These are my baby thoughts on Shakespeare and Providence. I gotta put em somewhere! They're burning inside me.

As I sat at my computer today, a connection struck me that, unfortunately, hadn't yet. I am glad that it has now, and so I am trying to make sense of it. It was the connection between Hamlet, and its theme of Providence, and Richard III and its theme of Providence. Both plays, obviously among Shakespeare's very best, treat of this difficult subject. Why? Is it accidental that Shakespeare's best works touch on this? Or is it an important part of the tapestry of his mind?

It occured to me today in class that a Greek tragedy would provide a possible interpretive model for Richard III. Take Oedipus for an example: he strove against the gods, and against fate, and failed. He ends up gouging out his eyes. Why? Because the truth that he finds is so terrible. Perhaps it would have been better if he had left it alone. But the real connection comes, for me, from the last play in the Oedipus trilogy. Oedipus at Colonus shows a response to fate that seems archetypal. The spiritual resignation of Oedipus reminded me very much of Clarence's reaction to his dream. It seems proper given fatalism.

But that's why Stanley is so interesting. And this is a Christian play.

That just throws it all up in the air for me. Is Shakespeare attempting a Christian version of Oedipus? Who is resigned to fate? Who is not? Are they virtuous because of their resignation? There are many questions to be asked.

As I sat at my computer today something touched a memory of Hamlet, and so I ran over these lines in my head:

There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; If it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

I love these lines because they're tricky, thick, and poetic. But I think they're also important to Shakespeare's understanding of providence. The idea, I admit, is not mine. It comes from C.S. Lewis' essay: "Hamlet: The Prince or the Poem." I haven't read it in a long time, but I thought it was good when I did, and the idea that Hamlet resigns himself somehow to Providence seemed convincing to me. It's helpful in explaining his delaying, and his subsequent decision to act. Lewis argued that those lines above were the critical ones in understanding Hamlet's character. That seems insightful to me, though perhaps it is not the final word.

But if Shakespeare thought that then, does he think it when he wrote Richard III? Can we expect to find the same theme? I suspect so, and so I have hope in understanding Richard III: this is a place to start.

I don't think it's the sum, though, of the ideas in Richard III. There is so much more! The curses are so eminently present. There is no doubt left to the audience, by the end, regarding the outcome of the play. But this is typical of Shakespeare: think Romeo and Juliet. At the beginning of that play they let us know what is going to happen, and then we just enjoy the ride. Zach's comment in class regarding Richard's enjoying the events may touch on this theme. But I don't understand that at all. How can that be? How can there be moral responsibility? What view of Providence IS THIS? It's hard for me to believe that Shakespeare is a Calvinist, but it may be true.

Dropping these considerations, something else occurred to me almost simultaneously on remembering the Hamlet quote. I'll put it phere.

Providence is a natural subject for a good playwrite, and especially Shakespeare.

There are several reasons for this. First, all great artists in a genre look to the artists before them when considering their art. You can't help but do it: every epic poem consciously has to respond to any other epic poem existing in that society (Virgil trumps Homer to be trumped by Dante). Shakespeare often consciously appeals to the great Greek Tragedians when he is considering his art (many examples, Henry V is one), and how can you not treat of Providence if you want to follow in their footsteps (and surpass them! Which he does. Shakespeare's a better playwrite than the Greeks and he probably knows it).

A second reason is simple, but more important. A play, as an image of life (Aristotle's Poetics) has to deal with Providence. The actors are not free. They are constrained by a playwrite, his text, and a director. So, as an image of life their very genre lends them a natural image with which they have to deal. If life is free, how do you portray it with constrained actors? If it's not, how do you draw this image to the attention of the audience? I'm reminded of the comedy As You Like It. There are so many levels in that play, and it is the play (coincidentally?) wherein Jacques makes that famous "The world's a stage..." speech. This insight is fresh for my mind at the moment, and seems relevant to Richard III. Richard III wields great power because he feels free to exist on any level that is necessary for his aim. He can lie, dissemble, etc. And in the end, it's to no end. He can't be God, after all. And, ironically, God has been using him the whole time to work out the Justice that Margaret has called upon.