Iago and the nature of evil

What sort of evil does Iago represent in Othello? Consider how literary critic A. C. Bradley answers the question below.

'Iago stands supreme among Shakespeare's evil characters because the greatest intensity and subtlety of imagination has gone to his making, and because he illustrates in the most perfect combination the two facts concerning evil which seem to have impressed Shakespeare most.

The first of these is the fact that perfectly sane people exist in whom fellow-feeling of any kind is so weak that an almost absolute egotism becomes possible to them, and with it those hard vices - such as ingratitude and cruelty - which to Shakespeare were far the worst. The second is that such evil is compatible, and even appears to ally itself easily, with exceptional powers of will and intellect. In the latter respect Iago is nearly or quite the equal of Richard, in egoism he is the superior, and his inferiority in passion and massive force only makes him more repulsive. How is it then that we can bear to contemplate him; nay, that, if we really imagine him, we feel admiration and some kind of sympathy? Henry the Fifth tells us:

There is some soul of goodness in things evil,

Would men observingly distil it out;

but here, it may be said, we are show a thing absolutely evil, and - what is more dreadful still - this absolute evil is united with supreme intellectual power. Why is the representation tolerable, and why do we not accuse its author either of untruth or of desperate pessimism?

In the first place, Iago is not merely negative or evil - far from it. Those very forces that moved him and made his fate - sense of power, delight in performing a difficult and dangerous action, delight in the exercise of artistic skill - are not at all evil things. We sympathise with one or other of them almost every day of our lives. And, accordingly, though in Iago they are combined with something detestable and so contribute to evil, our perception of them is accompanied with sympathy. In the same way, Iago's insight, dexterity, quickness, address, and the like, are in themselves admirable things; the perfect man would possess them. And certainly he would possess also Iago's courage and self-control, and, like Iago, would stand above the impulses of mere feeling, lord of his inner world. All this goes to evil ends in Iago, but in itself it has a great worth; and, although in reading, of course, we do not sift it out and regard it separately, it inevitably affects us and mingles admiration with our hatred or horror.

All of this, however, might apparently co-exist with absolute egoism and total want of humanity. But, in the second place, it is not true that in Iago this egoism and this want are absolute, and that in this sense he is a thing of mere evil. They are frightful, but if they were absolute Iago would be a monster, not a man. The fact is, he tries to make them absolute and cannot succeed; and the traces of conscience, shame and humanity, though faint, are discernible. If his egoism were absolute he would be perfectly indifferent to the opinion of others; and he clearly is not so. His very irritation at goodness, again, is a sign that his faith in his creed is not entirely firm; and it is not entirely firm because he himself has a perception, however dim, of the goodness of goodness. What is the meaning of the last reason he gives himself for killing Cassio:

He hath a daily beauty in his life

That makes me ugly?

Does he mean that he is ugly to others? Then he is not an absolute egoist. Does he mean that he is ugly to himself? Then he makes an open confession of moral sense. And, once more, if he really possessed no moral sense, we should never have heard those soliloquies which so clearly betray his uneasiness and his unconscious desire to persuade himself that he had some excuse for the villainy he contemplates. These seem to be indubitable proofs that, against his will, Iago is a little better than his creed, and has failed to withdraw himself wholly from the human atmosphere about him.'

To continue reading this discussion follow the link below to p.154 of "Othello" from A. C. Bradley's book Shakespearean Tragedy available to read online. http://www.scribd.com/doc/33323542/Othello

A. C. Bradley (1851-1935) was a professor at Oxford. His book Shakespearean Tragedy (1904) was one of the most significant works of Shakespearean criticism of the twentieth century. Bradley has sometimes been criticised for writing of Shakespeare's characters as though they were real people.

Does Casio's promotion liberate Iago?

This post is a continuation of the critic A. C. Bradley's discussion of Iago's motivations, so read the post Iago: a boy who torments frogs before reading this post.

'Iago's longing to satisfy the sense of power is, I think, the strongest of the forces that drive him on. But there are two others to be noticed.

One is the pleasure in an action very difficult and perilous and, therefore, intensely exciting. This action sets all his powers on the strain. He feels the delight of one who executes successfully a feat thoroughly congenial to his special aptitude, and only just within his compass; and, as he is fearless by nature, the fact that a single slip will cost him his life only increases his pleasure. His exhilaration breaks out in the ghastly words with which he greets the sunrise after the night of the drunken tumult which has led to Cassio's disgrace: 'By the mass, 'tis morning. Pleasure and action make the hours seems short.' Here, however, the joy in exciting action is quickened by other feelings. It appears more simply elsewhere in such a way as to suggest that nothing but such actions gave him happiness, and that his happiness was greater if the action was destructive as well as exciting. We find it, for instance, in his gleeful cry to Roderigo, who proposes to shout to Brabantio in order to wake him and tell him of his daughter's flight:

Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell

As when, by night and negligence, the fire

Is spied in populous cities.

All through that scene; again, in the scene where Cassio is attached and Roderigo murdered; everywhere where Iago is in physical action, we catch this sound of almost feverish enjoyment. His blood, usually so cold and slow, is racing through his veins.

But Iago, finally is not simply a man of action; he is an artist. His action is a plot, the intricate plot of a drama, and in the conception and execution of it he experiences the tension and the joy of artistic creation.'

In comparing Iago to a dramatist A. C. Bradley says 'Shakespeare put a good deal of himself into Iago'. Bradley points to Iago's soliloquies where he broods over his plot, drawing out an outline and puzzling how to develop it and then gradually clarifying it as he works upon it or lets it unfold. Bradley says Iago's musings are similar to the musings a playwright has in the early stages of dramatic composition.

'Such, then, seems to be the chief ingredients of the force which, liberated by his resentment at Cassio's promotion, drives Iago from inactivity into action, and sustains him through it. And, to pass to a new point, this force completely possesses him; it is his fate. It is like the passion with which a tragic hero wholly identifies himself, and which bears him on to his doom.'

Bradley believes that Iago is caught in his own web, and 'could not liberate himself if he would'. He notes that Iago 'never shows a trace of wishing to do so, not a trace of hesitation, of looking back, or of fear, any more than of remorse'.

Bradley states: 'Iago's fate - which is himself - has completely mastered him: so that in the later scenes, where the improbability of the entire success of a design built on so many different lies forces itself on the reader, Iago appears for moments not as a consummate schemer, but as a man absolutely infatuated and delivered over to certain destruction.'

To continue reading this discussion follow the link below to p.154 of "Othello" from A. C. Bradley's book Shakespearean Tragedy available to read online.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/33323542/Othello

A. C. Bradley (1851-1935) was a professor at Oxford. His book Shakespearean Tragedy (1904) was one of the most significant works of Shakespearean criticism of the twentieth century. Bradley has sometimes been criticised for writing of Shakespeare's characters as though they were real people.

Iago: a contemporary tragedy?

James Earl Jones won an Obie award for his portrayal of Othello in a production in Central Park, New York in 1964. He went on to play the Moor a further six times and has been hailed as the greatest American Othello.

Read Jones' study of the role below and see if you agree with his understanding of the character. It is worth comparing his study of Iago to that of A. C. Bradley's. Note that he never once calls Iago evil.

'I contend that Iago is the most complex character that Shakespeare ever created. He has also been called vengeful and nihilistic, a man of 'diseased intellectual activity, with an almost perfect indifference to moral good or evil.'

Iago is dangerous to those who love and trust him because he convinced them over time that he loves them in return, and that he can be trusted absolutely.

The tragedies that happen to Othello and Desdemona are grand, classical tragedies. There is a much more modern tragedy in the character of Iago. His is a very contemporary tragedy that should not be thrown away. To view Iago as a jokester and a clown - just a Machiavellian gangster - is to demean and distort the characters of Iago and Othello, as well as to diminish the tragedy of the whole play; but it takes a strong director and a strong vision of the play to lead the actor playing Iago into the tragic and mysterious depths of Iago's true nature.

I am looking for a model for Iago. To understand him we have to understand Iago's fall from grace. So who is a role model? Darth Vader?

Consider Lucifer, who fell because he failed to 'play the game' with God. Iago feels that he has lost to Cassio, who plays the game better. He certainly works for a boss who is solitary and secretive so as not to assure Iago of his real value. This causes Iago anguish, as he tells us at the outset of the play, when he is denied the office of a lieutenant to Othello: '... by the faith of man,/ I know my price, I am worth no worse a place (Act 1, scene i). And Iago's real value comes from his sinister side. He is the Goebbels to Hitler, the Beria to Stalin. Othello, while no Hitler or Stalin, was secretive and solitary, and he did not get the word out to people very well. He could have had a discussion with Iago about the appointment; he could have had a discussion with Brabantio about the marriage. Othello's failure to do so contributes mightily to the estrangement of Brabantio, his beloved friend, and to the animosity of Iago, his trusted ensign.

[...]

The key factor of money establishes Iago's relation to the whole play. He is a common man who lacks the social wherewithal that Othello, Desdemona, Cassio and even Roderigo possess. He occupies a rung further down the social ladder, and where he is, he is not going to be successful. He was counting on being elevated to Othello's lieutenant. Was this delusion? Casting is important here: Iago has to appear to qualify as the general's lieutenant, at least on the battlefield, even if he lacks Cassio's social finesse, and, like, Lucifer, he should be gorgeous to look at. The reason for his fall is engimatic to him. He was not passed over because he lacked social appeal. He lacks the formal social graces of a higher station, but he is very personable and very smart.

When Iago perceives that he has been crossed, he becomes quite dangerous to the whole society and he will take it all down with him. Now everything tastes like shit in his mouth, including his own marriage. He has not found a Desdemona to fulfil his life. He believes his station, his wealth, his chance at having a life - all have been ruined when Othello has passed over him for a promotion.

Iago is extremely clever. This makes Iago's life even more tragic. Such a mind is a terrible thing to waste, and it doesn't have a shot in the world. Iago evokes Janus - the two-faced God (Act 1, scene ii). He says to Roderigo, 'Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago ... I am not what I am' (Act 1, scene i).

When Iago says, 'I am not what I am,' he seems to me full of regret, as if to suggest, 'The "I am" is what I could have been and should have been.' There is a universal complaint here: I am nobody. I know I have a soul; but nothing else confirms that. I am not what I am.

Consider him as a Janus figure. Each of Iago's Janus 'faces' is genuine, they just look out in opposite directions, as the faces of Janus do. When Iago is with those he loves, he loves them. When he is not, we have a quite different Iago. When he says to Othello, 'You know I love you,' he does love Othello, believe it or not. As much as Iago says to Roderigo, 'I hate the Moor,' he loves him. I don't mean homosexually, either, but soul to soul. Othello and Iago have shared a military life together; they have built that trust between them. Ironically, Iago has a great deal of fear-based respect for Othello, yet he tries to convinces Roderigo that he hates the Moor.

We need to see Iago as a human being. Ultimately, this makes his tragedy all the more terrifying.'

Excerpts taken from Actors on Shakespeare, Othello, James Earl Jones.

Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:

In following him, I follow but myself ...

For when my outward action does demonstrate

The native act, and figure of my heart,

In complement extern, 'tis not long after,

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,

For doves to peck at: I am not what I am.

Iago to Roderigo (Act 1, scene i)