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[p. 160]
Donny Inbar
TAMING OF THE JEW
Marlowe's Barabas Vis-à-vis
Shakespeare's Shylock
Both
Christopher Marlowe's The Jew of Malta and William Shakespeare's
The Merchant of Venice present challenges to the contemporary reader
or interpreter, with regard to the character of "The Jew" in
their plays.(1) The stereotypical reference to Barabas and Shylock as
"The Jew," not to mention these characters' opprobrious characteristics
and deeds, is problematic in itself. "Marlowe's Barabas, like Shakespeare's
Shylock, is a criminal in the making," writes Martin D. Yaffe in
his analysis of both Jewish characters in Shylock and the Jewish Question:
"His crime is also prompted by his being a Jew."(2) Yet
Shylock can be regarded as a small-time crook, in comparison with Barabas'
abominable criminality. As John Gross defines it in his Shylock: A
Legend & its Legacy, Shakespeare's Jew "has been scaled down
and domesticated."(3) Thanks to this act of taming the Jew's character
from demonic to sardonic, Shylock has been perceived, both by contemporary
critics and theater people of the past two centuries, as a less problematic
or more presentable character.
How
are the characters of Barabas and Shylock related, and what did the process
of "toning down" the Marlovian monster entail? Additionally,
since both plays and their Jewish characters evolve around materialism,
wouldn't it be proper to evaluate the price that Shakespeare may have
paid (on behalf of his "Jew") in this procedure. Furthermore,
does a character in a drama necessarily benefit from such a course of
"housebreaking"? In order to fully assess the stages in, and
implication of, the "taming of the Jew," there is need for basic
evaluations of Barabas and Shylock, as well as of the literary and historical
sources of both plays. This will set the ground for a discussion of the
relationship between the two characters.
[p. 161] Who is Barabas, what is The
Jew of Malta and how are they relevant to The Merchant of Venice?
Marlowe's tragedy gained considerable success (36 performances) when first
produced at the Rose Theatre in London in 1592.(4) The protagonist of
The Famous Tragedy of the Rich Ievv of Malta(5) is Barabas, a wealthy
Jew who lives on the Mediterranean Island of Malta with his beautiful
daughter; from Malta he runs a world-encompassing trading empire. Once
his possessions are confiscated by the corrupt Catholic governor of the
Island (who demands that he convert to Christianity), in order to defend
Malta from the Turks, the dispossessed Jew is swept into a whirlwind of
revenge, and turns into a serial killer; he assists the Turkish army to
conquer Malta, is appointed its governor, but ends up falling into his
own trap, a boiling cauldron, where he dies, cursing his world and its
creator.
In comparison, Shakespeare's Jew in MV(6) (written 1594-8) is considerably
more tolerable. Shylock, too, is a rich Jew, who raises his only daughter
in a Mediterranean port-city, and who serves as a moneylender who profits
from the high interest he charges the Christian merchants. Like Barabas,
the contempt and humiliation he must endure from his Christian surroundings
drive him to the frenzy of a single vengeful obsession: he is determined
to cut off one pound of flesh from the body of Antonio, his debtor. Unlike
Barabas however, Shylock is stopped before a single drop of blood is shed,
and although he, too, is severely punished (and his possessions are confiscated
by the Christian authorities), he lives on, to bear his shame.
What is the connection between the two plays? MV is definitely not
an adaptation of JM. John Mitchell, who claims in his populist book Who
Wrote Shakespeare? that Marlowe was among the profusion of Shakespeare's
"ghost writers," does not include MV among Marlowe's contributions
to the Shakespearean canon.(7) Both playwrights definitely relied upon
the same two popular perceptions of "The Jew" at their time.
On the one hand, they both counted on the "stage Jew" stock-character
of those days: "Any actor could put on a 'jew's nose' (
) to
play [p. 162] Marlowe's Barabas or
Shakespeare's Shylock."(8) On the other hand, since both playwrights
lived in a relatively "Jew-free" England, they must have been
inspired, partly, by the real-life figure of Doctor Rodrigo Lopez, a "New
Christian" immigrant from Portugal, who was nonetheless considered
a Jew, and had gained the prestigious position of Queen Elizabeth's personal
physician.(9) But whereas Marlowe's character and his plot may have also
been inspired by the historical model of Don Yossef Nasi, The Jewish Duke
of Naxos (see below),(10) Shakespeare based MV on three literary sources.
The first, irrelevant to this comparative discussion, is the story of
three caskets; the second is a tale, which appeared in various forms since
1200 in Italy, about the villainous Jewish moneylender who asks for a
bond in the form of a pound of flesh.(11) The third source is Marlowe's
play, which had gained immense popularity on the Elizabethan stage. To
cast away any doubt, Shakespeare openly alludes to Marlowe's original
when Shylock says, "I have a daughter; / Would any of the stock of
Barrabas / Had been her husband." (MV, IV:1, my emphasis).(12)
[p. 163] The similarities in both
plays are not confined to the setup but relate as well to the theatrical
interpretation: it is noteworthy that despite the reliance on the comic
stock-character of the Jew, used by both playwrights, in spite of the
black humor in JM(13) and the fact that MV is categorized among Shakespeare's
comedies, the leading roles in both plays were originally portrayed by
the two finest dramatic actors of the Elizabethan stage: Edward Alleyn
(Barabas) and his rival Richard Burbage (Shylock.)(14)
Ellen Schiff, writing about the tradition of the stage Jew, notes that,
[I]t is hardly remarkable that The Merchant of
Venice, like The Jew of Malta (
) should deal with usury
when excesses in lending and forfeiture were gouging Englishmen. Similarly
predictable is the use of the reprehensible Jew to set off the generous,
merciful Christians.(15)
A superficial glance might perceive here, erroneously, two almost identical
twins out of some comedy: two despicable, rich Jewish characters at the
center of a conflict in a mercantile society of a Mediterranean city,
lose their money and pride, are even abandoned by their only daughters
(who convert to Christianity), are obsessed by revenge and are severely
punished by the Christian society that regains thereby its harmonious
order; both are repulsive clowns fit to be realized on stage by dramatic
actors. Yet it is necessary to distinguish between the two, as well as
between the setups and the authors. Barabas's creator is Marlowe, the
anarchist-atheist,(16) his advocate on stage is the devilish Machevil,
the prologue, and his crimes are several murders and treason. Shakespeare,
acting as Shylock's poetic attorney, reduces his Jew's crimes to misdemeanor.
No drop of blood is shed in MV, and the gory tragedy is transformed into
a somber comedy with a happy ending. It is almost as if Shakespeare succeeded
in taming the [p. 164] murderous monster
("everybody's bogyman"(17)) into a domesticated, though annoying,
beast. According to Yaffe, the dichotomy goes beyond the Jewish characters
into the realm of their faiths and tribes. Whereas
Shylock's turning to criminal behavior is, at least
in the eyes of the highest authorities of his city, tantamount to his
stepping outside the bounds of recognized Jewish teaching (
) In
the eyes of Barabas and his fellow denizens of Marlow's Malta, however,
the distinction between Jewishness and criminality is of no comparable
importance.(18)
But what did this process of redeeming the criminal Jew or his "taming"
actually entail? What price did the character of the despised Jew have
to pay in order to be pardoned on stage, and to be repeatedly revived
in the theater?(19) To use yet another metaphor from one of the plays,
what will our findings be when the two characters are placed on the literary
scales? The following comparisons, that will cover very different viewpoints
(such as literary, theatrical, or historical), will be conducted on various
levels, in order to fully evaluate the implication of the process of the
"domestication."
The Jews in Mercantile Societies. "Which is the merchant
here, and which the Jew?" (MV IV:1) is the appropriate question
with which to begin this series of evaluations. The first step in the
process of domestication, taken by Shakespeare, is to be found in the
(shortened version of the) title he gave his play. Both plays are titled
in a similar fashion: "The XXX of (location name)." In Marlowe's
case, XXX stands for "Jew," and refers to Barabas, the rich,
materialistic (and covetous) merchant. In Shakespeare's title,
"Merchant" is indeed the equivalent of Marlowe's "Jew."
However, Shakespeare's Jew, Shylock, though undeniably rich, materialistic
(and covetous), is not the merchant in the play. He is the usurer,
the unproductive moneylender. The merchant is Antonio, both protagonist
and Christian. Shylock is a mere secondary character. The dichotomy between
merchant and Jew and the similarities between Marlowe's [p.
165] and Shakespeare's merchants, are evident from the first
scene of MV. An early speech in MV bears many similarities to the following
verses in the JM opening scene:
But now how stands the wind?
Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?
Ha, to the east? Yes: see how stand the vanes!
East and by south; why then, I hope my ships
I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles
Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks:
Mine argosy from Alexandria,
Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail,
Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore
To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea. (JM I:1)
And one of its corresponding texts from
MV:
Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail,
Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or as it were, the pageants of the sea,
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
That curtsy to them (do them reverence)
As they fly by them with their woven wings. (MV I:1)
These
are two speeches of merchants, or mercantile heroes, who yearn for their
ships (their argosies) to return safely to their homeports with their
cargoes intact.(20) Here lies the essential difference between Barabas
and Shylock: in Marlowe's play, these are the opening lines of the Jew
Barabas, a tycoon and a fearless entrepreneur in renaissance terms. But
in Shakespeare's play, the Venetian merchant to whom Salerio alludes is
the Christian Antonio, Shylock's rival. Shylock is condensed to fit the
requirements of an anti-Jewish stereotype: an unproductive parasite, who
refers to himself as a 'land rat', refraining from any involvement in
commercial ventures. Is Barabas to be compared with Antonio, then? Can
we claim that Shakespeare might have divided Barabas between Shylock and
Antonio, since Barabas as a single character was too much to handle? And
wouldn't such an action constitute the first sign in the process of "reducing"
the stage Jew?
[p. 166] Fact and Fiction.
Another interesting divergence is to be found in the two authors' attitude
towards documentation and poetic license. Paradoxically, Marlowe, inspired
by the life story and adventures of a real three-dimensional person (Nasi),
stretched reality and converted his Jew into a larger-than-life megalomaniac
extrovert. Shakespeare, whose main sources were literary (and thus two-dimensional)
is the one who, as a faithful trainer, refined the caricature, took away
both its inhuman monstrosities and its colorful spectrum, in order to
present an introverted gray person. Nasi, Marlowe's main inspiration,
was a Marano Jew who fled the Catholic Iberian Peninsula and became a
senior advisor to the Turkish Sultan. Thanks to his brilliance, the Ottoman
Empire conquered a number of islands in the Mediterranean, and he himself
was knighted, and has been remembered as a Jewish hero. Though hardly
any Jews had lived in England since the thirteenth century, Marlowe may
have had a good chance to meet authentic, proud Jews in person. Having
been employed as a spy in Her Majesty's secret service, the playwright
wrote JM shortly after his return from a long stay in Holland, where,
in those very years, a liberated, autonomous congregation of Jews (fleeing
from the tortures of the Iberian Inquisition) was beginning to flourish.(21)
True, Shakespeare probably shared a single real-life source of inspiration
with Marlowe: Rodrigo Lopez, the Queen's physician. But while this information
about the celebrated Jewish doctor was significant for Marlowe in 1592,
by the time Shakespeare was to compose his own Jewish play, the course
of Lopez' fortune had veered: he was tried for treason (an attempt to
poison the Queen) and was sentenced to death. Stephen Greenblatt, in his
article "Shakespeare's Leap," interprets the Londoners' reaction
to Lopez's execution as "a last act of a comedy": "These
laughing spectators, in other words, thought they were watching a real-life
version of The Jew of Malta."(22) One should not disregard
the sharp turn in Lopez's reputation (after JM and prior to MV) as a factor
in the playwrights' attitude to "the Jews." The same person
was at first looked-up to, and then looked-down on. Here we may find the
most vivid real-life equivalent to the fall of "the Jew," as
it is portrayed respectively in both plays.
Opposite axes. The focal points or courses of action in
the plays are strikingly different. Barabas, the megalomaniac, keeps expanding
and growing (to monstrous sizes), from a wealthy [p.
167] merchant (who even manages to multiply his wealth despite
it being confiscated) to a murderer, a serial killer, a warrior and a
sovereign doomed to crash tragically. The tamed Shylock not only loses,
gradually, one property after another (daughter, ducats, dignity, his
dead wife's ring, his revenge, his Jewish identity), but he, at the same
time, is narrowing his focus more and more until his entire being is dedicated
to one obsession: a single pound of flesh.
Genres: From High to Low. The transition from tragedy to
comedy entails in itself a reduction. It is true that by relocating the
Jewish conflict from the realm of tragedy to that of comedy, the fatherly
author gains an instant pardon for his fictional Jew: since death is rarely
an option on the comic stage, Shylock is neither able to shed Antonio's
blood, nor is his own life in mortal danger. But then, the scope of tragedy
is traditionally considered superior to that of comedy, from Aristotle's
Poetics on. Or as Northrop Frye defines it, tragedy is "the
high mimetic mode," whereas the comic/ironic mode is inferior and
"low."(23) Hence, another dent in Shylock's status.
The Jews' "Fathers." In line with Jeffrey Masten's
treatment of the renaissance author as a source of authorship and a literary
father figure in Textual Intercourse,(24) it may be interesting
to compare (now and below) a few aspects in the two playwrights' affection
for their stage Jews, the wild and the tamed. True, Marlowe thrusts Barabas
into the pit and a tormented death, whereas Shakespeare saves Shylock's
life, but what can be said about the quality of stage-life the usurer
enjoys before and after his exit? Gross opens his comparison between the
two Jewish characters with the striking verbal similarity in the two fathers'
outcries: "O girl, O gold, O beauty, O my Bliss!" (JM II:1)
"My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!" (MV II:8).(25) But
what a difference: whereas Barabas' line is an expression of glee when
his daughter retrieves his hidden treasure, Shylock's is a lamentation
over his daughter's betrayal (on the Jews as fathers, see below). "My
daughter! O my ducats!" is one of Shylock's two most memorable lines
in MV, while "O girl, O gold" is not considered one of Barabas'
most quoted speeches. Harry Levin, in one of the appendices to The
Overreacher: A Study of Christopher Marlowe, provides statistics on
[p. 168] the percentage of lines given
to protagonists in Marlowe's plays. Barabas was endowed with a record
number of lines, that take up 49 percent of the total lines in JM (exceeding
even Doctor Faustus' 47%), compared to Hamlet's less than 38% of the total
lines in the Shakespearian revenge tragedy.(26) Shylock is not only inferior
in the quantity of his lines, but most strikingly in their quality. The
daughter/ducats speech, attributed to Shylock in our collective memory,
is actually delivered by a minor character, Solanio (who, with his stage
twin, Salerio, functions as one half of a two-dimensional caricature-duo),
who quotes Shylock. The Jew's most dramatic speech is indeed delivered
by Shylock himself:
Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt
with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same
means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian
is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? (MV III:1)
However, it is noteworthy that most of
Shylock's lines (unlike those of Barabas), including the potent "Hath
not a Jew eyes?" are written in prose, and this is not to be attributed
to Shakespeare's recklessness or lack of creativity. Shakespeare is significantly
thrifty with regard to the attributes he bestows on his creature: Shylock
does not open the play, is not given any momentous poetry, and makes a
hasty exit before the end of Act IV, to be succeeded by an entire act
of love and romance, celebrated by the other characters. Barabas, like
Marlowe's other protagonists (Faustus and Tamburlaine in particular, also
Edward II), is a doomed tragic hero who not only defies his own fate,
but also the laws of nature. Whereas according to the Shakespearean canon,
Shylock resembles, if you will, Malvolio of Twelfth Night. Both
are dark-gray characters who do not fit the colorful world of romance
that surrounds them, are cruelly punished (in the plot) once they try
to cross their boundaries, and make an ugly insignificant exit before
the beginning of the other characters' festivities, without any salvation
(an even crueler punishment in terms of theatricality). So ungrateful
is Shylock's exit, that Edwin Booth, one of the celebrated nineteenth
century Shylocks, in his attempt to elevate or upgrade the Jew's character
from a minor comic to a tragic hero, "generally dispensed entirely
with Act Five," and billed the play "Shylock" as a way
of retrieving the lost tragic values deprived from the character by its
author.(27) In a similar manner, Michael Radford, in his 2004 film adaptation
of [p. 169] MV, complemented the dearth
of Shylock's presence by a number of additional silent scenes or shots,(28)
reinforcing the Jew's presence.(29) Such is the opening scene on the Rialto,
in which Shylock (Al Pacino) is introduced as Antonio (Jeremy Irons) spits
in his face; Shylock is later shown in a rainy night shot, as he is mumbling
"My daughter! O my ducats!" while the speech is delivered by
Solanio's voiceover; the fifth act in the film -- if not cut altogether
as in Booth's adaptation -- is drastically shortened, and is wrapped up
with yet another silent shot on Shylock the convert, locked out of the
Jewish as well as the Christian worlds. Thus Shylock is endowed with the
entrance, exit and monologue of which Shakespeare deprived him.
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