Why Politicians are Liars, and other things one learns from one's dissertation

It's an election year. The time when, once every four years, we embark upon the farce of pretending that we as a nation are gullible enough to believe all the drivel that comes out of the mouths of the chosen candidates. And of the press, their propagandists, and "unbiased third-party commercials." Right.

It's the time when all self-respecting citizens want to bang their heads repeatedly against the wall at the oblivious stupidity of their fellow Americans.

But what, you may ask, does this have to do with my dissertation on Shakespeare. Well, as Stephen Colbert remarked on a recent edition of The Colbert Report, John McCain is Macbeth. He also likened Barack Obama to Hamlet, but that's not wholly accurate. Obama seems to know who and what he is and doesn't seem to be particularly set on murdering anyone. Maybe Prince Escalus from Romeo and Juliet, perhaps Vincentio from Measure for Measure, but he's not really a tragic hero. But Colbert aside (though the episode was brilliant and featured Shakespearean scholar Stephen Greenblatt), the lessons we learn from Shakespeare, and Macbeth in particular, are highly relevant.

But I'm not thinking of Macbeth himself. Rather, I'm thinking of the other kings in his play (and hoping fervently that we don't have to go through a Macbeth). Duncan - the well-liked and well-intentioned "saint" who managed nothing more than to instigate a variety of rebellions, an invasion, and his own murder. Nice guy, though. And, finally, the subject of my thoughts: Malcolm.

Malcolm is Duncan's heir, his eldest son, and an "innocent." He claims to never have known the touch of a woman, to not drink, and to be free from greed and ambition. But he wants the throne. Oh, and he also claims (in the same scene) to be lecherous, a drunkard, a profligate spender and gambler, ambitious, vengeful, violent, and murderous. And he claims all this within about a hundred lines - no wonder poor Macduff is confused and depressed.

And here we are, facing a decision of ruler in which case we have no idea which story to believe about whom. Now, there are some pretty obvious stupidities out there - such as the infamous "Obama is an Arab" routine (for the record, he isn't) - but there are also quite a few things that are stretches of the truth or just plain fabrications that aren't obviously false. Like Malcolm's claims. He's the man who admits that he is a liar. Do you believe him because he's obviously telling the truth (only a liar can say he is a liar), or do you not believe him because he is, as he says, a liar.

The solution in Shakespeare's play is dissatisfying - Malcolm has Macduff kill Macbeth, and takes the throne. Someone else does his dirty work, and he inherits his father's throne on the functional basis of a series of lies. We don't see Malcolm's rule in Shakespeare's play. We don't know which Malcolm appears once the crown is placed upon his head. And we find ourselves faced with Macduff's decision: which set of lies do we choose? Not which do we believe, because - if we are smart - we can see that none of it is the truth, but which do we choose as the public face of our king? Do we choose the liar who speaks of restoration and order, or do we choose the liar who has experience with rule and a sword?

We are Macduff, and I do not envy him his choice.

O nation miserable!
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accus'd,
And does blaspheme his breed?
... Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Hath banish'd me from Scotland. - O my breast,
Thy hope ends here! (4.3.103-108, 111-114)

The Show of Kings

There is a good deal of critical consternation surrounding the "show of kings" in Shakespeare's Macbeth. Just how many people are on stage? What does the "glass" do? Is Banquo one of the eight, or is he a ninth body in the procession? How like to James I are the kings meant to appear?

The "show" itself is not described in the text beyond Macbeth's broken speech:
MACBETH Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls: – and thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first: –
A third is like the former: – filthy hags!
Why do you show me this? – A fourth? – Start, eyes!
What! will the line stretch out to th’crack of doom?
Another yet? – A seventh? – I’ll see no more: –
And yet the eight appears, who bears a glass,
Which shows me many more; and some I see,
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry.
Horrible sight! – Now, I see, ’tis true;
For the blood-bolter’d Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. (4.1.112-124)

There are dozens - if not hundreds - of readings of this "show" in academia. Suggestions of smoke and mirrors - literally - and even the argument that the mirror (the "glass") was used specifically to reflect James I's image back to him from where he sat in the audience. Another reading of the "glass" is of a theatrical trick; one mirror sat on stage, and another in the wings, creating the effect of an infinite line of identical kings. The most simple suggestion (and the one that seems most plausible for the outdoor theaters, at least) is that the eighth king carries a mirror that reflects back his seven companions, raising the number of kings to fifteen, which seems to be more than enough for Shakespeare's purposes. While the technician in me would love to use the mirror-trick to infinitely replicate the kings (and this was perhaps possible for an indoor court-room stage), it seems unlikely to have been done in the public playhouses.

In the passage, I read Macbeth, the witches, eight kings, and Banquo's bloody ghost. It seems clear to me that Banquo is not one of the kings, as he isn't regally dressed (he is "blood-bolter'd") and would thus stick out of the line. That's thirteen people on stage, which is also a very nice (read, "evil") number for the scene.

What I find most interesting about this scene - indeed, about the whole play - is its tendency to mingle English and Scottish politics. Macbeth, like James, is king of Scotland. Macbeth, like Elizabeth, is childless. Macbeth, like James, came to the Scottish throne following the violent death of the previous monarch (Elizabeth had Mary Queen of Scots executed). Macbeth, like Elizabeth, kills another monarch. Tricksy, William Shakespeare. Very tricksy.

So what are we to make of the "show"? Since James' descent from Banquo is fiction (concocted by Boece to placate James IV of Scotland), what DO we make of it? And what did Shakespeare make of it? Did he know Banquo was a fiction? If so, is the "show" meant to mock James' claim of descent, or is it meant to support it in theory, if not in substance? Is it Shakespeare's tip of the hat to James for being a clever dramatist in his own right, using the fiction of Banquo to support his claim to the throne as though it were truth?

I can't help but think that Shakespeare was a little impressed by James' use of the fiction, and his own adoption of it was part-tribute, part-mockery. After all, a fiction is only useful insofar as others accept the fiction as truth. Elizabeth, late in life, became almost comical as she insisted upon her "eternal youth and beauty," but it was a fiction she managed to perpetuate despite the obviousness of its falsity. But Elizabeth was aware of its failure; her insistence upon the perpetuation of the myth exploited the scission between the physical body of the monarch and the eternal aspect of sovereignty. The Queen was eternally young and beautiful, even if Elizabeth Tudor was not. James, however, did not as clearly separate the two elements of his role as king, and perhaps Shakespeare's "show" is meant to reveal his awareness of the fallibility of the fiction - and his acknowledgment that when that fiction is exposed, the structure built upon it must crumble.