"The Knot Intrinsicate": From Dichotomy to Dialectic in Antony and Cleopatra by Mariah Robbins A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Degree of Bachelor of Arts with Honors in English WILLIAMS COLLEGE Williamstown, Massachusetts April, 2005 I would like to thank Bob Bell for his ideas, his continuous support, and most of all, for his friendship. I would like to dedicate this thesis to my Dad. Without his help, I could not have finished it. For a long time, the polarity of the Egyptian and Roman spheres in Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra has been a reliable and valuable means of perceiving the play's action and evaluating its characters. The dichotomy offers a structuring principle that the plot's ambiguity of motives and meanings refuses to provide. John Danby calls it "the trick of using the contraries," adding somewhat dismissively that such a dichotomous theme is "relatively an easy way of organizing the universe."' The idea of a straightforward opposition between Egypt and Rome dominated critical discourse until the last quarter of the twentieth century: "No matter how we regard the play," writes George Lyman Kittredge in his introduction to an edition published in 1966, "we must recognize that in it are mirrored two directly contrasting visions of life and conceptions of value: those of Egypt as opposed to those of Rome-the sensual and wasteful opulence of the East opposed to the cold, bare efficiency of the West. Egypt in this play stands for passion and human weakness, Rome for duty and self-denial: the world of the senses pitted against the world of reason and a fixed morality."2 This persistent critical concept of binary oppositions has more recently been complicated by the growing recognition of the ambiguity that surrounds the divide and blurs the distinctions between the categories: "The play may simplify itself into these national or racial or cultural dichotomies, and atfirst glance it seems easy to draw up a list," A. R. Braunmuller writes in a recent introduction to Antony and Cleopatra. "Thus, according to the Romans and some Egyptians some of the time, Rome represents honor John F. Danby, "A Shakespearean Adjustment," in New Casebooks Antony and Cleopatra, edited by John Drakakis (London: Macmillan, 1994), 33-55. 2 George Lyman Kittredge, ed., The Kittredge Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra (Waltham: Blaisdell Publishing Company, 1966), introduction. and duty while Egypt is a place of distracting sensual pleasure" (my italic^).^ ~edefining the terms, Terence Hawkes became the first to associate Egypt with the feminine and Rome with the masculine: "If Egypt emphasizes the body, one level of language, one sort of 'love,' and the concomitant womanly powers of Cleopatra, Rome is a place of words, another level of language, another kind of love, and of self-confident 'manly' prowess," he arguex4 Following the publication of Hawkes' essay in 1975, feminist critics wasted no time in thoroughly revamping the literature concerning the duality, finding a multilayered and fertile ambiguity in the play's portrayal of gender oppositions. Juliet Dusinberre points out the modern audience's implicit entanglement with conceptions of male and female in a play interested in highlighting and deconstructing those conceptions: "In a theatre where Cleopatra is played by a woman, that original boy actor's performance is complicated beyond measure by notions of the masculine and the feminine in circulation amongst a disparate and fragmented a~dience."~ Despite the qualifications of recent critics, many readers still locate the play's divide along the reasonlpassion faultline, and most critics see the split as an opportunity to find certainty in this highly illogical play. The dichotomization of Antony and Cleopatra's world provides an efficient structure for understanding, which may explain why many readers, audiences, and critics have clung for so long to the idea of the divided spheres; without this foundation, attempts to apply conventional logic or morality founder. Why is it, then, that this play defies complete understanding? While Hamlet, A. R. Braunmuller, ed., The Pelican Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, (New York: Penguin Group, 1999), introduction. 'Terence Hawkes, "'King Lear' and 'Antony and Cleopatra': The Language of Love," in New Casebooks Antony and Cleopatra, edited by John Drakakis (London: Macmillan, 1994), 101- 125. Juliet Dusinberre, "Squeaking Cleopatras: Gender and Performance in Antony and Cleopatra," in Shakespeare, Theory, and Performance, edited by James C. Bulman (London: Routledge, 1996), 46-67. Macbeth, King Lear, and Othello all exhibit a distinct murkiness, in these other tragedies "we are usually aware of a few central facts; and we usually have our moral bearings," Janet Adelman contend^.^ 1n Antony and Cleopatra, however, "almost every major action . . . is in some degree ine~~licable."~ Much Iike Enobarbus, we are denied our deep-seated desire to rationalize an intrinsically confusing situation. In the ensuing search for any shred of certainty on which to base our understanding, we might turn, like the lovers themselves, to a belief in reconciliation or synthesis, ignoring the play's inconsistencies and holding out hope for the peaceful coexistence of Egypt and Rome, feminine and masculine. Or we might, instead, cast our lot with Octavius, maintaining a stubboln belief in the essentialism of the categories and accepting the inevitability of continual explosive conflict. We might imagine Antony, in death, reaching a brilliant epiphany, an illumination that reveals the expanded dimensions of the all-encompassing feminine perspective and the possibilities of ideal mutuality and compatibility. Or perhaps we expect Cleopatra, through her suicide, to emblematize the dazzling multidimensionality and inclusive multiplicity of the Egyptian worldview. We might cherish hope that both protagonists die realizing the value of the other's viewpoint, or even that they ascend, in death, to a transcendent world of harmony above the mess of bifurcated reality. As a means of overcoming the play's ultimate contradictions, any of these approaches might plausibly be argued, and none of them are entirely incorrect; but they all require a certain amount of deliberate 'looking the other way' and scanting inconsistencies. Janet Adelman, The Common Liar: An Essay on Antony and Cleopatra (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1973), 14. ' Ibid., 15. Since Shaltespeare's motives and purposes are never more than implicit, we can only speculate why he so purposefully and systematically deprives us of logic and undermines our beliefs. Surely we are encouraged to look beyond the rigid, static categories that define the RomeEgypt dichotomy, to glimpse a world of softened, mutable gender constructions and belief systems-a complex dialectical reality where traditional logic, morality, and norms cease to apply. In its most basic sense, dialectic, as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary, means "the existence or working of opposing forces, tendencies, et~."It~ is almost impossible, however, to ignore the term's expanded, Hegelian implications. In the HegeIian sense a dialectic, as a process, is the overcoming of the contradiction between thesis and antithesis by means of synthesis; then, "the synthesis in turn becomes contradicted, and the process repeats itself until final perfection is rea~hed."~~ e ~ e l ' s definition, while useful, implies an achievable sort of peace, or transcendence, that may be reached through continued syntheses; in Antony and Cleopatra, however, there is no such reconciliation, no final synthesis. Shakespeare's vision reveals a "knot intrinsicate / Of life": a world of infinite possibility, where the viewpoints we had previously assumed to be bifurcated coexist, interweave, collide, and rebound, even penetrating the divide between life and death (v.ii.303-4).1° His vision encompasses the complications and contradictions of the play, and holds them in a vast, non-hierarchical space, where they retain their irresolvable nature. Any action may contain elements of the feminine and the The Oxford English Dictionary Online, S.V. "dialectic." The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy, s.v. "dialectic." lo John Wilders, ed., The Arden Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, (London: Routledge, 1995). All play references from this edition. masculine. No viewpoint holds more importance than another; nor do they exist in rigid, immutable compartments, separate and sterile.'' Who better to introduce the "infinite variety" of this world than the spectacularly theatrical, paradoxical, enigmatic, exuberant, and contradictory Cleopatra (II.ii.246)? Her vibrancy and variety of character precipitate the audience's expanded recognition of the "knot intrin~icate."'~O nly Cleopatra, with all her fascinating flaws, has the sheer strength of character to catalyze such a realization, and Shakespeare has left her the last act of the play for precisely this purpose. Though Octavius, the historical victor, is left standing, what remains with us is the vivid, unsettling image of Cleopatra, resplendently attended by her waiting women. Cleopatra's death is the last and the most disconcerting in a series of events and images designed to displace our beliefs-and to displace them to such an extent that, in our search for a new method of understanding, we glimpse the "intrinsicate" possibilities of a dialectical, rather than a dichotomous, perception. At strategic points throughout the play, Shakespeare includes popular-festive imagery of the carnivalesque and many instances of grotesque symbolism, often connected with Cleopatra, her body, and the Egyptian land. Milhail Balhtin's study of the carnivalesque, though primarily concerned " The nearest articulation of this argument is Danby's 1952 essay "A Shakespearean Adjustment." The first critic to find the meaning of the play in its dialectic and its disjunction rather than in some final unity, Danby writes, "The word 'dialectic,' of course, is unfortunately post-Hegelian. The thing we wish to point to, however, in using the word, is Shakespearean. In Antony and Cleopatra Shakespeare needs the opposites that merge, unite, and fall apart. They enable him to handle the reality he is writing about" (my italics). He goes on to argue, however, that Shakespeare's great 'trickery' in the play consists of giving us a universe that is made up only of the World (Caesar) and the Flesh (Cleopatra), and concludes, "There is no suggestion that the dichotomy is resolvable, unless we are willing to take the delusions of either party as a resolution." Danby, 33-55. 12 A.C. Bradley believed that Cleopatra was in the same category of character as Hamlet and Falstaff. "They are inexhaustible," he wrote. "You feel that, if they were alive and you spent your whole life with them, their infinite variety could never be staled by custom; they would continue every day to surprise, perplex, and delight you. Shakespeare has bestowed on each of them, though they differ so much, his own originality, his own genius." A. C. Bradley, Oxford Lectures on Poetry (London: Macmillan, 1923), 299. with the writings of Rabelais, illuminates the imagery of Antony and Cleopatra invaluably. These festivals, according to Bakhtin, had an overwhelming influence on every part of Renaissance culture: "The Renaissance is, so to speak, a direct 'carnivalization' of human consciousness, philosophy, and literature," he writes.13 By applying this Baltinian lens to an analysis of Antony and Cleopatra, this reading will consider the carnivalesque as a defiance of static hierarchical codes, with special attention given to grotesque bodily imagery as an instrument of social and structural destabilization. 14 "Carnival (and we repeat that we use this word in the broadest sense) . . . liberate[d] human consciousness and permit[ted] a new outlook," Bakhtin writes.15 The earliest audiences of Antony and Cleopatra would have surely been receptive to the underlying sense of disquiet, of struggle against political and religious authority, of purposeful unbalancing-however subtle-that carnivalesque and grotesque symbolism implied. It is crucial to take these implications into account when analyzing the play. l3 Mikhail Bakhtin, trans. Helene Iswolsky, Rabelais and His World (Cambridge: The M.I.T. Press, 1968), 273. 14 David Wiles' essay on the carnivalesque in A Midsummer Night's Dream points out several possible pitfalls of a strictly Bakhtinian analysis of any Shakespeare play: he writes first that Bakhtin's tendency is "to lump all festivals together . . . encourag[ing] us to see popular culture and the carnival grotesque as a more uniform entity than it is7'; second, that the aristocracy often manipulated carnival rites for their own benefit, creating a false ideology of 'authentic Englishness'; and third, that Bakhtin neglects "chronological minutiae" in favor of large-scale epochal changes, thereby overlooking important daily-life symbolism that appears in the carnivalesque. Wiles also argues that any Bakhtinian reading of one of Shakespeare's plays extracts the text "from its historical context of performance, and define[s] it as a self-contained and complete entity." Because my reading of Antony and Cleopatra uses a general Bakhtinian analysis in conjunction with an exploration of various other philosophical and Shakespearean concepts (in a larger attempt to demonstrate that previous notions of the play's Egypt-Rome dichotomy have been inflexible, passive, and creatively somewhat barren), rather than focusing solely on a detailed, carnival-based reading of Cleopatra, the difficulties that Wiles mentions have much less bearing on this argument. David Wiles, "The Carnivalesque in A Midsummer Night's Dream," in Shakespeare and Carnival: After Bakhtin, ed. Ronaid Knowles (London: Macmillan: 1998), 61-82. l5 Bakhtin, 274. Opposing the popular-festive stance is the oppressive mindset that Bakhtin calls "the old authority," which bears a striking resemblance to the stiff, compartmentalized hierarchy that Octavius attempts to maintain: The old authority and truth pretend to be absolute, to have an extemporal importance. Therefore, their representatives (the agelasts) are gloomily serious. They cannot and do not wish to laugh; they strut majestically, consider their foes the enemies of eternal truth, and threaten them with eternal punishment. They do not see themselves in the mirror of time, do not perceive their own origin, limitations, and end; they do not realize their own ridiculous faces or the comic nature of their pretentions to eternity and immutability.16 "Gloomily serious," declining both wine and laughter, Octavius refuses to partake in the revels on Pompey's galley; when he considers the prospect of parading Cleopatra through the streets of Rome, he declares the captured queen's spectacle "eternal in our triumph" (V.i.66). Perhaps most noticeably, he does not seem able to recognize his "origin, limitations, and end: he almost refuses to acknowledge that both Julius Caesar and the elder Pompey, paramount figures in his own past, were also Cleopatra's lovers. Of all Octavius's traits, keeping the boundary between Roman and Egyptian value systems rigid and conspicuous-in fact, creating an Egyptian value system that will contrast sharply with his idea of the Roman world-is one of his foremost concerns. He maintains a distinct 'Self' and 'Other' between the West and the East, the masculine and the feminine, and this distinction proves not only highly beneficial but also remarkably successful. The construction of an ideal Roman masculinity is one of Octavius's triumphs: the Rome that he has created-or rather, maintained and intensified-has a strict set of values associated with duty, decorum, temperance, and constancy of character. Their society is ruled by certain expectations of linear time and cause and I6 Bakhtin, 212. effect. Structure and order are paramount in the Octavian ideology. An individual's place in the Roman hierarchy depends upon his adherence to these 'masculine' values. In the first speech of the play, Philo emphasizes the importance of commensurability between cause and effect, and the danger of overabundant passion: "This dotage of our general's I O'er-ows the measure" (I.i.l-2). As Antony later describes to Lepidus, the Egyptian way of life depends on the overflowing of the river: The higher Nilus swells, The more it promises; as it ebbs, the seedsman Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, And shortly comes to harvest (II.vii.20-23). But such an image seems alien to the Romans, and Philo's comment suggests an overflowing of emotion associated with the treacherous Egyptian land. Already, the dichotomy is being carefully built: the Egyptian temperament tends to excess, the Roman temperament to careful measure. In Rome, one must follow decorum and adhere to expectations, as when Philo observes that Antony "comes too short of that great property I Which still should go with Antony" (I.i.59-60). It is important to note, as well, Philo's emphasis on 'seeing '- Look where they come: Take but good note, and you shall see in him The triple pillar of the world transformed Into a strumpet's fool. Behold and see (10-13) -as the Roman culture places its emphasis on visible, empirical proof. Throughout the play, the Romans will urge each other to 'see,' 'look,' and 'behold.' Philippa Berry, whose invaluable book Shakespeare's Feminine Endings delves into the murky territory of feminine death in the tragedies, refers to this preoccupation with visual perception as "ocularcentrism," and stresses its dominion over Western thought, adding that it is only