Shakespeare’s “Othello” reframes the classic tragedy—and in conjunction, the tragic hero—in a new, unorthodox light.
“Othello” is many things. It’s a morality play: Desdemona personifies good, Iago evil, and Othello is the ‘everyman’ of the story. It’s the tragic tale of a classical hero: Othello falls victim to his irrationality and emotion, and dies regretfully. It’s predictable, really: Othello’s emotional nature is manipulated through some cleverly dropped words by Iago, and his rationale is completely overridden by angry grief. He spirals into the waiting hands of Iago, and it is there that he meets his downfall.
But Othello, though he is the titular character, does not seem to be the focus of the narrative. Instead, Iago is the first character we meet, and this is a hint to how big his role truly is. He is the one behind all of the machinations that bring about Othello’s downfall, and the only one working to bring it about. It’s strange if the main character gets all (or most of) the soliloquies in a play—much more so if the primary antagonist does. Shakespeare seems to be suggesting that Iago, rather than Othello, is the main character.
Iago is the embodiment of the “appearance versus reality” trope: he fools everybody around him with his words and behavior, dropping personas as easily as a snake sheds its skin. Not only does he manage to alter perceptions of himself, he manages to do so for other characters as well: he convinces Othello of Cassio’s deviance, Roderigo of Othello’s inadequacy (and his own superiority), twists and twists people around until they are wrapped around his finger. He is so wholly evil with seemingly no good motivation, so much so that he seems almost like a caricature. He is Shakespeare’s most diabolical villain, by any and every measure. Iago detests all that is good, like Satan. He exhibits a sort of self-hatred or perhaps an envy of goodness, actively deceiving many. He is Satanic imagery personified, and makes the play interesting.
As always with Shakespeare, the play has many overlapping themes. The one I found most intriguing, though, was the commentary on humanity—specifically with Othello. The first time that Othello is introduced to us, he is presented as a noble, dignified general despite common belief. He is attributed with goodness and humility, despite the color of his skin. As the play progresses, however, his rage blinds him and makes him into a bull with horns for Iago to lead him by. He is driven to madness by Iago’s machinations, and the savagery that results from it proves the Venetian court’s worst suspicions: Othello was “revealed” to be the wild, animalistic man they had expected from the very start..
I also loved the way the theme of trust was woven in throughout the play. Trust is one of Othello’s greatest virtues, and Iago uses it as an Achilles heel. He, knowing full well the extent of the trust Othello has in him, pierces Othello right in the center of it. He uses his reputation as an honest man to backstab literally everybody without being discovered—until the very end. Othello’s trust in Iago outweighs his trust in Desdemona’s love and fidelity, and this proves to be the unhappy ending of the pair.
All in all, “Othello” was an enjoyable read. I had half expected to either dislike it or not comprehend anything about it, but to my surprise, I read it easily and liked it. I have to admit, however, that I didn’t feel much for the characters. I pitied the cast (save for Roderigo and Iago, at times) but there was nothing more behind that. Othello didn’t leave much of an impression on me—though perhaps there is a reason for it. “Othello” may have been a different take on the classic tragic hero, but it hasn’t left much of an impact on me. I enjoyed it, though, and perhaps that is all that one needs from literature.