title | date | show |
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Dichotomy in modern tragedy |
2007-09-30 |
false |
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and William Shakespeare's Hamlet are two revenge stories which present a twist on classic Aristotelian tragedy. The dichotomy in the titular characters' tragic flights, one based on faith, the other on logic, especially emphasize that choices, not fate, which rule the modern tragic protagonist.
Frankenstein's fall, and need for revenge, is seated firmly in his scientific reasoning. Natural science (where Alchemy may be called that) led Victor to animate his first creature. When confronted with the decision of animating a second creature, Victor' logic leads him to choose the proven needs of the many over the possible wants of the few.
Hamlet, on the other hand, focuses his logic entirely on faith and intuition. Without faith in the ghost, there would be no cause for undue suspicion against Claudius; without that suspicion, there would be no catalyst for the mousetrap play, the ranting madness, or the long spoken personal essays looking into himself. The distance between the two calls for revenge is immense, though both are grounded in the logic of what each character believes (after much consideration) to be the truth.
William Shakespeare and Mary Shelly come at their works from very different angles. Shakespeare spent the autumn and winter of 1599 revising and putting new lines to a story that had already been in circulation for some 500 years, updating it to his times. One prominent aspect of his new take on the classic tale of revenge was the ghost of Hamlet's father. In all previous versions of the play, Claudius' betrayal was well known, and the folk hero Hamlet takes his vengeance for vengeance' sake. Shakespeare's Hamlet, however, is faced with a ghost representative of one of the great issues of Shakespeare's era: the tension between England's Catholic and Protestant churches. This adds an entirely new dimension to the character, and the basis for Hamlet's moral dilemma. In the first act, we hear the ghost comes from "sulph'rous and tormenting flames," a specter calling to "revenge his foul and most unnatural mur[d]er" (Act I, Scene V). Hamlet must decide whether to trust this ghost (who might well be a protestant demon in a catholic disguise) or not, prompting him to stage the mousetrap play.
In the 17th and 18th centuries, the continual advances in science and mathematics led Shelley to pen a truly original work that captured the tremendous upheavals brought about by the scientific revolution of the time. Even so, the work of a scientist in her time was still often conducted by rich gentleman born into wealth playing with a hobby picked up in grammar school. Shelly continues this pattern with Victor, a rich boy whose "ancestors had been for many years counsellors and syndics" (Chapter 1, Paragraph 1). He is a man who attempts to find a solid, conclusive proof for every action and decision he makes, fascinated by "the theory which to demonstrate and the wonderful facts which he relates" (Chapter 2, Paragraph 6). Strong contemporary influences on both authors provide the grounding each has for their stories of tragedy.
Hamlet's journey into the recesses of his psyche is Shakespeare's breath of life into a beaten and overused plot, and the use of soliloquy, which closely follows the form of the personal essay, allowed Shakespeare to redefine the face of tragedy. What was for Aristotle a "tragic flaw" became a conduit for questions of the 'whys' in faith, honor, and duty, exemplified in the third act: "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/Or to take arms against a sea of troubles" (Act III, Scene I). While this is indeed Hamlet's tragic flaw (he wouldn't be dead if he had just killed Claudius at prayer), it changed the focus of the drama onto the reasons for his choices, rather than his predestined fate.
In Frankenstein, Victor's single-minded pursuit of knowledge leads to the creation of the monster. Victor's flaw is his irresponsibility: "Nor could I consider the magnitude and complexity of my plan" (Chapter 4, Paragraph 7). Had he taken the time to consider his actions, and proceed with both caution and help from a fellow at the university, it is very possible that the monster's fall into savagery could have been avoided. The tragedy is proved more poignant by Shelley's use of Point of View. By switching from one storyteller to another, and then often telling yet another character's story, the point-of-view is only compounded by the additional texts, epistles, and so forth, presenting literally every passage in first person - while maintaining six separate Storytellers.
There are specific passages in each story that clearly show the titular characters' motives and reasons. In Hamlet, act III again illuminates his values and intentions. After the mousetrap play, Hamlet finds Claudius praying in the chapel. "Now I could do it pat, now he is praying" has Hamlet with his sword poised to strike. His next thought stops him cold- "And now he would go to heavens." (Act III, Scene III). Faith in heaven and god above stop Hamlet's easy kill; to do so now would negate his revenge and leave Hamlet in a worse position than he was before. Hamlet is, through his faith, forced to wait for a more opportune time; his downfall in the making, as there comes no better time.
Frankenstein makes a similar decision in the beginning of Chapter 20. All his logic and reasoning boil down to one thought, shaping his goals and motives for the rest of the novel. [...] one of the first results of those sympathies for which the demon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the Earth" (Chapter 20, Paragraph 1). At this crux, Victor knows the monster will not be amused with his decision, and will as promised seek out to destroy Victor and his family. Yet still, his logic proves that good will prevail, and the monster will die bearing no progeny. Another interesting influence on both leads is their relationships with their families, and their insistence on secrecy in their designs. Neither Hamlet nor Frankenstein are comfortable in revealing their actions; Hamlet forces (with the Ghost's help) Marcellus and Horatio to "Swear" they "never shall, to note that you know aught of me" (Act l, Scene V). Victor, with no witnesses, makes the same promise to himself: "I had a persuasion that I should be supposed mad, and this in itself would forever have chained my tongue."
Dreams are significant to both men, as is their symbolism of death and suicide. "To die- to sleep. / To sleep- perchance to dream" (Act Scene I) says Hamlet, speaking for both. "My dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me" (Chapter 21, Paragraph 35) finishes Victor. Suicide is an easy option, a way to cheat the fate Aristotle demands of their tragedies. Yet, where would that leave their goals? Both seem to think broken and dashed- "For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, When he himself might his quietus make/ With a bare bodkin? But that the dread of something after death- The undiscover'd country, puzzles the will" (Act Ill, Scene I). When asked if he was alright, Victor replies "if indeed I did not dream, am sorry that I am still alive to feel this misery and horror" (Chapter 21, Paragraph 12).
Yet again, both are seen through by their guiding forces. Victor, having heard the monster's promise, sets himself to destroy the foul creature on the promised night. With the aid of guards, arms, and his love shared with Elizabeth, only a slight miscalculation on his part sees the monster through, shatters Victor, and finally drives home the determination Victor must have in his endeavor. Hamlet's faith, also, sees him through. While thinking of an easy solution for himself, "thus conscience does make cowards of us all, / [...] / And lose the name of action" (Act III Scene I). His faith in his father, the ghost, and himself are too strong, support Hamlet's revenge, mask in his madness and revel in his machinations.
The tragedies see both men to the end of their revenge, but for both, a bittersweet ending. Hamlet's father is avenged. Victor's monster is destroyed. Hamlet is destroyed not by his faith, which saw him through, but by his trust in the gentleman's sport. Victor gives in to true madness, ignoring reason that the monster has fulfilled its desires, and wishes only to be left alone. Had both ended their journeys earlier, at a point where they may not have achieved all their goals, but would put an end to their problems, either character could have averted their drama from tragedy and lived with his companions to another adventure. It is not a single character flaw that defines these tragedies, or a predefined fate that we must see lived out. Shakespeare and Shelley both have characters who act for themselves, and taking their destinies in their own hands have plans that backfire, destroy them not through hubris or purpose, but through subtle points, missed connotations, and double entendres.
Bibliographical note: all quotations taken from Project Gutenberg e-texts; Frankenstein and Hamlet.
Originally written and published September 2007 by David Souther for Linaya Leaf in Rocky's Eng119 course.
I stumbled across this while going through old emails. It was originally addressed to Austin Brown. I have not edited it since I found it, it is posted as is from July 2009.
Homo Sapiens is, to it's knowledge, only unique in it's ability to make value judgments on it's actions in the world. Many other animals show knowledge of their environment and an ability to carry out tasks of relative complexity (including rather complex computer algorithms like A* pathfinding), but the ability to evaluate how a goal was completed remains solely in the realm of Human comprehension.
This presents many questions, and many answers in generations paced have placed a special prominence on the human race. Throughout western history, humans have always been special, separate from animals, plants, and gods. The Christian influence is not alone in the middle ages in presenting our race as coming with special providence from on-high, with a transcendent imperative making them simply better than everything else (with even the distinctions of what makes a human rather loosely defined). It is interesting that the scientific revolution of the renaissance represents a desire of christians to understand God and His Creation, but that that path leads directly to one inevitable conclusion: humanity is at best a chance occurence in the cosmos, at worst, humanity is just one of billions of ordinary races throughout the universe to have achieved intelligence.
The questions presented are questions that have been asked and answered, directly or indirectly, through nearly every medium of expression in our recorded history well into prehistorical tales passed to us. What is the meaning of life? Why are we here? How did that happen? The sheer multitude of answers, much less the subtleties in nearly identical answers, raises a question of it's own: Is there an answer? It must be assumed that these are the right questions- if they're not, the problem is then with the capacity for human understanding and comprehension. Were that the problem, then the answer would most certainly be beyond comprehension, and not worth pursuing.
Since humans have lived successfully as a species for the past several million years, having an answer to this question is clearly not a prerequisite to intelligence in the theory of natural selection, so it must be that the pursuit of these answers is a journey to be undertaken in and of itself- an definitive answer will never come, but the milestones on the journey itself are well worth the time. Looking at the most influential people to live, the lists generally put similar names at the top: Jesus Christ, Siddhartha Guatama (The Buddha), the Prophet Mohammed, Isaac Newton, and Albert Einstein often make the cut. Religious leaders and scientists- no politicians.
These two categories each tell something specific. The first tell morals, the second tell facts. The two don't have to be mutually exclusive, but often are. The reasoning for this has already been lain- science has done tremendously well at showing there is no universal "good" and "evil"- from the standpoint of biology or sociology, the only good and evil are what helps an intelligent society function. That said, science in no way precludes the possibility of a moral structure. In order for a code of morals, or more broadly, for an ethical framework, there has to be some consideration of what makes a human.
The physiological answer is straightforward: eyes, ears, mouth, bilateral symmetry, arms, legs, lungs, heart, brain, etc. Add the clinical definition of brain-dead, and there's a person. The religious answer is much simpler: a person has a soul. Both these answers leave something to be desired, though. Julius Caesar and Jesus Christ are no longer people because they both died two millenia ago. Julius Caesar was not a person (by Dante's account) because he was not able to have a soul, or at least not a soul capable of accepting Jesus Christ as his lord and saviour. More importantly for today's technological society, neither is a decent definition for a primary key in a database.
The task of finding a unique definition that works for all aspects of academic pursuit in defining a human may be impossible. The United States Social Security system assigns a unique number to every person who receives Social Security benefits (that is, every US citizen and many foreigners who are able to claim benefits). This system, developed in the 1930s, is prone to many problems, the least of which being fraud. This is, then, not a good system- two (or many more) distinct human beings can be identified by the same number. There is a similar problem with passports, birth certificates, and even DNA sequences, fingerprints, and retinal scans. As fast as technology can find a new "unique" identifier, there is a technological way to circumvent that method of identification.
Identification of humans is, to be fair, only necessary in a society based on trust- which is every society. There is an implicit trust occurring every time two or more people engage in conversation- trust that the information conveyed is the information that is wanted, and that it is received as intended. Without this trust, communication would have no meaning as a medium for the exchange of ideas. This trust can of course be bent and broken in many ways, but it must be seen that as a whole, the concept of trust works. Solving the problem of identification is not the goal, but it is important as a springboard for many other questions, including one posed already: what makes a human?
In the Descartian view of mind-body duality, expressed in every mainstream religion, the soul and thoughts of a human are distinctly separate from the body of the person. If this is the case, then only our thoughts are important. If this is not that case, then the human simply ends at the skin. However, both views are simplistic, though the second seems to have more sway in modern (especially legal) thought. If the first answer is correct, then what is a thought, or the soul? There is no physiological evidence of a "soul" as separate from a body, so for the scientific mind the separation of thought must be the deciding factor. Neuroscience has a rough sketch of what makes a thought- electrochemical impulses focused in the cortex but effecting the rest of the body.
If thoughts are as simple as this biological view presents, then it should be possible, in theory, to re-create the physiological functioning of the nervous system in a working model different from the model provided by a creature's DNA. Where, then, does the "person" end, or begin? Many sci-fi authors have tackled this problem, to varying degrees. Most hold the view that sentience can indeed be emulated, though in every case there is a tremendous conflict between these "artificial" life forms and their "organic" or "natural" creators.
The question also works in the opposite direction, and is rather more pressing in the context of replacing parts of the human body with "artificial" or "mechanical" replacements. The case of amputees with specially designed running limbs allows these people, who have the full rights of any other human being, the ability to run much faster and easier then their completely "natural" counterparts. These devices are of course not allowed in today's competitive events, but if they were, many world records would be shattered. Were they allowed, there would also be a population of athletes who deliberately amputate limbs in order to use these devices.
If that sounds preposterous, it is already happening. The issue of steroids and doping is a tremendous issue in many sports, most visibly the Olympics, the Tour de France, and US Major League Baseball. The subculture of body mutilation for artistic purposes is also an example of the field emerging as "transhumanism" - in that case, using the body as a canvas for expression of creativity. The entire field raises the fundamental question of what it means to be human, a much larger and more complex question that simply answering "Homo sapien". The issue grows larger when considering what technology will enable.
Already the Internet, and Wikipedia especially, has begun to shift the focus from "Just In case" knowledge to "just in time" knowledge. As computing technology gives people the ability to work faster, so to does every other technology increase the rate of growth of the body of human knowledge. This body of knowledge may be what makes humanity as a whole a special race, and worth doing everything possible to preserve it's continued existence.
The most interesting issue for transhumanism, however, lies in its intrinsic connection with technology and the pace of technological innovations. Assuming the concept behind Moore's Law and the "Law of Accelerating Returns" is correct, then the continued increase in the pace of technological development, as well as information processing capabilities, presents a future that, without preemptive consideration and considerable foresight, will be left to a moral, ethical, and philosophical view of human's existence that is only capable of being reactionary to the course of history (if it is not already).
Such a philosophical view of the world will have to attempt to answer the fundamental question of what it means to be human. The answer must be specific enough to be flexible long after the evolution of "artificial intelligence", any transhuman activities, and be applicable for potential contact with, if not applicable directly for, any extra-terrestrial contact. At the same time, it must be specific enough to provided a basis on which to build both an ethical code and a legal code of living. In short, the best theory will work for any intelligence.
This is probably impossible. It is, if not the holy grail of philosophical work, at very least a far enough goal to be pursuable from today's view. Of course, the reply is nothing is impossible, so it's pursuit alone will be beneficial to future endeavours.
The first task is, as stated, to define what it means to be "human", or more generally, "intelligent". There is no accepted or complete definition, but a good starting point is goal-oriented and capable of learning. This is a good starting point because it covers a wide variety of examples, and each example is well-ordered against other examples. That is, it is capable to measure capabilities to carry out goals of various complexities, as well as measure learning ability. The "well" part of "well-ordered" will be left to future psychologists with better tools. To the philosopher, however, the purpose isn't to grant the ability to define one specimen as better than another, but rather to start to recognize what others are capable of.
With the ordering of the intelligence of creatures comes both a hierarchy inherent in the biosphere, as well as a responsibility for higher animals, especially those with human-level faculty, to recognize the effects of their actions on their surroundings. It is in the capability of sentient beings to direct their actions to be, at very least, not detrimental to the environment around them. This is nearly a common sense survival argument- it is not easy, or all that possible, to survive in a post-apocolyptic world. Therefore, sentient creatures should ensure they take the best care of their environment as possible.
With preservation as a fundamental tenant for good living, the second goal is democracy, in the liberal sense that all beings are ensured a good quality of life. The criterion for quality of life, however, is much harder to measure. Many views today have similar tenants health, freedom, happiness. The first is directly measurable. The second is harder to measure empirically, but organizations such as Reporters without Borders have made great strides in providing such tools. The final question can only be answered by one person- the person the knowledge is needed from. There is no external measure for a person's happiness. It seems, then, to be very difficult to approach from a scientific view.
The difficulty lies not in the mechanics of thought, but the myriad of subtle varieties within thought, each leading to different conclusions about the "known" world. Every sentient being is working toward some goal. Most critters have simple goals, and probably don't realize they're working at a task- bees are just doing what bees do. More creative creatures, like humans, have much more complex goals, and often many goals, generally working at cross purposes both against themselves and especially against others. Even complex goals with many sub-goals will often have conflicts and cross-purposes before its completion.
The encounters of goals working at cross purposes (which is every encounter, even when the purpose is generally the same) is a conflict. Every time two or more sentient being interact, the resolution of that conflict has a tremendous influence on how each being will act in the future. What is truly amazing is that there is so little violence in conflict resolution. The general dislike of violence as a tool for conflict resolution is evidence better than any other for the evolution of complex societal structures in any social creature (that is, every creature). Looking at human history, it seems these social rules fall into one fundamental rule: don't hurt people, but if you have to, it's better to hurt people outside the tribe.
The desire to completely rid society of violence is probably another impossible task. In fact, it is probably very difficult to arbitrarily impose any specific sort of rule on a group of people, or even one person. It seems that rules must be accepted by each and every individual person of their own accord- even such extreme measures as those employed by Big Brother in Orwell's 1984 would not be perfect. People are finicky creatures, and the ability for abstract thought seems to have given humans the need for the freedom to exercise that thought. That freedom can only be given up willingly, and can be reclaimed at any time.
With the ability to decide whether an action is good or bad comes the imperative to use those faculties.