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Shakespeare’s
King Lear begins with a process of division and definition: working
from the wholeness of a ‘map’ Lear divides the kingdom
in both rule and territorial space (1.1.35-7). At stake from the
very mention of a kingdom “divided /In three” is Lear’s
vision of “age…crawl[ing] toward death.” Lear
(re)casts himself with his own language into the role of a crawling
child beset by his own mortality. The king bows to death and daughters—upsetting
the hierarchy of father-daughter and king-subject. Ironically, Lear
attempts to assert his symbolic or abstract authority over any/everything
just as he “divests us” of the state. As critic Jeffrey
Stern asserts, the “love trial” that ensues is an attempt
to have his daughters publicly announce their love for Lear, but
also monstrously resembles marriage vows. Thus, King Lear begins
with a troubled state, one complicated by concerns of division,
authority, love, and gender. The madness that besets the ‘divested’
king engages directly Lear’s own anxieties about female sexuality
and control. Indeed, the fear of the female and the ‘nothing’
that comes from Cordelia’s mouth (equated with genitals) threatens
to destabilize all meaning. The fear of the Other (the female and
the French) is complicated by the fact the body often incorporates
parts of the Other—confusing and even collapsing the difference
that is necessary for rule/authority. However, King Lear does in
fact attempt a recovery from the landscape of madness by mapping
out its various forms: both the body and the state are charted and
defined in a way that makes sense out of madness and asserts control
in the face of chaos. At stake for the “realm of Albion”
represented by King Lear is the very hierarchy that it depends upon:
the unity of the state (and body) relies upon a conceptual fragmentation
into clearly defined roles or parts. The tension remains between
a desire for unity and the need of distinction to create such a
unity—the fragmentation must be constantly erased in order
to assert the natural self/body/state.
(RE) Definition: Shattered Language
Lear starts the disconnection between word and sense: "His
decision to retain the name but to forsake the function of king,
and at the same time to make his daughters his mothers, inverts
the oedipal law of participation in the social order. Thus he
engenders a dispensations of...empty words and primitive, even
monstrous, hunger." (Stern 302). Lear moves from being an
active author(ity) of the state to a passive child that asks to
be fed by his daughters Regan and Goneril. The reversal from scripting
to consuming is a crucial one that is highlighted by other characters
in the play. Edmund is perhaps the most sinister and compelling
example of the power to (re)define the sense of words. As a writer
(of letters and names), Edmund attempts to redefine several powerful
words (legitimate 1.2.16-21; unpossessing and bastard (2.1.65-77).
Edmund literally scripts the voices of others (Edgar’s ‘hand’
is impersonated) in order to take control of language and sense.
Glouchester, convinced by Edmund’s “inventions,”
changes his own text: this father also claims he “would
unstate myself” (1.2.98) and ultimately erases his own child
by saying “I never got him” (2.1.79). Glouchester
acts as a mirror of Lear—both are deceived by a belief in
the truth or stability of external representation (spoken and
written text). The degree to which ‘social order’
is transgressed and inverted leads to physical and psychological
madness. Lear’s madness seems to authentically match renaissance
doctor’s accounts (whereas Edgar’s takes on the form
of ‘popular’ or fictional accounts) and oddly casts
him as a female (Bennett 141).
Madness: Historical Context and Mapping the Sexed Body
The Fool repeatedly attributes female body parts to Lear and as
early as Act I, scene 4, the Fool reveals the reversals of identity:
“thou madest thy daughters thy mother” and thus “thou
hast pared thy wit o’both sides, and left nothing i’the
middle’ (166-189). Both Kent and the Fool focus on ‘differences’
and fail to convey to Lear a distinguishing eye. Instead, Lear’s
wit is scripted as empty female genitalia with “nothing
i’the middle.” Lear names his own madness “Hysterica
passio” (2.4.55), representing his madness in a way that
suggests an official scientific terminology for his condition
and also tellingly uses a name associated with females. Lear’s
words script him as “a male hysteric, [he] fears that he
harbors within himself the internal organs of the despised female
body" (Rudnysky 295). The words ‘hysterica’ and
‘mother’ name associated maladies: “Hysteria,
thought to be caused by a malfunction of the womb, was called
familiarly 'the mother,' as in Lear's passionate attempt to master
his imminent madness...Like the rising gorge to indicate vomiting,
the rising 'mother' is an unpropitious physiological sign"
(Charney 451-2).
While it was understood in Shakespeare’s time that only
women had wombs, anatomical illustrations of the time suggest
that there was an understanding of woman’s internal structures
as derivative from or correspondent to the male’s (Laquer
81). The wide proliferation of anatomical illustrations and the
appearance of some reports on the condition of madness suggests
an attempt to control and know:
By theorizing and representing madness, the Renaissance gradually
and with difficulty began to try to separate human madness from
the supernatural...and from the sheerly physical...and began to
try to map the normal, 'natural', and self-contained secular human
subject. Attempting to define what remained, the period began
to separate mind from body, man from woman, insanity from both
sanity and from other types of aberrance such as poverty, heresy,
and crime.
(Neely 318-9).
In anatomical illustrations women’s sexual organs were visually
mapped out in a way that seeks to make them legible to the male
viewer: “A whole world view makes the vagina look like a
penis to Renaissance observers” (Laquer 83). The female
body became a text that was used rhetorically—in King Lear
the tension of differences is perhaps most striking over the issue
of sex itself. The idea of a ‘monster’ or illegible
body is at the center of patriarchal fear: at the trial scene
from the quarto version, Lear calls for them to “anatomize
Regan; see what breeds /about her heart” (3.7.76-7). Female
love, sexuality and innards are a mystery to Lear that he desires
to rip apart in order to discover the science behind her workings.
Albany shares Lear’s desire to tear apart the female body
to reveal the monstrous innards: “Were’t my fitness
/To let these hands obey my bood, /They are apt enough to dislocate
and tear thy flesh and bones” (4.2.63-6). Although division
of the body was seen as a sort of violation (legally troubling
and used also as torture), the dissection can be revealing of
the darkness imagined inside the body. There is a sort of mastery
to be found in ‘knowing’ the body piece by piece:
“To know our enemies’ minds, we’d rip their
hearts, /Their papers, is more lawful” (4.6.259-60). The
connection of meaning, sense, or emotion to physical parts of
the body is mapped out by physiological studies of the time: "the
soul [is placed] in the brain, [a theory which] was known to Shakespeare"
(Cruttwell 85). Anatomical illustrations can also suggest a secularization
of the body, a movement that is also present at the heart of the
play: “One sees the tension...[between] a craving for freedom
and a deep need for control…in Edmund's ridiculing of astrology...[he]
is not only criticizing a false belief, he is also throwing off
a spiritual control” (Cruttwell 86). As Cruttwell acknowledges,
the meaning of throwing off the astromonical beliefs is troubling
because of Edmund’s negative status within the play—while
it may not ultimately align with Shakespeare’s own perspectives,
the ‘throwing off’ does seem to give Edmund new access
to individual control and power.
Fragmentation: Powerful Organs
The literal fragmentation of the body is the anxiety of King Lear,
but it is also a source of (corrupt?) power. Body parts resonate
with sexual tension, but can also misrepresent the whole when
they are ventriloquized by another or do not perform as expected.
When the body is fragmented and is expected to perform metonymically,
strange and monstrous scripts can flourish. The process begins
and ends with Cordelia’s mouth. In "The Absent Mother
in King Lear," Coppelia Kahn convincingly argues that "The
play is full of oral rage: it abounds in fantasies of biting and
devouring, and more specifically, fantasies of parents eating
children and children eating parents...When Cordelia doesn't feed
[Lear] with love, he thinks angrily of eating her" (302).
In a troubling gesture, Lear calls for Cordelia to pledge all
of her love to him before she is to be married—Cordelia
instead chooses division. Her refusal to speak for Lear opens
the wound in the text out of which monsters will pour: “Nothing,
my lord. /Nothing? /Nothing. /Nothing will come of nothing, speak
again.” (1.1.87-90). She refuses to stage her love, calling
forth a grotesque vision by claiming that she “cannot heave
/My heart into my mouth” (1.1.91-2). Mouths continue to
figure (alarmingly separate from the rest of the body in description)
throughout the text, partly due to the connection between mouths
and vaginas, silence and sexual control. During the first act
of the play, Cordelia’s focus upon the mouth and the eye
mirrors the mapped out divisions of the state—both carry
deep anxieties over accurate and stable representations. While
Cordelia’s own tongue refuses public representation because
her love cannot be translated into language, she is able to see
the contrasting nature of her sisters commercially appealing bodies:
Goneril and Regan wield “A still-soliciting eye, and such
a tongue /As I am glad I have not” (1.1.233) while “my
love’s /More ponderous than my tongue” (1.1.78). As
the name ‘King’ is stripped of its significance, Lear
finds that daughter Regan “struck me with her tongue”
(2.4.157) and he begins to understand the danger of calling women
to speak. Edgar also reiterates the dangers of mingling male body
parts with fiendish females: “Keep thy foot out of brothels,
thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender’s books, and
defy the foul fiend” (3.4.93-5).
BODY, LANDSCAPE AND TEXT: UNruly Significations
Lear’s concerns over female sexuality and control extend
outward to both land and national identity: "Denied mothering,
his rage is such that he would destroy the round maternal belly
of the very earth itself and abort its gestating contents"
(Stern 306). The storm that Lear experiences at the height of
his madness is connected intimately with the Other or the unknown:
[Lear] brand[s] the female dentata a 'suplhurous pit' [in 4.6.120-7]...
The anatomical references here retroactively warrant a sexual
reading of Lear's apostrophe to the storm as 'You Sulph'rous and
Thought-executing Fires'…Indeed, if the storm represents
nature as an unleashed female body wreaking its destructive havoc,
it seems plausible to interpret Lear's exhortation to blow 'Till
you have drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cockes'…as a depiction
of the endangered male organ. (Rudnytsky 300-1)
The smell of the ‘pit’ that is female genetalia marks
both as something monstrous. While Lear once upheld gender division
with his discussion of male anger versus female ‘tears,’
these categories begin to collapse as he justly finds that Regan
and Goneril are “not men o’their words” (4.6.103,
emphasis mine). A vision of them as something other than men,
results in a rescripting of himself as “not ague-proof”
and not “everything.” Facing emptiness as a body devoid
of signification, Lear crosses the borders to stand outside of
society, but there is something to be found in the unruled, empty
heath. Divested of clothing and sense to mark him as a King, Lear
is able to understand his own frailty and see his stability shatter
in the fierce storm of his fears: “Here I stand your slave,
/A poor infirm, weak, and despised old man” (3.2.19-20).
Lear’s broken body (3.1.282-4) and mental chaos/emptiness
are fully realized in the landscape and in Shakespeare’s
text, as even the diction devolves into “wild phonic stuff”
(Calderwood 6). Just as nothing can become something, something
can also become nothing: Lear is doubled as infantile (naked and
“child-changed”) and close to death (cold and mortal).
The paradoxical doubling is mirrored again by Shakespeare's style:
“Shakespeare does not merely divest Lear of his clothing;
he also strips his own theatrical art to a kind of nakedness”
(Calderwood 7). Just as Lear would destroy the earth’s rotundity
with a masculine thrust of thunder, he seems to regress to a point
of origin with both dress and language: “O! O!” (3.2.24);
“A king, a king!” (3.6.11); “So, so, so”
(3.6.84).
Unruled female sexuality is at the heart of his fear, as he cannot
control “his daughter's unbearable desire of the other,
of France. Thus he characterizes it horribly in imagery associated
with syphilis, in terms, that is, of the venereal infection Shakespeare's
countrymen called the French disease" (Stern 303). The figure
of France mirrors the national threat that was felt by England
in Shakespeare’s time. More stuff here… Interesting
in terms of taking the local and making it universal. what does
it mean for england's people/territory to become a map of universal
themes?
“any thing” out of Nothing: ReCONSTRUCTING Authority
In the Quarto version of King Lear, law functions as "a powerful
metaphor for man's attempt to order and control his expereince,
as in the trial on the heath in King Lear" (JDE 433). Just
as Cordelia is able to disrupt Lear’s ordered sanity with
her “Nothing,” control of the something that is created
by structure and language can make sense: “Man has developed
formal legal process to deal with disorder in society, [to] harness
the threat of chaos by constructing context within which we can
begin to control it. The trial ends the long, wild sequence on
the heath, and after it Lear, for the first time, is able to sleep"
(431-2). The fragmented body of Lear may be able to assume wholeness
again: “This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews”
(3.6.98). The love trial scene suggests that Lear “hath
ever but slenderly known himself" as he calls for a demonstration
of what should be a part of his own self-knowledge. Both Goneril
and Regan condemn Lear’s own blindness as "The best
and soundest of his time hath been but rash...." (I.i.292-95).
Lear begins to more critically interrogate himself and those around
him in a way that reveals a belief in mutability. “What
art thou?” becomes the crucial question of the text that
undoes any prior sense of stability. Words unravel: “Are
you our daughter?...Doth any here know me? This is not Lear…Who
is it that can tell me who I am?” (1.4.220-24). The words
king, daughter, fool, Lear all fall into question—and Lear
looks to others to tell him. As Edgar demonstrates, the power
to construct your own meanings is certainly something: “That’s
something yet! Edgar I nothing am” (2.3.21).
Mapping and Silence
King Lear begins the territorial division of his kingdom with
a visual representation of unity: “Give me the map there”
(1.1.16). The land is understood as made of differing parts that
would assumedly be represented on the complete map of ‘Albion.’
Lear finds it necessary to catalog the different aspects of each
piece:
Of all of these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with chaplains riched,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady… (1.1.62-5)
As the kingdom is represented in the abstract, Lear must point
to a “line” on the map that will serve as a symbolic
division of the state. Even within the “line” distinctions
are made between types of landscape, bounded together into a separate
‘whole.’ The categories with visual representation
give the King authority and control over the landscape and the
Lady. The ‘flaw’ in Lear’s own plan is his belief
in representation’s stable truth value. Anxiety and uncertaintly
appear immediately with Cordelia’s refusal publicly submit
to Lear’s (sexual/oral) control. The “Nothing”
that she speaks acts as a sort of psychological black hole: just
as the ‘divided’ state begins to unravel, so does
the image of the body and language. Lear, Albany and Edgar are
ultimately repulsed by the “pit” of the female and
speak misogynistic lines against women (“Like monsters of
the deep” (4.2.49). The unknown darkness that lies in the
sexual organs of the woman is something that Lear and Albany want
to excavate, but find that women are “shield[ed]”
by false exteriors. The king is given nothing by his monstrous
daughters and offered anything by other men: “You shall
have any thing.” Control and silence of the female body
a repeated enforcement at the end of the play, as order begins
to be restored: Albany confronts the sexual treachery of Goneril
by telling her to “Shut your mouth, dame, /Or with this
paper shall I stople it…Most monstrous! Oh” (5.3.154-158).
Female sexuality is fighting for freedom, but in a violent gesture
Albany suggests that he will silence and control it by shoving
something in the void. Cordelia’s lips haunt the play in
life and death, but her voice was mostly unheard: “Her voice
was ever soft, /Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in a woman”
(5.3.272-3). Order begins to be restored as Lear again knows his
daughter “as I am a man, I think this lady /To be my child
Cordelia” (4.7.70-1). And while all of the ‘monstrous’
characters who were able to achieve power from a system turned
on its head are dead, the system has still been shocked. The instability
will continue to haunt the ‘state’ as it remains wounded
and divided: “you twain /Rule in this realm, and the gored
state sustain” (5.3.319-20).
CONNECTION TO JACKSON
Shelley Jackson’s collection of short stories entitled The
Melancholy of Anatomy works through many of the naturalizing narratives
(of gender and sex) that Butler’s Gender Trouble addresses,
in a parallel effort to reject the idea of a subject outside (or
prior to) language and to call into being a different perspective
within the ‘matrix of power.’ Butler’s concept
of the body itself as a socially constructed ‘space’
is embraced by Jackson with just the sort of ‘hyperbolic’
eye that she suggests denaturalizes social narratives. Jackson’s
collection of stories also suggest that constructions have materiality.
Jackson’s experimental stories play with the performative
nature of scripting the body or embodying the script, enabling
her to unveil the construction behind the cultural narratives,
inviting the chance for reconfiguring narratives and bodies. Like
Butler, Jackson also uses texts against themselves in order to
create/reveal gaps in the natural scripts encircling them. Jackson
also plays with texts by fusing them in a recursive spiral that
parodies any sense of stability or ‘return.’ Jackson
engages Robert Burton’s The Anatomy of Melancholy, which
she quite literally turns on its head by instead moving to “spiritualize
anatomy.” The shock to the script—beginning with the
mere reversal of the title’s words—‘expands
rather than limits’ through altered repetitions. No escape
from the ‘naturalized’ and powerful narratives it
uses in changing the script is attempted by the collection, nor
does it call for a return to a ‘natural’ state. Melancholy
insists upon its own performativity through overt uses of film
directions and scene descriptions, taking on Butler’s critical
stance of “self-conscious” performativity. The collection
examines acts of constructing the subject (and the body) through
uncanny (laughable) juxtapositions of the ‘natural’
and supernatural. Akin to Butler’s vision of the masquerade
(without foundation), Jackson troubles ‘boundaries’
between body/language, material/immaterial, inside/outside. While
Jackson’s fiction may enact a denaturalization, Butler urges
caution with the ability to know the result of this rupture. Parody
and the hyperbolic are also upheld through enlarged sexual organs
and bodily excretions ‘writ large’ within Jackson’s
fictional world. How does the collection enact something different
than Butler’s description of the agenda of the genetic biologist?
Melancholy embraces an infinitely recursive sense of performance.
Jackson’s stories expose the ‘naturalization’
of the body as an infinite process of fictional construction used
for regulation (border patrol). Jackson applies Butler’s
theories to fictional genres serving to destabilize the ‘natural’
form of ‘distinct’ narrative genres. Jackson enacts
the sort of play and parody Butler envisions in Gender Trouble
to ‘denaturalize’ narratives of gender, sex, textual
form and the body. Jackson’s stories embrace materiality
to a degree that Butler’s text seems to refuse. The immaterial
and material are always already linked, but for Jackson the material
body (its parts) also has voice. Is Jackson’s move of giving
voice to the body part of the uncharted territory that Butler
calls for in the boundless realm of The Symbolic (not a closed
system)? Do material objects (the body) have voices and lives
of their own? Can we translate/hear the body’s voice—or
is this the melancholic failure that Butler and Jackson both stub
their toes on? What is the use of thinking through objects?
“The only way we can hope to understand what is happening,
or what has already happened, is by way of a severe and unnatural
dissociation of sensibility” (Birkerts 205).
Shelley Jackson's The Melancholy of Anatomy (MA) is a printed
collection of stories that hyperbolize the body and its "humors."
Her collection is experimental in form-including film direction,
intermission, reading notes, interviews, appendices, etc. Perhaps
less violently than her hypertext, MA defamiliarizes its readers
from traditional, internalized practices of reading. Ultimately,
Jackson shocks us with calm tone and scientific language applied
to 'understanding' the body--she rips open the body and looks
at it under a microscope to reveal the construction these 'natural'
things always (already) undergo.
The book enacts a sort of spoof on the sterilizing capability
of scientific language and often the way in which the body is
a socially constructed and regulated space. Issues of PLAY are
crucial to this piece! It is both playfully funny and a staging
of the body on an enlarged scale. The message is a critical one:
play with form and play with language can be methods for expanding
consciousness. "This is the real world, I said to myself.
Pay more attention to it" (MA 66).
Through Jackson's extensive use of 'perverted' vision in The
Melancholy of Anatomy, she takes body parts and explodes the socially
ingrained texts that go along with them. When the conventional
becomes wild, and the wild conventional--both seem to fall flat
as visions of 'reality.' Indeed, language, body and text all seem
to become fictional scripts that regulate power between people.
“A blue dildo is for remembrance, a red one for truth,
the rare silver dildo is for the first-born son on reaching his
majority. In ancient texts it may be seen that a dildo of Moroccan
leather is suitable for a lady of the merchant class, while her
husband may sport one of Cordovan leather. If it be made of pigskin,
the lady is said to be ‘high on the hog.’ Gentlewomen,
however, use ivory if their husbands can afford it…”
(MA 85).
While Joyce recognizes the fear that some have about the destabilization
of absolute signifiers, he finds that: "The fear of losing
the world is a fear of dismemberment; we close ourselves off into
the zipped, conservative ground of the male gaze and colonial
vista alike. Against such a fear of loss there is the countervailing
play of surfaces, the joy of several worlds at once, passing and
multiple"(94).
While reading Shelley Jackson's Patchwork Girl, it becomes clear
that the reader experiences problems of reading an electronic
text: its non-linearity and even the restraint in portability
are radically different than delving into most printed texts.
“The comparison between a literary composition and the fitting
together of the human body from various members stemmed from ancient
rhetoric. Membrum or ‘limb’ also signified ‘clause’”
("Body of the Text", PG).
Shelley Jackson’s texts raise consciousness—joining
in Haraway’s ‘spiral dance’ by shifting meanings
of reader/author and male/female through the vehicle of the body.
The body (and textual form) are exaggerated and hyperbolized in
a way that defamiliarizes the reader from some of our most internalized
ideologies (regulation and control of the body and the autonomous
self). Each text is an experimental fiction that through different
forms plays with the performative nature of reading and writing
the body. Jackson and her readers together rip open the scripts
we are familiar with to allow other patterns to take shape.
“What did they do? Well, isn’t it obvious? Someone
had to go down and clean out all that blood. In some parts of
town you can still see the hatches…The city called them
manholes, same as the other kind, but we right off renamed them
ladyholes, that being the cleanest version of the name I can report
to you, sir, and that was because we was almost all women who
did the work, women being small boned and, as I said less inclined
to get funny about the blood” (MA 142).
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