficialcharacteristicsof the Romantic movement have by now been rubbedoff by the passage of time (the noble savage, nature always beautiful, the sickly Chattertontype of hero), and for this reason many critics have maintained that the movement itself is ended. Most textbooks give the This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions SHAKESPEAREAND THE DOUBLE MAN 35 date of its death as 1837, which is neatly enough the date of Emerson'saddress The American Scholar. The "Nature" of Melville, like that of Shakespeare,is both good and evil. The calm and beautiful sea is full of starving sharks. Hell is always just beneath Ahab's feet, and the devil right by his side, as it was for those who composed the original Faust legend, when the Gargoyles were placed on the sides of the cathedrals as constant reminders of how far away was God and how near were all the shapes and kinds of devils. The Mary cult was the natural outgrowth of such a state of mind, an intercessorbeing needed to plead man's case, something human in the divine household. This is not a Christianmyth in the currently accepted sense of the word but seems rather to have been a reaction to a stern and unearthly dogma. The Christianideal, as taught by the various churches,held that the flesh was evil, the "spirit"good. In this myth, on the other hand, the constant insistence is on the opposite: the spirit which appearsin it is nearly always evil and of the underworld,while the flesh is salvation, and the flesh is usually female. In Joyce's Ulysses it is Bloom's return to Molly and her final acceptance of him which make this the one happy ending in all the studies of the subject.The implication seems to be that it is the only possible happy ending. It is the one which is offered to Ahab by Starbuck,which his pride will not permit him to accept. (It should not be necessary at this point to mention Lear's renunciation of Cordelia.) There is Marguerite in Faust, Ahab's absent wife, and Hester in the Scarlet Letter. (It was not Hester who ruined Dimmesdale, but his Puritan denial of her.) The question is the same in all of its various forms. Shall Ahab follow Starbuckback to his wife, or listen to the whispers of Fedallah? Shall Othello believe Desdemona or his Mephistopheles? Where the woman does not appear, or where as in Lady Macbeth she chooses masculinity, the story is worked out by the man alone. And for a reversal, for sheer play, the master offers you Caliban and Ariel, and in his role as magician pokes fun at what here at least are all too obviously the "spirit"and the "flesh." Brooklyn, New York This content downloaded from 185.44.78.129 on Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:48:05 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions