King Lear: A Play for Our Times
King Lear is one of Shakespeare’s most powerful and widely performed plays.
The characters are intensely complex, and it weaves together a plethora of different themes.
At its heart is Lear himself.
Bullishly self-assured in the opening scene, he becomes increasingly volatile and vindictive, before descending into a storm of confusion and despair.
Lear’s madness is triggered by a seemingly innocuous comment.
Announcing his decision to relinquish his kingdom to his three daughters, he asks each of them to express their love for him.
The two eldest, Goneril and Regan, formulate adequately sycophantic replies, but Cordelia’s is more measured and honest:
Lear’s response is ruthless. He strips Cordelia of her inheritance, and offers the whole kingdom to her sisters.
This moment of reckless pride triggers a series of disastrous events.
Despite the absence of a dowry, Cordelia is married off to the King of France; Lear’s most loyal attendant, the Earl of Kent, is sent into exile; Goneril and Regan strip their father of the hundred knights he requested; and he ends up staggering off, at night, into a violent storm accompanied by his elderly Fool.
As if to amplify the drama, an equally intense subplot plays out alongside these events.
The Earl of Gloucester’s illegitimate son, Edmund, maliciously turns his father and half-brother, Edgar, against each other; and soon convinces Goneril and Regan that his father is a traitor - that he has sided with the King of France.
Enraged by this news, Regan and her husband, the Duke of Cornwall, gouge out Gloucester’s eyes.
Later, Edgar (disguised as the madman Poor Tom) and his blind father are reunited; but not before Edmund has begun to seduce both Goneril and Regan.
Whilst all this is playing out, Cordelia arrives on the coast with a French army. She is reunited with her father, but they’re soon taken hostage.
Everything now descends into chaos.
Goneril poisons Regan and later kills herself. Edmund admits that he has arranged for Cordelia to be murdered, but his confession comes too late, and, having enjoyed a brief phase of clarity/sanity, Lear dies broken-hearted.
What are we to make of all this?
On one level, King Lear is about the implosion of a family unit.
It’s also a brilliant portrayal of an ageing patriarch, and of the tensions playing out in patriarchal societies.
Although never explicitly stated, the cast of traumatised characters also hint at a dark backstory - which is why modern productions often portray Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia as victims of sexual abuse.
And the character Edmund teaches us about the resentment and rage that can fester within individuals who are marginalised by their families or society at large.
But what fascinates me most about King Lear is the way it plays with our notions of blindness and madness.
The director Jonathan Miller summed this up brilliantly when he described Lear as ‘a foolish old king shadowed by a wise old fool’.
And, at one point, Poor Tom (Edgar) says to his father: ‘Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind’.
Statements like this conjure up disorientating visions of a world/reality that has been turned on its head.
Having been blinded, Gloucester sees the truth. Through his madness, Lear is redeemed and reborn.
However disorientating, the array of themes that King Lear wrestles with are so poignant just now.
It’s an ancient story that’s acutely relevant to our times.
James Lee © 2024
There are dozens of books about King Lear, but one of my favourites is Performing King Lear: Gielgud to Russell Beale by Jonathan Croall.
Richard Eyre’s film King Lear (2018) is extraordinarily powerful. With its stunning cinematography and star-studded cast (including Anthony Hopkins as Lear, Emma Thompson as Goneril, Emily Watson as Regan, Florence Pugh as Cordelia, Jim Broadbent as Gloucester, and Andrew Scott as Edgar), it’s an absolute must for Shakespeare lovers. If you’re based in the UK, it’s currently available on BBC iPlayer. It’s also on Amazon Prime.
I watched the movie with Anthony Hopkins a few years ago. Great film. Your analysis of the play has reopened my interest in the story. Thank you for sharing, James!
Love the play, its words still come to me after studying it for A Level many moons ago. I saw the Branagh version in London late last year -- it was a magnificent, savage production. I think you are right, James, to highlight the layered text and the continual relevance to the human condition. The corruption of power, the vanity of an old man who gives away his kingdom on a whim, believing his daughters will safeguard him. One who denounces his favourite child because she tells the truth and refuses to flatter him. So much to learn from the play -- not least the masterly dovetailing of a subplot, featuring another conniving child hungry for power (Edmund) and his smooth manipulation of his gullible father. There is no greater fool than an old fool, the saying goes. Now, can anyone tell me, did Shakespeare come up with this gem?