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Lear utters these
words as he emerges from prison carrying Cordelia’s body in his arms (Act V,
Scene iii, L256–260). His howl of despair returns us again to the theme of
justice, as he suggests that “heaven’s vault should crack” at his daughter’s
death—but it does not, and no answers are offered to explain Cordelia’s
unnecessary end. It is this final twist of the knife that makes King Lear
such a powerful, unbearable play. We have seen Cordelia and Lear reunited in
Act IV, and, at this point, all of the play’s villains have been killed off,
leaving the audience to anticipate a happy ending. Instead, we have a corpse
and a howling, ready-for-death old man. Indeed, the tension between Lear as
a powerful figure and Lear as an animalistic madman explodes to the surface
in Lear’s “Howl, howl, howl, howl,” a spoken rather than sounded
vocalization of his primal instinct.
King Lear is a brutal play, filled with human
cruelty. The play’s terrible events raises an obvious question for the
characters—whether there is any possibility of justice in the world, or
whether the world is indifferent or even hostile to humankind. Various
characters offer their opinions: “As flies to wanton boys are we to the
gods; / They kill us for their sport,” Gloucester thinks, realizing it
foolish for humankind to consider that the natural world works with notions
of justice (Act IV, Scene I, L37–38). Edgar, on the other hand, insists that
“the gods are just”, believing that individuals get what they should have
(Act V, Scene iii, L169). But, in the end, we are left with only a
terrifying uncertainty—although the evil people die, the good die with them,
reaching the top in the awful image of Lear holding Cordelia's body in his
arms. There is goodness in the world of the play, but there is also madness
and death, and it is difficult to tell which triumphs in the end.
King Lear is also about political authority as
much as it is about family authority. Lear is not only a father but also a
king, and when he gives away his authority to the unworthy and evil Goneril
and Regan, he makes both himself and his family and all of Britain into
chaos and cruelty. As the two bad sisters desire more power and Edmund
begins to increase his own power, the kingdom is driven into civil struggle,
and we realize that Lear has destroyed not only his own authority but all
authority in Britain. Seeing by his own eyes the powerful forces of the
natural world, Lear comes to understand that he, like the rest of humankind,
is insignificant in the world. This realization proves much more important
than the realization of his loss of political control.
The structural elements of comedy are also present in the
plays, quite apart from the satiric humour of the Fool. The opening scene is
taken as being comedic, for Lear’s stage-management of his abdication breaks
on Cordelia’s resistance, leaving his plan in chaos. It is the pride and
pomposity, the subversion of Lear’s assumptions, which provides the
possibility of humour, although Lear’s reaction to this setback is
authentically frightening.
Traditionally, the conflict of Act I is seen as a dispute
between truth and falsehood. However, the critic, Katherine McLuskie looks
it as an ideological clash between a contractual and a patriarchal notion of
authority in the family. This is well observed, but does not entirely prove
Cordelia’s behavior. Her behavior involves the idea of “chastity” in its
broadest Elizabethan sense. Shakespeare’s stress on female chastity becomes
increasingly marked in the late plays.
Though characterization does not reach the profoundest level
as in other three tragedies, characters still reveal their distinct and
fascinating features.
Lear’s basic flaw at the beginning of the play is that he
values appearances above reality. He wants to be treated as a king and to
enjoy the title, but he doesn’t want to fulfill a king’s obligations of
governing for the good of his subjects. Similarly, his test of his daughters
demonstrates that he values a flattering public display of love over real
love. He doesn’t ask “which of you doth love us most,” but rather, “which of
you shall we say doth love us most?” (Act I, Scene i, L49). Most readers
conclude that Lear is simply blind to the truth, but Cordelia is already his
favorite daughter at the beginning of the play, so presumably he knows that
she loves him the most. Nevertheless, Lear values Goneril and Regan’s
fawning over Cordelia’s sincere sense of filial duty
An important question to ask is whether Lear develops as a
character—whether he learns from his mistakes and becomes a better and more
insightful human being. In some ways the answer is no: he doesn’t completely
recover his sanity and emerge as a better king. But his values do change
over the course of the play. As he realizes his weakness and insignificance
in comparison to the awesome forces of the natural world, he becomes a
humble and caring individual. He comes to cherish Cordelia above everything
else and to place his own love for Cordelia above every other consideration,
to the point that he would rather live in prison with her than rule as a
king again

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