Grieving Autonomy: Mother and Son Relationships in
Titus Andronicus, Hamlet, and Coriolanus.
Meaghan McGowan
Thesis Advisor: Professor Sidney Homan
April 23, 2012
Redacted
McGowan 2
Table of Contents
1. Introduction
2. Titus Andronicus (Tamora and Albarus)
3. Hamlet (Gertrude and Hamlet)
4. Coriolanus (Volumnia and Coriolanus)
5. Conclusion
6. Works Cited
“Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime.”
- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 3
McGowan 3
Introduction
Mother and son relationships in Shakespeare’s tragedies often fall victim to power struggles for independence. Coppélia Kahn states in her book, Man’s Estate, that “Shakespeare’s male characters are engaged in a constant struggle, first to form a masculine identity, then to be secure and productive in it.” Mothers represent the “constant struggle”1 their sons are working to overcome. Through conception and birth, the mother and son bond is formed. However, the development of manhood and sexual identity hinges on the future separation of the son from the mother. Within this paper, I will analyze mother and son relationships from Titus Andronicus,
Hamlet and Coriolanus. Investigating the effects of this separation on both the mother and the son, I found recurring themes of identity, autonomy, grief, anger and reconciliation. These themes emerge as phases of the mother-son relationship in different ways.
In each of the plays, the bond between mother and son results in a shared identity. A woman identifies herself as a mother upon creating the son. In Titus Andronicus, the death of a son results in Tamora’s loss of identity as his mother. Hamlet’s identity is connected to his father. The death of King Hamlet leaves him vulnerable to the influence of Gertrude. In
Coriolanus, Volumnia views her son as a manifestation of herself. The theme of shared identity is further complicated by the son’s need to separate from the mother.
The son’s need for individuality and autonomy leads to separation from the mother. In
Titus Andronicus, Hamlet and Coriolanus, the sons’ separation from the mother is obstructed by her. The failure of the son to distance himself from the mother causes psychological trauma and provides the motivation for the tragic events in the play. Unable to exert autonomy, the son fails to become a man and reacts in anger and violence. The sons of these plays—Albarus, Hamlet
1 Coppélia Kahn, Man’s Estate: Masculine Identity in Shakespeare, (London, UK: University of California, 1981). McGowan 4 and Coriolanus—each strive for autonomy. Meanwhile, their mothers—Tamora, Gertrude and
Volumnia—manipulate them by withholding affection. Tamora promises maternal love to her sons as a reward for violence. Hamlet mistrusts all women as a result of his mother’s infidelity.
Coriolanus wages war on Rome in order to prove his independence from his mother. In each of these cases, the son is left unsatisfied. Even as the son desires autonomy from the mother, he mourns the loss of this powerful bond.
As the inevitable separation occurs, the mother and son mourn the loss of the relationship. Each play deals with the theme of grief. Tamora’s grief in Titus Andronicus transforms her into a monstrous villain. In Hamlet, Hamlet’s grief over Gertrude’s lost purity keeps him in a perpetual state of melancholy. Realizing his need for Volumnia’s approval,
Coriolanus grieves his perceived masculinity. The phase of grief in these plays boils into anger as the characters seek to place blame.
All three of these plays deal with the theme of anger, which consumes the individual and results in the tragic events of the plot. In Titus Andronicus, Tamora’s need for revenge is fueled by her anger; Hamlet’s anger over Gertrude’s death motivates him to take action; Coriolanus’s anger nearly destroys Rome. The phase of anger is essential to the grieving process in the mother-son relationship. While the son desires to distance himself from the mother, his desire for reconciliation complicates his need for independence.
In order to resolve the anger and grief over the loss of the relationship, the mother and son seek reconciliation. Tamora uses revenge to find healing for Albarus’s death; Hamlet reclaims Gertrude’s purity; Coriolanus saves Rome in order to salvage his relationship with
Volumnia. However, these reconciliations come at a great cost to the individual.
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1. Titus Andronicus
Shakespeare’s earliest tragedy, Titus Andronicus, is described as the bloodiest of revenge plays. It also exposes the reality that revenge is a cross-gender and cross-cultural phenomenon
(Willis 26). Tamora emerges as the cruelest, most devious mother portrayed in Shakespeare’s works. As Queen of the Goths, Tamora is the leader of a barbaric, merciless people. Yet, in
Rome, where civility should exist, Tamora is forced to her knees to beg for the life of her eldest son, Albarus. Roles are reversed as Rome is infected with the “cruel, irreligious piety” characteristic of the Goths (1.1.133). As Tamora enters Rome, the feminized city is possessed by a dangerous threat to her innocence. The Andronici protect Rome from the Goths as a man would protect a woman from rape.2 Men dominate feminized Rome for “Romanness is virtually identical with an ideology of masculinity” (Kahn 2). Becoming “incorporate in Rome,” (1.1.467)
Tamora adopts the “ideology of masculinity.” Tamora’s presence in Rome infects the city and turns the city against its protectors. Once spurned by their female Rome, the Andronici vow revenge. The process of transforming Rome from a civilized woman to a barbaric woman stems from Tamora’s loss of identity and subsequent grief.
Phase 1: Grief
Pleading for Titus’s mercy, Tamora compares her love for Albarus to the love Titus has for his lost sons: “And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, / O, think my son to be as dear to me”
(1.1.110-111). Titus claims that he must sacrifice Albarus as punishment for the death of his sons: “Your son is marked, and die he must, / T’appease their groaning shadows that are gone”
(1.1 128-129). The murder of Albarus results in the need for future sacrifices, as Tamora must now honor Albarus’s “groaning shadow.” Tamora’s “passion for her son” is the only expression
2 David Willbern, “Rape and Revenge in Titus Andronicus,” English Literary Renaissance, (State University of New York McGowan 6 of true tenderness shown by the barbaric queen. With Albarus’s death, Tamora loses her humanity and takes on the role of avenger.
Described as a “horrific, devouring mother,”3 Tamora embodies the suffocating mother established by Janet Adelman. Politcally powerful, Tamora poses a threat to male society.
Tamora becomes the suffocating mother as she dominates Saturninus as a sexualized mother figure. Upon becoming empress of Rome, Tamora begins her plot for revenge. For Saturninus, she acts as both wife and mother, asking him to “be ruled by me, be won at last” (1.1 446). The naïve Saturninus finds himself so captivated by Tamora’s beguiling nature that he fails to see her true identity. Tamora claims to “advise the emperor for his good” while manipulating him for the good of her own schemes. Her success in convincing Saturninus to falsely forgive Titus is twofold, as she calls for the Andronici to kneel in the streets begging for “pardon of his majesty”
(1.1 477). Kneeling before the emperor begging for mercy, Titus parallels Tamora pleading for
Albarus’s life. The ground is set for Tamora’s “sharp revenge” as the brutally, elegant symmetrical structure of the play is presented: Tamora must kneel for her son’s life, so Titus will later kneel for his sons’ lives.
Doubling in Titus appears through “jarringly appropriate incongruities”4 (Willis 34).
Shakespeare shows us that villains and heroes share common experiences of traumatic loss and humiliation. Tamora is Titus’s mirror opposite in that she illustrates the extremes of his character. Shakespeare uses female characters such as Tamora and Lavinia to create a tragic hero out of Titus. Tamora is both victim and abuser. Tamora adopts Titus’s cruelty and barbarism in order to avenge the crimes against her family. The cycle of revenge begins as Tamora and Titus are equally entitled to vengeance. “The avenger mirrors the enemy by committing the very evils
3 Janet Adelman, Suffocating Mothers, (London, UK: Routeledge, 1992) 4 James Hirsh, “Laughter at Titus Andronicus” Essays in Theatre 7 (1988): 59-74 McGowan 7 for which vengeance is sought” (Green 321). Emulating one another, Tamora and Titus blur the lines between good and evil for “revenge exists in the margin between justice and crime.”5 Titus and Tamora come to represent Roman and Goth culture in their violent and horrible actions.
Molly Easo Smith refers to this phenomenon as “the myth of the Other.”6 Titus and Tamora believe the other to be more evil than the self, and thus, their vengeance is justified. However, the evil of Titus resides within Tamora and vice versa (Green 322). Once the cycle of revenge begins, the competition for sufficient justice escalates.
The elegant symmetry continues with the juxtaposition of quarrelling brothers, Bassianus and Saturninus, and Chiron and Demetrius. In the same way that Bassianus and Saturninus fight over Rome, Chiron and Demetrius fight over Lavinia. Similar phrasing even appears, Saturninus talks of “my loving followers, / Plead my successive title with your swords” (1.1.3-4), and
Chiron states that “my sword upon thee shall approve / And plead my passions for Lavinia’s love” (2.1.35-36).7 These two sets of brothers establish the tension of the play, which is to maintain a balance of attack and defense. In the play, attack refers most often to rape, and defense is the attempt to protect the woman (Rome or Lavinia) from attack. After losing Rome to
Saturninus, who clearly desires maternal affection and acceptance, Bassianus refuses to lose
Lavinia to his brother as well. Bassianus’s removal of Lavinia is referred to as rape by
Saturninus: “Rape you call it, my lord, to seize my own / My true-betrothed love, and now my wife?” (1.1.417). This early reference to rape foreshadows Lavinia’s actual ravishment later in the play (Willbern 160-61). The women of the play are treated as objects to be silenced and controlled by men. The only way to escape this objectification is to take on a masculine identity.
5 Douglas E. Green, “‘Her Martyr’d Signs’: Gender and Tragedy in Titus Andronicus,” Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol.4, No.3 (Autumn, 1989), pp317-326 6 Molly Easu Smith, “Spectacle of Torment in Titus Andronicus,” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900, Vol. 36, No. 2, Tudor and Stuart Drama (Spring 1996), pp 315-331 7 Willbern p. 165 McGowan 8
Phase 2: Identity
Tamora’s loss of identity as Albarus’s mother leads to a transformation. Her new identity as man is masked by her exoticism and sexuality. Referred to as “Semiramus,” the Assyrian queen known for cruelty and beauty, and “foul adulteress,” Tamora is molded by patriarchal stereotypes (Willis 36). While her sexual nature plays a major role in her plot for revenge,
Tamora is motivated by the grief of the death of her son. Albarus’s death is a blemish on the family’s honor and Tamora’s identity as a mother. Shakespeare transforms Tamora into an avenger despite her gender and overt sexuality. Fueled by remorse and anger for Albarus’s brutal death, Tamora utilizes common misogynistic views of women to mask her schemes.
Shakespeare questions Elizabethan assumptions about the avenger. Tamora’s loss of identity as a mother leads her to abandon femininity and become the masculine avenger.
Unlike Titus who can deal with the death of his sons through ritual burial and a nurturing community, Tamora must suffer the “double death”8 of her son and her identity as his mother alone. Her humiliation in combination with her grief fuels her villainy. Swearing to Saturninus,
Tamora promises to one day “massacre them all, / And raze their faction and their father”
(1.1.455-456). Overwhelmed with grief over Albarus’s death, Tamora grows angry at “the cruel father and his traitorous sons / To whom [she] sued for [her] dear son’s life” (457-458). Her grief transitions to anger as she remembers kneeling in Rome’s streets begging for her son’s life. It becomes her goal to “make them know what ‘tis to let a queen / Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain” (459-460).
Phase 3: Anger
Fueled by the memory of her son, Tamora channels her anger towards the Andronici.
8 Deborah Willis, “‘The Gnawing Vulture’”: Revenge, Trauma Theory, and Titus Andronicus,” Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 53, No. 1 (Spring 2002), pp. 21-52 McGowan 9
Titus’s mercilessness and disregard for her importance as queen results in a wound to Tamora’s pride. Consumed with narcissism, revenge becomes Tamora’s only solution to return honor to herself and her son. The tenderhearted mother weeping for her child in the street is dismembered and dies alongside Albarus’s gruesome death. From the ashes of Albarus’s burnt body, Tamora emerges as a seductive villain.9
Losing her identity as a mother, Tamora nourishes her remaining children with anger.
Chiron and Demetrius become offspring of evil and puppets in her schemes. Desperate for maternal love, Chiron and Demetrius devote themselves completely to Tamora’s wants and needs. From the moment of Albarus’s death, Demetrius calls upon the gods to “favour Tamora, the queen of Goths (. . .) To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes” (1.1 142-144). As products of her sexuality, Tamora’s sons are a perfect army to enact her revenge. Igniting the sparks of their lust, Tamora uses Chiron and Demetrius as tools to plunge the first dagger in Titus’s heart.
In the same way that she uses the promise of a mother’s love to manipulate her sons,
Tamora ensnares Aaron in her quest. Supporting Tamora’s cause, Aaron assists Chiron and
Demetrius’s in planning the rape of Lavinia. Aaron’s crude discussion of the rape of Lavinia contrasts his words of love for Tamora at the beginning of Act 2: Scene 2. Commenting on her new position of power as empress, Aaron speaks of her god-like nature and his desire to protect her. He admires Tamora’s ascent to power as “above pale envy’s threatening reach” (1.1.503).
Desiring to keep her safe, Aaron shows signs of tenderness for Tamora. Calling her to “climbeth
Olympus’ top, / Safe out of fortune’s shot / Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash,” Aaron wants Tamora’s power solidified (1.1.500-502). Tamora’s success reflects positively on Aaron as he plans to “mount aloft with thy imperial mistress” (1.1.512). Aaron must “be bright, and shine
9 Willis p. 38 McGowan 10 in pearl and gold” as he waits upon Tamora in order to further his future goals (1.1.518). In loving Tamora, Aaron expresses love for himself and his personal interests. Aaron’s cruel nature in planning the brutal rape of Lavinia proves he has adopted Tamora’s new identity as avenger.
Although her need for revenge has virtually eliminated all tenderness, Tamora briefly pauses in her scheming to enjoy an affectionate moment with Aaron. Requesting Aaron join her in the shade of a tree, Tamora substitutes Aaron for her dead son: “wreathed in the other’s arms, /
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber” (2.2.25-26). Even as she sets revenge in motion,
Tamora seeks refuge “under their sweet shade” (2.2.15). Tamora imagines “sweet melodious birds” singing her to sleep like “a nurse’s song / Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep” (2.2.27-29).
Tamora attempts “a fantasy return to infancy.”10 Remembering the past, Tamora imagines happier times when Albarus, her first born, was alive, and she was his mother. Attempting to substitute her lover for her lost son, Tamora confuses motherly love and sexual love. Aaron cannot relish in the “gleeful boast” of the trees and flowers because “vengeance is in [his] heart” and “death in [his] hand” (2.2.11, 38). Infected by her villainy, Aaron can no longer enjoy pleasures of humanity and tenderness. Revenge becomes a substitute for sexuality. Refusing to give into sexual temptation, Aaron reminds Tamora of the task at hand (Willbern 166). Tamora indulges in the pleasures of the past only briefly before returning to her anger.
Tamora uses the memory of Albarus’s life to rejuvenate her anger and desire to avenge his death. In order to motivate her sons, Tamora uses sadistic fantasies of sexual attack and matricide in her accusations against Bassianus and Lavinia (Willbern 169). Claiming the couple swore to bind her to a tree and abandon her in an “abhorred pit” with fiends and snakes and toads, Tamora creates an image of the womb, thus making the “snakes” and “urchins”
10 Willis p. 39 McGowan 11 grotesquely phallic threats. The feelings of powerlessness Tamora felt while watching Albarus die resurface (Willis 39). Creating the image of being bound to “the body of a dismal yew” and being left “to this miserable death,” (2.2.107-8) Tamora recalls feeling trapped as Albarus was taken away from her. Using her influence as their mother, Tamora tells Chiron and Demetrius to
“revenge it as you love your mother’s life / Or be ye not henceforth called my children”
(2.3.114-115).
Obsessed with wanting Titus to experience humiliation and grief, Tamora confuses
Lavinia with the girl’s father by saying, “hadst thou in person ne’er offended me” (2.2.161).
Tamora is referring to the humiliation she endured at Titus’s hands. Reminding Chiron and
Demetrius of the tears shed “in vain to save your brother from the sacrifice,” Tamora incites anger in her sons (2.2.163). Lavinia becomes the sacrifice as Tamora allows her sons to “use her as you will: / The worse to her the better loved of me” (2.2.166-167). Utilizing her motherly influence over her sons, Tamora offers a mother’s love in exchange for greater cruelty to
Lavinia.
Phase 4: Reconciliation
The grieving mother’s desire to recreate Albarus’s death is apparent in the dismembering of Lavinia’s hands and tongue. Lavinia plays the role of Albarus as Chiron and Demetrius represent Titus and Lucius. Replacing Albarus with Lavinia, Tamora begins to reconcile her need for revenge. However, the sacrifice of a single life as payment for the death of Albarus cannot satisfy Tamora’s hunger for blood. Framing Titus’ sons, Martius and Quintus, for the murder of Bassianus, Tamora increases the punishment for Titus’s crime. Falling into the pit,
Martius and Quintus fulfill Tamora’s prophetic tale of the “abhorred pit” filled with fiends.
The role reversal is complete in Act 3 as Titus is found pleading for the release of his McGowan 12 sons. Ironically, Titus claims that none wept as he has for mercy: “Reverse the doom of death /
And let me say, that never wept before, my tears are now prevailing orators” (3.1.24-26).
However, Titus’s pleas directly parallel Tamora’s request that “Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed / A mother’s tears in passion for her son!” (1.1.108-9). While the ruin of Lavinia should satisfy her need to humiliate Titus, Tamora loses sight of her initial purpose in avenging
Albarus’s death. In order to reconcile her humiliation, Tamora must increase the excess of revenge against Titus. Once the messenger returns with Titus’s hand and the heads of Martius and Quintus, Titus’s humiliation is complete and Tamora’s revenge reconciled. Tamora’s loss of
Albarus and subsequent humiliation transforms her into the “the devil’s dam”11 (4.2.77). In escalating vengeance against the Andronici, Tamora “outdoes”12 Titus’s original crime.
However, revenge brings only a partial healing. Her transformation into a villain is irreversible.
Giving birth to Aaron’s black child, Tamora creates a new child who can never replace
Albarus for it is the opposite of her eldest son in every way. He is born out of adultery, and the baby can only bring disgrace and ruin to Tamora’s family. The baby, though innocent of its mother’s crimes, is a product of Tamora’s devilish actions. Demanding the nurse murder it,
Tamora officially becomes the suffocating mother. Her attempted infanticide proves her loss of identity as a loving mother. The child is the “base fruit of her [Tamora’s] burning lust” (5.1.43).
Aaron loves the baby because it is the product of his unholy relationship with Tamora. Aaron’s love for his son stems from a love of villainy, which is personified by Tamora. The moor feels no remorse for his “heinous deeds” and wishes to do a thousand more crimes before he dies.
Phase 5: Autonomy
Aaron pleads for the life of his son to ensure that his reign of villainy will never end.
11 The mother of the devil 12 Willis p. 43 McGowan 13
He views his son as an extension of himself and therefore, the boy will continue his father’s abominable acts: “The vigour and the picture of my youth. / This before all the world do I prefer,
/ This maugre all the world will I keep safe” (4.2 110-112). Referring to his son as “villain,”
Aaron prophesizes that should the child live, he will be a devil (5.1.30). Corrupted by his mother’s sexuality, the baby is destined to be as cruel and pitiless as Tamora. The infant’s future symbolically reiterates the play’s preoccupation with “the myth of the Other” because the baby is part Goth, part Moor and part Roman (Smith 328). Assuming Lucius will keep his promise to raise the baby himself, Aaron’s desire to survive is fulfilled through his offspring (Green 326).
Tamora’s descent into villainy and transformation into the suffocating mother occurs when she literally consumes her sons, Chiron and Demetrius, who have been baked into a pie.
By consuming her sons, Tamora accomplishes the unimaginable: she returns the son back into the body from which he emerged.13 The “nightmare of femaleness” that weakens and contaminates masculinity is like a “thirsty” earth-mouth that can “gape open wide and eat him quick” (Richard III, 1.2.65)14. Chiron and Demetrius are denied independence entirely. Titus creates a coffin for Chiron and Demetrius in the form of a pastry, and Tamora eats “the flesh that she herself hath bred” (5.3.62). Tamora becomes the nightmare for masculinity at its most hyperbolic (Willbern 179). Titus forces the “unhallowed dam” to become “like to the earth” and
“swallow her own increase” (5.2.190-191). Overcome by her grief, Tamora is greedy in her revenge and must suffer the consequences of manipulating her power as a woman and mother.
Her attempted infanticide and mercilessness towards Lavinia goes against nature and she is punished with a dishonorable burial. Her body is eaten by wild animals.
13 See Jane Kingsley-Smith 14 See Janet Adelman p. 4 McGowan 14
Tamora’s death effectively silences her attempt to adopt a masculine identity. Aaron, as a man, is given a live burial so that he can proclaim his villainies until the very end. Tamora is once again dominated by male society as her voice is silenced (Green 326).
***
2. Hamlet
The five phases—identity, autonomy, grief, anger and reconciliation—present in Titus
Andronicus emerge in Hamlet in a new way. In Titus, Tamora’s loss of identity as a mother leads to her grief. In contrast, it is Hamlet’s grief over his mother’s abrupt marriage that leads to his loss of identity. In Hamlet, Gertrude and Hamlet’s relationship is marked by the loss of the father and abandonment by the mother through remarriage.
Phase 1: Grief
T.S. Eliot suggests that Hamlet’s relationship with his mother invokes an “intense feeling” which he cannot express: “Hamlet is dominated by an emotion which is inexpressible, because it is in excess of the facts as they appear.”15 Hamlet recognizes that the source of his pain—his father’s death—is connected to Gertrude. Due to her abrupt remarriage, Hamlet must grieve his father alone. Gertrude invites Hamlet to join her new life, saying, “cast thy nighted color off, / And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark” (1.2.68-69). Gertrude offers Hamlet her new life with Claudius as replacement for his present grief. Hamlet’s grief casts a shadow over Claudius’s coronation and wedding bliss. Unable to accept his role in the new Denmark,
Hamlet is immobilized by his feelings of abandonment by his mother. Eliot talks of “the guilt of the mother” as an intolerable motive. It results in “sickness of heart, revealing itself in
15 T.S. Eliot, “Hamlet and His Problems,” The Sacred Wood (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1928).
McGowan 15 pessimism” (125). Hamlet’s melancholy at the beginning of the play is due to his mother’s marriage and symbolic “forgetting” of his father.
In Hamlet, the characters’ memories are enlightening. Remembering Gertrude and his father, Hamlet recalls how “she would hang on him / As if increase of appetite had grown / By what it fed on.” (1.2.143-145). This memory is soured by Gertrude’s hasty remarriage: “Within a month, / Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears / Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, / She married” (1.2.153-56). Richard Levin points out signs of discord in Gertrude and King Hamlet’s relationship. King Hamlet is “absurdly overprotective”16 as Gertrude “hangs on him,” her appetite remains unsatisfied. The image Hamlet depicts of his parents lacks sexual components and serves to establish Gertrude’s insatiable sexual appetite (Levin 306). However, Hamlet interprets these signs as a deep mutual love between his father and Gertrude. Hamlet’s memory of his parents is idyllic and distorted by his grief.
Hamlet’s grief leads to confusion regarding Gertrude’s role in his life. Her remarriage separates her emotional bond with Hamlet, calling her identity as his mother into question.
Grieving the loss of both mother and father, Hamlet loses his identity as the son. Losing his identity, Hamlet cannot exert his autonomy as a man. Even before meeting the Ghost, Hamlet talks of “how weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!” (1.2.133).
Desiring that his “too too sullied flesh would melt,” Hamlet contemplates death in response to
Gertrude’s new life. The encounter with his father’s ghost only deepens Hamlet’s depression.
Demanding that the “seeming-virtuous queen” be left “to heaven / And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge / To prick and sting her,” the Ghost prevents Hamlet from acting on his instinctive suspicions of Gertrude’s involvement in his father’s death (1.5.46, 86-88). Hamlet is
16 Richard Levin, “Gertrude’s Elusive Libido and Shakespeare’s Unreliable Narrators,” SEL Studies in English Literature 1500‐1900, V. 48, N. 2, The Johns Hopkins UP, Spring 2008, pp 305‐326. McGowan 16 overwhelmed with misplaced anger such that “his disgust envelops and exceeds [Gertrude]”
(Eliot 125). Hamlet views his mother as an inadequate source of his disgust. Unable to directly confront the source of his anger, Hamlet struggles to separate himself from Gertrude’s “rank corruption” (3.4.148).
Discovering the truth behind his father’s death, Hamlet gains a new perspective on his mother’s sexual nature. The “seeming-virtuous queen” (1.5.46) loses her purity and virtue in
Hamlet’s eyes. The Ghost makes Gertrude’s uncontrolled sexuality apparent to Hamlet.
Gertrude’s lust leads her from the celestial bed to “prey on garbage” (1.5.57) in the “couch of luxury and damned incest” (1.5.83). Learning of his mother’s adultery, Hamlet questions the constancy of women. He considers Gertrude’s “frailty” a threat to his father’s memory. As
Gertrude fails to distinguish between Claudius and King Hamlet, Hamlet is unable to remember his father appropriately. Hamlet’s single promise to the Ghost is to “Remember” (1.5.90).
Gertrude fails to cherish her late husband’s memory, and Hamlet struggles to do so in her place. Gertrude treats Claudius as she treated King Hamlet, with the same hungry appetite for affection. The union of Claudius and Gertrude affects Hamlet’s understanding of past, present and future. Referred to as an “ imperial jointress” by Claudius, Gertrude as mother and wife links
Hamlet to his late father (1.2.9). Through childbearing and birth, Gertrude connects two generations (Haverkamp 174). Her marriage to Claudius joins Hamlet’s history to a new surrogate father figure. The incestuous union of Claudius and Gertrude complicates Hamlet’s mission for revenge. Claudius replaces King Hamlet in every way. Referring to Hamlet as his
“son” and Gertrude as his “sometime sister, now our queen,” Claudius interferes with Hamlet’s mourning process (Dubrow 152). King Hamlet becomes idealized as Hamlet transforms him into a god in his mind: “So excellent a king that was to this / Hyperion to a satyr” (1.2.139-140). McGowan 17
Thus, Hamlet cannot model himself off King Hamlet’s example as a man. The loss of his father’s memory results in a loss of identity.
Phase 2: Identity
Janet Adelman explains the son’s journey to manhood as “the process of choosing between two fathers.”17 Hamlet is forced to choose between the Hyperion and the satyr. Unable to identify with the idealized memory of his father, he struggles to distance himself from the satyr, Claudius. However, Hamlet’s role as avenger mirrors Claudius’s murder (Fineman 417).
As Claudius replaces King Hamlet’s role as father and husband, Hamlet replaces Claudius’s role as murderer. Gertrude’s presence negates the strategy of father-son relationships.
Gertrude’s inability to distinguish between her husband and his brother prevents Hamlet from establishing his identity. Holding onto the ideal of his father, Hamlet struggles to establish differentiation between King Hamlet and Claudius. The Ghost’s return mars Hamlet’s image of his father as pure and good. Even as he details Claudius’s act of murder, the Ghost admits his own crimes prevent him from resting in peace. Hamlet’s need to separate his father from
Claudius is thwarted by Gertrude:
G: Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
H: Mother, you have my father much offended. (3.4.8-9).
Hamlet’s inability to consistently separate his fathers leads him to associate himself with
Claudius. In his attempt to remember his father, Hamlet forgets himself and takes on the role of avenger. However, it is the deterioration of his relationship with Gertrude that gives him hesitation. Gertrude’s presence marks King Hamlet’s absence. Hamlet has lost his father and lost his protection from the oppressive nature of women.
17 Adelman p. 12 McGowan 18
Viewing his mother’s remarriage as incestuous and unholy, Hamlet is disgusted by
Gertrude’s indifference over the death of King Hamlet: “fie on’t, ah fie, ‘tis an unweeded garden
/ that grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature / possess it merely” (1.2.135-136).
Comparing his mother to an “unweeded garden,” Hamlet sees his mother as an unpredictable creature in need of regular attention (Adelman 17). When Hamlet’s father was alive, Gertrude was a delicate flower in need of protection. Now that she has married Claudius, Gertrude’s sexuality is rampant and tainted. Hamlet’s attempt to separate his mother from her sexuality results in his rejection of Gertrude as his mother.
Hamlet cannot be independent without establishing his masculine identity, and Gertrude obfuscates that goal. The ambiguity of Gertrude’s role in his life leads Hamlet to reject all women. Hamlet’s distrust of Gertrude affects his interactions with Ophelia. Ophelia fuses with
Gertrude to represent female sexuality at its worst. Like Gertrude, Ophelia has the potential to be both unfaithful and become a “breeder of sinners” or a mother. Hamlet’s desire to send Ophelia to a nunnery stems from his need to distance himself from women. Saying “it were better my mother had not borne me,” Hamlet wishes to escape Gertrude’s control as his mother (3.1.124).
Phase 3: Autonomy
Without a father figure, Hamlet struggles to distinguish masculinity from femininity.
Following Freud’s triangulating theory of gender generation, Hamlet’s first self is interconnected with Gertrude and femininity. Therefore, his masculinity is contingent on separating from his mother (Fineman 450). Femininity becomes tainted by the actions of Gertrude. Viewing man’s one great defect as being bonded with women through birth, Hamlet associates conception with death and corruption.
McGowan 19
In speaking with Polonius, Hamlet warns of the dangers of male and female intercourse:
H: If the sun breed maggots, in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion—Have you a daughter?
P: I have, my lord
H: Let her not walk I’ th’ sun. Conception is a blessing, but as your daughter may conceive—friend, look to’t. (2.2.181-186)
Men’s mortality begins within the womb of the mother. The underlying anxiety of Hamlet is the fantasy of spoiling from within the womb (Adelman 23). The contamination of the mother is passed on to the son.
Presented as the tainted and possessed garden, Gertrude can only be purified by separation from her poisonous sexuality. Gertrude’s contamination grows from the implication of her involvement in King Hamlet’s death. Shakespeare hints at Gertrude’s crimes as Hamlet accuses his mother: “A bloody deed. Almost as bad, good Mother, / As kill a king and marry with his brother” (3.4). Gertrude accedes to suffering from remnants of a guilty conscience:
“Thou turn’st my eyes into my very soul, / And there I see such black and grained spots” (3.4.89-
90). In the Murder of Gonzago, a great deal of emphasis is placed on the Player Queen’s role in the murder of her husband. Hamlet wishes to investigate Gertrude’s guilt rather than the conscience of Claudius. The Player Queen estimates remarriage to a form of second murder:
“None wed the second but who killed the first” and “A second time I kill my husband dead, /
When second husband kisses me in bed” (3.2.176, 180-181). Yet, Gertrude’s perception of the
Player Queen is that “the lady doth protest too much” (3.2.226). Hamlet’s exclamation, “If she should break it now!,” confirms his desire to catch her conscience.
The Murder of Gonzago intersects all the traumatic experiences that plague Hamlet. He can address the guilt of Claudius and Gertrude as well as question the virtues of Ophelia. McGowan 20
Surrounded by themes of murder and death, Hamlet continues to direct sexual innuendos towards
Ophelia: “It would cost you a groaning to take off mine edge” (3.2.245). Hamlet’s remarks to
Ophelia are ultimately intended for Gertrude. In returning his gifts and denying his affections,
Ophelia commits Gertrude’s crime of forgetting. Seeing in Ophelia the same faults as Gertrude,
Hamlet questions her virtuousness in the same way he desires to confront his mother.
Hamlet connects death with sexuality because within Gertrude, both exist. Death and sexuality become interchangeable as both lead back to the same individual: the mother. Hamlet acknowledges this connection between sexuality and death remarking that “the funeral bak’d meats / Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables” (1.2.180-81). This mutual interchange of sexuality and death relates to the plays preoccupation with unity.
The union of sexuality and death expands on the destruction of the male by the female. In
Act 4, Hamlet combines Claudius and Hamlet in their mutual guilt, calling Claudius his mother:
“My mother. Father and mother is man and wife, man wife is one flesh; so my mother” (4.3.50-
51). The “rank mixture” emerges from the confusion of mother-aunts and father-uncles becoming one flesh (3.2.148). Hamlet’s problems with Gertrude are at the heart of his inaction.
Hamlet recognizes he has two tasks: avenge his father and save his mother.
Phase 4: Reconciliation
Hamlet feels the need to save his mother and remake her. Confronting Gertrude with the differences between his father and Claudius, Hamlet attempts to return his mother’s memory. In as much as Hamlet wishes Gertrude to end her relationship with Claudius, he is also obsessed with their sexual relationship. He creates a detailed situation of how not to act with the “bloated” king. Hamlet imagines Claudius tempting her again to bed, “pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse, / And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses (…) Make you to ravel all this matter McGowan 21 out” (3.4.183-186). Even as he demands his mother “go not to my uncle’s bed,” Hamlet cannot prevent himself from picturing her incestuous deeds.
The confrontation in her chambers is all for Hamlet’s benefit. It allows Hamlet the reconciliation with his mother he desperately desires. While Gertrude agrees to assist her son and bless his mission, it is unknown to what extent she has truly transformed (Adelman 34). Yet,
Hamlet has his image of his mother restored. It is this recovery of the maternal body that paves the way for Hamlet to fulfill his destiny. Hamlet replaces his feelings of abandonment with a mother’s love. In rekindling the lost relationship with Gertrude, Hamlet is able to move forward with his mission. While the extent of Gertrude’s guilt is left unknown, it is irrelevant. It is more pertinent that Hamlet believes he has saved his mother and she has joined him in avenging his father.
Phase 5: Anger
Gertrude’s final actions in the play express her love for Hamlet. Drinking the poison,
Gertrude fulfills the wishes of the Ghost; her fate is left to heaven. Hamlet’s reconciliation with
Gertrude allows him to finally take action for “the king, the king’s to blame” (5.2.303). Yet, his action is more a reaction of anger than a premeditated act. John Kerrigan describes Hamlet’s attack on Claudius as “spontaneous retaliation not long-delayed retribution.”18 Claudius dies for the murder of Gertrude and Hamlet, not the Ghost. In fact, the Ghost is not mentioned at all in the final act (Kerrigan 121). The single element missing for Hamlet to enact revenge is his anger.
While Hamlet achieves vengeance for the Ghost, it is at a terrible cost. In killing Claudius,
Hamlet kills a father figure but gains no identity as a man. As he nears death, Hamlet is drawn back to the mother, whose womb interconnects life and death. Hamlet’s only hope to escape his
18 John Kerrigan, “Hieronimo, Hamlet and Remembrance,” Critical Essays on Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Ed. David Scott Kastan, (NY: G.K.Hall, 1995). McGowan 22 mother is to live on through Horatio. Asking Hortatio to “draw thy breath in pain, / To tell my story,” (5.2.331-32) Hamlet mimics the now-forgotten Ghost begging, “Remember me.”
***
3. Coriolanus
Phase 1: Identity
The mother and son relationship in Coriolanus differs from the relationships previously discussed in that Volumnia is completely dedicated to her role as mother. However, Volumnia defines motherhood not with tenderness and love but as a means to an end. As Coriolanus’s mother, Volumnia prides herself in raising a Roman soldier rather than a son. In theatrical performances of Coriolanus, Volumnia is portrayed as a “blood-lusting, teeth-baring she- wolf.”19 Rejecting maternal feeling, Volumnia fails to nourish Coriolanus with tenderness and love. Deprived of a mother’s love, Coriolanus trains himself to survive on his anger and pride
(Luckyj 331).
While Tamora and Gertrude allow their sexual needs to interfere with their motherly duties, Volumnia focuses completely on Coriolanus. Volumnia views her son’s fame as a sexual surrogate (Berry 302). Volumnia shares her identity with her son. Her greatest achievement is being the mother of a war hero. Comparing their relationship of mother and son to that of a husband and wife, Volumnia claims that “if my son were my husband, I should freelier / Rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour than in the / Embracements of his bed where he would show most love” (1.3.2-4). Voluminia views Coriolanus’s success in battle as her own success.
Similar to Tamora, Volumnia is a woman transforming herself into a man. As Volumnia refuses to sever her tight bond with Coriolanus, she denies her own womanliness. Failing in her
19 Michael Billington, Guardian, 23 October 1973, review of Royal Shakespeare Company Coriolanus, directed by Trevor Nunn, Aldwych, 22 October 1973. McGowan 23 role as a mother, Volumnia cannot create a healthy son, and Coriolanus becomes a beast, insatiable in his need for blood and domination. Measuring her worth based upon Coriolanus’s success in battle, Volumnia rejects the virtues of women and adopts masculinity. Volumnia finds pleasure in discussing wounds, blood and death because they represent “seals of honor that make her son a man, and her a man, in effect, through him.”20 Coriolanus, her son, has ceased to exist for her and becomes the embodiment of her own masculinity.
In contrast, Virgilia emerges as the feminine ideal. As Coriolanus’s wife and Volumnia’s daughter-in-law, Virgilia defines herself by opposing Volumnia’s manliness. As the opposite of
Coriolanus, Virgilia voices her disgust for wounds, blood and death. Volumnia relishes in images of Coriolanus fighting for Rome: “His bloody brow / With his mailed hand then wiping, forth he goes, / Like to a harvestman” (1.3.29-32). Meanwhile, Virgilia finds no pleasure in the prospect of her husband’s death: “His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood!” (1.3.33). Whereas Volumnia views war as an opportunity to increase her masculinity, Virgilia is distraught with fear for
Coriolanus’s safety. Volumnia perceives Virgilia’s femininity as weak and naïve, claiming that
“[Blood] more becomes a man than gilt his trophy” (1.3.34).
Volumnia compares the tender image of Hector suckling at Hecuba’s breast to the grotesque image of Hector’s forehead spitting blood: “The breasts of Hecuba, / When she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier / Than Hector’s forehead when it spit forth blood” (1.3.35-37).
This comparison acts as an analogy for her relationship with Coriolanus. Coriolanus has been taught to reject vulnerability, which is an inherently feminine trait. Volumnia stresses that the greatest defense against the weakness of vulnerability is aggression. Like Hector, Coriolanus has made the leap from suckling at his mother’s breast to the life of a man and soldier. However, he
20 Kahn p. 157 McGowan 24 has not been given independence from his mother. Volumnia inserts herself in all aspects of her son’s adult life, preventing Coriolanus from proving himself as self-sufficient.
Phase 2: Autonomy
Coriolanus is known for his strength in battle. He cuts down enemies “like a harvest man that’s task’d to mow / Or all or loss his hire” (1.3.36-37); “a thing of blood,” he strikes Corioles like a planet, and runs “reeking over the lives of men” (2.2.105-122); he leads soldiers “like a thing / Made by some other deity than nature” (4.6.91-93). While he is physically powerful with superhuman courage, Coriolanus is less a god and more a boy. His identity as a warrior has been created by Volumnia’s hand. Volumnia sent her son “to a cruel war” because she considered
“how honour would become such a person” and “was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame” (1.3.8-11). Volumnia perceives Coriolanus as the means to her own ends.
As her offspring, Coriolanus is a manifestation of Volumnia on the battlefield. His honors are her honors (Berry 315).
Volumnia controls Coriolanus by making her affection conditional on his fulfillment of her hopes. The manlier Coriolanus acts, the more he is “bound to his mother.”21 Volumnia binds herself to Coriolanus because she constantly leaves him wanting emotionally. Incapable of being the tender, loving mother, Volumnia fails to nourish Coriolanus with human kindness. Due to his maternal deprivation, Coriolanus can not wean himself from what he has never received.
Adelman narrows Coriolanus’s problems down to a lack of nourishment, particularly feeding from Volumnia. At the center of Coriolanus is a mother who has not fed her child sufficiently
(Adelman 147). Claiming that “anger’s my meat: I sup upon myself / And so shall starve with feeding,” (4.2.52-53) Volumnia establishes a certain standard for Coriolanus. Instead of offering
21 Kahn p. 158‐159. McGowan 25 him the sweet milk of her breast, Volumnia insists Coriolanus feed off his anger and view violence as a source of nourishment. Unlike most mothers, Volumnia lacks the desire to protect her son and keep him close to her. Therefore, she sends Coriolanus to a cruel war in order to teach him self-sufficiency. Coriolanus grows to view food as poisonous, and thus, he views the
Plebians with disdain. Demanding food and saying “they were an-hungry, / That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, / That meat was made for mouths,” (1.1.189-90) the Plebians show a weakness for feeding that Coriolanus has been conditioned to reject. Forced to feed himself on anger, Coriolanus refuses to acknowledge any neediness or dependency: his identity depends on viewing himself as self-sufficient.22
The need to please the Plebians and receive praise for his success in battle threatens his view of himself as independent. Recognizing the threat to his identity, Coriolanus despises the customs that subject him to the will of the common people. For Coriolanus, it is better to “be their servant in my way / Than sway with them in theirs” (2.1.178-179). Coriolanus finds the custom of entreating the people to “think upon” him fondly as payment for fighting for Rome demoralizing. The very thought of begging for the people’s voices repulses Coriolanus.
Demanding the praise of the people would imply that Coriolanus’s ultimate objective is to please others, which would directly contradict his belief that he is self-sufficient: “To brag unto them,
‘Thus I did, and thus’ / Show them th’unaching scars, which I should hide, / As if I had received them for the hire / Of their breath only!” (2.2.142-44). Despite his displeasure, Coriolanus must don the gown of humility and ask the people for their voices to elect him consul. It is at this point that Coriolanus begins to grieve the loss of his identity as independent. Coriolanus realizes that
22 Adelman p. 147‐150. McGowan 26 anger and violence are not satisfying. However, these are the only forms of nourishment he knows and understands.
In order to please the people, Coriolanus must devote himself to “service of the state.”
However, Coriolanus is not interested serving all of Rome. He serves “to please his mother, and to be partly proud, which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue” (1.1.38-39). Preoccupied with the interests of his own class, Coriolanus treats the entire ceremony of humility as a charade.
Coriolanus’s identity as a warrior betrays him. Coriolanus views the Plebians as what he refuses to become and therefore, distinguishes his identity as their complete opposite.23 For in the political climate of compromise and accommodation, Coriolanus is out of place (Kahn 163).
Phase 3: Anger
Volumnia exerts her power over Coriolanus to convince him to mask his harsh pride for the people in order to gain the consulship and “inherit the buildings of her fancy” (2.1.200). The woman who bred him to reject all dependency urges him to humble himself and be false to his nature. Coriolanus is forced to acknowledge the reality that his true self is not the self he has played all his life. Confronted with the realization that he is controlled by the approval of his mother, Coriolanus begins to mourn the loss of his false sense of independence.
Volumnia nourished him with cruelty and now demands Coriolanus act hypocritical and complacent. Claiming his accomplishments as her own, Volumnia reminds him that her “praises made thee first a soldier” and offers her praise again should he “perform a part / Thou hast not done before” (3.2.106-10). Viewing this request as an emasculation, Coriolanus defies her for the first time saying “I will not do’t, / Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth / And by my body’s action teach my mind / A most inherent baseness” (3.2.104). Yet, as Volumnia withdraws her
23 Adelman 153 McGowan 27 approval and proudly refuses to beg Coriolanus, the son collapses in his brief rebellion against the mother. Coriolanus falters in face of the possibility of losing Volumnia’s approval: “Pray be content. / Mother, I am going to the market-place. / Chide me no more” (3.2.132-34). Again,
Coriolanus becomes the boy-man controlled by his desire for Volumnia’s affection.
When the people rescind their voices and call him traitor, Coriolanus lashes out in repressed anger at Rome. The Plebians’ actions are similar to Volumnia’s in the previous scene.
She enticed Coriolanus with her approval then refused it. Likewise, the Plebians reward him the consulship then rebuke and banish him (Kahn 166).
Phase 4: Grief
Coriolanus’s banishment from Rome transforms Volumnia. No longer is she the powerful
“she-wolf.” Volumnia becomes the sad woman weeping over her son’s exile. Coriolanus tells his mother to “leave your tears” and remember her “ancient courage” (4.1.1-3). Reminding
Volumnia of her masculinity, Coriolanus compares her strength to that of Hercules: “If you had been the wife of Hercules, / Six of his labours you’d have done and saved / Your husband so much sweat” (4.1.17-19). The mother who viewed her son’s hazards as “solace” (5.1.128) is transformed into the concerned mother fearing for her son’s safety: “My first son, / Whither wilt thou go?” (4.1.33-37). Christina Luckyj argues that Volumnia’s obsession with the “wounds” of war is a defense against life’s realities. Now, faced with these realities, Volumnia softens.
Volumnia’s grief morphs into anger at the sight of the tribunes, Sicinius and Brutus.
Sicinius marks the woman’s rage asking, “Are you mankind?” (4.2.18). Implying that Volumnia is furiously angry, Sicinius inadvertently points out the woman’s masculinity, which is her source of pride. Volumnia defends herself saying, “Was not a man my father?” (4.2.20). As woman is born of man, she has a natural inclination towards using anger and aggression to McGowan 28 express her loss. For the first time, Volumnia interprets “mankind” as “humankind.” Volumnia begins to reconcile the two warring aspects of her nature—maternal feeling and masculine self- assertion (Luckyj 334).
As his mother grieves his loss, Coriolanus channels his rage towards Rome. However, his anger is misplaced, as it is a reaction to his mother’s control. Unable to take his anger out on
Volumnia, Coriolanus victimizes the symbolic mother, Rome. Similar to his mother’s decision to send him to a cruel war, Coriolanus sees Rome as another mother casting him out. In the destruction of Rome, Coriolanus foresees the possibility of standing “as if a man were author of himself / And knew no other kin” (5.3.34-37). It would be the cruelest and most extreme denial of his bonds with Volumnia and with his home. Coriolanus would become the merciless man
Volumnia raised him to become. It is easy for Coriolanus to imagine destroying Rome so long as he is separate from his mother (Adelman 160).
Phase 5: Reconciliation
Coriolanus’s reunion with Volumnia forces him to face reality. By marching on Rome,
Coriolanus would also be marching on Volumnia, Virglia, and his only son: “Thou shalt no sooner / March to assult thy country than to tread / (…) on thy mother’s womb” (5.3.122-25).
Seeing Volumnia holding his son’s hand, Coriolanus is faced with his own childhood. Giving into the pleas of his mother, Coriolanus becomes a weak, dependent, feminized creature similar to Virgilia. The tenderness Volumnia sought to eradicate from her son becomes Rome’s only hope for salvation.
For the first time, Coriolanus receives the tenderness his mother withheld from him. In appealing for the salvation of Rome, Volumnia appeals for reconciliation of her relationship with
Coriolanus. Raised to be the merciless Roman soldier, Coriolanus hungers for affection. Begging McGowan 29 for her son’s humanity, Volumnia offers a mother and son relationship based on tenderness.
Coriolanus is overjoyed at reconciling with his mother. Volumnia “most dangerously” prevails with her son and creates a human man.
However, the cost of reconciliation is Coriolanus’s death. Making peace with Volumnia,
Coriolanus transforms into a boy, a helpless creature of weakness and tears. Coriolanus begins and ends his tragic career as a “boy” lacking an authentic manly self. Coriolanus associates masculinity with isolation: “Alone I did it” (5.6.111-16). The brief reconnection with his mother brings Coriolanus back to the boy holding his mother’s hand (Kahn 172).
After Coriolanus’s death, Volumnia is hailed the “patroness, the life of Rome” (5.5.1).
Volumnia achieves her position of power in the aftermath of her son’s death. However, her silence following her reconciliation with Coriolanus highlights her awareness of her actions and their consequences. Until facing Coriolanus in Act 5, Volumnia lacked any “touch of nature”
(Luckyj 329). Volumnia has transformed throughout Coriolanus from a woman denying her maternal instincts to a weeping mother silently grieving.
McGowan 30
Conclusion
Shakespeare’s men discover their sexual identity by contrasting their masculinity with the femininity of their mothers. However, as husbands, men must reunite with their wives to fulfill their roles in society. Ironically, men’s power over women also makes them vulnerable to women (Kahn 17). Stemming from a belief in the “frailty” of women, husbands and sons seek to protect and control the mother and her sexuality. In Shakespeare’s tragedies, the sexual nature of mothers poses a threat to husbands and offspring. Mothers wield considerable power in their position as creators of life. Considered to be property of their husband, women held limited power in society. However, women’s essential role as child-bearers gives them control over the future of the family. Creating a male heir provides the mother with security in her role in the family. Influence over the son provides the mother with considerable power. Exerting influence over their sons, mothers in Shakespeare’s plays often lead to the demise of their children and in turn, themselves.
The five phases discussed all stem from the influence of the mother over the son. Each of the mothers discussed utilizes the power of affection to control the son. Tamora dangles the promise of love and approval in order to motivate Chiron and Demetrius. Hamlet can take no action in the play until Gertrude pledges allegiance to his cause. Coriolanus sacrifices his life out of love and devotion to Volumnia. However, the three mothers discussed lack the feminine qualities necessary to nurture healthy sons: tenderness, self-sacrifice and unconditional love.
These mothers are self-serving and view their sons as objects.
In Titus Andronicus, Tamora’s grief over Albarus’s death leads us to believe she loved her son. However, Albarus’s death results in her loss of identity and transformation into a monstrous villain. Angered by the loss of her identity, Tamora becomes obsessed with the excess McGowan 31 of revenge. Tamora sacrifices her remaining sons’ humanity in order to reconcile the humiliation done to the family. She grows to view her children as expendable as shown in her demand that
Aaron’s baby be murdered. Even her motives for revenge are narcissistic. Tamora wants to humiliate Titus as she felt humiliated. In successfully “outdoing” Titus’s original crime, Tamora reconciles her grief over Albarus’s death. However, the consequences of her transformation into the “devil’s dam” cannot be reversed.
Hamlet’s grief over his father’s death is heightened by Gertrude’s hasty remarriage.
Failing to differentiate between King Hamlet and Claudius, Gertrude prevents Hamlet from discovering his identity. Hamlet is left without a father figure to model his masculinity and exert his autonomy. Struggling against the power of the mother, Hamlet cannot move forward with his task without Gertrude’s approval. It is the death of Gertrude that finally stirs enough anger in
Hamlet to kill Claudius.
Viewing her son’s success in battle as her own success, Volumnia shares her identity with Coriolanus. Selfishly, Volumnia withholds affection from her son in order to control his actions. Coriolanus is unable to exert his independence as he lives for the approval of his mother.
Viewing her son as a pawn, Volumnia uses Coriolanus to further her ambitions. She assists in his death by using a mother’s tears to stop his war on Rome. Volumnia reconciles with Coriolanus in a final attempt to save the city she desires to control. However, her silence marks her awareness at the consequences of her transformation into a man.
Shakespeare creates masculine mothers who consume their sons with their selfish needs and desires. The themes of identity, grief, autonomy, anger and reconciliation mark a journey these mother and son relationships endure before the characters meet their tragic ends.
McGowan 32
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