Journal of the History of Sexuality, Vol. 4, 1993.
175-200.
Homophobia and the
Regulation of Desire: A Psychoanalytic Reading of Marlowe's Edward II
VIVIANA COMENSOLI Department
of English Wilfrid Laurier University
CRITICAL COMMENTARY ON Christopher
Marlowe portrayal of homosexuality in Edward II
1 is largely divided between those who see the
play as a morality-patterned tragedy inscribing a cause-and-effect
relation between a king's "unnatural" love for a male subordinate and
social disintegration
2
and those who claim that, while Marlowe may be sympathetic to the love
relationship between Edward and Gaveston, the issue of homosexuality is
isolated from the sociopolitical context of the tragedy. Within the
latter direction, the widely accepted view regarding the bold portrayal
of homosexuality in the play was initially proposed by W. M. Merchant,
who suggested that the spectator must reject Edward not for his
possibly abnormal sexuality but for his neglect of political duties.
3 For the most part, commentators
have viewed homosexuality in the play as an issue of morality rather
than as a problematic construct of forbidden desire.
4
More recently, Stephen Guy-Bray, in a provocative but brief polemic in
which he is critical of much of the scholarship on the construction of
homoeroticism in Edward II, has shown how during the past fifty
years homophobia has informed interpretations of the play's death
scene: "The critical suppression of the possibility of a positive
homosexual discourse imitates the action of Edward's murderer in a way
that does not disturb the critics, who seem to be only too eager to
deny social and political legitimacy to homosexuals."
5 And in Sodomy and Interpretation
Gregory Bredbeck argues that in its unmasking of "an unstable world of
amorphous power plays," Edward II
demonstrates how the "motives of politic ambition" are "obfuscated . .
. with a rhetoric of temporal sexuality," namely, homoeroticism.
6
What has been ignored is how Marlowe's deliberate distortions of
official Tudor history foreground an issue not overtly treated in his
chief sources ( Holinshed and Fabyan chronicles and Stow Annales of
England),
7 making homophobia a dominant cause of the
political struggle for power that on January 20, 1327, made
Edward II the first king since the Norman Conquest to be deposed.
The action of Edward II
covers a broad historical period, from the accession of Edward in 1307
to the execution of Roger Mortimer in 1330. Marlowe telescopes
historical material by creating an indeterminate time frame so that the
spectator is never entirely certain as to how much time has elapsed
between acts 1 and 5. The play would appear to span approximately one
year; however, references in the final act to the king as "agèd
Edward"
(5.2.120)
8
and "the old wolf" (5.2.7) suggest that a longer period of time has
passed. Historical indeterminacy is reinforced by Marlowe's extensive
modifications of a number of particulars recorded in his sources. In
addition to Marlowe's telescoping of historical time, other widely
observed distortions of chronicle material are: (1) Marlowe's more
explicit and complex portrayal of the homoerotic bond between the king
and Piers Gaveston; (2) Gaveston's and the Spencers' alleged status as
commoners;
9
(3) the political opposition to Edward on the grounds of the barons'
disdain for Gaveston, whom they deem "basely born" (1.4.402); and (4)
the militant influence of Roger Mortimer on the events leading to
Gaveston's and Edward's deaths. In the chronicles the overt cause of
the political unrest is not Gaveston's reinstatement but Edward's
disregard of the barons' counsel and his wasting of the treasury.
10 None of Marlowe's sources dwells at length on
the notorious friendship
between Edward and Gaveston, whom Fabyan describes as having a "wanton"
nature;
11
when they do, it is to illustrate the king's moral corruption by an
ambitious foreigner. The chroniclers hint at but never directly exploit
the political repercussions of the king's homosexuality. The covert
assumption, however, is that Edward's unruly body, and not just his
political ineptness, is responsible for his overthrow. Before
elaborating on the king's political failings, Stow describes Edward as
"faire of bodie, but vnstedfast of manners, and disposed to lightnes,
haunting the company of vile persons, and giuen wholly to the pleasure
of the body, not regarding to gouerne his common weale by discretion
and iustice," implying a link between Edward's misgovernance of the
realm and his riotous body, a combination that led to "great variance
betweene [Edward] and his Lords."
12
Holinshed, who amasses an extensive day-by-day itinerary of Edward's
rule, depicts the king's affection for Gaveston as incidental to the
barons' opposition to the ambitious and spendthrift earl: "A wonderfull
matter that the king should be so inchanted with the said earle, and so
addict himselfe, or rather fix his hart vpon a man of such a corrupt
humor, against whome the heads of the noblest houses in the land were
bent to deuise his ouerthrow."
13
Although Holinshed here posits no direct relation between the king's
homosexuality and his eventual deposition, except to marvel at his
persistence in loving Gaveston, throughout the chronicle he
periodically erupts in indignation at the king's "vndiscreet and wanton
misgouernance," building to a scenario in which the king comes to
acknowledge that the cause of his undoing has been forbidden desire:
"purg[ing]" his "heinous vices . . . by repentance," Edward "patientlie
suffered manie reproofes, and finallie death it selfe . . . after a
most cruel maner." Capitulating to the providentialist tradition of
Renaissance historiography, and minimizing the sexual overtones of the
political struggle for power, Holinshed asserts that the
kingdom would have fallen into greater disarray "if Gods goodnesse had
not béene the greater."
14
In effect, the assumption in all of the chronicles is that Edward's
sexual habits finally incurred not political rebellion but the wrath of
heaven: "in pryson," concurs Fabyan, the king "tooke great repentaunce
of his former lyfe, and made a lamentable complaynt for that he had so
greuously offendyd God."
15
Marlowe, on the other hand, unequivocally treats Edward's reinstatement
of his friend and lover, which contradicts the late Edward I's edict
that Gaveston be forever banished from the kingdom, as the main cause
of the ensuing clashes of power. This essay will argue that Marlowe's
deliberate departures from official explanations of the insurrection
against an anointed king help to locate the dramatization of Edward
II's homosexuality as a practice whose punishment is rooted in a form
of paranoia--specifically, homophobia--that is fostered and encouraged
by a society that is in crisis precisely because the structures of
patriarchy (an orderly body politic, compulsory heterosexuality, and
strict allegiance to the law) are no longer tenable.
In his revision of official Tudor
history, Marlowe posits a dialectical
relationship between psychosexual identity and political authority, and
he does so within a complex psychological framework. The appropriation
of historical discourses is mediated by the play's fantasy structures,
which revolve around forbidden sexuality. Marlowe portrays a sexually
"deviant" relationship by distorting the history of Edward II's reign
recorded in his sources, clarifying the (unconscious) expressions of
desire underlying the political crisis. This is not to posit a
transhistorical human subjectivity, but rather to suggest that Marlowe
constructs a world in which ideological structures are negotiated by
individuals' desires and repressions. The "premise of limited agency,"
writes Valerie Traub, "refuses to view individuals as freely subjugated
victims of their culture and recognizes the import of subjective,
psychic experience as well--for it is within the unconscious (itself a
social product) that the possibility of erotic disruption is born."
Although psychoanalysis often "ignores the location" of erotic
experience and practice within ideological structures, this "does not
obviate the existence of unconscious practices." Instead, the
psychoanalytic theory of the unconscious permits us to tap individual
fantasies, displacements, and repressions "as they exist within a
cultural field."
16 A psychoanalytic inquiry into Marlowe's
reconstruction of recorded history reveals an interplay between the
oedipal drama and other
fantasy patterns that are inextricable from the early modern
ideological codes that regulate the body and the body politic. The
psychological subtext of Edward II counters the providentialism that
underwrites Tudor historiography by locating the tragic deaths of the
major characters in the widespread, repressed fears of a heterosexist
culture dominated by rigid divisions in society and the self, divisions
that are under scrutiny in the play.
I
The dominant conflict in Edward II
is between subversive desire and the
political structures of authority. The chief exponent of the political
and moral order is the baron Mortimer Junior, the ahistorical leader of
the rebellion against Edward. Historically, the Mortimers took no
active part in the peers' opposition to Gaveston, and, although Roger
Mortimer did have a hand in Edward's death, both Holinshed and Stow are
vague about the extent of his involvement in regicide.
17
By linking Mortimer Junior to both Gaveston's and Edward's murders,
Marlowe overlaps the careers of the two most influential men in
Edward's life, intensifying the problematic relation between homophobia
and the political rebellion. It is chiefly through Mortimer's efforts
that the state eradicates the forbidden sexuality practiced by the king
and his "minion" Gaveston. Mortimer's selfprofessed role as the voice
of order is unquestioned not only by his supporters in the play but
also by modern critics. As Debra Belt recently has noted, " Mortimer's
self-representation as plain-speaker and moral man of affairs has been
accepted despite contrary evidence" in the play.
18 Mortimer is not the voice of authorial
consent to the judgments brought against Edward and Gaveston. Like
Edward, Mortimer is
highly individuated, the 1598 quarto's subtitle, "with the tragicall
fall of proud Mortimer," suggesting that Mortimer's personal tragedy
counterpoints Edward's. Mortimer's tragedy, like Edward's, is rooted in
the oedipal struggle between desire and the law of the father, a
struggle that mediates the crisis of order at the heart of the play.
Politically, Mortimer's anxiety
about Edward's disruption of the body
politic upholds the culturally inscribed fear of the negation of
compulsory heterosexuality, an institution that, by reference to
traditional ideals of law and order, justifies patriarchal authority
and dominance.
19
In his desire to enhance his position and status, Mortimer's political
ambition is inextricable from his virulent homophobia. Mortimer defends
the structures of patriarchal authority that Edward renounces and that
are predicated on the law of the father. "It is in the name of the
father,"
writes Jacques Lacan, "that we must recognize the support of the
symbolic function which . . . has identified his person with the figure
of the law."
20
In a patriarchal society such as early modern England, in which the
family formed "the fundamental economic unit of society" and "provided
the basis for . . . social order"
21 presided over by the father, only fathers
"were admitted to any share of political power."
22
The family was an entrenched and "frequently employed category in
political philosophy prior to the seventeenth century," and "the
patriarchal-familial conception had become the chief view of political
origins" by the time of the Stuarts.
23
Marlowe's audience would have recognized that a king's responsibilities
to his subjects were similar to those of the father in his role as head
of the household. The close link between paternal and kingly authority
had become "a burgeoning concept by the mid-sixteenth century,"
24
and writers and educators often employed the analogy between sovereign
and father in their discussions of an orderly state. In book 1 of The
Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity (c. 1594), Richard Hooker upheld the
natural, coterminous development of paternal and kingly government:
To Fathers, within their private
families, Nature hath given a supreme
power; for which cause . . . all men have ever been taken as lords and
lawful kings in their own houses. . . . It is no improbable opinion,
therefore, . . . that as the chiefest person in every household was
always as it were a king, so when numbers of households joined
themselves in civil societies together, kings were the first kind of
governors amongst them. Which is also . . . the reason why the name of
Father continued still in them, who of fathers were made rulers.
25
In 1609 King James declared that
"Kings are . . . compared to Fathers in families: for a King is trewly Parens
patriae,
the politique father of his people," and William Perkins defined the
family as the "first Societie" or "the Schoole," ruled over by the
father, "wherein are taught and learned the principles of authorities
and subiection."
26
Rebellion within the family was thus considered synonymous with
rebellion against the state. Those in subordinate positions--servants,
women, and children--"were 'subsumed' into the personalities of their
fathers and masters. Obedience was seen as the principal duty of
children and it was instilled in them by all the religious, emotional
and social pressures available"; indeed, the conduct-book literature
considered filial disobedience a grave transgression.
27
To the play's political rivalries
Marlowe adds a cluster of father-son
relationships that mirror the larger conflict between king and peers.
Altogether, there are three sets of fathers (or father-figures) and
sons in Edward II: the three Edwards, the Spencers, and the two
Mortimers. Central to the king/father/son configuration is the
protracted hostility between Edward and Mortimer Junior, a hostility
grounded in the two characters' antithetical feelings for the deceased
king. Edward's chief weakness as a monarch is his refusal to embody and
perpetrate the orderly body politic that he has inherited from his
father. The "law of the father" or the symbolic order of language,
writes Lacan, organizes human relationships according to the strictures
of civilization, namely, authority, decorum, and the order of meaning.
Desire, which "is affirmed as the absolute condition" and the
provenance of "paradoxical, deviant, erratic, eccentric, even
scandalous" impulses, and which is therefore contrary to the law of the
father, must be filtered through and subordinated to the symbolic
order.
28
In defying the late king's edict that Gaveston be banished-"'My father
is deceased. Come, Gaveston, / And share the kingdom with thy dearest
friend'" (1.1.1-2)--Edward gratifies a forbidden pleasure, for which he
will be punished. Edward's defiance of the father's authority is
juxtaposed with Mortimer Junior's allegiance to the late king, to whom
he had sworn that Gaveston would never be reinstated (1.1.82-89).
Psychologically, the Edward-Mortimer action conforms to rudimentary
oedipal impulses involving the male child's ambivalence toward the
father. More specifically, the opposition between Edward and Mortimer
configures a set of contradictory attitudes toward the father,
anticipating what Freud refers to as the "simple . . . Oedipus
complex,"
29
in which the male child's feelings for the father range from desiring
to kill him or to substitute for him, to acquiescing to his authority.
Freud has observed that the "relation of a boy to his father is . . .
an 'ambivalent' one. In addition to the hate which seeks to get rid of
the father as a rival, a measure of tenderness for him is also . . .
present." The ambivalence coalesces in the boy's "identification with"
and admiration for the father, on the one hand, and his desire to
destroy him, on the other: "At a certain moment," however, "the child
comes to understand that an attempt to remove his father as a rival
would be punished by him with castration."
30
Edward's affection for Gaveston (the object of the father's hatred) and
his neglect of political responsibility suggest a desire to subvert the
power of the father. Mortimer Junior's relentless opposition to
Gaveston, however, suggests the son's defense against subversive
feelings for the father.
Mortimer
Junior is the ideal son and subject whom the father would have favored
as the defender of patriarchal hierarchy and heterosexual legitimacy.
In his undivided loyalty to and consummate identification with the
father, Mortimer vicariously fulfills the role of castrating
father-figure, the parent eager to destroy the son for daring to
disobey. Although the other barons repeatedly vilify Gaveston,
Mortimer's rage far surpasses their hostility, to the point that he is
cautioned by Warwick: "Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer" (1.1.121).
That Mortimer's aggression has an extrapolitical underpinning is
reinforced by Marlowe's employment of the Actaeon myth to clarify the
patterns of violence in the play. Sara Munson Deats has observed that
the imagery of the play, and specifically the "ActaeonDian masque
described in Gaveston's second soliloquy, . . . associate[s] the King
with Actaeon" who was destroyed by a pack of hounds and who "suffered a
similar transformation from predator to prey"; especially significant
is the fact that Marlowe "links only one of the fractious nobles (the
ruthless Mortimer Junior) with the 'hounds' who attack and dilacerate
the King."
31
Mortimer's verbal assaults against Edward and Gaveston reveal a strong
identification with the father's jealous aggressiveness. These include
references to the "brainsick king" (1.1.125) who is "love-sick for his
minion" (1.4.87), and to the "sly inveigling [that is, seductive]
Frenchman" (1.2.57) whom Mortimer "abhor[s]" (1.4.239) and whom he
hopes to "hale . . . from the bosom of the king, / And at the court
gate hang" (1.2.29-30). Mortimer's paternal rhetoric stems from a
personal animosity toward Gaveston and "a burning zeal / To mend the
king" (1.4.256-57). The subjective nature of Mortimer's outbursts is
reinforced by the pride that he takes in his sword, the instrument with
which he eagerly defeats the father's enemies. Mortimer frequently
refers to the sword as his most valuable possession, an object with a
vitality of its own: "This sword," he warns Edward, "shall sleep within
the scabbard" before Mortimer will break his oath to the late king
(1.1.86-87); and he articulates his fantasy to "strike off" the source
of Edward's pleasure, Gaveston's "head," in a barrage of phallic
imagery:
Mortimer Jr. . . . our hands I
hope shall fence our heads
And strike off his that makes you [ Edward] threaten us.
[1.1.123-24]
But whiles I have a sword, a
hand, a heart,
I will not yield to any such upstart.
You know my mind . . .
[1.4.421-23]
"To decapitate," writes Freud, "is
to castrate"; and Norman Holland
suggests that "eyes, hands, legs, head, or mind can all symbolize the
phallus in castration fantasies."
32
However abhorrent the signifiers of castration may be "in themselves,"
argues Freud, "they nevertheless serve . . . as a mitigation of the
horror, for they replace the penis, the absence of which is the cause
of the horror."
33
Indeed, the relation of manhood, the phallus, and power in Edward II
revolves around anxiety about castration. "While imagery of beheading,
or wounding of the head, is obtrusive throughout Marlowe," observes
Constance Kuriyama, " Edward II is the only play in which it is so
insistent that it might be considered a structural device."
34 The device, I would suggest, is brought into
relief in the Edward-Mortimer action, where the oedipal rivalry is
centered.
Edward, although ostensibly more
passive and self-pitying than
Mortimer, reciprocates the latter's verbal assaults with the threat of
his own phallic strength:
The sword shall plane the
furrows of thy brows,
And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.
[1.1.94-95]
Treacherous Warwick! Traitorous
Mortimer!
If I be England's king, in lakes of gore
Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail,
That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood,
And stain my royal standard with the same,
That so my bloody colors may suggest
Remembrance of revenge immortally
On your accursèd traitorous progeny.
[3.2.134-41]
In his study of Edward's
masochistic suffering as it is manifested in
extreme "passivity and self-pity," Matthew Proser writes that
"masochism is not really passive at all, but like sadism, requires
activity, risk, and energy."
35
Noting that "active and passive forms are habitually found to occur
together in the same individual," Freud conjectures that "a sadist is
always at the same time a masochist, although the active or the passive
aspect of the perversion may be the more strongly
developed."
36
More important, Freud locates sadomasochistic tendencies in the fear of
castration stemming from the simultaneous desire for and hatred of the
father: the rage, for example, that frequently accompanies "the
sadistic phase" is an urge "to force punishments and beatings" from the
father, thereby "obtain[ing] from him the masochistic sexual
satisfaction" that is desired.
37
If viewed in the context of father-fixation, Edward's provocations of
the peers are tantamount to the desire for both their respect and their
disapproval or punishment. However, a similar castration anxiety, we
have seen, is enacted by Mortimer Junior. To both Edward and Mortimer
the phallus represents autonomy, its loss equated with the loss of
self.
While Mortimer Junior
identifies with that aspect of the father that is terrifying and
threatening to the son, the text's multiple fantasy structures also
call attention to Mortimer's dangerous identification with Edward.
Mortimer, at least ostensibly, is heterosexual like the father. Yet his
love relationship with Queen Isabella always takes second place to his
desire to overthrow Gaveston, suggesting, I will argue, an unconscious
fear of his own homoerotic impulses. Mortimer's latent homosexuality is
suggested by two important ahistorical developments: his preoccupation
with and contempt for Gaveston's deviant masculinity, which the barons
equate with baseness; and his collusion with Isabella in plotting
Gaveston's death.
II
For some commentators, Marlowe's
departure from his sources in the
(apparent) demotion of Gaveston from gentleman to "groom," together
with the political controversy that Gaveston's low birth provokes, is a
serious dramatic weakness. The baronial faction, complains Wilbur
Sanders, "is from the start frozen in the least interesting of
postures, and condemned in its utterances to a monotone, . . . as they
inveigh interminably against 'that base and obscure Gaveston,' . . .
[so that] it is hard to imagine anything less instructive than this
head-on collision of meaningless obsessions."
38
Others readily accept Mortimer's and the peers' stated reason for
wanting to be rid of Gaveston--that he is a social climber. Claude
Summers voices a common observation when he writes that "the barons'
objection to Gaveston
(and, later, to Spencer) has nothing to do with morality and everything
to do with class. Most simply, they are determined not to be
'ouerpeerd.'"
39
Yet, while the barons persistently refer to Gaveston as a "peasant," a
characterization that has been readily accepted by critics, there is no
textual evidence to support the claim that Marlowe has modified his
sources to make Gaveston lowly born. As Debra Belt observes, " Marlowe
himself goes to some lengths to insure that this characterization is
not confused with literal fact: he has not only Edward but Mortimer
admit that the label is inaccurate (see 1.4.29)."
40
A fourteenth-century monastic account of the life of Edward II suggests
that the barons' raillery at Gaveston's (exaggerated) social
inferiority was historically commonplace: "The earls and barons of
England looked down upon Piers, because, as a foreigner and formerly a
mere man-at-arms raised to such distinction and eminence, he was
unmindful of his former rank. Thus he was an object of mockery to
almost everyone in the kingdom."
41
The widespread insistence, in elite and popular discourses, on
Gaveston's social climbing as a target of derision conforms to the
need, during periods of intense political crisis, to displace
"non-sexual fears on to the sexual deviant," a process that attains its
success because other forms of insubordination "are not only loosely
associated with the sexual deviant, but 'condensed' in the very
definition of deviance."
42
It is Holinshed, the Elizabethan chronicler, who clarifies the link
between Gaveston's "baseness," sexual deviance, and political
instability. Blaming Gaveston for Edward's "plaie[ing] diuers
wanton and light parts," a
practice that became more and more "outragious," Holinshed writes that
the king preferred to give
himselfe to wantonnes, passing
his time in voluptuous pleasure, and
riotous excesse: and to helpe them forward in that kind of life, the
foresaid Peers . . . furnished his court with companies of iesters,
ruffians, flattering parasites, musicians, and other vile and naughtie
ribalds, that the king might spend both daies and nights in iesting,
plaieng, blanketing [sic], and in such other filthie and
dishonorable exercises.
43
The "other filthie and dishonorable
exercises," we infer, include
sodomy, which in Elizabethan and Puritan treatises was generally
characterized as a form of debauchery, a heinous vice rooted in
postlapsarian corruption, whose widespread practice threatened the
integrity of the social order.
44
In his history of the Plymouth colony, Governor William Bradford,
wondering why "sodomy and buggery (things fearful to name) have broke
forth in this land," concluded that "our corrupt natures" are to blame;
and for the Puritan divine John Rainolds sodomy was a sin to which
"men's natural corruption and viciousness is prone."
45
Edward II brings into focus the
anxiety that in Marlowe's sources is
merely implied, namely, that the barons' political insurrection is
situated in the conceptualization of sodomy as a (base) threat to
heterosexual privilege--a threat attesting to profound disorder in the
body politic. Indeed, the "scandal" at the heart of Edward's "wilful"
disregard of the proscriptions against sodomy inherent in homosocial
codes is an alternative body politic. Edward's unrestrained love for
Gaveston represents the reconfiguration not only of the (normal) body,
but also of the political economy. In male-bonding patriarchal cultures
such as feudal and early modern England, in which all primary political
relationships are between men, and in which women participate only as
"objects" in "the total relationship of exchange" and not as
"partners,"
46 the regulation of homoeroticism must be
strictly enforced. As Eve Sedgwick points out, the emphasis on the
homosexual as a separate entity in homosocial cultures stems "not
necessarily from its regulatory relation to a nascent or
alreadyconstituted minority of homosexual people or desires, but from
its potential for giving whoever wields it a structuring definitional
leverage over the whole range of male bonds that shape the social
constitution." 47
In Edward II "baseness," then, is a
signifier of the unstated cause of
political and social instability--homoeroticism. The two epithets most
frequently hurled at Gaveston by the barons are "base" and "minion";
and, as Harry Levin notes, the most common of these two epithets is
"minion."
48
Throughout the play the barons' language, and Mortimer Junior's in
particular, fuses Gaveston's despised baseness with his corrupt
body/phallus: "that base peasant" (1.4.7), "fish" (1.4.221), "that vile
torpedo" (1.4.223). For Mortimer, the epithet "base" signifies the
minion's pathologized body, the site of anal filth and disease:
Gaveston is a "canker [that] creeps" (2.2.18), a "plague" in need of
"purging" (1.4.270). Mortimer's anxiety conforms to "'homosexual
panic,' . . . the most private, psychologized form [of homophobic
violence]" in which many men in male-bonding societies "experience
their vulnerability to the social pressure of homophobic blackmail."
49
Vile, sodomized bodies must be coerced, if necessary, to enact the
ritual of heterosexual identity. As Michel Foucault has shown, "the
body is . . . directly involved in a political field; power relations
have an immediate hold upon it; they invest it, mark it, train it,
torture it, force it to carry out tasks, to perform ceremonies, to emit
signs."
50
Among the institutions whose function in the early modern period was to
circumscribe eroticized bodies was marriage. "Desire," writes Catherine
Belsey, "was to be more thoroughly contained and confined within . . .
marriage, and thus brought under the control of the Law (and the law).
. . . Marriage makes desire legitimate, brings it within the bounds of
propriety and orthodoxy, on condition . . . that it is suitably
heterosexual" and "non-incestuous."
51
Early in the play, the king yields to political pressure against his
relationship with Gaveston by arranging Gaveston's marriage to his
(Edward's) niece (1.4.376-78). Edward's concession temporarily brings
about political amity between himself and the barons. Appeased by the
prospect of the pending marriage, Warwick promises to undertake
whatever "your highness shall command" (1.4.383), and the elder
Mortimer, observing that "now . . . the king is changed" (1.4.419),
advises Mortimer Junior: "Leave now to oppose thyself against the king"
(1.4.386). Reminding his nephew that "the mightiest kings have had
their minions" (1.4.390), Mortimer Senior advises him to permit the
"youth[ful]" and "flexible" king (1.4.397) to "enjoy that vain,
light-headed earl, / For riper years will wean him from such toys"
(1.4.399-400). The elder baron's plea is usually interpreted as
evidence that the king's wish to keep a male lover is not a political
issue,
52
a reading that fails to account for the causal relation between
Gaveston's marriage and the peers' sudden reversal on the issue of
Edward's flagrant homosexuality. As long as heterosexuality is
officially, if not privately, practiced sodomy is a containable threat.
But despite Gaveston's marriage, Edward intensifies his public displays
of affection. When Edward taunts the barons with his "outrageous"
(2.2.55) desire for Gaveston, we overhear Marlowe debunking Holinshed's
judgment of Edward's and Gaveston's "disordred dooings" as increasingly
"outragious." 53
King Edward. My
Gaveston!
Welcome to Tynemouth! Welcome to thy friend!
Thy absence made me droop and pine away;
For, as the lovers of fair Danë,
When she was locked up in a brazen tower,
Desired her more and waxed outrageous,
So did it sure with me. . . .
[2.2.50-56]
As the father's and the state's
defender of order and propriety,
Mortimer Junior initiates the plot--"I'll give the onset" (2.3.19)--to
rid the state of the deviance embodied by the "wanton" king (1.4.199)
and his minion.
In response to his uncle's
reminder of the widespread practice of
men loving men even among mighty
warriors (1.4.390-95), Mortimer Junior
initially defends his passionate disdain for Gaveston by denying that
homoeroticism troubles him: "Uncle, his wanton humor grieves not me; /
But this I scorn, that one so basely born / Should by his sovereign's
favor grow so pert" (1.4.401-3). Yet in the same speech Mortimer's
scorn fixes upon the seemingly pettier issue of Gaveston's apparel.
What Mortimer finds particularly disturbing about Gaveston's
ultrafashionable attire is not only that its Italianate character is a
reminder of a degenerate foreign world, but that it is also
ostentatiously and grotesquely effeminate:
He wears a lord's revenue on his
back,
And, Midas-like, he jets it in the court
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk.
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,
Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap
A jewel of more value than the crown.
[1.4.406-14]
Mortimer is obliquely echoing the
cultural commonplace that Italians
were responsible for exporting to England and France not only a
"fashion" for clothes but also for sodomy.
54
The imputation would also have reminded an Elizabethan audience of the
warning against effeminacy found in the "Sermon against Excess of
Apparel" in the 1547 Book of Homilies: "Yea many men are become
so effeminate, that they care not what they spend in disguising
themselves, ever desiring new toys, and inventing new fashions."
55
Mortimer's use of the polynomial word "jet" (1.4.407) to describe
Gaveston's effeminate behavior situates Gaveston's threat within a
political economy of the body. In noun form, a jet is "a hard, compact
black form of brown coal, . . . capable of receiving a brilliant
polish"; a "fashion, style," or "manner"; a "projection, protruding
part"; and "an affected movement . . . of the body." As a verb, "jet"
is associated with pride, effeminacy, and excess: it means to "vaunt,"
"brag," and "walk or move about in ostentatious manner" ( Oxford
English Dictionary). Effeminacy associates men with a vain and
unruly femininity that challenges patriarchal authority in the
degeneration of rational men into the irrational predisposition of
women.
56
Mortimer's quip that it is "as if that Proteus, god of shapes,
appeared" (1.4.410) further confirms that the source of his anxiety is
Gaveston's abrogation of the political field through social and sexual
fluidity.
Gaveston's protean
ability to transgress fixed boundaries contrasts sharply with the
younger Mortimer's self-image as the defender of orthodoxy. But at the
same time as Mortimer functions as the custodian of the status quo, he
betrays a perverse fascination with the king's "base . . . groom"
(1.4.291). In effect, the shrillness of his accusations against
Gaveston disguises a fear of his own subversive impulses, a fear that
is subtly reinforced by his request of the barons to equate him with
Gaveston's baseness, should he prove lax in his efforts to depose him:
"My lords, if to perform this I be slack, / Think me as base a groom as
Gaveston" (1.4.290-91). In a startling ironic reversal, Mortimer in act
5 is castigated as a "traitor," and the epithet formerly hurled at
Gaveston, "base," is now applied to Mortimer by Kent (5.5.89). Mortimer
is so repulsed by Gaveston's "baseness" that, at the instigation of
Isabella (1.4.225-29), he plots Gaveston's death;
57 later, he independently conspires Edward's
overthrow (two plots to which the other barons readily assent).
While Mortimer's and the other
barons' fear of Gaveston's social
climbing follows the common practice in Marlowe's sources, and in early
modern society at large, of projecting "non-sexual fears on to the
sexual deviant,"
58
Mortimer's intense hatred of Gaveston's "baseness" also springs from
the fear of being engulfed by something dirty, a common anal fantasy.
The fear--or, more accurately, the paranoia--provokes aggression,
guilt, and the desire to destroy the "hated" object. In his discussion
of the "institution of conscience" as being "at bottom an embodiment,
first of parental criticism, and subsequently of that of society,"
Freud cites repressed "libido of an essentially homosexual kind" as an
example of "a process which is repeated
in what takes place when a tendency towards repression develops out of
a prohibition or obstacle that came in the first instance from
without." The rebellion against "this 'censoring agency'" stems from
the individual's "desire . . . to liberate himself from all these
influences, beginning with the parental one, and out of his withdrawal
of homosexual libido from them," at which point conscience "confronts
him in a regressive form as a hostile influence from without," a fear
concomitant with paranoia.
59
Elsewhere, Freud further observes that in instances of paranoia "no
self-reproach . . . is formed"; instead, the pain "generated is
referred to [one's] . . . fellow-men in accordance with the psychical
formula of projection," the principal symptom of which is "distrust."
60
Jonathan Dollimore, following Freud, refers to the delusional paranoia
underlying repressed homosexuality as "not just a delusion of being
persecuted but an active homophobic attempt to persecute":
Certain kinds of paranoia are the
expression of desublimated but still
repressed homosexual desire. . . . The tortuous process whereby
repressed homosexuality comes to be expressed as paranoia can be
paraphrased as follows: the proposition "I (a man) love him" is
contradicted by delusions of persecution which loudly assert:
"I do not love him--I hate him." This proposition then
becomes transformed by projection into another: "he hates
(persecutes) me, which will justify me in hating him," and ends up as
"I do not love him--I hate him, because he persecutes
me."
61
The collusion between Mortimer and
Queen Isabella foregrounds the two
related fantasies in which Mortimer's paranoia is rooted: first, the
child's desire for both the father and the mother; and second, the
son's rage against the name and the law of the father, a rage that
stems from the father's ambiguous position with regard to the son's
sexuality.
Through Mortimer's plan
to recall Gaveston from banishment at the behest of Isabella, Marlowe
casts the queen as a symbolic mother/ mistress on whom the male child,
in this case Mortimer Junior, projects his sexual ambivalence.
According to Freud, "the simple Oedipus complex is by no means its
commonest form, but rather represents a simplification or
schematization which . . . is often enough justified for
practical purposes"; a "more complete Oedipus complex" is actually
"twofold, positive and negative, and is due to the bisexuality
originally present in children."
62
During these early stages of psychosexual development, the child is as
yet incapable of formulating distinctions according to gender: "All
human beings are capable of making a homosexual object-choice and have
in fact made one in their unconscious. . . . A choice of an object
independently of its sex--freedom to range equally over male and female
objects--as it is found in childhood . . . and early periods of
history, is the original basis from which . . . both the normal and the
inverted types develop."
63
Freud goes so far as to propose that "the ambivalence displayed in the
relations to the parents should be attributed entirely to bisexuality,"
that "it is not . . . developed out of identification in consequence of
rivalry."
64 Judith Butler, in Gender Trouble:
Feminism and the Subversion of Identity,
develops Freud's insight by suggesting that the ambivalence in such a
case would be conditioned by the boy's being forced to mediate "not
only between the two object choices, but the two sexual dispositions,
masculine and feminine." The male child's more typical repression of
homosexual desire, reasons Butler, "would, then, be the result, not of
the fear of castration by the father, but of the fear of
castration--that is, the [institutionalized] fear of 'feminization'
associated . . . with male homosexuality." According to this important
clarification of the oedipal drama, it is not, then, first and foremost
the heterosexual desire for the mother that must be punished and
repressed, "but the homosexual cathexis that must be subordinated to a
culturally sanctioned heterosexuality."
65
The fact that Mortimer Junior intensifies his illicit involvement with
Isabella only after she pleads with him for Gaveston's reinstatement,
and presumably his death, is a coherent extension of Mortimer's fear of
his own feminization. Flaunting his heterosexual union with Edward's
queen while simultaneously abhorring her feminine discourse--he rebukes
her, "Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, / You must not grow so
passionate in speeches" (4.4.15-16) -- Mortimer forfeits his desire for
the father, thereby consolidating his masculinity.
66
Mortimer's repressed homosexuality,
however, is reified in his
fantasies about Gaveston's demise. Notwithstanding the protective
delusion that keeps Mortimer from killing Gaveston on the grounds that
murder would bring "shame" to Mortimer's reputation as a soldier
(2.5.11-14), Mortimer fervently desires Gaveston's death. His "burning
zeal" (1.4.256) to cleanse the kingdom of the minion's influence is
consistent with "the intense 'burning' ambition" of those individuals
described by Freud as having sublimated "the excitations of particular
erotogenic zones."
67
More specifically, Mortimer's obstinacy and his fear of Gaveston's
sordidness are akin to the link noted by Freud between "obstinacy" and
"the sublimation of anal erotism"; the link is part of "a
reaction-formation against an interest in what is unclean and
disturbing and should not be part of the body," a response common in
individuals "who have retained the anal zone's erotogenic character in
adult life."
68
Freud insists, however, that this form of sublimation is not innate; it
develops instead "in accordance with the education demanded by our
present civilization," which suppresses certain forms of sexuality as
"unserviceable."
69
Underlying Mortimer's protective delusion is a deeper, unconscious
source of shame and apprehension, that is, his desire to penetrate
Gaveston. Provoked by Isabella's plea to reinstate Gaveston, Mortimer
fantasizes about how the latter's death will be carried out: "How
easily might some base slave be suborned / To greet his lordship with a
poniard" (1.4.265-66), thereby "purging . . . the realm" (1.4.270).
Soon thereafter, Mortimer and the other barons witness the amorous and
sumptuous reunion of Edward and Gaveston (2.2.50-63). Incited by
Edward's and Gaveston's "outrageous" behavior, Lancaster "draws his
sword," but it is Mortimer Junior who "wounds Gaveston"
(2.2.80,84). Fulfilling his previous fantasy of wounding Gaveston with
his own dagger, Mortimer ironically becomes the "base slave" of his
dream who greets Gaveston with "a poniard." Edward's phallus, the
object of Gaveston's pleasure, is displaced by Mortimer's sword, a
displacement serving at once as vicarious fulfillment and as punishment
of subversive desire.
In an instance of what critics
have explained away as Marlowe's rough plotting, the beheading of
Gaveston is almost immediately
followed by a message "from the barons" (3.2.148) requesting the
"remov[al]" of the king's new favorite, Spencer Junior, whose
"baseness" becomes the fresh target of abuse: "a putrifying branch /
That deads the royal vine" (3.2.162-63).
70
In a subsequent scene Mortimer Junior orders the execution of the
Spencers (4.6.49-50,74-75). If viewed according to the play's
understructures of desire, projection, and displacement, this seemingly
hasty compression of historical events enhances the cause-and-effect
relation between homophobia and the political uprising against the king
and his favorites.
Finally,
Mortimer's punishment of Edward is a direct extension of the
identification and repression that clarify his need to murder Gaveston
and to denounce Spencer Junior. Marlowe's sources are either silent
about the extent of Mortimer's involvement in Edward's death or else
understate its political implications.
71 Marlowe, on the other hand, makes Mortimer
responsible for Edward's "varied and increasingly cruel tortures."
72
Before Edward is executed, Mortimer has the king committed to a dungeon
that is, for all intents and purposes, a sewer. In prison, Edward
complains of "stench" (5.3.18) and of being surrounded by "foul
excrement" (5.3.26). Once again, Marlowe has modified his source
material in that the scatological emphasis is largely his creation.
73 In both Holinshed and Stow the fetid air of
Edward's dungeon is caused by decaying matter, not by excrement.
74
Edward's grotesque punishment by Mortimer's emissary Lightborn, who
administers the king's death by plunging a hot poker through his anus,
is an act of vengeance against the threat to society posed by sodomy.
75
In this context, the corporal torture of Edward is both the symbolic
fulfillment of Mortimer's own anal-erotic impulses, which he has
expressed and evaded all along, and a form of "ceremonial punishment"
of the body that, as Foucault observes, coextends with
the early modern construction of the body "as the major target of penal
repression."
76
As part of the apparatus of repression that underwrites early modern
patriarchal law, the "quality, intensity, [and] duration of pain,"
together with the execution itself, must be public and "spectacular"
and must be perceived "by all" as the law's "triumph."
77
Thus, while the chronicles record that Edward II's murder took place
"suddenlie one night . . . [in] the chamber where he laie in bed fast
asléepe," the nature of the punishment is such that it
reverberates far
beyond the castle walls: "His [ Edward's] crie did mooue manie within
the castell and towne of Berkley to compassion, plainelie hearing him
vtter a wailefull noise, . . . so that diuerse being awakened therewith
. . . praied heartilie to God to receiue his soule, when they
vnderstood by his crie what the matter ment."
78 In Edward II
the success of the gruesome ritual of justice hinges on its acceptance
by the theater audience. Karen Cunningham has observed the
metatheatrical interplay of erotic and violent impulses in the
execution scene: "Lightborn . . . lovingly detail[s] the poisonings,
stranglings, and throat piercings that make up his preferred modes of
murder. . . . But he seeks to surpass his earlier performances" by
appealing to "theatrical bravado, . . . murder[ing] the king with iron
and table, then solicit[ing] the approval of his
accomplice-spectators."
79
But at the same time as the play encodes the ideology of corporal
repression, Marlowe invites the spectator to perceive the ritual of
pain as the expression of an economy of power. While the denouement
ostensibly "erupts into a show of homosexual sadism . . . in which the
punishment fits the crime," observes Purvis Boyette, Marlowe "provokes
an audience to question, and by questioning to doubt, the institutions
and world models presumed and defended by the characters in the play."
80
The law of the father, in which the
economy of power is situated,
prevails in the end. Although Mortimer has executed Edward, colluded
with Isabella, and become the Lord Protector of young Edward III, his
transgressions are in turn punished by the new king, who prefers the
penalty of beheading:
My father's murdered through thy
[ Mortimer's] treachery,
And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse
Thy hateful and accursèd head shall lie
To witness to the world that by thy means
His kingly body was too soon interred.
[5.6.28-32]
Alone on stage with Mortimer's
severed head, Edward III, who wants to
be thought of as neither "pitiful" (5.6.82) nor
lenient--"Accursèd
head, / Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now, / Thou hadst not
hatched this monstrous treachery!" (5.6.95-97)--vindicates the order of
meaning, providing "graphic proof that he has come of age in this
brutal society as his father's lawful and worthy successor."
81
By accepting at face value the
barons' deposition of Edward II strictly
on the grounds of political incompetence, as has been the general
practice in Marlowe scholarship, we are thus ignoring the subversive
implications of Marlowe's interrogation of official history. As leader
of the rebel faction, Mortimer Junior has been concerned not only with
"hav[ing] the people of our side" (1.4.282) but, more important, with
how his actions will be recorded by historians. Significantly, none of
the chroniclers explores either the political or moral implications of
Mortimer's love relationship with the queen. And they all say very
little about the murder of Gaveston, except to verify Mortimer's
unsettling prediction, as early as act 1, that Gaveston's murderer
shall "in the chronicle enrol his name / For purging the realm of such
a plague" (1.4.269-70) with no one "so much as blam[ing] the murderer"
(1.4.267). Holinshed, for one, applauds Gaveston's murder precisely as
Mortimer has anticipated: "A iust reward for so scornefull and
contemptuous a merchant, . . . which he [ Gaveston] pulled by violent
meanes on himselfe with the cords of his owne lewdnesse, and could not
escape this fatall fall."
82
Mortimer's prediction was also echoed in a number of contemporary
treatises and popular songs; a case in point is the political jingle "De
Petro de Gaverstone" ("On the Death of Peter Gaveston"), which
concludes: "Gloria
sit Creator! gloria comitibus / Quifecerunt Petrum mori cum suis
carminibus! / A modo sit pax et plausus in Anglorum finibus!"
(Glory to the Earls / Who have made Peter die with his charms! /
Henceforth may there be peace and rejoicing throughout England!).
83 In the denouement of Edward II
Marlowe exposes the popular resentment against Gaveston by hinging the
punishments of the traitors strictly on regicide, not on Gaveston's
murder.
84
Whereas in the chronicles Edward's and Gaveston's punishments amount to
a providential cleansing of the state, in Edward II they are heinous
acts rooted in "the paranoid instabilities" at the core of early modern
culture.
85
Marlowe's radical reassessment of Edward II's reign encodes an incisive
critique of Tudor historiography, whose aim is to impose on human
action an idealized, providentialist naturalism that is out of step
with the brutal world of realpolitik and repressed desire in Edward
II.
____________________
| |
A shorter version of this
paper was presented to the Marlowe Society at
the annual meeting of the Modern Language Association of America, San
Francisco, December 27-30, 1991. I am especially grateful to Sara
Munson Deats and Constance Kuriyama for their helpful comments and
suggestions. I would also like to thank the anonymous reviewers for the
Journal of the History of Sexuality and Kay
Stockholder, who read and commented on an early draft. |
| 1 |
Because the term
"homosexuality" is not found in Renaissance
discourses, I am following the practice of a number of modern
historiographers and commentators who employ it "in as directly
physical--and hence culturally neutral--a sense as possible" ( Alan
Bray, Homosexuality in Renaissance England [ Boston, 1982 ], p.
17). This does not mean, however, that the early modern period did not
conceptualize forbidden sexual practices. Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, in her
Epistemology of the Closet (Berkeley, CA, 1990 ),
notes that
while "the word 'homosexual' entered Euro-American discourse during the
last third of the nineteenth century, . . . the sexual behaviors, and
even for some people the conscious identities, denoted by the new term
'homosexual' and its contemporary variants already had a long, rich
history" (p. 2). And Jonathan Dollimore, in his analysis of the
construction of sexual deviance in early modern England, writes that
the "nearest concepts" to the term "homosexual" at this time "were
probably sodomy and buggery" but that "there remain certain
continuities" between early modern conceptions of sodomy and
homosexuality "as a modern identity"; sodomy, for example, was a
signifier of deviance, namely, "the point of entry into civilization
for the unnatural, the aberrant, and the abhorrent, the wilderness of
disorder" that "might . . . infiltrate civilization through diverse
subject types" ( Jonathan Dollimore, Sexual Dissidence: Augustine
to Wilde, Freud to Foucault
[ Oxford, 1991 ], pp. 238-39). Joseph Cady, arguing against "the
dominant claim in gay studies now that homosexuality is a relatively
new historical 'invention,'" carefully and persuasively demonstrates
that the term "masculine love," which was especially
widespread in early modern discourses "as a
language for a male homosexual orientation," indicates that there was
"a definite recognition of a distinct homosexuality, acknowledged at
least by those who were willing to face and discuss the subject
frankly" ( Joseph Cady, "'Masculine Love,' Renaissance Writing, and the
'New Invention' of Homosexuality," in Homosexuality in Renaissance
and Enlightenment England: Literary Representations in Historical
Context, ed. Claude J. Summers [ New York, 1992 ], p. 9).
Similarly, Bruce R. Smith, in his Homosexual Desire in
Shakespeare's England: A Cultural Poetics
(Chicago, 1991 ), asserts that while "no one in England during the
sixteenth or seventeenth centuries would have thought of himself as
'gay' or 'homosexual' for the simple reason that those categories of
self-definition did not exist," that does not preclude the existence of
"men . . . whose sexual desires were turned primarily toward other men"
(p. 12). Valerie Traub, in her Desire and Anxiety: Circulations of
Sexuality in Shakespearean Drama
(New York, 1992 ), cites current historical and anthropological
research demonstrating that "a significant proportion of men and women
have engaged in same-gender erotic activities throughout history" (pp.
8-9). Although Traub concedes that "no such category as homosexuality
operated in early modern culture," she postulates that "insofar as the
entire erotic system seemed relatively fluid and continuous, we need to
entertain the related proposition that the early modern construction of
heterosexuality was neither as unified nor as codified as it was to
later become" (p. 16). And John Boswell, in "Categories, Experience,
and Sexuality," in Forms of Desire: Sexual Orientation and the
Social Constructionist Controversy,
ed. Edward Stein (New York, 1992 ), argues that "modern terms for
sexuality are not necessarily any more comprehensive or accurate about
the present than ancient ones are for the past," and that "application
of modern categories to the past, even if they do not match precisely,
may be a useful strategy for determining the relationship between the
two" (p. 142). |
| 2 |
W. L. Godshalk's is the
most reductive assessment of Marlowe's didactic
intent: Edward's and Gaveston's "unnatural relationship" leads
"directly to the anarchy which England experiences under Edward" ( W.
L. Godshalk, The Marlovian World Picture [ The Hague, 1974 ],
p. 69). Similarly, Charles G. Masington links Edward's homosexuality to
original sin and interprets Gaveston as the serpent intent on
destroying a paradisal England ( Charles G. Masington, Christopher
Marlowe's Tragic Vision: A Study in Damnation [ Athens, OH, 1972 ],
pp. 86-94). |
| 3 |
W. Moelwyn Merchant,
introduction to Edward the Second,
New Mermaids Series (1967; rpt. London, 1975 ), p. xvi. Leonora Leet
Brodwin only obliquely acknowledges the political implications of
sodomy in her suggestion that in Edward II Marlowe accepts and
"feel[s] empathy with all expressions of love," including "Edward's
pathetic attempt to base a life on love rather than policy" ( Leonora
Leet Brodwin, "Edward II:Marlowe's Culminating Treatment of Love," ELH
31 [ 1964 ]: 155, 143). Scott Giantvalley also observes that Marlowe
"ennobles the relationship" between Edward and Gaveston but suggests
that "the condemnation of Gaveston by Edward's nobles is politically
rather than sexually motivated" ( Scott Giantvalley, "Barnfield,
Drayton, and Marlowe: Homoeroticism and Homosexuality in Elizabethan
Literature," Pacific Coast Philology 16, no. 2 [ 1981 ]: 21).
And Bruce Smith, while noting that Marlowe's depiction of "a homosexual
relationship" creates a tension between "the autonomy of individuals"
and "the society in which they live," reaches the orthodox conclusion
that Edward fails to understand "England's needs as a kingdom" and that
"it is Gaveston's lowly birth, not the sexual relationship between
Edward and Gaveston, that truly enrages the lords" (Smith, pp. 217,
215). |
| 4 |
Simon Shepherd's
revisionary assessment of the Marlowe canon, in his Marlowe and the
Politics of Elizabethan Theatre (New York, 1986 ), also treats the
construction of homosexuality in Edward II
primarily from the point of view of how it subverts conventional
morality: Marlowe focuses on "the issue of sodomy" (p. 204) according
to early modern definitions of "manliness" in order to disrupt
prevailing notions of moral order (p. 207). |
| 5 |
Stephen
Guy-Bray, "Homophobia and the Depoliticizing of Edward II," English
Studies in Canada 17 ( 1991 ): 132. |
| 6 |
Gregory W.
Bredbeck, Sodomy and Interpretation: Marlowe to Milton (Ithaca,
NY, 1991 ), pp. 77, 61. |
| 7 |
The dissemination
and popularity of chronicle and historical literature
took hold in England "with the accession of Elizabeth in 1558" (see
Josie Slaughter Shumake, "The Sources of Marlowe's Edward II"
[Ph.D. diss., University of South Carolina, 1984], p. cxlv). It is
generally accepted that Marlowe may have been familiar with earlier
notable histories of Edward II's reign, including the numerous Latin
and English chronicles of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and,
in particular, William Caxton The Chronicles of England (
London, 1480), Ranulf Higden Polychronicon (London, 1482), the
several early sixteenth-century accounts (including Polydore Vergil 's
Anglicae Historiae [1534, 1546]), and
Richard Grafton Chronicle at Large and Meere History of the
Affayres of England
(London, 1569), works from which the English popular chroniclers drew.
Marlowe's presentation of historical material, however, suggests that
he relies primarily "on the popular and more easily accessible printed
sources of his day" (Shumake, p. cxlvi; see also R. I. Page,
"Christopher Marlowe and the Library of Matthew Parker," Notes and
Queries, n.s. 24, no. 6 [ 1977 ]: 510-14; and Merchant, p. xiii). |
| 10 |
Fabyan writes that
Edward "lyghtly . . . wolde discouer thynges of great counsayl"
and that "the kynges treasoure, by meane of the sayd Piers, was wasted"
( Robert Fabyan , The New Chronicles of England and France
[1516 and 1599; rpt. London, 1811 ], p. 417). |
| 8 |
Christopher Marlowe, Edward
II,
ed. Irving Ribner (New York, 1970 ). Subsequent references to the play
are to this edition (within parentheses in the text). |
| 9 |
Historically, Gaveston
was the son of a well-to-do Gascon knight, while
the Spencers belonged to the secondary nobility and came to lead the
royalists. On Marlowe's "deliberate departure from Holinshed" in his
portrayal of Gaveston's and the Spencers' social standing, see Claude
J. Summers, "Sex, Politics, and Self-Realization in Edward II," in "A
Poet and a Filthy Play-maker": New Essays on Christopher Marlowe,
ed. Kenneth Friedenreich, Roma Gill, and Constance B. Kuriyama (New
York, 1988 ), p. 226; and A. R. Myers, England in the Late Middle
Ages (Baltimore, 1952 ), p. 2. |
| 11 |
Fabyan, p. lxx. |
| 12 |
John Stow, The
Annales of England
(London, 1592), p. 320, section 38. Stow's rendition of Edward's
disorderly behavior echoes Fabyan's account: "This Edwarde was fayre of
body and great of strengthe, but vnstedfast of maners & vyle in
condycions; for he wolde refuse the company of lordes and men of
honoure, and haunte hym with vylayns & vyle persones: he also gaue
hym to great drynkynge, and lyghtly he wolde discouer thynges of great
counsayl . . ., which tourned hym to great dishonoure, and his lordes
to great vnrest" (p. 417). Both passages are in turn derived from
Ranulf Higden Polychronicon (see Polychronicon Ranulphi
Higden Monachi Cestrensis; Together with the English Translations of
John Trevisa and of an Unknown Writer of the Fifteenth Century, ed.
Joseph R. Lumby, Rolls Series, vol. 8, no. 41 [1882; rpt. London, 1964
], p. 298). |
| 13 |
Raphael Holinshed, The
Third Volume of Chronicles (1577, 1586), in Holinshed's
Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, vol. 2 ( 1807 ; rpt.
New York, 1965 ), p. 549.
|
| 14 |
Ibid., p. 587. |
| 15 |
Fabyan, p. 431. |
| 16 |
Traub, p. 11. |
| 17 |
Roger Mortimer, eighth Baron
of Wigmore and first Earl of March, "was
one of the Marcher lords who had briefly been a member of the Middle
Party and who had later rebelled against the Spensers. In early 1322 he
had submitted himself to Edward and was placed in the Tower. In August
1324 he escaped and made his way to France where he joined a group of
English fugitives" (Shumake, p. xlv). Holinshed, like Stow, does not
clearly implicate Mortimer in Edward's murder; Edward II's chief
enemies after his deposition are Queen Isabella (now Mortimer's lover)
and the Bishop of Hereford, who conspire in the king's torture and
death (Holinshed, p. 586). Fabyan notes only perfunctorily that the
king was removed to Berkeley Castle, "where after, about seynt Mathewys
tyde, the sayd Edwarde, by the meanys of Syr Roger Mortimer, was
myserably slayne" (p. 436). |
| 18 |
Debra Belt,
"Anti-Theatricalism and Rhetoric in Marlowe's Edward II," English
Literary Renaissance
21 ( 1991 ): 152. See also Bredbeck, p. 63, who notes "the primacy of
Mortimer" not in terms of his role as the exponent of moral order but
as the central figure in the struggle "between temporal and politic"
discourses in the play. |
| 19 |
Although James Voss does not
locate the political strife in Edward II
in Marlowe's treatment of the heterosexual and patriarchal structures
of authority, I am indebted to his reading of the events surrounding
Edward's defeat as reinforcing "the current hierarchy of authority" (
James Voss, "Edward H: Marlowe's Historical Tragedy," English
Studies 63 [ 1982 ]: 530). |
| 20 |
Jacques Lacan, Ecrits: A
Selection, trans. Alan Sheridan (New York, 1977 ), p. 67. |
| 21 |
Susan Dwyer Amussen, An
Ordered Society: Gender and Class in Early Modern England (New
York, 1988 ), p. 1. |
| 22 |
J. P. Sommerville, Politics
and Ideology in England, 1603-1640 (New York, 1986 ), p. 27. |
| 23 |
Gordon J. Schochet, Patriarchalism
in Political Thought: The Authoritarian Family and Political
Speculation and Attitudes Especially in Seventeenth-Century England
(Oxford, 1975 ), p. 54. |
| 24 |
Ibid., p. 43. |
| 25 |
Richard Hooker, The
Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, in The Works of Mr. Richard Hooker,
Containing Eight Books of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity and Several
Other Treatises, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1843 ), 1:198. |
| 26 |
James I, "A Speach to the
Lords and Commons of the Parliament at White-Hall," in The
Political Works of King James I, ed. Charles H. McIlwain
(Cambridge, MA, 1918 ), p. 307; William Perkins, Christian Oeconomy
(London, 1609 ), Qq5. |
| 27 |
Sommerville, p. 27. |
| 28 |
Lacan, pp. 265, 286. |
| 29 |
Sigmund Freud, "The Ego and
the Id," in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological
Works of Sigmund Freud, 24 vols., trans. and ed. James Strachey
(London, 1953-74 ), 19:32 (hereafter cited as SE). |
| 30 |
Sigmund Freud, "Dostoevsky
and Parricide," SE 21:183. |
| 31 |
Sara Munson Deats,
"Marlowe's Fearful Symmetry in Edward II," in Friedenreich et al.,
eds., p. 245. |
| 32 |
Sigmund Freud, "Medusa's
Head," SE 18:273; Norman Holland, The Dynamics of Literary
Response (New York, 1975 ), p. 43. |
| 33 |
Freud, "Medusa's Head," p.
273. |
| 34 |
Constance Brown Kuriyama, Hammer
or Anvil: Psychological Patterns in Christopher Marlowe's Plays
(New Brunswick, NJ, 1980 ), p. 190. |
| 35 |
Matthew N. Proser, "Edward's
Perils: Masochism in Marlowe's Suffering King," Literature and
Psychology 34 ( 1988 ): 17. |
| 36 |
Sigmund Freud, "Three Essays
on the Theory of Sexuality," SE 7:159. |
| 37 |
Sigmund Freud, "From the
History of an Infantile Neurosis," SE 17:27-28. |
| 38 |
Wilbur Sanders, The
Dramatist and the Received Idea: Studies in the Plays of Marlowe and
Shakespeare (Cambridge, 1968 ), p. 134. |
| 39 |
Summers, "Sex, Politics, and
Self-Realization," p. 225. Cf. Sharon
Tyler: "That Edward wishes to keep a minion is not a state affair. But
when that minion is . . . invited to use the treasury and seal at will,
that is a state affair" ( Sharon Tyler, "Bedfellows Make Strange
Politics: Christopher Marlowe's Edward II," in Drama, Sex, and
Politics,
ed. James Redmond [ Cambridge, MA, 1985 ], p. 58). A compelling
although strictly historical reading of the baronial opposition to
Gaveston has been undertaken by Walter Cohen, in his Drama of a
Nation: Public Theater in Renaissance England and Spain
(Ithaca, NY, 1985 ), who suggests that the political opposition must be
related to the fact that "throughout western Europe, royal
centralization required the partial exclusion of the titular nobility
from political power and its replacement by men of humbler station" who
relied extensively on monarchical favor (p. 232). In this context the
opposition to Gaveston in Edward II goes beyond "class condescension";
it derives from the "fundamental feudal attack on the formation of the
absolutist state" (p. 233). |
| 40 |
Belt, p. 152. The reference
is to Mortimer's quip that Gaveston is
"hardly . . . a gentleman by birth," to which Edward retorts: "Were he
a peasant, being my minion, / I'll make the proudest of you stoop to
him" (1.4.29-31; emphasis mine). |
| 41 |
The Life of Edward the
Second by the So-called Monk of Malmesbury, trans. and ed. N.
Denholm-Young (London, 1957 ), p. 3. |
| 42 |
Dollimore (n. 1 above), p.
237. "It is a process," argues Dollimore,
"especially apparent in early modern England, not least because of the
differences between its categories of sexual deviance and ours" (ibid.). |
| 43 |
Holinshed, p. 547. |
| 44 |
See Bray (n. 1 above), pp.
16-17: "The temptation to debauchery, from
which homosexuality was not clearly distinguished, was accepted as part
of the common lot, be it never so abhorred"; and Smith (n. 1 above), p.
217: "'Filthy,' in particular, is a word one seldom sees in connection
with any other moral concern." |
| 45 |
William Bradford, Of
Plymouth Plantation, 1620-1647 ( 1856 ; rpt. New York, 1981), p.
351; John Rainolds, Th'Overthrow of Stage-Playes (London,
1599), pp. 10, 32. |
| 46 |
Claude Lévi-Strauss,
The Elementary Structures of Kinship, trans. James Harle |
____________________
| |
Belland and John Richard von
Sturmer, ed. Rodney Needham (Boston, 1969), p. 115. |
| 47 |
Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, Between
Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (New York, 1985
), p. 86. |
| 48 |
Harry Levin, The
Overreacher: Christopher Marlowe (London, 1961 ), p. 115. |
| 49 |
Sedgwick, Between Men,
pp. 88-89. |
| 50 |
Michel Foucault, Discipline
and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, trans. Alan Sheridan (New
York, 1979 ), p. 25. |
| 51 |
Catherine Belsey, "Desire's
Excess and the English Renaissance Theatre: Edward II, Troilus and
Cressida, Othello," in Erotic Politics: Desire on the Renaissance
Stage, ed. Susan Zimmerman (New York, 1992 ), pp. 95-96. |
| 52 |
Tyler, p. 58; Giantvalley
(n. 3 above), p. 21. |
| 53 |
Holinshed, p. 547. |
| 54 |
See Lillian Faderman, Surpassing
the Love of Men: Romantic Friendship and Love between Women from the
Renaissance to the Present
(New York, 1981 ), p. 35; and James M. Saslow , "Homosexuality in the
Renaissance: Behavior, Identity, and Artistic Expression," in Hidden
from History: Reclaiming the Gay and Lesbian Past, ed. Martin Bauml
Duberman , Martha Vicinus, and George Chauncey, Jr. (New York, 1989 ),
p. 97. |
| 55 |
The Book of Homilies
(1547), p. 60. |
| 56 |
In a trenchant analysis of
"the culture of vanity" in early modern
England, Barry Taylor suggests that "the feminine is not merely another
of the categories which is marked negatively, as participating in the
counter-Commonwealth of vanity and singularity--it is the mark of that
negativity itself, the condition into which men fall when they have
dislodged themselves from the fully human order of Commonwealth" (
Barry Taylor, Vagrant Writing: Social and Semiotic Disorders in the
English Renaissance [ Toronto, 1991 ], p. 68). |
| 57 |
For the now widely accepted
view that Isabella first suggests to
Mortimer that Gaveston be recalled from banishment in order that he may
be murdered, see Claude J. Summers , "Isabella's Plea for Gaveston in
Marlowe's Edward II," Philological Quarterly 52 ( 1973 ):
308-10. |
| 58 |
Dollimore, p. 237 (see n. 42
above). |
| 59 |
Sigmund Freud, "On
Narcissism: An Introduction," SE 14:96. |
| 60 |
Sigmund Freud, "Case
Histories II: Draft K," SE 1:226. |
| 61 |
Dollimore, p. 177. |
| 62 |
Freud, "The Ego and the Id,"
p. 33. |
| 63 |
Freud, "Three Essays on the
Theory of Sexuality," pp. 145-46, n. 1. |
| 64 |
Freud, "The Ego and the Id,"
p. 33. |
| 65 |
Judith Butler, Gender
Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York, 1990 ),
p. 59. |
| 66 |
"As the metaphor of
consolidation suggests," writes Butler, "there are
clearly bits and pieces of masculinity to be found within the psychic
landscape, dispositions, sexual trends, and aims, but they are diffuse
and disorganized, unbounded by the exclusivity of a heterosexual object
choice. Indeed, if the boy renounces both aim and object and,
therefore, heterosexual
cathexis altogether, he internalizes the mother
and sets up a feminine superego which dissolves and disorganizes
masculinity, consolidating feminine libidinal dispositions in its
place" (p. 60). |
| 67 |
Sigmund Freud,
"Character and Anal Erotism," SE 9:175. |
| 68 |
Ibid., pp. 171-75. |
| 69 |
Ibid., p. 171. |
| 70 |
On the supposed dramatic
"improbabilities" of "this overlapping of action and reaction," see
Shumake, p. ciii. |
| 71 |
See n. 17 above. |
| 72 |
Shumake, p. cxli. |
| 73 |
Kuriyama, Hammer or Anvil,
p. 194. |
| 74 |
"The miserable prisoner" was
"lodged . . . in a chamber ouer a foule
filthie dungeon, full of dead carrion," so that he might die from
breathing "the abhominable stinch thereof" (Holinshed, p. 586). Stow
describes the foul air as stemming from "the stench of dead carcases,
layde in a Cellar vnder him [Edward]" (p. 344). |
| 75 |
Gregory Woods, in an
insightful analysis of the erotic subtext of
Lightborn's role, writes that Edward's executioner acts "like an
importunate lover, in order to gain access to the king's anus. He is
meticulous in his choice of an 'apt' death for the sodomite, a deadly
rape to be carried out in the place of excrement: cistern and rectum" (
Gregory Woods , "Body, Costume, and Desire in Christopher Marlowe," in
Summers, ed. [n. 1 above], p. 79). |
| 76 |
Foucault (n. 50 above), p.
8. |
| 77 |
Ibid., p. 34. |
| 78 |
Holinshed, p. 587. |
| 79 |
Karen Cunningham,
"Renaissance Execution and Marlovian Elocution: The Drama of Death," PMLA
105 ( 1990 ): 215. |
| 80 |
Purvis E. Boyette, "Wanton
Humour and Wanton Poets: Homosexuality in Marlowe's Edward II," Tulane
Studies in English 22 ( 1977 ): 48-49. |
| 81 |
Frank R. Ardolino, "Severed
and Brazen Heads: Headhunting in Elizabethan Drama," Journal of
Evolutionary Psychology 4, nos. 3-4 ( 1983 ): 176. |
| 82 |
Holinshed, p. 552. |
| 83 |
The Political Songs of
England from the Reign of John to That of Edward II, trans. and ed.
Thomas Wright (London, 1839 ), p. 260. |
| 84 |
Tyler (n. 39 above) also
observes that the "young Edward III . . .
speak[s] . . . of treason rather than murder" (p. 56), but she
understates the thematic significance of the distinction by viewing it
strictly as Marlowe's affirmation of his dramatic interest in the
political responsibilities of kingship. |
| 85 |
Dollimore, p. 237. |
|