|  | [p. 160] Donny Inbar TAMING OF THE JEWMarlowe's Barabas Vis-à-vis
 Shakespeare's Shylock
  Both 
        Christopher Marlowe's The Jew of Malta and William Shakespeare's 
        The Merchant of Venice present challenges to the contemporary reader 
        or interpreter, with regard to the character of "The Jew" in 
        their plays.(1) The stereotypical reference to Barabas and Shylock as 
        "The Jew," not to mention these characters' opprobrious characteristics 
        and deeds, is problematic in itself. "Marlowe's Barabas, like Shakespeare's 
        Shylock, is a criminal in the making," writes Martin D. Yaffe in 
        his analysis of both Jewish characters in Shylock and the Jewish Question: 
        "His crime is also prompted by his being a Jew."(2) Yet 
        Shylock can be regarded as a small-time crook, in comparison with Barabas' 
        abominable criminality. As John Gross defines it in his Shylock: A 
        Legend & its Legacy, Shakespeare's Jew "has been scaled down 
        and domesticated."(3) Thanks to this act of taming the Jew's character 
        from demonic to sardonic, Shylock has been perceived, both by contemporary 
        critics and theater people of the past two centuries, as a less problematic 
        or more presentable character.
   How 
        are the characters of Barabas and Shylock related, and what did the process 
        of "toning down" the Marlovian monster entail? Additionally, 
        since both plays and their Jewish characters evolve around materialism, 
        wouldn't it be proper to evaluate the price that Shakespeare may have 
        paid (on behalf of his "Jew") in this procedure. Furthermore, 
        does a character in a drama necessarily benefit from such a course of 
        "housebreaking"? In order to fully assess the stages in, and 
        implication of, the "taming of the Jew," there is need for basic 
        evaluations of Barabas and Shylock, as well as of the literary and historical 
        sources of both plays. This will set the ground for a discussion of the 
        relationship between the two characters.  [p. 161] Who is Barabas, what is The 
        Jew of Malta and how are they relevant to The Merchant of Venice? 
        Marlowe's tragedy gained considerable success (36 performances) when first 
        produced at the Rose Theatre in London in 1592.(4) The protagonist of 
        The Famous Tragedy of the Rich Ievv of Malta(5) is Barabas, a wealthy 
        Jew who lives on the Mediterranean Island of Malta with his beautiful 
        daughter; from Malta he runs a world-encompassing trading empire. Once 
        his possessions are confiscated by the corrupt Catholic governor of the 
        Island (who demands that he convert to Christianity), in order to defend 
        Malta from the Turks, the dispossessed Jew is swept into a whirlwind of 
        revenge, and turns into a serial killer; he assists the Turkish army to 
        conquer Malta, is appointed its governor, but ends up falling into his 
        own trap, a boiling cauldron, where he dies, cursing his world and its 
        creator.
  In comparison, Shakespeare's Jew in MV(6) (written 1594-8) is considerably 
        more tolerable. Shylock, too, is a rich Jew, who raises his only daughter 
        in a Mediterranean port-city, and who serves as a moneylender who profits 
        from the high interest he charges the Christian merchants. Like Barabas, 
        the contempt and humiliation he must endure from his Christian surroundings 
        drive him to the frenzy of a single vengeful obsession: he is determined 
        to cut off one pound of flesh from the body of Antonio, his debtor. Unlike 
        Barabas however, Shylock is stopped before a single drop of blood is shed, 
        and although he, too, is severely punished (and his possessions are confiscated 
        by the Christian authorities), he lives on, to bear his shame.
  What is the connection between the two plays? MV is definitely not 
        an adaptation of JM. John Mitchell, who claims in his populist book Who 
        Wrote Shakespeare? that Marlowe was among the profusion of Shakespeare's 
        "ghost writers," does not include MV among Marlowe's contributions 
        to the Shakespearean canon.(7) Both playwrights definitely relied upon 
        the same two popular perceptions of "The Jew" at their time. 
        On the one hand, they both counted on the "stage Jew" stock-character 
        of those days: "Any actor could put on a 'jew's nose' (
) to 
        play [p. 162] Marlowe's Barabas or 
        Shakespeare's Shylock."(8) On the other hand, since both playwrights 
        lived in a relatively "Jew-free" England, they must have been 
        inspired, partly, by the real-life figure of Doctor Rodrigo Lopez, a "New 
        Christian" immigrant from Portugal, who was nonetheless considered 
        a Jew, and had gained the prestigious position of Queen Elizabeth's personal 
        physician.(9) But whereas Marlowe's character and his plot may have also 
        been inspired by the historical model of Don Yossef Nasi, The Jewish Duke 
        of Naxos (see below),(10) Shakespeare based MV on three literary sources. 
        The first, irrelevant to this comparative discussion, is the story of 
        three caskets; the second is a tale, which appeared in various forms since 
        1200 in Italy, about the villainous Jewish moneylender who asks for a 
        bond in the form of a pound of flesh.(11) The third source is Marlowe's 
        play, which had gained immense popularity on the Elizabethan stage. To 
        cast away any doubt, Shakespeare openly alludes to Marlowe's original 
        when Shylock says, "I have a daughter; / Would any of the stock of 
        Barrabas / Had been her husband." (MV, IV:1, my emphasis).(12)
  [p. 163] The similarities in both 
        plays are not confined to the setup but relate as well to the theatrical 
        interpretation: it is noteworthy that despite the reliance on the comic 
        stock-character of the Jew, used by both playwrights, in spite of the 
        black humor in JM(13) and the fact that MV is categorized among Shakespeare's 
        comedies, the leading roles in both plays were originally portrayed by 
        the two finest dramatic actors of the Elizabethan stage: Edward Alleyn 
        (Barabas) and his rival Richard Burbage (Shylock.)(14)
  Ellen Schiff, writing about the tradition of the stage Jew, notes that,
  
        [I]t is hardly remarkable that The Merchant of 
          Venice, like The Jew of Malta (
) should deal with usury 
          when excesses in lending and forfeiture were gouging Englishmen. Similarly 
          predictable is the use of the reprehensible Jew to set off the generous, 
          merciful Christians.(15)   A superficial glance might perceive here, erroneously, two almost identical 
        twins out of some comedy: two despicable, rich Jewish characters at the 
        center of a conflict in a mercantile society of a Mediterranean city, 
        lose their money and pride, are even abandoned by their only daughters 
        (who convert to Christianity), are obsessed by revenge and are severely 
        punished by the Christian society that regains thereby its harmonious 
        order; both are repulsive clowns fit to be realized on stage by dramatic 
        actors. Yet it is necessary to distinguish between the two, as well as 
        between the setups and the authors. Barabas's creator is Marlowe, the 
        anarchist-atheist,(16) his advocate on stage is the devilish Machevil, 
        the prologue, and his crimes are several murders and treason. Shakespeare, 
        acting as Shylock's poetic attorney, reduces his Jew's crimes to misdemeanor. 
        No drop of blood is shed in MV, and the gory tragedy is transformed into 
        a somber comedy with a happy ending. It is almost as if Shakespeare succeeded 
        in taming the [p. 164] murderous monster 
        ("everybody's bogyman"(17)) into a domesticated, though annoying, 
        beast. According to Yaffe, the dichotomy goes beyond the Jewish characters 
        into the realm of their faiths and tribes. Whereas
  
        Shylock's turning to criminal behavior is, at least 
          in the eyes of the highest authorities of his city, tantamount to his 
          stepping outside the bounds of recognized Jewish teaching (
) In 
          the eyes of Barabas and his fellow denizens of Marlow's Malta, however, 
          the distinction between Jewishness and criminality is of no comparable 
          importance.(18)   But what did this process of redeeming the criminal Jew or his "taming" 
        actually entail? What price did the character of the despised Jew have 
        to pay in order to be pardoned on stage, and to be repeatedly revived 
        in the theater?(19) To use yet another metaphor from one of the plays, 
        what will our findings be when the two characters are placed on the literary 
        scales? The following comparisons, that will cover very different viewpoints 
        (such as literary, theatrical, or historical), will be conducted on various 
        levels, in order to fully evaluate the implication of the process of the 
        "domestication."
  The Jews in Mercantile Societies. "Which is the merchant 
        here, and which  the Jew?" (MV IV:1) is the appropriate question 
        with which to begin this series of evaluations. The first step in the 
        process of domestication, taken by Shakespeare, is to be found in the 
        (shortened version of the) title he gave his play. Both plays are titled 
        in a similar fashion: "The XXX of (location name)." In Marlowe's 
        case, XXX stands for "Jew," and refers to Barabas, the rich, 
        materialistic (and covetous) merchant. In Shakespeare's title, 
        "Merchant" is indeed the equivalent of Marlowe's "Jew." 
        However, Shakespeare's Jew, Shylock, though undeniably rich, materialistic 
        (and covetous), is not the merchant in the play. He is the usurer, 
        the unproductive moneylender. The merchant is Antonio, both protagonist 
        and Christian. Shylock is a mere secondary character. The dichotomy between 
        merchant and Jew and the similarities between Marlowe's [p. 
        165] and Shakespeare's merchants, are evident from the first 
        scene of MV. An early speech in MV bears many similarities to the following 
        verses in the JM opening scene:
  
        But now how stands the wind?Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?
 Ha, to the east? Yes: see how stand the vanes!
 East and by south; why then, I hope my ships
 I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles
 Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks:
 Mine argosy from Alexandria,
 Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail,
 Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore
 To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea. (JM I:1)
  And one of its corresponding texts from 
        MV:  
         Your mind is tossing on the ocean;There, where your argosies with portly sail,
 Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
 Or as it were, the pageants of the sea,
 Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
 That curtsy to them (do them reverence)
 As they fly by them with their woven wings. (MV I:1)
   These 
        are two speeches of merchants, or mercantile heroes, who yearn for their 
        ships (their argosies) to return safely to their homeports with their 
        cargoes intact.(20) Here lies the essential difference between Barabas 
        and Shylock: in Marlowe's play, these are the opening lines of the Jew 
        Barabas, a tycoon and a fearless entrepreneur in renaissance terms. But 
        in Shakespeare's play, the Venetian merchant to whom Salerio alludes is 
        the Christian Antonio, Shylock's rival. Shylock is condensed to fit the 
        requirements of an anti-Jewish stereotype: an unproductive parasite, who 
        refers to himself as a 'land rat', refraining from any involvement in 
        commercial ventures. Is Barabas to be compared with Antonio, then? Can 
        we claim that Shakespeare might have divided Barabas between Shylock and 
        Antonio, since Barabas as a single character was too much to handle? And 
        wouldn't such an action constitute the first sign in the process of "reducing" 
        the stage Jew?  [p. 166] Fact and Fiction. 
        Another interesting divergence is to be found in the two authors' attitude 
        towards documentation and poetic license. Paradoxically, Marlowe, inspired 
        by the life story and adventures of a real three-dimensional person (Nasi), 
        stretched reality and converted his Jew into a larger-than-life megalomaniac 
        extrovert. Shakespeare, whose main sources were literary (and thus two-dimensional) 
        is the one who, as a faithful trainer, refined the caricature, took away 
        both its inhuman monstrosities and its colorful spectrum, in order to 
        present an introverted gray person. Nasi, Marlowe's main inspiration, 
        was a Marano Jew who fled the Catholic Iberian Peninsula and became a 
        senior advisor to the Turkish Sultan. Thanks to his brilliance, the Ottoman 
        Empire conquered a number of islands in the Mediterranean, and he himself 
        was knighted, and has been remembered as a Jewish hero. Though hardly 
        any Jews had lived in England since the thirteenth century, Marlowe may 
        have had a good chance to meet authentic, proud Jews in person. Having 
        been employed as a spy in Her Majesty's secret service, the playwright 
        wrote JM shortly after his return from a long stay in Holland, where, 
        in those very years, a liberated, autonomous congregation of Jews (fleeing 
        from the tortures of the Iberian Inquisition) was beginning to flourish.(21) 
        True, Shakespeare probably shared a single real-life source of inspiration 
        with Marlowe: Rodrigo Lopez, the Queen's physician. But while this information 
        about the celebrated Jewish doctor was significant for Marlowe in 1592, 
        by the time Shakespeare was to compose his own Jewish play, the course 
        of Lopez' fortune had veered: he was tried for treason (an attempt to 
        poison the Queen) and was sentenced to death. Stephen Greenblatt, in his 
        article "Shakespeare's Leap," interprets the Londoners' reaction 
        to Lopez's execution as "a last act of a comedy": "These 
        laughing spectators, in other words, thought they were watching a real-life 
        version of The Jew of Malta."(22) One should not disregard 
        the sharp turn in Lopez's reputation (after JM and prior to MV) as a factor 
        in the playwrights' attitude to "the Jews." The same person 
        was at first looked-up to, and then looked-down on. Here we may find the 
        most vivid real-life equivalent to the fall of "the Jew," as 
        it is portrayed respectively in both plays.
  Opposite axes. The focal points or courses of action in 
        the plays are strikingly different. Barabas, the megalomaniac, keeps expanding 
        and growing (to monstrous sizes), from a wealthy [p. 
        167] merchant (who even manages to multiply his wealth despite 
        it being confiscated) to a murderer, a serial killer, a warrior and a 
        sovereign doomed to crash tragically. The tamed Shylock not only loses, 
        gradually, one property after another (daughter, ducats, dignity, his 
        dead wife's ring, his revenge, his Jewish identity), but he, at the same 
        time, is narrowing his focus more and more until his entire being is dedicated 
        to one obsession: a single pound of flesh.
  Genres: From High to Low. The transition from tragedy to 
        comedy entails in itself a reduction. It is true that by relocating the 
        Jewish conflict from the realm of tragedy to that of comedy, the fatherly 
        author gains an instant pardon for his fictional Jew: since death is rarely 
        an option on the comic stage, Shylock is neither able to shed Antonio's 
        blood, nor is his own life in mortal danger. But then, the scope of tragedy 
        is traditionally considered superior to that of comedy, from Aristotle's 
        Poetics on. Or as Northrop Frye defines it, tragedy is "the 
        high mimetic mode," whereas the comic/ironic mode is inferior and 
        "low."(23) Hence, another dent in Shylock's status.
  The Jews' "Fathers." In line with Jeffrey Masten's 
        treatment of the renaissance author as a source of authorship and a literary 
        father figure in Textual Intercourse,(24) it may be interesting 
        to compare (now and below) a few aspects in the two playwrights' affection 
        for their stage Jews, the wild and the tamed. True, Marlowe thrusts Barabas 
        into the pit and a tormented death, whereas Shakespeare saves Shylock's 
        life, but what can be said about the quality of stage-life the usurer 
        enjoys before and after his exit? Gross opens his comparison between the 
        two Jewish characters with the striking verbal similarity in the two fathers' 
        outcries: "O girl, O gold, O beauty, O my Bliss!" (JM II:1) 
        "My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!" (MV II:8).(25) But 
        what a difference: whereas Barabas' line is an expression of glee when 
        his daughter retrieves his hidden treasure, Shylock's is a lamentation 
        over his daughter's betrayal (on the Jews as fathers, see below). "My 
        daughter! O my ducats!" is one of Shylock's two most memorable lines 
        in MV, while "O girl, O gold" is not considered one of Barabas' 
        most quoted speeches. Harry Levin, in one of the appendices to The 
        Overreacher: A Study of Christopher Marlowe, provides statistics on 
        [p. 168] the percentage of lines given 
        to protagonists in Marlowe's plays. Barabas was endowed with a record 
        number of lines, that take up 49 percent of the total lines in JM (exceeding 
        even Doctor Faustus' 47%), compared to Hamlet's less than 38% of the total 
        lines in the Shakespearian revenge tragedy.(26) Shylock is not only inferior 
        in the quantity of his lines, but most strikingly in their quality. The 
        daughter/ducats speech, attributed to Shylock in our collective memory, 
        is actually delivered by a minor character, Solanio (who, with his stage 
        twin, Salerio, functions as one half of a two-dimensional caricature-duo), 
        who quotes Shylock. The Jew's most dramatic speech is indeed delivered 
        by Shylock himself:
  
        Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, 
          dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt 
          with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same 
          means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian 
          is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? (MV III:1) However, it is noteworthy that most of 
        Shylock's lines (unlike those of Barabas), including the potent "Hath 
        not a Jew eyes?" are written in prose, and this is not to be attributed 
        to Shakespeare's recklessness or lack of creativity. Shakespeare is significantly 
        thrifty with regard to the attributes he bestows on his creature: Shylock 
        does not open the play, is not given any momentous poetry, and makes a 
        hasty exit before the end of Act IV, to be succeeded by an entire act 
        of love and romance, celebrated by the other characters. Barabas, like 
        Marlowe's other protagonists (Faustus and Tamburlaine in particular, also 
        Edward II), is a doomed tragic hero who not only defies his own fate, 
        but also the laws of nature. Whereas according to the Shakespearean canon, 
        Shylock resembles, if you will, Malvolio of Twelfth Night. Both 
        are dark-gray characters who do not fit the colorful world of romance 
        that surrounds them, are cruelly punished (in the plot) once they try 
        to cross their boundaries, and make an ugly insignificant exit before 
        the beginning of the other characters' festivities, without any salvation 
        (an even crueler punishment in terms of theatricality). So ungrateful 
        is Shylock's exit, that Edwin Booth, one of the celebrated nineteenth 
        century Shylocks, in his attempt to elevate or upgrade the Jew's character 
        from a minor comic to a tragic hero, "generally dispensed entirely 
        with Act Five," and billed the play "Shylock" as a way 
        of retrieving the lost tragic values deprived from the character by its 
        author.(27) In a similar manner, Michael Radford, in his 2004 film adaptation 
        of [p. 169] MV, complemented the dearth 
        of Shylock's presence by a number of additional silent scenes or shots,(28) 
        reinforcing the Jew's presence.(29) Such is the opening scene on the Rialto, 
        in which Shylock (Al Pacino) is introduced as Antonio (Jeremy Irons) spits 
        in his face; Shylock is later shown in a rainy night shot, as he is mumbling 
        "My daughter! O my ducats!" while the speech is delivered by 
        Solanio's voiceover; the fifth act in the film -- if not cut altogether 
        as in Booth's adaptation -- is drastically shortened, and is wrapped up 
        with yet another silent shot on Shylock the convert, locked out of the 
        Jewish as well as the Christian worlds. Thus Shylock is endowed with the 
        entrance, exit and monologue of which Shakespeare deprived him. |