Shylock Is Shakespeare.
Kennedy, William J.
Kenneth Gross. Shylock Is Shakespeare.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006. xii + 202 pp. index.
$22.50. ISBN: 0-226-30977-4.
Think of it: an author (Shakespeare) and his character (Shylock)
share problematic traits. Professionally, both trade in suspect
currencies (the author's words, the moneylender's gold)
capable of being valued, devalued, transformed, and counterfeited.
Socially, both are caught between worlds as deviants and outsiders, not
quite reputable denizens of a borderland (the actor-author's
theater, the usurer's back alley) where conventional mores are held
in suspension and can be controversialized. Morally, both are capable of
offending and of being offended with their pitiless gaze upon the
commerce of the world, their awful pragmatism with respect to human
conduct, and their horrible rejection by those they serve (the
dramatist's audience, the broker's clients). Yet in a
startling way, both are doubles of those they serve--audiences and
clients--who resist identifying with their own actions as represented on
the stage (in the case of Shakespeare) and with their bondage to law and
money (in the case of Shylock). In a brilliant Joycean riff on the
linguistic pull of their names, each beginning with sh and shocked by a
k (14-15), Kenneth Gross launches his investigation into homologies
between author and character that disturb our reception of the play, of
its historical roots, and of the cultural assumptions that haunt its
afterlife. It is one of the very few books that have altered my view of
Shakespeare, of his radical dramaturgy, and of the environment that
begot both.
Of the several forks that Gross's argument takes--the book
unfolds in fourteen chapters, each pursuing its own route--two captured
my particular attention and seemed to order its dominant claims. First,
Gross conceives of Shylock as "a threshold character," one
that marks "something of a discovery for Shakespeare that will
become the fuel of his later plays" (103). Here we find the
playwright working with the "opaque uncertainty" and
"riddling representation" that he would develop in his later
tragedies, particularly in the ethos of Hamlet, Othello, Lear, and
Macbeth (147). Specifically, it concerns a character who fashions
"his status as an alien or monster into a performance he can turn
against his persecutors" (153). Second, following from this line of
reasoning, Gross argues that Shylock adumbrates a "poetics of
repugnancy" (149), an esthethique du mal that announces
Shakespeare's distinctive contribution to the European and North
American canon of literature. This poetics evinces both formal
properties that compel our pleasure and amazement and historical
determinations that gave rise to such an aesthetic in a cultural
context. Specifically--and here I am extrapolating on the basis of my
own interests in intellectual history--it arises in the transition from
a late medieval society to an early modern secular one.
One formal sign of Shylock's repugnance is the tic of
compulsive repetition that distinguishes his patterns of speech
throughout the play, notably in his most famous monologue: "Hath
not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands?... If you prick us, do we not
bleed?... And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" (3.1.54-62).
As Gross's fine-grained textual analysis shows, these repetitions
are by turns monstrous and comic. They are monstrous because they signal
Shylock's unrelenting attachment to his legal bond and because they
reinforce this attachment at a time when the medieval idea of bond as
expressing "communal relationships" was giving way to
"the arbitrariness and hyperrationalism of modern contract
law" (61). Shylock embarks upon an exploration of social
relationships in a new commercial order, releasing the "furies of
the law" even as he becomes their victim (65). His horrendous
resentment becomes "a guarantor of our freedom of will and of our
embeddedness in a structure of human relations," just as it
affronts the quality of mercy and our communal dependences (71).
Dramatically, Gross pushes his argument further. Shylock's
monstrosity manifests the "paradoxical generosity" of a clown,
and it gathers comic force as it displays Shylock's
"relentless embrace of his own failure and humiliation" (80).
Deriving comic capital from his deep wound, the character projects the
improvisational genius of a puppet-like Punch no less than of Yahweh in
the Book of Job.
At nearly every turn in his complex argument, Gross confronts the
issue of anti-Semitism whether in Shakespeare's time or in the
subsequent theatrical, critical, and mimetic reception of his play. And
in every instance he argues strenuously against the factionalism that
has imbued pro-Shylock/anti-Shylock debates. As Gross weighs the issues,
Shylock is the "unacknowledged double" of the Venetians who
dominate the play. Certainly he is "both the thing Antonio hates
and the creature who in his activities is closest to him" (49). But
he is also the double of Portia-as-Balthazar, "the witty, pragmatic
disguiser, someone concealed from others and yet not concealed from
herself" (97). Confronting Portia's Pauline theology of mercy,
Shylock exposes its ambiguity and reinforces its limitations, and in the
end compels his audience to evaluate the stereotypes of its doctrine as
a disguise for vanity and unreason. Part of the play's scandal is
that Shylock wants to be hated, to the extent that "his own
repugnancy forces others to reveal themselves or hide themselves more
deeply" (149). No wonder his name has become a metonymy for
anti-Semitic outrage: "In his mad embrace of the formality of law
(especially in the claims he makes for his bond) he seems to reveal just
how fragile his rights under the law are, how incomplete and isolated he
is" (156). He seems to prove the inevitability of isolation that
this very outrage results from and produces.
My review has passed over the rich texture that Gross weaves into
his discussions of performance history, notably by Laurence Olivier and
(in absentia) Zero Mostel; of literary re-imaginings, notably by
Heinrich Heine, Ludwig Lewisohn, and Philip Roth; of scripture,
Kabbalah, and modern philosophy, notably by Gershom Scholem and Hannah
Arendt. All this is to say: read Shakespeare Is Shylock for yourself.
WILLIAM J. KENNEDY
Cornell University