Stephen Greenblatt on The Merchant of Venice
[excerpted from "Marlowe, Marx, and Anti-Semitism" Leaning to Curse Routledge 1990, pg.55-57]
The Merchant of Venice is built around a series of decisive structural conflicts--Old Law vs. New Law, Justice vs. Mercy, Revenge vs. Love, Calculation vs. Recklessness, Thrift vs. Prodigality--all of which are focused upon the central dramatic conflict of Jew and Gentile or, more precisely, of Jewish fiscalism and Gentile mercantilism. The great economic utility of Shylock--and of the Jew in thsi period--is his possession of liquid assets, assets which he is committed, for his very existence, to employ actively. In general, in the northern Italian city-states, when the Christian merchants were weaker, the Jewish moneylenders were stronger; in Venice [..] there was a vigorous attempt by the merchant class to undermine the power of Jewish moneylenders through the establishment of the Monte di Carita, Christian lending institutions that would disrupt the Jews' "bargains" by providing interest-free loans. All of this seems to be reflected in the hatred Shylock and Antonio have for each other, hatred Antonio attributes to the fact that he has "oft deliver'd from his forfeitures/ Many that have at times made moan to me" (3.3.22-23).
If Shylock is set against Antonio on grounds of fiscalism vs. mercantilism, he is set against Portia on grounds equally based upon the economic position of Jews in early modern Europe. [...] The constant application of capital, to which the Jews were committed, precluded investment in immovable property. The law did not permit the Jew to acquire land, and the Jew, for his part, did not attempt to secure such permission [...].
In Shakespeare's play this economic nexus is suggested above all by Shylock's usury, but it is also symbolized by his nonparticipation in Venetian society, his cold, empty house, and such subtle indicators of value as his hostility to masquing--"the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife" (2.5.30). All of this is in sharp contrast to Portia, who has plenty of liquid assets; she can offer at a moment's notice enough gold to pay Antonio's 3000-ducat debt "twenty times over" (3.2.306). But her special values in the play are bound up with her house at Belmont and all it represents: its starlit garden, enchanting music, hospitality, social prestige. That is, the economic nexus linking Portia with her environment is precisely not instrumental; her world is not a field in which she operates for profit, but a living web of noble values and moral orderliness.
Shylock is the antithesis of this world, as he is of the Christian mercantilism of Venice. He is the "alien," the "stranger cur," "a kind of devil," in short, the "faithless Jew." Even the language he shares with the Christian Venetians does not provide a bridge between them; he may use the same words, but he uses them in a wholly different sense:
Shylock: Antionio is a good man.
Bassanio: Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
Shylock: Ho no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand
that he is sufficient. (1.3.10-15)
Shylock needs to explain his use of the apparently innocuous "good man," as he will later be pressed to explain why he insists, against all reason and self-interest, upon his bond: linguistically, psychologically, ethically, as well as religiously, he is different. To be sure, he appeals at moments to his sameness--"Hath not a Jew eyes?"--and this sameness runs like a dark current through the play, intimating secret bonds that no one, not even the audience, can fully acknowledge. For is Shakespeare subtly suggests obscure links between Jew and Gentile, he compels the audience to transform its disturbing perception of sameness into a reassuring perception of difference. Indeed the Jew seems to embody the abstract principle of difference itself, the principle to which he appeals when the Duke demands an explanation for his malice:
Some men there are love not a gaping pig!
Some that are mad if they behold a cat!
And others when the bagpipe sings i'th'nose,
Cannot contain their urine... (4.1.46-49)
The examples would be whimsical--evoking a motive no grander than allegory--where they not spoken by Shylock, knife in hand; instead, they bespeak impulses utterly inacessible to reason and persuasion; they embody what the rational mind, intent upon establishing an absolute category of difference, terms madness.
The Merchant of Venice is built around a series of decisive structural conflicts--Old Law vs. New Law, Justice vs. Mercy, Revenge vs. Love, Calculation vs. Recklessness, Thrift vs. Prodigality--all of which are focused upon the central dramatic conflict of Jew and Gentile or, more precisely, of Jewish fiscalism and Gentile mercantilism. The great economic utility of Shylock--and of the Jew in thsi period--is his possession of liquid assets, assets which he is committed, for his very existence, to employ actively. In general, in the northern Italian city-states, when the Christian merchants were weaker, the Jewish moneylenders were stronger; in Venice [..] there was a vigorous attempt by the merchant class to undermine the power of Jewish moneylenders through the establishment of the Monte di Carita, Christian lending institutions that would disrupt the Jews' "bargains" by providing interest-free loans. All of this seems to be reflected in the hatred Shylock and Antonio have for each other, hatred Antonio attributes to the fact that he has "oft deliver'd from his forfeitures/ Many that have at times made moan to me" (3.3.22-23).
If Shylock is set against Antonio on grounds of fiscalism vs. mercantilism, he is set against Portia on grounds equally based upon the economic position of Jews in early modern Europe. [...] The constant application of capital, to which the Jews were committed, precluded investment in immovable property. The law did not permit the Jew to acquire land, and the Jew, for his part, did not attempt to secure such permission [...].
In Shakespeare's play this economic nexus is suggested above all by Shylock's usury, but it is also symbolized by his nonparticipation in Venetian society, his cold, empty house, and such subtle indicators of value as his hostility to masquing--"the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife" (2.5.30). All of this is in sharp contrast to Portia, who has plenty of liquid assets; she can offer at a moment's notice enough gold to pay Antonio's 3000-ducat debt "twenty times over" (3.2.306). But her special values in the play are bound up with her house at Belmont and all it represents: its starlit garden, enchanting music, hospitality, social prestige. That is, the economic nexus linking Portia with her environment is precisely not instrumental; her world is not a field in which she operates for profit, but a living web of noble values and moral orderliness.
Shylock is the antithesis of this world, as he is of the Christian mercantilism of Venice. He is the "alien," the "stranger cur," "a kind of devil," in short, the "faithless Jew." Even the language he shares with the Christian Venetians does not provide a bridge between them; he may use the same words, but he uses them in a wholly different sense:
Shylock: Antionio is a good man.
Bassanio: Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
Shylock: Ho no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand
that he is sufficient. (1.3.10-15)
Shylock needs to explain his use of the apparently innocuous "good man," as he will later be pressed to explain why he insists, against all reason and self-interest, upon his bond: linguistically, psychologically, ethically, as well as religiously, he is different. To be sure, he appeals at moments to his sameness--"Hath not a Jew eyes?"--and this sameness runs like a dark current through the play, intimating secret bonds that no one, not even the audience, can fully acknowledge. For is Shakespeare subtly suggests obscure links between Jew and Gentile, he compels the audience to transform its disturbing perception of sameness into a reassuring perception of difference. Indeed the Jew seems to embody the abstract principle of difference itself, the principle to which he appeals when the Duke demands an explanation for his malice:
Some men there are love not a gaping pig!
Some that are mad if they behold a cat!
And others when the bagpipe sings i'th'nose,
Cannot contain their urine... (4.1.46-49)
The examples would be whimsical--evoking a motive no grander than allegory--where they not spoken by Shylock, knife in hand; instead, they bespeak impulses utterly inacessible to reason and persuasion; they embody what the rational mind, intent upon establishing an absolute category of difference, terms madness.
posted by John Garcia at
6:45 PM
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