1.
Recently, my wife and I attended a performance of Macbeth at
the Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, D.C.
The South African director stated, as I read in the program, that she, before “tackling a classic," had to find ways to make it relevant to a 21st
century audience. Her
attempt to update Shakespeare's Macbeth for a modern audience included, among other
things, re-imagining the three witches as two white men
and a white woman in contemporary dress
They were cast as members of the C.I.A.—Hecate, the queen of the
witches, directed them by cellphone
while speaking in a Russian accent, a rather obvious contemporary reference. The director emphasized the play's chaotic political situation, which reminded her of the effects
Western imperialism had on her country.
This version of Macbeth didn’t work for me. Shakespeare is widely acknowledged as the greatest poet in the
English language; I think that his foremost achievement, however, was the creation of
characters that are truly remarkable for their vividness and psychological
complexity. Shakespeare’s best dramas are
studies in the complexity of human personality; the political background,
though important, is just that, the background, before which characters
reveal their inner nature and conflicts to the audience.
I am much more interested in which aspects of Macbeth’s
desires drove him to ruin, rather than in “the personal cost of political chaos or instability” which the director at the Shakespeare Theatre views as central to the play. To aid my
psychological analysis of Macbeth, I turn to concepts of that quintessential
religion of psychology, Buddhism.
2. Buddhist Terminology of Import for Our Interpretation
Our analysis is Buddhist in a very broad sense. We will make use of several Buddhist terms,
which are quite significant for the understanding of human nature.
The first concept, perhaps the most important of all, is
what Buddhists call dukkha. It is often
translated as “suffering,” but this is misleading. The basic concept is that of insufficiency,
namely that life isn't there to satisfy our desires, especially our inordinate
desires. Egotistical strivings eventually
end in disappointment, and, as in the case of Macbeth, often wreak havoc as one
attempts to fulfill them. One needs to gain insight and to transcend
egotism. Buddha called for the complete
elimination of striving, referred to as tanha.
This is as hard to achieve as always turning the other cheek. One may be unable to reach the summit; however, one can, with the help of a guide, come closer to it. In this
article, the elimination of inordinate desire, not all desire, is viewed as our best chance at self-transcendence and the
resultant happiness which follows, as surely as ripples trail from a boat traveling across a
lake.
The second concept is called the Three Poisons, three of the
main things responsible for a good deal of the suffering in the world. This destructive trinity is composed of greed,
hate, and delusion.
3. The Summary of Our Interpretation
Macbeth is a great warrior and a good man at the beginning of the play. He does, however, have a fatal flaw: he wants everything,
he wants immortality. He has an active
imagination, and fantasizes about becoming king and founding a dynasty—the
closest thing to immortality he can imagine.
Macbeth is therefore very much bothered by the fact that he has no heirs.
He resists realizing his ambition at first, since it would necessitate murder. Lady Macbeth convinces him to
kill Duncan. Once this is done, Macbeth
loses whatever peace of mind he has; one murder leads to another. The result of Macbeth’s inordinate desire is
his having become a murderous tyrant.
4. The Buddhist
Interpretation
Shakespeare begins the play with a masterly exposition; it reveals the greatness of Macbeth, before he is corrupted by evil. Macbeth has proved himself to be a fearless
hero in battle:
For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—
Disclaiming Fortune with his brandished steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valor’s minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave, (This is a reference to the
rebel, Macdonald)
Which ne’er shook hands nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th’ chops,
And fixed his head upon our battlements.
1.2 Lines
16-24
The horrible end of the rebel foreshadows the death of the future rebel, Macbeth, who will share the same fate at the end of the play. It reminds one of the medieval concept of The
Wheel of Fortune. However, in this case
it isn’t fate which is driving the wheel; the flaw in Macbeth’s character is
what leads him to ruin. The above speech
is related by a captain to King Duncan; the latter now greatly admires Macbeth, and intends to reward him for his bravery.
Thus, Macbeth’s impending betrayal is all the more heinous.
In the next scene, Macbeth and Banquo encounter the “weird sisters,” the three witches. They are like the Delphic
Oracle—they tell the truth, but tell it slant.
They inform Macbeth that he will soon be King. Macbeth is terrified:
Banquo: Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?
1.3 lines 52-53
Macbeth, in our interpretation, has been fantasizing
about becoming king for a long time. He
even imagines himself murdering Duncan.
His ambition has been relegated to the realm of daydreams; no one gets
hurt. Now he realizes that he will
become king, and recoils at having to murder his benefactor in order to achieve that goal. His basic nature, that of a good man, objects; Macbeth is full of terror as he realizes that he will have to
kill Duncan in reality, not merely in fantasy:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man
That function is smothered in surmise,
And nothing is but what is not.
1.4 lines
141-144
The witches also prophesy that Banquo, not Macbeth,
will be the father of many generations of kings. This rankles the childless Macbeth, as we
shall see.
Macbeth has reached an equilibrium by achieving his
inordinate desire in his imagination.
Now, however, imagination is on the verge of becoming reality, to be
achieved not by an imaginary murder but by a real one. He has been a good man, and
decides to keep it that way. He replies
to Lady Macbeth, who goads him to kill Duncan:
We will proceed no further in this business.
He hath honored me of late, and I have bought (won)
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Nor cast aside so soon.
2.1 lines 31-34
Lady Macbeth convinces him to murder by attacking his
manhood—Macbeth, a great worrier who has the fantasy of becoming an
immortal god, is acutely sensitive to
the cowardice implied by Lady Macbeth’s attack. He now admires her steely,
manly resolve. She has helped him
overcome what now appears to him to be a weakness.
He feels the joy that one feels when an inner conflict is resolved. His reply to her at this point is very important
to our interpretation:
Bring forth men-children only,
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males.
2.1 lines 72-74
He is delighted since the last hindrance to immortality
has been overcome—in his mind. He will
produce male heirs and found a dynasty after all. He will have no reason to be murderously jealous
of Banquo, who is already a father.
Greed, hate, delusion and dukkha are all illustrated here.
Macbeth apparently has had occasional hallucinations all
this life. Is this a seizure disorder or
an overactive imagination that occasionally “sees” what Macbeth is
thinking? Shakespeare informs us about this infirmity with two lines, spoken in defense of his odd behavior at the
banquet. Macbeth confesses, “I have a
strange infirmity” in attempt to reassure the guests. Lady Macbeth attempts to do the same by
saying, “My lord is oft like this…” These lines are easily
glossed over, but provide much insight into Macbeth’s character.
Before he kills Duncan, Macbeth has a hallucination, one of
several to come: he “sees” what he has hitherto only fantasized: the dagger
with which he will kill Duncan:
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? Or art thous but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
2.1 lines 32-41
A dagger of the mind—what a wonderfully profound
image! Macbeth is still in touch enough
with reality to doubt whether he actually sees the imagined dagger or not. Later, after his conscience uses this dagger
of the mind to wound him into madness, he will believe that Banquo’s ghost is
as real as the food on the banquet table. The good qualities of Macbeth, bravery and
loyalty, once betrayed by Macbeth’s deed, are transformed into
furies wielding the daggers of a guilty conscience. Once the murder is accomplished, Macbeth’s
first words are in reference to a more ominous hallucination:
Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep.
2.3 39-40
Now that Macbeth has given into his basest desires, he loses all restraint; one
murder follows another. His immortality
was secure as long as he merely daydreamed about it; now it is threatened by
reality. He has no heirs; Banquo has a
son. The witches have predicted that
Banquo’s son will eventually become a king. No
longer restrained by morality, Macbeth attempts to relieve his insecurity by
murdering Banquo. (He will indeed murder Banquo; the latter's son, however, will
escape). Planning Banquo’s murder,
Machbeth says the following:
He (Banquo) chid the sisters
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hailed him father to a line of kings.
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren scepter in my grip,
Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,
For Banquo’s issue have I (de)filed my mind,
For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered.
3.1 57-66
After the murder of Banquo comes the famous banquet
scene, the third act climax of the play.
Macbeth sees the ghost of Banquo sitting in his chair, and is
terrified. He is the only one who sees
it. This is the point when Macbeth’s
madness spills over from inner thoughts to behavior that is apparent to
all. He regains his composure, but much
damage is done.
Macbeth then makes the worst possible decision—he wants to
visit the three witches once more to get a clearer picture of what lies in
store for him. As before, they give some
encouragement, and follow it with devastating prophecy. Macbeth is delighted to learn that he has
nothing to fear until Burnam Woods approach and he is confronted
by one who was not of woman born—we all know how that turns out.
Macbeth insists that the weird sisters answer this question: “Shall
Banquo’s issue ever/Reign in this kingdom?”
The witches’ reply is just one more illustration of
Shakespeare’s supreme genius:
All Witches: Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows and depart.
(A show of eight
kings, and Banquo last; the eighth king with a glass (mirror) in his hand)
While observing this spectacle, the shattered Macbeth
says the following:
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo. Down!
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs! And thy heir,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former. –Filthy hags,
Why do you show me this?—A fourth! Start, eyes!
What, will the line stretch out to th’ crack of doom?
Another yet? A seventh! I’ll see no more.
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many more; and some I see
That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry.
Horrible sight!
Now, I see ’tis true,
For the blood-boltered Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.
4.1. lines 109-123
What a marvelous moment of theater as the royal apparitions proceed
across the stage! It also proves that our interpretation is correct:
Macbeth’s quest for immortality has been crushed. Banquo and his infinite heirs—
virtually infinite, for the eighth holds a mirror indicating that many more will follow. What Macbeth desires inordinately for himself will not come to pass; the immortality will be Banquo’s and not Macbeth’s. This is Macbeth's worst nightmare. A lesser author might have shown one or two
kings—Shakespeare gives us eight with indications of an endless progression. Macbeth wanted one thing, immortality,
anything less would be completely unsatisfactory. (The production I saw projected a few shadows
of future king onto the wall of the stage, no procession. This to me indicates a gross misunderstanding
of Shakespeare’s intentions.) Macbeth’s
ambitions have been reduced to ash; from this point on, he is in despair.
An important scene soon follows. Macduff, who will soon defeat Macbeth, had
fled to England. In the meanwhile, the
monster Macbeth has killed his wife and all his children. When Macduff is
informed of this, a poignant scene follows:
Macduff: My children too?
Ross: Wife, children, servants—
All that could be found.
Macduff: My wife killed too?
Ross: As I have said.
Be comforted.
Malcolm: Let’s make us med’cines of our great revenge
To cure this deadly grief.
Macduff: He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all?
Oh, hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
4:3 211-219
This scene, which depicts a father’s grief at the death of
his family, is quite moving. But as so
often in Shakespeare, it is more than that.
One character’s behavior is often used to illustrate a flaw in the
tragic hero. In Shakespeare’s
tragedies, the flaw of the principal character becomes all the more apparent when contrasted with the
behavior of others. Notice that Macduff,
when informed of his loss, mentions his children first. He is obviously a very loving father.
Macbeth, in contrast, has no interest in children, except for the fact that he imagines them as necessary to achieve his inordinate desire for immortality. Viewing children merely as a means to an end all but ensures one's failure as a father. Macduff apparently
loves his wife deeply as well. There is
very little love expressed between Lady Macbeth and Macbeth; they strive for
power to replace the hole in their lives due to lack of love.
When Macbeth discovers that Burnam Wood is indeed
approaching his castle, all hope is lost. When he is informed that
his wife is dead, he hardly reacts, since he already has lost everything. He then proceeds to say the following lines,
among the best in all of Shakespeare’s plays:
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
5.519-28
This is perhaps the best poem of despair in the English language.
Now that his ambitions have been destroyed, he
automatically resumes his old virtue of being a brave soldier. Although all is
lost, he doesn’t retreat, but faces death while fighting valiantly. Macduff kills him, takes his body offstage
and soon returns with his severed head.
The Wheel of Fortune has turned a full circle: Macbeth
had killed the traitor, Macdonald, as reported at the very beginning of the
play. This thrust Macbeth into good
fortune. But it didn’t last; the wheel
continued to turn and brought the same fate to Macbeth, who had become a
traitor as well.
One might view the Wheel of Fortune as fate, but for
Shakespeare the fate of his tragic heroes is not inevitable. Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies are personal
tragedies. In this case, the tragic hero
is destroyed by demanding something from life which life is unable to give. This, combined with the three Buddhist poisons
of greed, hate, and delusion, assure the downfall of a once great man. Emphasizing chaos from without—in the
production I saw the villain was none other than Western imperialism—doesn’t
work. The source of the chaos in this
play comes from the dagger in Macbeth’s mind.
The catharsis occurs as the audience realizes that inordinate desire
leads to ruin.
Both Shakespeare and Buddha concerned themselves first and foremost with the greatest mystery of the universe of which we are aware, namely, consciousness, the ineffable mystery of personality. Why do people do what they do? Shakespeare's tragedies are aesthetic illustrations of what happens when one is guided by delusion. What Shakespeare teaches is very similar to what Buddha taught. With their help, we can be inspired to examine our own motivations, our own delusions, and with their help discover ways to return to a happier path. The lesson is simple: in order to prevent personal tragedy, stop being selfish; accept your limitations, and, despite flaws, love, and be wise.
