Coriolanus

Yeah, I should probably write these right after I finish reading the books instead of waiting a week. I had some thoughts while I was reading The Tragedy of Coriolanus,* but I’m not sure I remember all of them. Let’s see…

In the introduction, I remember the editor saying this wasn’t a popular play, and it wasn’t really very well liked. He also said something to the effect that it was because it was about someone who should have been popular, but was actually disliked instead, and that we find it easier to side with his antagonists than with him. Hmmm. Well. I guess I’m just different.

Then Netflix described a film version starring Ralph Fiennes and Gerard Butler* as a “tale about the arrogant general who is banished by the republic he has protected at all costs…” Hmmm. Well. Yes, I am just different.

I do agree that Coriolanus should have been popular and wasn’t. But I didn’t want to side with his antagonists at all. They were painted as smarmy, underhanded creeps. Why would I side with them? And arrogant? Maybe the person writing the description of the movie only watched the very beginning or something. Yes, Coriolanus (then Caius Marcius) does essentially spit on the common man with his words, but… context, people. His response to their … revolt, essentially … is one of rage and confusion: Why are you people so ignorant/impatient/ungrateful/whatever? And he doesn’t hold his tongue; he just let’s all his anger out. In harsh terms, sure, but it’s clearly the anger speaking and not any part of his rational self. It’s one explosion, but not the norm for him… at least as I read it.

I’ll give them “pride,” though. Which is totally founded. I mean, he has every right to be proud. He fearlessly and devotedly fights for his republic (Rome). And he’s successful. He always wins. So he should be proud. But arrogance?

Later, when he’s to run for consul and they want him to show off his battle scars to get the common people to “give him their voice,” he refuses. He says he doesn’t think he should go around saying, “Hey, look at my scars. Look what I’ve done for you. Look how great I am.” Kind of the opposite of arrogance, don’t you think?

I see the play as a commentary on the fickleness… inconstancy… unfaithfulness… tenuous loyalty… whatever you wanna call it of man. While he’s railing on them at the beginning, he says the important thing. The foreshadowing thing: (I paraphrase) “You’re all gonna like one thing one minute then hate it the next. You cheer for one guy now, then later you’ll spit on him. You have no loyalty.” And it’s true. They hate Caius Marcius as “an enemy of the people,” even while he’s out there laying all their actual enemies to waste. Then after he comes back, they suddenly all love him. Then a few words from a couple of tribunes (who, in my opinion feel threatened by him: If the people don’t hate Coriolanus will these tribunes lose their control of them?), and suddenly he’s again the enemy.

Isn’t it similar to the Biblical story of Jesus? Throngs follow him and seem to love him for a while. Then it only takes a smallish group of Pharisees and Sadducees who connive against him (another case of a group who wants to control the common people feeling that control threatened?) to ultimately turn all but his few actual loyal disciples against him. Brutus and Sicinius trick the people into believing Coriolanus has made mockery of them and in doing so has committed treason. The Pharisees and Sadducees convince the people that Jesus is a blasphemer, that ultimate treason against Jehovah. Coriolanus‘s “Banish him!” certainly echoes the Gospels’ “Crucify him!” And finally, we have the tragic, and unwarranted, death of each man.

Sure, there’s more to it than that. We could explore the fact that his mother actually says the words “had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.” Wow. Not exactly nurturing, there, mom.

And should we question Coriolanus’s own loyalty? I suppose on the surface… or “to the letter”… If he were altruistic (who is?), certainly his betrayal of his own republic would be a true sign of his lack of loyalty. But in context — they’d banished him completely — you might agree that his republic had indeed become his enemy. Or at least the fact of that emnity had become known to him.

So maybe I’m more of a surface reader or something and didn’t get the intricacies that I should have so I could have sided with Brutus and Sicinius (ummm. no, never.)… or I could have seen how much of an arrogant jerk Coriolanus was. But I’ll stay happy with my unscholarly reading. At least for now.