Earthen Cosmology and Humanism in King Lear


"With the breakdown of the Medieval system, the gods of Chaos, Lunacy, and Bad Taste gained ascendancy." -Ignatius J. Reilly in Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

King Lear is a complicated, apocalyptic play with parallel plots, moral ambiguity, and a messy ending. The play's events were politically charged and historically informed when they were performed in seventeenth century England, as they continue to be to today. Whatever his intentions, Shakespeare has given us several universal truths to consider. One I like to consider is how beneath all the sinister and bold machinations of man lies the gentle earth, from which we, and all life, spring. Some critics note that Shakespeare was skeptical about God and the role of religion in one's life. I believe King Lear is the product of a writer with a solid cosmology, but one centered in earth and humanity. I hesitate to label Shakespeare a pagan, or anything other than brilliant. Yet there is evidence enough in the text for me to argue an earth-centric thesis. A close reading reveals those who employ common wording or down-to-earth speech as embodiments of goodness, whereas characters that insist on the perfectly controlled, artificial utterances of the feudal court are corrupt at best, if not evil. The gods above are shown to be fickle and uncaring, if not bloodthirsty. Shakespeare also weaves in certain utopian visions into the fabric of King Lear, earth-based ideals, not only pre-Christian like the play's setting, but pre-historic; thus supporting the argument for an earthen cosmology and humanistic political consciousness, freely exhibited and often applied in the work.

Unnatural Edmund

Edmund rejects the very idea of baseness, or what we might think of as earthiness. He is skillfully used in the play to oppose to all that is common and good. His famous soliloquy in Act 1, Scene 2 clarifies his distance from such mundane subjects.

    Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law
    My services are bound. Wherefore should I
    Stand in the plague of custom and permit
    The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
    For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
    Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base?
    When my dimensions are as well compact,
    My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
    An honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
    With base? With baseness? Bastardy? Base, base?
    Who in the lusty stealth of nature take
    More composition and fierce quality
    Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed
    Go to th' creating a whole tribe of fops, (Edmund 1.2.6-14)

Edmund claims to honor Nature but his trajectory is upward, away from earth and things natural, where Edgar's trajectory is downward, toward earth, not ultimately, but as a course of action in the drama. In this, Edmund's self-defining moment, he swirls the word base around in his mouth as if tasting wine he finds not altogether palatable. His blinding ambitions keep him from identifying with his own built-in baseness, the fact that he is a bastard, born of physical, real lust. Edmund is ashamed of his conception; he finds nothing to celebrate there. Like many who are made objects of fun--even good-natured fun, as Gloucester may have intended when he introduced his unsanctified son, but rudely, to Kent--Edmund turns bitterly inward and perhaps as a means of self-defense, works hard to fit in. Of course, he seeks acceptance at lethal levels, and adopts all the mannerisms of the courtly surroundings, false flattery foremost. Edmund never means what he says unless he's enjoying soliloquy, and even then one must watch him closely, or he'll morph into a nature-loving pagan, masking the soulless opportunist he naturally is.

Shakespeare often inverts meaning in the play, stretching language to its fullest use, thereby allowing a place for ambiguity. The idea that Edmund is Gloucester's more natural child, a child of base yearnings, not breeding, is one such ironic twist. Edmund is thoroughly natural at his core. Yet, there is noting at all "natural" about his lack of humanity. His narcissism and unbridled ambition seem natural enough from Edmund's egocentric point of view. Yet, the audience may have a difficult time embracing the notion that such outlandish vices are in fact, natural. Edmund's self-absorption reaches it zenith at the end of Act 5, Scene 1 as he considers the potential disposal of Albany, and assured riddance of Lear and dear-once-more Cordelia.

    for my state
    Stands on me to defend, not to debate. (Edmund 5.1.71-72)

At this critical juncture, Edmund sees England as his own and he its rightful master. Ignoble fiend!

Pure Dirt

Edgar is Edmund's half-brother. The two run at opposing, but intersecting arcs. Edgar is crafty, while Edmund is manipulative. Edgar is strategic, while Edmund is calculating. For certain, the two spin on a common axis, despite their notable differences. What I endeavor to show here is not how one brother bests the other, more corrupt, and then bleed the story for a moral. My interest falls to Shakespeare's technique, poetic and visionary, specifically his use of earth, or dirt, as a signifier for good. Edgar's defining moment comes as he is cast out and running from the false, but equally greedy wrath of his father, Earl of Gloucester.

    I heard myself proclaimed
    And by the happy hollow tree
    Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place
    That guard and most unusual vigilance
    Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape
    I will preserve myself, and am bethought
    To take the basest and most poorest shape
    That ever penury, in contempt of man,
    Brought near to breast. My face I'll grime with filth,
    Blanket my loins, elf my hairs in knots,
    And with presented nakedness outface
    The winds and persecutions of the sky. (Edgar 2.3.1-12)

Edgar's defense is clever. He does not seek to fight a war of words. He acts to preserve himself, stripping himself of all courtly manner and garb. He becomes outwardly humble, mirroring his inward and natural condition. Again we find inversion of meaning, or irony, for as Edgar smears "filth" on his face, he becomes more pure. What are we to make of this base costuming and it's symbolic meaning? Feminist critic, Joyce Carol Oates, inextricably links Nature with the feminine in King Lear and argues that the play's masculine elements must destroy Nature and its female embodiments, particularly Cordelia, Regan, and Goneril.

    ...the kingdom must be totally purged of the female, not in order that mere evil be eradicated, but that the life force itself be denied.

While I admire this critic's nimble intelligence and her ability to strenuously argue her theories, I reject this type of post-modern critique, for its lack of depth and tunnel vision. Edgar's smearing of earth on his mostly naked body elevates Nature. With this costume Edgar becomes feminine, if not pagan, and he survives to inherit the kingdom.

Kent is Edgar's parallel in several key areas, including his need to costume and his choice of disguise. While the text does not provide details of Kent's masking techniques, staging of the play clearly does. In film director Michael Elliot's version, starring Lawrence Olivier, Kent smears dirt on his face at the opening of Act 1, Scene 4, foreshadowing Edgar's need to do the same. Shakespeare presents us with two nobles, central figures in the drama, who opt to identify themselves as commoners, as men close to the land in the most literal sense, as men who serve the common interest over their own needs. Edgar and Kent with earth on their faces for much of the play helps to clarify the point that Lear indiscriminately divides not just his lands, but his people, as well. Kent and Edgar, via this technique magnify Nature's place in the grand scheme--something an Elizabethan audience would be even more sensitive to than us moderns, whose existence is largely (and dangerously) detached from the land that supports us.

Hovel, Your Grace?

It is interesting and important to draw distinctions between the Nature of sky and the Nature of earth in King Lear. Sky belongs to the cruel, uncaring gods; thus, sky is not part of Nature's goodness. Sky is the dark side of Nature, far from man's controlling reach. The raging storm in Act 3 diminishes man. Lear, the all-powerful ruler of England has zero influence before such a storm. He is brought to the brink of madness by its relentless presence and then to a greater understanding of his own humanity as he endures it, so Nature once more does redeem, but in a punishing, frightful manner. In direct opposition to the heavenly cruelties is Poor Tom's hovel.

    The art of our necessities is strange
    And can make vile things precious. (Lear 3.2.70-71)

Lear is led to this earthen womb by his faithful servants Kent and The Fool, only to find Edgar/Poor Tom already inside. The hovel houses all whom are good in the play. Here again, feminist criticism falls flat, for the hovel as womb celebrates Nature. And by placing Kent and Edgar therein, Shakespeare is saying Nature's earthly aspects and those who will align themselves with, not against Nature, are undeniably good. Oates sees a Lear mortified by the power of the feminine, wherever he may find it.

    ...in King Lear, it seems to me that Shakespeare was too involved in Lear's sexual paranoia to clearly delineate the psychopathology that has gripped the king.

When looking exclusively at Lear's treatment of his daughters, Oates may have a point. Taking the larger, more holistic, all encompassing view of Nature, I counter that Lear does not fear the power of the feminine that the hovel/womb represents. Yes, the king's attendants have difficulty getting him to enter, but it's not for fear of the feminine. The King seeks further transformation from the storm, more growth if you will, before enjoying the hovel's protective cover.

The Power of Plainspoken Pronouncements

"The power of flatterers to obstruct even the best-intentioned monarch was recognized as a major problem in absolute systems." Ben Ross Schneider, Jr.

The play's opening scene, wherein Lear demands courtly flattery from his three daughters, poignantly reveals the arrogance and trappings of unchecked power. After hearing her sisters' appropriate and expected responses to Lear, Cordelia in good conscience cannot bring herself to participate in the charade. Where false words do flow, Cordelia is a foreigner, not for lack of training, nor skill, for she is a capable orator but one guided by a higher moral code. After Lear rejects his once beloved daughter and tells the King of France he can have her, Cordelia defends her true character, while rejecting the false flattery of her sisters.

    If for I want that glib and oily art
    To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend
    I'll do't before I speak (Cordelia 1.1.228-230)

Cordelia is brave and selfless. She knows the dire consequences that attend her truthful disposition, yet she wavers not. Thus, Shakespeare has given us a heroic, noble, and sympathetic character in Cordelia. At the same time, the playwright has put forward a powerfully political, highly subversive, argument. For honor and truth are here shown to be greater than the monarchy, and greater than even England itself.

The Earl of Kent occupies a special place in the play. He faithfully serves the king at all costs, even when the cost is banishment and the threat of death. Kent is also Cordelia's parallel character, for he too speaks plainly and honestly. Yet, Kent does so more forcefully than Cordelia. He vigorously appeals to Lear's better judgment in Act 1, Scene 1. He tells Lear that he's gone mad, that his youngest daughter does not love him least, and that the course he's taking is ruinous to the state.

    ...Be Kent unmannerly
    When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man?
    Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
    When power to flattery bows?
    To plainness honor's bound
    When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state,
    And in thy best consideration check
    This hideous rashness. (Kent 1.1.145-152)

These are strong words from a powerful, just, acutely conscious man. But what are we to make of this? Is Shakespeare merely executing a dramatic turn, or is there a meaningful pattern here? I believe the answer lies in Kent's ridicule of Cornwall in Act 2, Scene 2. After scuffling with Oswald, the duplicitous servant, Cornwall attempts to understand the nature of (now disguised) Kent's dispute and his dogged, reckless response to the inquiry.

    ...He cannot flatter, he;
    An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
    An they will take't, so; if not, he's plain.
    These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
    Harbor more craft and more corrupter ends
    Than twenty silly-duckling observants
    That stretch their duties nicely. (Cornwall 2.2.99-105)

In Kent's reply, we find Shakespeare's playful humor, but also insight into the value placed on plainspoken pronouncements.

    Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity
    Under th' allowance of your great aspect
    Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
    On flickering Phoebus' front (Kent 2.2.106-109)

Here, Kent openly mocks the courtly manners so pervasive in the world he himself has long occupied as a landed gentleman and Earl. In Kent and Cordelia, Shakespeare explicitly elevates the common. At a time when scholarly learning and religious observance required the knowledge of Latin and often Greek, and political acceptance the flowery application of English, Shakespeare gives us, not one, but two aristocrats who favor direct, down-to-earth speech. For Marxist scholars, this fact may lead to insightful political theories as to Shakespeare's intentions. I cannot disregard the political implications, for they are self-evident, but I see the political and the religious inextricably wound. The church and the state in Elizabethan England were in many ways one. Shakespeare's construction of Cordelia and Kent as truly sympathetic, earthy characters points to a philosophy grounded in common wisdom and plainness, far from the ethereal realms of the royal court.

Utopian Visions

Gloucester and Lear share moving visions of a world more just as their own vaunted worlds collapse and decay. Again, we have political and spiritual elements mingling, for the metamorphoses these two men undergo are more than just political, or just spiritual. Lear is altered by the storm in Act 3. Violent nature intrudes, exposing Lear to the fallacy of worldliness and power. Lear, humbled by the storm, grows wiser and more tolerant. The consummate egotist, Lear finally learns to care for his fellow humans.

    Poor naked wretches, wheresoe' er you are,
    That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
    How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
    Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
    From seasons such as these? O, I have ta' en
    Too little care of this! (Lear 3.4.28-33)

There may be no other passage in the drama more revealing of Shakespeare's pagan and humanist leanings, for here nature is clearly in command. Nature is bigger than every man, including the King of England. And nature has the power to radically transform the human heart and mind.

Gloucester, like Lear, suffers greatly and is made more human for the pain he endures. Speaking to his son Edgar, but thinking him an impoverished servant, Gloucester expounds his newly formed philosophy.

    Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues
    Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched
    Makes thee happier. Heavens, deal so still!
    Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
    That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
    Because he does not feel, feel your pow'r quickly!
    So distribution should undo excess
    And each man have enough. (Gloucester 4.1.63-70)

That Gloucester feels sorry for himself can be excused, for the man has had his eyes gouged out in one of the theatre's most vile and graphic scenes. Yet, that sorrow does lead to a better place, a place of redemption, where the Earl shares Lear's utopian vision for a more just society. The idea that one must feel before one can truly see is today forwarded by the likes of Robert Bly, and many others. In the context of Shakespeare's most apocalyptic play, a play seemingly devoid of hope, I find this forwarding of a sensitive sensibility to be instructive, as well as beautiful.

Summary

I believe a close reading of King Lear does reveal shreds of hope for those yet living. Witness Shakespeare's conscious decision to leave Edgar standing, and with the play's last words. Why not crush such a creature under Fortuna's wheel to deepen the sense that in life there is too little justice--justice being a central theme in the drama? Were a depiction of utter hopelessness the playwright's intent, Shakespeare would have left the demon Edmund standing. Instead he chose Edgar who is undeniably good. Good prevails as Edgar survives to inherent the kingdom. King Lear is no exercise is existentialism, on the contrary I find the play to be a moral tale for all time, laying bare as it does the corruptness of power, the dangers of ego, and the folly of unbridled ambition. Some 400 years after the play was first performed, American novelist and educator, Jane Smiley introduced the literate world to her prize-winning rendition of the Lear fable, A Thousand Acres. Like Shakespeare before her, Smiley molded a story already existent in the public domain to her present day surroundings. And like Shakespeare she places the fertile earth at the center of her drama. Emerging cultures like imperial America may discover much through the rigors of science and spiritual inquiry--the results are strikingly similar--but no matter how far our knowledge advances, some basic truths remain. Like all we truly have is one another and our home, the earth, from which all life emanates. We can abuse these precious gifts of life and thereby suffer great losses and pain. Or we can act honorably and celebrate one another and the good earth, our physical home. One's point of view tends to inform the art one studies. King Lear can be at once a biting commentary on the folly of monarchy or it can just as easily be understood as a tribute to the manifest values of personal humility, caring, and wise stewardship of the land.

Works Cited

Elliot, Michael. King Lear by William Shakespeare. Princeton: Films for the Humanities. 1988. Starring: Laurence Olivier and John Hurt.

Oates, Joyce Carol. " 'Is This the Promised End?': The Tragedy of King Lear." Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. (Fall 1974) URL: http://www.usfca.edu/fac-staff/southerr/lear.html.

Schneider, Ben Ross, Jr. "King Lear in Its Own Time: The Difference that Death Makes." Early Modern Literary Studies 1.1 (1995): 3.1-49 URL: http://www.humanities.ualberta.ca/emls/01-1/schnlear.html.

Shakespeare, William. King Lear. Edited by David Bevington. New York: Bantam. 1980.

Smiley, Jane. A Thousand Acres. New York: Fawcett Columbine. 1991.

Toole, John Kennedy. A Confederacy of Dunces. New York: Grove Weidenfeld. 1980.

©2003 David Burn Some rights reserved