Many think King Lear is too big for the stage. It certainly overwhelms audiences with the death of love, the death of men, and the death of realms. We leave the theater drained of life, left with no hope for happiness in old age or of keeping the love of even our family. It's a nihilistic play written three hundred years before Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Sartre, or Hemingway. King Lear is perhaps Shakespeare's greatest achievement but it is a dark and depressing work.
Its grandeur does work extremely well with film. Akira Kurosawa transposed the story to medieval Japan and everything about the production is spectacular. Still, it is ridiculous to think that King Lear is too big for the stage. It works so well because the story unfolds before us, close enough for us to touch it. For instance, we laugh heartily when Kent unleashes a string of insults on the devious servant Oswald.
OSWALD: What dost thou know me for?
KENT: A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-glazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in a way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.
(Act II scene i lines 11~22)
Now that's funny! And what fun to have Kent before us, close enough for us to actually cheer him on. Later we recoil in horror when Cornwall gouges out Gloucester's eyes right in front of us, as his wife Regan happily looks on. The contrast between horror and mirth in this play is stunning.
Finally at the end, we follow Lear into despair when he realizes Cordelia, who stayed loyal to him despite his harsh and unfair treatment of her, will “never, never, never, never, never” breathe again. Lear dies but only after first losing everything. All three daughters are dead, his vassals are gone, his kingdom is destroyed, and no one can stop an awful nothingness from sucking out his life.
The Tempest—Forgiving the evil that men do
This is my favorite Shakespeare play. Only King Lear and Hamlet equal it, and maybe surpass it, in philosophical depth but the play's gentleness and optimism give audiences a glimpse of heaven rather than of hell.
The Tempest is a romance but it contains a tragic element too, with the tragedy taking place many years before the play begins. Prospero was Duke of Milan but he preferred studying ancient books in his library over carrying out his duties. His academic hubris led him to trust his brother Antonio, who overthrew him. Antonio could not bring himself to murder Prospero and his daughter Miranda, so instead he set them adrift to let the sea rid him of his brother. Fate brought Prospero and Miranda to a magical island and as the play starts, fate brings Antonio within reach of Prospero.
Prospero's learning becomes useful, as does his wisdom. He wants justice, not revenge. He orders the enslaved spirit Ariel to blow a storm so that Antonio and his fellow passengers, including the King of Naples with his brother Sebastian and his son Ferdinand, are thrown to shore on different parts of the island.
Prospero's other slave Caliban (for the not-perfectly-good Prospero is in fact the master of slaves) meets with some drunken servants and plots to overthrow Prospero. Sebastian plots, with Antonio's help, to murder the king and take the crown. Prospero sees all, and their plans fit into his. By the end, Miranda marries Ferdinand, Prospero forgives Antonio and the King forgives Sebastian, Ariel is set free into the air, and Caliban is left alone with his malice on the island, once again his own king.
Forgiveness is indeed the theme of the play. Why does Prospero not kill Antonio? He has every reason to, and in fact it would be the safe thing to do. Prospero knows he lost his dukedom because he neglected his duties; it was his fault. Having tasted power, Antonio naturally seized it, so an understanding Prospero forgives him.
Prospero is a stern master. He rebukes Ariel for presuming to demand his promised freedom, but he does free him (or her, Ariel is both feminine and masculine). He treats Caliban harshly even though he owes him much, but he does leave him master of the island at the end. And Prospero is ultimately gentle. Though the lesson is hard, he values his gentleness. He forgives his malefactors and frees his slaves.
The Tragical History of Hamlet Prince of Denmark—Be! Do!
Hamlet… The melancholy prince who can't decide what to do, who can't decide whether to live and act, or run away and forget, is the most commonly misunderstood character in the Shakespeare canon.
He is angry, not depressed, he does know what do, and he does decide to do it. He wants to avenge his murdered father and send his usurping uncle Claudius to hell, even at the cost of sacrificing his love for Ophelia. That is the core tragic element superbly staged by Shakespeare.
Hamlet returns to Denmark to mourn his father's death. The king's ghost appears and reveals to Hamlet that he was treacherously murdered by his brother Claudius, who then ascended the throne and married the widowed queen Gertrude. Condemned to hell, he calls on his son to avenge him.
Hamlet, unseen by his uncle, finds Claudius in prayer confessing his crime. Hamlet could kill him then and there but he doesn't. Having confessed, Claudius is now absolved and his soul would rise to heaven even as Hamlet's father burns in hell. That's not justice! Hamlet wants revenge; he wants his uncle to suffer. He doesn't trust God to judge Claudius so he sets himself as judge as well as executioner. Hubris, the tragic flaw, moves him to presume beyond his station.
Hamlet is a tragedy growing from well-planned actions. Hamlet knows what he is doing. He and his close ones pay a terrible price. He accidently murders Ophelia's father Polonius, Ophelia is driven to suicide, he kills her brother Laertes in a duel and soon dies himself of a scratch from Laertes's poisoned blade. Oh, Claudius and Gertrude die too, and Denmark falls to the forces of Norway.
Note: Kenneth Branagh's magnificent 1996 adaptation of the full play shows Hamlet in exactly this light. It is Derek Jacobi, however, who steals the show as Claudius. His performance doesn't veer away from the text by so much as one syllable, but he speaks his lines as naturally as anyone would speak in everyday life. He brings Shakespeare to the audience more closely than any actor ever has before.
Macbeth—Sound and fury signifying nothing
Both Lear and Macbeth die in despair. Richard II also dies tragically, but in the end he realizes his mistake is his own. Richard dies in despair of finding happiness in life but expecting happiness in death: "Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high" (Act V scene v line 112). Nor does Richard II meekly give up. He dies defending himself and aspires to heaven only after being mortally wounded.
Now compare this to Lear's famous "Never, never, never, never, never" line and with Macbeth's line that life "is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"(Act V scene v lines 28~30). All lines come near the end of the play and but Lear and Macbeth express their nihilistic conclusions on the nature of human existence: Life has no meaning, holds no comfort.
Both Macbeth and Lear are the cause of their own downfall, but Lear falls because he is complacent, because he thinks he can relinquish his power and still enjoy his old age. Lear falls because he fails to assume his duty, while Macbeth falls because he is ambitious and usurps a title to which he has no right.
Lear isn't evil, merely unwise, irresponsible, and negligent. Macbeth on the other hand is malicious and places his desires above those of others, thinking nothing of taking over their lands, castles, rights, titles, and privileges.
Both die in despair seeing no purpose to life. This realization drives Lear to die humbled and diminished, and his soul simply evaporates out of his flesh. The realization enrages Macbeth rather than humbles him. He takes his sword to make a final stand. He dies with his head cut off, his soul pouring out of his body into the mud of the battlefield. He ne
ver accepts that he caused his own downfall; he blames fate and the futility of life, that tale which signifies nothing.
The Merchant of Venice—Shylock as a tragic hero
The merchant of the title, Antonio, seems to be the hero of the play. He is handsome and well loved. He is wise to boot: he spreads his business risk by sponsoring several ships each going to different destinations.
But is he really the hero? He has it all, and by the end he'll have neither lost nor gained anything.
Antonio's ventures leave him short of cash when a close friend asks money of him. To help his friend, he signs a bond with the local Jewish money lender, Shylock, who instead of lending money at interest against collateral, or simply on Antonio's well-earned creditworthiness, makes his loan interest-free. Instead he asks for a pound of Antonio's flesh should he default.
This is bad business—there’s no profit in it—so why does Shylock ask for this? Because Shylock has had enough. He can no longer stand the insults from Antonio and the other merchants of Venice. They spit at him, call him names, and now their proudest member comes hat in hand for a loan. Antonio can have it, but on Shylock's harsh yet generous terms.
This is the tragic mistake, the