Pieta in Lear, and Sons Sacrificed for Fathers in 1 Henry VI & Hamlet

Last week I posted about instances of "beg" and "poor" in 1 Henry VI, in light of references in Hamlet to the prince as begging or poor, and of the Lazarus allusion in that play. I mentioned how, in 4.5, John Talbot begs his father to flee, while he himself will stay behind and fight to his death.

This is a touching moment, as is the moment when the father later finds the dead body of the son. And as my blog often focuses upon biblical allusions, I should mention that this scene echoes two essential plot ideas from the Christian story of the gospels:

First, it echoes the idea that Jesus is the son who was sent and sacrificed for the salvation of humanity. The son has to die, and is obedient to the father to the end. (In fact, some Biblical scholars and theologians have noted that Pauline theology assumes that the human Jesus only becomes divine through his love/service and obedience to the father, to his death, rather than being divine from birth; Paul's letters and Mark's gospel do not mention a nativity, as do the later gospels of Matthew and Luke).

Second, it also echoes the Pieta, not only as depicted in famous Renaissance art, but also in John’s gospel, which claims that the mother of Jesus was present at the crucifixion. At the heart of the meaning of the universe is not only the idea of a father who sends a son to die on a mission of love and service to others, but that a mother also loses a child.

The sacrifice of sons as soldiers is often tied up with pro-war propaganda and Christian metaphors of the death of Jesus the son. Shakespeare taps into this motif in 1 Henry VI with John Talbot and his father, Lord Talbot.

He also taps into it in Hamlet, with the prince feeling obliged to be obedient to the father’s command to avenge his foul murder, although in a more complicated way; to some extent, Hamlet lets go of the memory of his father in exchange for a heavenly Providence on the sea voyage, and the memory of Yorick in the graveyard.

The theme also comes up at the end of King Lear, in the reverse-gender Pieta of Lear, the father, holding the corpse of the daughter.
[Image: Kevin Klein as Lear and Kristen Bush as Cordelia in Shakespeare's King Lear, via New York Times, 3-8, 2007. Cropped. Fair use.]

The Christian story was central to Elizabethan thinking and to Shakespeare, and the sacrifice of the child in love and obedience to the divine parent is at the heart of the gospels' story.

We often hear people say on occasions of the death of a son or daughter before their parents, that no parent should have to live through such sorrow and grief as to have to bury their own child. But the gospels make the remarkable claim that such a tragedy is at the heart of the meaning of the universe, and that the child of transcendent mystery (the child of God) is sacrificed out of love, for the sake of humanity and perhaps for all creation as well. Every day, trees and plants sent out their seeds into the world, and the parent plants often outlive the new plants that spring from the seed. There is something abundant, generous and self-sacrificing about creation, mysteriously so, transcendently so.

So it’s fitting that a number of Shakespeare’s works would tap into this dynamic.

This is not to say that John Talbot and Hamlet and Cordelia = Jesus. The differences are as important as the similarities. (A few decades ago, some scholars were very enthusiastic about Christ figures in Shakespeare, and others were quite bothered by too many Christ figures.)

The differences are quite significant. Even in the case of John and Lord Talbot, the son wants to create a name of honor for himself instead of being known as a coward, and elsewhere Shakespeare questions such ideas of honor.

And obedience to the parent, human or divine, may be overrated at times. Yet obedience to a transcendent, indwelling mystery can be related to or resemble an artist trusting the muses: "Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me" as D. Hh. Lawrence began one poem.

Obedience to Lear or the dead King Hamlet's ghost is a different matter. For King Hamlet, too much selfish vengeance is involved, and for Lear, too much ego.

So John Talbot's sacrifice may resemble that of Jesus, but John Talbot does not = Jesus.

The same with Hamlet and Cordelia, etc.

Thomas à Kempis' popular early 15th century book, "The Imitation of Christ," doesn't assume that one begins as Christ, but that one seeks to be transformed more in the image of Christ. And at best, some of Shakespeare's dynamic characters who seem to become Christ-figures may demonstrate something similar as their stories evolve. So in that sense, we might say that John Talbot, Hamlet, and Cordelia, in the course of the respective plays, become a bit more like Jesus, and perhaps even Lear becomes a bit more like Mary?
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Disclaimer: If and when I quote or paraphrase bible passages in many of my blog posts, I do not intend to promote any religion over another, nor am I attempting to promote religious belief in general; only to point out how the Bible may have influenced Shakespeare, his plays, and his age.
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Thanks for reading! My current project is a book tentatively titled Hamlet’s Bible, about biblical allusions and plot echoes in Hamlet.

Below is a link to a list of some of my top posts (“greatest hits”), including a description of my book project (last item on the list):

https://pauladrianfried.blogspot.com/2019/12/top-20-hamlet-bible-posts.html

I post every week, so please visit as often as you like and consider subscribing.


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