King Lear

Order opens up to reveal chaos. And the same pattern is visible in erratic human behaviour. Lear, having cursed Goneril with sterility, rushes back to embrace her. Astonishingly, Regan first conspires in the blinding of Gloucester and then tenderly asks him, rather than her wounded husband, “How dost my lord?” Mr. Hytner ushers us into a morally topsy-turvy universe in which good and evil frequently cohabit within the same person.⁴⁹

One cannot escape the fact that what Regan and Goneril do is evil and unnatural. In Buzz Goodbody’s 1974 production, which cut the role of Cornwall, “Regan put out Gloucester’s eyes unaided, with a broach.”⁵⁰ Modern stagings of the blinding scene nearly always show Regan’s active participation in the mutilation of Gloucester. Emily Raymond, who played Goneril in 2004, felt that Goneril and Regan “had a brutal upbringing—[with] smacks of physical violence and mental abuse. I think Lear probably took his daughters to hangings and taught them the brutal way to deal with traitors—you don’t hang them, you pluck out their eyes and let them live, to serve as a deterrent to others.”⁵¹

What impact does it have to turn the violence and evil in Lear into something psychological instead of metaphysical? Does the implication that it is somehow the “natural” result of a bad, neglected upbringing diminish the epic nature of the play and the horrific impact of the sisters’ monstrous acts? Lear’s world is thrown out of order by his inability to be an adequate father and king. James I, in his publication The True Law of Free Monarchies, underlined the divine right of kings and the duty of all monarchs to treat their subjects as a caring father would do his children. Lear’s misunderstanding of his role as a fixed point in the natural order of things and his irresponsibility in relation to his position in society unleash unnatural chaos.

In 1993 Adrian Noble emphasized violent cosmic forces prevalent in the play by use of an abstract but symbolic set:

When David Bradley’s superlative Gloucester, his eyes gouged out, staggers away from the scene of atrocity and from Simon Dormandy’s chillingly, psychopathic Cornwall, the focus clears at last. Noble used the Folio edition of the text, so cutting the aid of Gloucester’s servants after the blinding. The sightless Bradley gazes in the direction of a blue and white model of the globe, fixed above the stage. As he stares, a crack runs across the globe’s circumference and the sands of time begin to pour out of it. The society of King Lear, with family life collapsing in warfare and inhuman cruelty … is ominous of all civilized human life ruined and coming to an end.⁵²

In this bleak vision,

Noble’s most original stroke is to suggest that the cruelty unleashed by Lear’s folly spreads to even the conventionally good characters. The chief beneficiary is Simon Russell Beale’s extraordinary Edgar who starts as goody-two shoes and who is turned by the horrors he has witnessed into a symbol of revenge. In this production he doesn’t just kill Oswald; he batters his face with a staff as if in retaliation for the blinding of his father. The most unplayable major role in Shakespeare suddenly acquires a specific identity: a man forever tainted by the contagion of violence.⁵³

In his final battle with Edmund, Russell Beale as Edgar tried “to rip out the dying Edmund’s eyes in reprisal.”⁵⁴ Similarly, Bill Alexander’s 2004 production included “chilling touches that alert you afresh to the barbarism of its world. For example, in the climactic duel between Edmund and Edgar, it’s only chance that stops the virtuous brother from exacting primitive ’eye for an eye’ justice”⁵⁵—“In order to force Edmund to drop his arms, [Edgar] grabbed him by either side of his face and pushed his thumbs into his eyes. This reference to the blinding of Gloucester was eerily resonant.”⁵⁶

Our opinion of Edgar will determine how we consider the end of the play. His spiritual journey, which echoes Lear’s, provides him with a unique understanding of humanity and the preciousness of life. But he is also a very human avenger who has to set the world right and provide hope for the future. To overbalance his character with deliberate malicious and violent action furthers a nihilistic vision of the play by removing the certainty of redemption for a lost and barbaric world. Adrian Noble in 1982 stressed this element of unredeemed cruelty. The Guardian critic Michael Billington explains:

Edgar slays Oswald by breaking his back with a staff, and the fraternal duel between Edgar and Edmund is a bare-chested, bloody, unchivalric combat that ends with Edmund’s head being dumped in water. Even at the last the characters look out into the future in a spirit of skeptical uncertainty.⁵⁷