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Jessica Barnes
July 15th, 2001
Eng 378
Strickland
“Jealousy can work as it does in this tragedy partly because of its complex entanglement with
the sense that Iago so carefully nurtures in Othello of his own marriage as an adulterous
transgression”
-Michael Neill
“Unproper Beds: Race, Adultery, and the Hideous in Othello”
Othello is a play about multiple subjectivity: it compounds race, sexuality, betrayal and
jealousy into a tragedy that is unlike any other Shakespearian text. Othello leaves no wrapped up
remembrance of the dead, no pageantry or clear cut moral tale because its subjects are not
simplistic, but ambiguous and sliding. And while we cannot wholly engage in Othello without
confronting all of its parts, it is also a discussion that cannot fully be developed here. And so this
paper will concern itself with the notions of jealousy and adultery within the context of Othello.
These notions though, hold the foundation of the play itself, for they are the fulcrums on which
the plot turns. Othello, driven to madness through jealousy and adultery, serves as Iago’s subtle
motivation for manipulation. But I would argue that Iago’s passing comments about Emilia’s
faithlessness serves as more then an oblique referent to his plans, instead it functions to make
Othello’s madness mirror Iago’s own questions about Emilia’s infidelity. Here, then, Othello acts
as a doubled mirror figure for Iago.
This doubling of masculine jealousy, I believe is implicit in the play though not, it would
seem, in all productions. In the 1995 film adaptation, directed by Oliver Parker and starring
Kenneth Branagh as Iago, this notion of jealousy doubled is confronted more overtly then in the
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comparison of the 2001 Illinois Shakespeare Festival’s stage production. It is precisely because
this passing motivation is so fleeting that it is often times ignored. But Emilia’s supposed
infidelity with Othello prompts Iago’s actions long after Cassio has been relived of duty. If, as it
has been argued, Iago’s motivation turns on the anger he feels at being overlooked for promotion,
then the action of the tragedy would seem to stop once Cassio’s drunken escapades have been
punished. But the manipulation continues and it does so, I believe, because of Iago’s mounting
anger and madness over the supposed affair between Emilia and Othello, for as Othello laments
to Iago, “What you know, you know.” But the backslide of this argument is that neither man
implicitly knows the truth. And as Othello falls into his jealousy rage, we see that it is an abyss
that Iago already occupies.
Both relationships mirror each other even to the end when both men, Othello and Iago, who
have suspected faithlessness in their wives, kill their wives in a masculine fit of rage. And while
we are privy to what Othello has seen to convince him of Desdemona’s infidelity, we are not
aware of Iago’s reason for suspicion. We are left, it would seem, to imagine that Iago’s burden of
proof is also the result of misunderstanding and miscommunication just as Othello’s is, and yet
we are aware from the beginning that Othello suspicion is confirmed through Iago’s
manipulation. The question, then, is does Iago create this situation because of jealousy? Is he
knowingly constructing this madness for Othello because it is a place of madness that he himself
occupies? I believe that it is, for both of these men create this conflict through construction of a
feminine ideal. As Carol Thomas Neely explores in “Women and Men in Othello”, “[T]he men
see the women as whores and then refuse to tolerate their own projections” (228). For it is the
fear of cuckoldry that Iago and Othello both abhor that sets them on to their gruesome ends. This
notion of adultery functions as a cultural imperative on which the whole play turns. This
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impetrative forms “[…] the nexus of a whole set of ideas about adultery upon which Othello’s
tragedy depends -culturally embedded notions of adulteration and pollution that are closely
related to the ideas of disproportion and monstrosity exploited by Iago” (Neill 407). But I argue
that these are not simply cultural tropes that Iago relies on to punish Othello, but instead the same
ideology that Iago has been sequestered in, the idea of the faithless wife and the masculine
implications of that. Iago’s fears are manifested through Othello as he manipulates notions of
female sexuality into “[…] contempt for women, disgust at sexuality, terror of cuckoldry, the
preference for literal death instead of metaphoric ‘death’” (Neely 217). Here Iago’s fears of a
faithless wife, and the consequences of that are brought to bare in Othello, creating in Othello a
mirrored double for Iago. For as Iago’s fears provide his motivation, so to do they dictate how he
constructs Othello’s downfall. The emotional slippery slope of distrust that Othello occupies is a
carefully constructed place that Iago has, and still does, know quite well. And yet while Othello’s
suspicions are confirmed through Iago’s manipulation, Emilia’s infidelity is left afloat,
functioning as the subtle foundation for the play, but never answered until the final scene.
Because these notions of adultery “[…] are linked by a web of association that operates a largely
subliminal level -or perhaps, more precisely, at the level of ideology - [it] makes them especially
difficult to disentangle and resistant to rational analysis” (Neill 407). But it is not only Iago’s
suspicion that draws us to look at his own marital relationship, but the speeches of Emilia in the
“Willow”(Act 4, Scene 3) and final death scene (Act 5, Scene 2) that shed even more ambiguous
light on the question of her faithlessness, although they confirm Iago’s
Throughout the play Iago’s suspicions are never spoken of overtly, they are subtly played out
in the speech of Emilia and the actions of Iago. For “[…] Iago never tries to ascertain whether
Emilia is promiscuous” (Neely 218). Yet Emilia herself hints at her own supposed infidelity at
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the same time that she exposes Iago’s. In the Willow scene “[…] we hear these women speak
with rare animation about a subject on which their husbands will not listen to them, or will
effectively silence them. Again the very fact of their speech is as important as what they say”
(Grennan 281). This is a place where the women find voice with one another, as they cannot with
their husbands, and while the conversations serves to reinforce Desdemona’s faithfulness, a fact
that we are already aware of, they only serve to create more shadows for the case of Emilia. For
Emilia seems to understand the notion of female adultery, as Desdemona does not, comparing it
to the faithlessness of husbands, of which only one is accepted.
Emilia’s speech then, acts as “[A] passionate defense of wives against male double standards,
it argues for women’s freedom in sexual matters, stressing the common humanity of sexual
natures of men and women. Behind its generality it is hard not to detect the pressure of personal
pain and sexual disappointment, her own anger and bitterness at Iago” (Grennan 281). Here
Emilia tears open the cultural oppositions of masculine and female infidelity. While her own
faithlessness, yet still in question, is not addressed completely, Iago’s faithlessness is exposed.
Here Emilia calls for a male accountability for infidelity.
What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
I think it doth. Is’t frailty that thus errors?
It is so too. And have we not affections,
Desires for sport, and frailty as men have?
Then let them use us well; else let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us so. (ll. 96-103)
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This speech recognizes the cultural gap between notions of male and female sexuality outside of
marital relations and argues against it. In as much as Othello’s character turns on the wrong done
to a husband, there is only Emilia’s confrontation of what adultery does to a wife. Even as the
world of Cyprus turns around them, they at least recognize the unequal standards to which both
are caught within. For while Othello is driven to madness by the thought of a faithless wife, such
drastic measures could not have been brought down on a faithless husband. But these speeches
do more then critique a gap in societal codes, it transgresses those codes through both the
discussion of male adultery and Emilia’s notion that a wife’s adultery is only an offshoot of her
husbands.
For Emilia “[…] it is their husbands faults/ if wives do fall. Say that they slack their
duties, / And pour out treasures into foreign laps;/” (IV.iii. 86-88). For her female adultery is a
direct result of male adultery, which only serves to cloud her own faith as a wife. For if women
fall because of the adultery of their husbands then Emilia is transformed into a woman whose fall
has been precipitated by the infidelity of her husband. Yet her speech does little to solidify an
answer to Iago’s charge of faithlessness. This speech could be seen to reinforce Iago’s
assumptions of Emilia in her defense of female sexuality and knowledge of the political power
that that sexuality brings. “who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a
monarch?” (IV.iii. 74-75) But this knowledge does not prove or disprove Emilia faithfulness, it
only serves to cloud, even more Iago’s subtle motivation. For while her speech portends much, it
is filled with a sort of ambiguity that only deepens the question of her fidelity. At the same time it
quite succinctly names that which at the heart of the play, the idea of jealousy that springs from
female faithlessness, even as she lays the blame for that faithlessness on the male characters. “Or
else break out in peevish jealousies, /Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us, / Or scant
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our former having in despite;/ Why, we have galls; and though we have some grace, / Yet have
we some revenge.” (IV.iii. 89-93). While these lines shed little light on Emilia’s fidelity, they do
serve to give her a defense if she was unfaithful. And yet her faithfulness is almost fully restored
in her death scene, where it could be seen that her defense of Desdemona’s chastity is a veiled
defense of her own.
The final death scene acts as a culmination of the jealousy that exists in the gap between
male and female sexuality. Here Othello, driven to madness by the idea of his wife’s
faithlessness murders her, an act repeated by his dark double Iago. And yet Emilia’s murder is
not quite as cut as Desdemona’s. Does Iago kill Emilia because he is convinced of her infidelity
or because she has outwardly defied him, an act of betrayal palpable and real, not just supposed?
Even this does not seem clear, but there is no denying that Emilia’s death at the hands of her
husband functions as the mirror of Othello’s actions. For if Othello has acted as Iago’s double
throughout, constructed within the realm of male jealousy, then Emilia’s death by Iago is a
reenactment of Desdemona’s. But while Desdemona dies alone, her final words conveying still a
sense of duty to her husband, Emilia’s murder comes at the end of yet another defense of female
chastity. And while on the surface this defense is for the murdered Desdemona, it also acts as a
veiled defense of her own faithfulness.
This defense works to accuse both Iago and Othello by starts of their own complicitness
within the deaths of Desdemona and the suspicion that sent Iago on his murderous mission. Just
as she informs Othello that he has been “abus’ed by some most villainous knave. / Some base
notorious knave, some scurvy fellow” (V.ii.139-40). So too does she defend herself against
Iago’s accusations: “Some such squire he was/ That turn’d your wit the seamy side without, /
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And made you to suspect me with the Moor” (V.ii. 145-47). Here, then Emilia’s defense of
Desdemona’s chastity turns on itself to become a defense of her own. Her rallied cries defend
Desdemona, “O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool/ Do with so good a woman?”
(V.ii. 234-35) as well as they defend herself. Ironically Emilia’s final speech is the only act of
resistance that we see. Throughout the play Emilia has occupied a submissive place in regards to
Iago, stealing Desdemona’s handkerchief, keeping his secrets and following his orders. Her only
resistant speech up to this point has only been uttered in the context of female intimacy. But in
this final scene Emilia ignores Iago’s orders, something she acknowledges even as she
transgresses them. “Tis proper I obey him, but not now/ Perchance, Iago, I will ne’er go home”
(V.ii. 197-98). And it is this transgression that both proves Desdemona’s innocence, and clears
her own name as well, but it is a transgression with a mortal conclusion.
The conclusion of this defense and transgression is, of course, Emilia’s death. Here the
gap between the sexual social codes of men and women is at its widest, especially for Iago. For
“Emilia’s confession is not just a refusal of obedience, it destroys plot and refutes his philosophy
[…] Iago’s Othello-like response to his wife’s betrayal is to call her a ‘villainous whore’ and stab
her in a vengeful fury, thus validating her confession and her epithet” (Neely 232). And yet the
damage has been done, and Othello is left with the knowledge that Iago has manipulated this
emotional whirlwind. This manipulation has acted throughout the play as a mirrored doubling of
Iago’s own jealousies and sexual ideology, which he blames on Othello. This motivation, though
subtle and ambiguous throughout now becomes clear when Emilia defends her chastity through
her defense of Desdemona. But it is a defense that Iago can not or will not hear and just as
Desdemona’s plea of innocence is ignored by Othello, so too is Emilia’s ignored by Iago. In the
end then, both marital relationships are marred and destroyed by the notion of adultery and the
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madness of jealousy that is its conclusion. And both relationships mirror each other in the final
end with the death of both Emilia and Desdemona at the hands of their husbands. This crossing
web of association’s function to create a doubling of plot, one occupying the center of the play,
and the other working at a more subtle and foundational level. But this double it seems is not
implicit within the production of the play itself.
Obviously productions of Othello owe much to directorial interpretation and those
interpretations effect how the relationship between Emilia and Iago is played out. Here I would
like to compare Parker’s1995 film adaptation of Othello and the 2001 Illinois Shakespeare
Festival production. While it must be accepted that some interpretation will be different owing to
the difference in medium between film and stage, there is a comparison here that can overlook
those differences. For between the two productions the relationship between Emilia and Iago, and
therefore the double of that relationship in Desdemona and Othello is treated very differently. In
the Parker version the portrayal of Emilia and Iago reinforces my argument, while the IFS
production does not leave that sort of impression. The differences between the two, I believe, lie
in the constructed actions between Emilia and Iago, though there are few, and how those
interactions are played out. It is also important to look at the construction of the character of Iago,
who acts either as the ultimate vice character who leaves little thought to motivation, or a
tormented and almost mad man whose motivation always seems to be foremost in his mid. These
interpretations play themselves out specifically in Iago’s aside to the audience and in the
handkerchief scene (III.iii. 275-362) with Emilia.
In the Parker’s version Iago’s torment seems to be obvious from the beginning, his
speeches are not tainted with the laughter and glee that the ISF production leaves. His
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manipulation of Othello is less evil then it is vengeful, and often Iago acts in the same way that
Othello does, tormented by what he suspects but does not know. His interaction with Emilia is
scant and violent. The exchange in the handkerchief scene is sexually charged and rough, where
Iago ignores his wife until she has produced that which he has coveted. Here also we need to
look at Emilia’s motivation. Since we have never seen the two together, it is confirmed by this
first appearance that Emilia is attempting in some way to win her husbands love. And while the
final cruel remark from Iago “Go!” is left out of the scene, it is not a scene that ends lovingly.
Yet Emilia’s ploy does not work as we see in Emilia herself who also seems to be tormented by
her own marital troubles, which become obvious in her conversations with Desdemona,
specifically the Willow and death scene. In this production the marital relationship of Iago and
Emilia does function as the dark double of Othello and Desdemona. Suspicion is cast forth from
Iago in such a way that his own questions about fidelity comes across subtly, acting as a
foundation for the space of madness that he constructs for Othello. Conversely, the ISF
production portrays Iago and his relationship with Emilia very differently.
The Iago portrayal of the ISF Othello is constructed, it would seem, as the ultimate vice
character. His evilness is more an effect of his person then any suspicion that he has of adultery.
His character acts in his own self-interest rather then in response to some supposed wrong. The
constructed place that he leads Othello into serves more for his own amusement then functioning
as a double of his own male suspicion. This character portrayal leads also into his relationship
with Emilia. At times their relationship seems almost loving, especially in their interaction
during Othello’s arrival and reunion with Desdemona on Cyprus. They both stand behind the
couple, holding hands and smiling. And again in the handkerchief scene their interaction is
happy, hinting at sexual compatibility until Iago’s “Go!” command. Emilia, in this production is
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also less unhappy within her marriage then is seen in the Branagh production. Her speech about
male infidelity is almost teasing mixed with tolerance, and she only breaks from that complicity
in the final death scene when the full extent of her husband’s duplicity comes to light. And her
death is seen more as punishment from Iago for disobeying him, then a jealousy born out of
suspicion. This production left alone the association between the two marital relationships,
seeing them as separate entities rather then linked or doubled mirror images of each other as I
have argued.
These two productions of Othello prove that this double mirroring acts underneath the
revolving overt plot of the play, an act that can be ignored. Yet it is an act that is bubbling
underneath, a subtle foundation for action that makes Iago’s actions more human, and his
character less clear-cut evil. And while I have argued that this doubling is implicit within the
play, it does not always come to fruition within the interpretation of a production of the play.
While I seen an associated web of suspicion and adultery within the interaction of all four
players, it seems that the play can be interpreted more simplistically in congruence with the
morality play theme. Yet I must argue that this reading of the play leaves much woven within the
dialogue untouched, in other words, they relationships are never that simplistic. Rather Iago’s
motivation is that same suspicion that he leads Othello into and he leads Othello thus for a
reason. As Iago is tormented by thoughts of adultery and “what is known” so too does he
construct that punishment for Othello, and he does this for a reason that functions completely as
his own poetic justice.
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Works Cited
Grennan, Damon. “The Woman’s Voice in Othello: Speech, Song, Silence.” Shakespeare
Quarterly. 38.3 (1987): 275-292.
Neely, Carol Thomas. “Women and Men in Othello: ‘What should such a fool/ Do with so good
a woman?’” The Woman’s Part: Feminist Criticism of Shakespeare. Carolyn Ruth Swift
Lenz, Gayle Greene and Carol Thomas Neely ed. Chicago: University of Illinois Press,
1980. 211-239.
Neill, Michael. “Unproper Beds: Race, Adultery, and the Hideous in Othello.” Shakespeare
Quarterly. 40.4 (1989): 383-412.