Honesty to Speak Speech and Silence in Othello - Literature Essay Samples

Speech in Shakespeares Othello possesses a power beyond that of deeds. It is Othellos fantastical storytelling that won him Desdemona at the start, Iagos poisonous suggestion that leads the general to murder his own wife, Emilias testimony that traps the villain in the end. Not all of this speech is true, and we will never know for sure whether Othellos handkerchief is magic or why Iago created his plot; but words, regardless of their truth, convince the characters even more than physical evidence does. When characters control their speech, either by remaining silent or by bursting out, they exert the strongest power they can have over the plays world.Iago, a skilled manipulator, is in complete control of his voice. He finagles Roderigos purse by persuading the young man that he will send the money to Desdemona, and then works on harder prey. Upon seeing Cassio finish talking to Desdemona, Iago mutters, I like not that a comment he pretends to be private but wants Othello to hea r. Othello asks Iago what he said, and Iago replies, Nothing, my lord; or ifI know not what. After insinuating Cassios guilt, Iago gets Othello to mention that Cassio repeatedly visited Desdemona before her marriage. Iago exclaims, Indeed! and then falls silent, despite Othellos prodding for an explanation. These two lines rouse Othellos suspicions because they appear involuntary, and are therefore more likely to be indications of Iagos true thoughts. The words themselves, however, are innocent. That Iago dislikes whatever Cassio was doing, perhaps kissing Desdemonas hand or even just standing next to her, is probably true; Iago hates everybody in the play, particularly Cassio. His other comments are meaningless, but they are pauses that invite Othello to infer the darker motivations behind; Iagos silence, not his speech, frames Desdemona.Iago excuses his silence by saying that oft my jealousy/Shapes faults that are not, and he is honest. He discourses about Cassios military inexperience and his tawdry affairs, warns Othello of Desdemonas unnatural behavior and deceptive practices. And yet he avoids directly accusing Cassio, and never claims that Desdemona is having an affair. Instead of lying, Iago uses silence to make Othello fill in the gaps. If Iago had laid the whole accusation bare, Othello would probably be incredulous and ask Desdemona to confirm the truth, just as Emilia, when Othello tells her about Iagos deceptions, asks her husband, Did you ever say that she was false? Though he admits to doing so, he never did, replacing that claim with circumstantial evidence. For example, he says Cassio had an erotic dream about Desdemona, and the audience is no more justified to discount that claim than Othello is to believe it. Cassios tongue has loosened against his will before, revealing a less noble officer than he first appears. He has previously made mildly insulting remarks about his social inferiors, telling Desdemona, [Iago] speaks home, madam, you may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar, and excuses his own breeding for kissing Emilia. (Since Cassio knew this courtesy would offend Iago, his reasons for taking it are somewhat suspect.) After Iago has gotten him drunk, Cassio shows the true extent of his sense of superiority. He shouts, The lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient, and attacks Roderigo for his presumption, crying a knave teach me my duty? Iago partially proves that Cassio is the rash and very sudden in choler man he claimed, undeserving of the lieutenancy, and partially makes him so, much as he handles Othello. Cassios courtly, hyperbolic praise for Desdemona, a maid/That paragons description and wild fame, may likewise have transformed during sleep into the baser, cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor! Cassio, obsessed with safeguarding his reputation, can afford to admit his lapses only to Iago, whom he trusts, who has already seen Cassios drunkenness, whose opinion he car es little for, and who thinks far worse of the lieutenant than any confession could account. If Cassio has any faults other than drinking, fighting, and whoring, he takes great pains to hide them. He also has some virtue, and can hardly bear to acknowledge his drunkenness. For both these reasons, when Othello calls upon him to account for his brawling, Cassio responds, I pray you pardon me, I cannot speak. Montano, the other combatant, is too wounded to explain what happened, and Roderigo has slipped away. By orchestrating the silence of his comrades, Iago remains the only one able to tell Othello what happened, and by his favorite tactic of pretended reticence, convinces the general that Cassio was more at fault than he actually was. Othello thinks that Iago is reluctant to condemn Cassio more than he does because of loyalty to his worthy friend. Because Iago will not say that Cassio is bad, Othello thinks he is worse; because his trusted ensign keeps silent, the general thi nks the truth too horrible to reveal. But when Iago keeps his mouth shut, it is to avoid divulging good. He hates to acknowledge it just as much as Othello shudders to contemplate his wifes infidelity. Othello presumes, because he cannot stomach ill deeds, that no-one can. When Iago says that Cassio lay, With her, on her, what you will, Othello falls into a epileptic fit. He thinks it is as painful for the hesitant Iago to say such things as it is for himself to hear them. The Moor cannot even tell Desdemona her supposed crime; he shouldto cinders burn up modesty/Did I but speak thy deeds.Heaven stops the nose at it. With Iago, his mouth is freer to shout, Damn her, lewd minx: O damn her, damn her! but Othello does not notice this effect of Iagos presence. At first, it is joy that Othello cannot name, he cannot speak enough of this content, it stops me here, but once Iago has finished his work, the voluble Othello has no content to speak of. Whenever the general opens his mouth to praise Desdemona, Iago warns, Nay, you must forget all that, and by Act III, Othellos wonderful tales of deserts vast and antres idle have become fantastical lies about the handkerchiefs magic powers, to frighten Desdemona.When speaking about the handkerchief, Othello asks Desdemona where it is, and she will not answer at first. His constant questioning, ist lost? Ist gone? Speak, ist out of the way? implies that Desdemona here hesitates. Heaven bless us! is her final unfortunate response, as though she were praying to be pardoned for adultery. Her mind refuses to compass Othellos meaning, and so she thinks nothing of her words and lies about the handkerchief, as though this would protect her from its powers. Her pauses also cause Othello to trust her less both in the future and the present, as her initial dithering makes the lie that much more transparent.Soon after, she makes the same mistake for similar reasons. Othello never tells Desdemona what she has allegedly done until too late. He calls her a whore and Emilia a bawd, but prostitution is not Desdemonas supposed crime. He orders her to swear she is honest and she will not, possibly because of confusion that he meant honest about the handkerchief, possibly out of sheer overwhelmedness or modesty but probably because she cannot believe Othello does not love her; she blinds herself to Othellos meaning and asks whether he is mad because of Brabantio, which he is obviously not. [Othellos] unkindness maynever taint my love, says Desdemona, as though her husband simply were not feeling himself. (Unkindness in Shakespeares usage often hovered between unnaturalness and the modern sense) She then decides, despite every sign to the contrary, that politics is the real reason for Othellos behavior. And when she knows herself lost beyond all hope to her husbands love, she refuses to say so, but only, answers have I none.She does manage to swear that she is neither a strumpet nor whore, unfortuna te word choices in the context of being treated like a public commoner and not an adulteress, as the words could mean either. Her earnest prayer of, heaven forgive us! just as before moves Othello from the brink of believing her back to renewed suspicions. Othello, already believing Desdemona lost, told her with dubious theology to be double-damned, but the first item she would be damned for (dishonesty) is the same as the second. He wanted Desdemona to convince him that she really was honest, and her avoidance of Othellos command, though she somewhat makes up for the deficiency a few lines later and even swears her faithfulness just after Othello has left the room, damns her just as Iagos silence does.I cannot say whore, she confides to Iago, and oddly enough, shares that quality with him. (Iago does speak it in Othellos presence, but never, even during soliloquy, in reference to Desdemona.) Othello trusts Iago because the ensign will not mention foulness, and suspects Desdem ona for that same quality. Iagos poison has made what is to him as luscious as locustsas acerb as coloquintida; Othello fluctuates between believing Iago and not daring to, but by the time of their marriage is prepared not only to hear but to put any slander on her. While Iago patiently listens, Othello rages about Desdemonas infidelity and pours out his words in a gush of imagery mocking the kind seas that brought the couple to Cyprus. Desdemona does not keep her peace for the whole play; she speaks at Cassios request and Iagos manipulation. She pesters Othello with the suit, promising to talk him out of patience and giving a long, repetitive entreaty with its nagging cadences of, Shallt be shortly?shallt be tonight?tomorrow dinner then? etc. Othello dismisses Desdemona and murmurs a loving aside, apparently about to give in, but Iago turns her words against her and implicitly contrasts them with his own virtuous reticence. Othello, though possessed of an elegant tongue, prof esses his own inexperience in speech to the Dukes council; he mistrusts his own words, doubting that they wooed Desdemona enough, and in his worry wonders whether she tired of him because he lacks soft parts of conversation. Iago demonstrates the power of his words as he employs them to cast doubt on Desdemonas, but Othello fails to understand the tactic. It is not words that shakes me thus he exclaims upon falling into a fit, yet, of course, it is; words, and the play of his imagination. To Othello, more honesty resides in Iagos hesitant speech than in Desdemonas long scolding. As Iagos tightens his grip on Othellos mind, he speaks more freely. At first he swears, you cannot [know my thoughts], if my heart were in your hand and I am not bound toutter my thoughts, but later changes his tack, saying, as I am bound, receive it from me. He tells Othello what the general already half-believes, furthering Othellos trust in words with him. The more Othello listens to Iago, the more words control him, and the less he realizes it. He abandons his demand for ocular proof in an instant; Cassios mocking words and Desdemonas uneasy speech convince him at least as much as the sight of the handkerchief does. By his skill and luck, Iago finds enough of this proof to prevent Othello from realizing that he only heard half a conversation and saw no proof at all. This handkerchief scene, which mixes verbal and visual evidence, confuses Othellos trust in the visual with his suspicion of speech, and makes him put all his faith in Iagos account. And it is at this point that Desdemona, when speech could help her most, goes silent. Because Desdemona, unlike Othello, is unwilling to harm her beloved, another character must testify for her. The somewhat less pure and virtuous Emilia, heretofore quiet, calls for help, rails at Othello, and condemns Iago. It is difficult to say just how much Emilia knew about her husbands plot, but she does come very close to unmasking him, knowingly or not, before Desdemona; she also wails, I thought so then upon hearing his scheme. She stood by while Othello shouted at his wife, demanding the handkerchief Emilia gave to Iago. In spite of all this suspicion, she does not open her mouth until Desdemona is already dead. Iago complains that his wife nags him constantly when not in public, but he also claims that she has slept with about half the army, and we never hear Emilia pestering her husband. She declares herself eager to make him happy, doing nothing, but to please his fantasy, and indeed she seems to have some strange notion that Iagos fantasy can be pleased, avoiding the realization that she has married a demi-devil whose sole joy on earth is to destroy the greatness of better men than himself. When she asks him about the least of his crimes, suggesting Desdemonas guilt, she adds, I know thou didst not, thourt not such a villain./Speak, for my heart is full. Emilia, like Desdemona, dares not incriminate h er husband.Unfortunately for Iago, Emilia is not the epitome of virtue, maidenly silence, and devoted matrimonial love that Desdemona plays. This woman finds the role of servant to a kind mistress more important than that of wife to Iago. Like Othello, she has two competing relationships, one built upon love, the other based on authority; for her the positions are switched. Emilia and Desdemona discuss sexual infidelity as equals; Iago orders his wife around. Similarly, Othello marries Iago and then abuses Desdemona. Othello wavers between trusting his fears and his hopes about his spouse, moving between explosive rage, explosive love, and mute horror. If he cannot name the cause, Emilia can too well, mentioning it no less than five times in fourteen lines. She is not Iagos wife for nothing; her canny calculations of what it would take to make her cheat on her husband contrast both Othellos and Desdemonas innocent and impractical tongue-tied purity. Emilia is less effective than her husband; she does not approach his level of thinking everyone as base as possible. Perhaps Desdemonas advice of, Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband caused her unlucky trust in the essential goodness of humanity (unlikely) or perhaps, like Desdemona, Othello, and Roderigo, Emilia could just refused to wrap her mind around Iagos unbounded villainy. Yet she is the first to see it (except for poor Roderigo, who made the mistake of confronting Iago alone; were it not for Gratianos protection, Emilia would have ended up like the young Venetian before she could tell of the handkerchief) and when she finally realizes a fraction of its extent, she speaks.Emilias powerful, vengeful outburst of righteous indignationYou told a lie, a an odious, damnd lie!is the first truly free speech in the play. She will not stop for shame, like Cassio, or as Iago pretends to, for Desdemonas modesty or Biancas fear; Iago cannot command her silence like Roderigos or Othellos. No r is her accusation, like Othellos, Brabantios, or Roderigos (i.e., of Desdemona, not of Iago) spurred by him. Emilia, once she has seen the truth, confronts it though she betrays her husband, endangers her life, and threatens her disgrace. She does not react like Othello or Desdemona; she tells Iago plainly of the matter and he, not realizing the trap, admits to making the suggestion. When she explains the matter of the handkerchief, Othello believes her open outrage where he doubted Desdemonas fearful prayers.Iago, having lost his power over speech, reacts in the only way he can: he murders Emilia, and refuses to speak. His half-defiant gloat, Demand me nothing. What you know, you know./ From this time forth, I never will speak word, is his final taunt to the audience and Othello; we never doubt for an instant that he will break his oath, despite all the tortures the state can inflict. The play is over; most of the characters are or will soon be dead; he has no more reason to speak, no gulls to trap, no audience to confide in. Order has triumphed and the truth has outed, the state will handle everything and report what has happened. But none of that matters. Iagos silence still controls the play, the question of his motive still unsolved. Cassio may reign in Cyprus, but Iago rules both the hopelessly ignorant Venetians, sure that he will open his lips to pray, and the minds of the audience. Reputation and government may have the last word, but speech, the true heart of morality and power, lies beyond them.