There is a quote in Hamlet that captures quite succinctly the fundamental incertitude that characterizes the human condition—
“[w]e know what we are, but know not what we may be”
Ophelia’s utterance touches on the processes of change that characterizes all of our lives. Change is inherently disruptive and unsettles the fantasy of an inert life or a stable identity— in the chaotic flux of life nothing is certain. Is there not in Ophelia’s statement, then, a compelling proof for determinism? Are these processes of change not wholly external to us, determined by an indifferent natural world? Or is Man the sovereign and sole subject of history, forging his own destiny in spite of this supposed indifference? It is by asking these questions that we may begin to distinguish between human nature and the natural world (purportedly the organic backdrop of human activity). The recurring theme of the natural holds great significance in the play, not only because of the existential themes it evokes, but because of the questions it asks of the reader. It carefully shapes our approach to King Lear and how we understand it. King Lear is committed to displaying the dichotomy between the natural, external world and human nature, or, one’s inner life, is established. Edmund’s spiritual development serves as the basis for Shakespeare’s conceptualization of human nature. He is a character that seems to constantly be at odds with himself— a fundamentally disjointed and displaced subject. Moments of intense passion are just as common as displays of spiritual aridity. The ambivalent and contradictory trajectory of Edmund’s actions in King Lear problematizes notions such as predeterminism, or a predestined fate. As such, my essay does not aim at a moral critique of Edmunds character, but a dialectical interpretation of his development.
Our first real impression of Edmund as a character leads us to believe that he is of evil nature. It seems that at the very beginning of the play, Edmund acknowledges his inalterable fate:
“Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law / My services are bound. Wherefore should I / Stand in the plague of custom and permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me” (1.2.1-5)
This soliloquy makes it clear that Edmund is interested primarily in upsetting the hierarchical social order of his time. His villainy thus seems apparent. Here also we can see a developing anti-naturalist motif in King Lear. Nature is often reified as an originary principle— appeals to it are made in order to legitimate class hierarchy or a historically specific social order. One speaks of social inequality, for example, in a way that denies its contingency; inequality is natural and consequently ineradicable. However, Edmund is determined to take the most radically unnatural course of actions in order to attain his goals. The social order is forced to confront its disavowed Other.
Edmunds displays a cunning Machiavellianism, manipulating his father and deceiving his brother Edgar. His character further descends into a wild baseness as he reports his fathers plans to help the maddened Lear to the Duke. In doing so he is knowingly condemning Gloucester. Edmund is then praised for his service by Cornwall, who himself meets a fate no better than Gloucesters shortly after; it is almost as if nature itself intervenes, punishing him for his sacrilege:
“Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; you we first seize upon” (2.1.115-116)
There is a satirical irony to the statement made by Cornwall. He references nature while Edmund’s service to him defies it — a son turns his back on his own father, leaving him at the hands of vultures. The betrayal of his father being most unnatural is further reinforced by Gloucester’s cruel and gruesome punishment. His eyes are mercilessly gouged out— the loss of a sensory organ was preceded by a moral blindness— the inability to discern Edmund’s treachery. Paradoxically, this violent act is actually restorative as it is only upon losing his physical eyesight that Gloucester is made aware of his error.
But perhaps the worst of Edmund’s sins were committed to those outside his immediate family, that is, the equally wicked sisters, Goneril and Regan. Edmund leads them both on, causing internal strife that eventually results in the death of both sisters. Furthermore, Edmund intentionally seduces Goneril despite her having a husband:
“O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman’s services are due; my fool usurps my body” (4.2.26-28)
Goneril’s infatuation with Edmund is readily apparent. While Albany may delight in and enjoy her physical body, Edmund holds her heart. Edmund desperately yearns for a person of high social standing to satisfy a fundamental lack in his being; he demands recognition, even if it is procured from an act of infidelity. His greed and lust for power seem to know no bounds.
However, upon greater scrutiny Edmund’s character seems to be good by nature. He displays this in many ways. The soliloquy that was earlier used to condemn Edmund can be interpreted in a different way. Edmund’s final statement is as follows:
“Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, / And my invention thrive, Edmund the base / Shall top the legitimate. I grow, I prosper. / Now, gods, stand up for bastards!” (1.2.19-22)
These short but revealing lines allow for a different reading of Edmund’s character, complicating the narrow view that he is wholly evil. Rather than being a malevolent character we start to understand him as a progressive revolutionary, protesting the unjust, and indeed, unnatural system of his time. This commitment to revolutionary action reveals a discursive discrepancy underlying the common-sense conception of Nature. The natural is equated with what are evidently man-made laws and codes. How can one appeal to Nature that exists to legitimize a given social order or subscribe to a fatalistic belief (“this is the way things are and will always will be”). Such an equivalence renders Nature a useful abstraction. Conversely, Edmund resists this idea of Nature and his actions actively subvert a world view that seeks to eliminate freedom. Hence, Edmund’s unnatural disposition can be considered a philosophical vengeance; a refusal to capitulate to the “way things are”.
Edmund’s character can also be considered good, though transgressive, it is established that the system which he transgresses against is oppressive. When one refers to Edmund as evil, one does so with reference to the social system which constitutes his time, a system that fixes definitions of “good” and “evil”. As such, deviating from these indexes does not make one ontologically evil, rather, these deviations must be seen as social or cultural transgressions. Moreover, if we consider Cordelia an ethical and upstanding character due to her unwavering principles (despite Lear’s harsh condemnations) then, Edmund too can be considered, due to his consistency of action. This is even subtly acknowledged towards the end of the play:
“Let’s exchange charity. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund. If more, the more thou’st wronged me” (5.3.191-194)
Despite all his harmful actions, Edgar recognizes Edmund as no better or worse than himself. There is once more an explicit similarity between Cordelia and Edmund, who are granted recognition only after having been wronged. Both too, meet their tragic demise. Given this relativism, we can say that Edmund’s character is neither good nor bad. He represents the spontaneity and unpredictability of human nature, which is contrasted with the necessary category of Nature that is present in the play— a category that he continually contests.
Edmund recognizes that everything has come full circle, so to speak:
“Thou hast spoken right. Tis true. The wheel is come full circle. I am here.” (5.3.119-200)
Nothing has changed since the beginning of the play despite his best efforts. However, Edmunds realizes that he was loved and recognized by the two most powerful women in the kingdom; he attains what he ultimately wanted the entire time:
“Yet Edmund was beloved” (5.3.276)
Edmund was never after power or riches; he simply wanted recognition. In the closing moments of the play, Edmund makes an attempt to spare Cordelia and Lear’s lives. This display of mercy, evidences a sudden change of nature, demonstrating his passage from a remorseless villain to a repentful man attempting to complete an act of good before he passes. However, it is also precisely this passage that undermines the very notion of “good” and “evil”, as I have discussed above. If Edmund was ontologically evil, he would be incapable of good will. This sudden change in temperament does not actualize because Edmund is suddenly aware that he must do good in the world, but is rather indicative of the inadequacy of these normative categories to describe Edmund’s development in the first place.
To use such limiting terminology as “good” and “evil” is theoretically reductive. That is why in my essay, I had opted for a dialectical interpretation of Edmund’s development. Through Edmund’s character we come to recognize that what is at stake in the struggle for recognition is freedom itself. Gravity will always hold us down, trees will grow and fall; but human nature is not damned by such stringent guidelines, as morals ebb and flow.