A Jewish usurer in Venice makes a deal with a Christian merchant: the Jew will loan the Christian three thousand ducats to help his love-struck friend. The Jew shockingly asks for no interest payment. However, if the loan is not repaid, the Jew may cut off a pound of the Christian’s flesh. Although the Christian is initially unable to repay, more than the amount of the loan is later offered to the Jew. The Jew refuses, claiming his right to the pound of Christian flesh. I propose to argue that this Jew, named Shylock, is a sympathetic character in William Shakespeare’s, The Merchant of Venice.
Murray Roston has reviewed the argument that Shylock is a sympathetic character, and finds it incorrect. In fact, Roston says, “Any attempt in a modern staging of the play to avoid anti-Semitic implications by presenting Shylock sympathetically is, however admirable in its intent, not only a violation of the text but also a misunderstanding of the play” (7). Roston concludes that Shylock is more similar to the devil and that Antonio, the Christian, is a Christ-figure. I, however, disagree. When viewed through the lens of the cultural context in which Shakespeare wrote, one can see by the appeal to Shylock’s shared humanity and the language used in the play that Shylock is indeed a sympathetic character.
In order to understand The Merchant of Venice and Shylock specifically, one must understand the context in which William Shakespeare wrote the play. Shakespeare wrote the play around 1596, but it was not publicly performed until 1605. During this time, there were not many Jews present in England. During the eleventh and twelfth centuries, Jews lived in England under the protection of the king. Although most were moneylenders, some Jews had professions such as doctors and goldsmiths. Throughout these centuries, however, hostility began to develop among the Christians.
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Christians viewed Jews as the killers of Christ, and began to spread rumors about blood libel. Many Christians wanted Jews gone. Hostility against Jews was so great that Parliament used Jewish banishment as a terms for negotiation. Edward I was steeped in war debt, but needed Parliament’s permission to raise a tax. Edward ended up negotiating with Parliament, who gave him a 116,000 pound tax in exchange for Jewish banishment. Thus, in 1290, the Edict of Expulsion was ordered (Why Were the Jews Expelled).
England was not the only place where Jews were disliked. Venice, the very setting of the play, also restricted Jewish residence. As the Jewish population in the city grew, hostility did as well. This increase in the number of Jews enraged natives so much that “on March 29th 1516 the Republic found it necessary to enact a decree to organize their presence” (Museo Ebraico di Venezia). In exchange for freedom of religion, the Jews were forced to live in a sector of the city known as the ‘geti,’ which was later transformed into the word ‘ghetto’ that is used today (Museo Ebraico di Venezia). Although it is possible that Shakespeare had little knowledge of what was going on in Venice, this is still helpful knowledge for contemporary audiences of the play.
Although Shakespeare was not the first playwright to bring a Jew onto center stage, the Jew was still a newer stage convention. The Three Ladies of London had recently come out in 1584, as had The Jew of Malta in 1591 (Lachman). During this time, Jews were regarded as the Other, the sore thumb that stuck out of European culture. Because of the Edict of Expulsion and many rumors and myths surrounding Jews, nobody really knew the truth about who a Jew was or how he lived. On stage, a Jew was categorized by greed, wealth, and the general love of money (Selwood). Because most of Shakespeare’s audience had never personally met a Jew, since Jews were not officially allowed back into England until 1650, all that people knew about Jews came from stories and the stage (Why Were Jews Expelled).
A stock Jewish character would simply be greedy. To some audience members, that may be how Shylock appears. However, Shakespeare begins to create a sympathetic Jew through many ways of emphasizing his humanity. Janel Adelman brings up an interesting point. In The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare actually allows us to go inside the Jew’s house (7). Being an unknown place, Shakespeare’s audiences could have been curious to see inside the house of an outcast and potentially disappointed to find that it may have been relatively normal. Regardless, Shakespeare automatically creates a deeper, more human Jewish character by allowing us into his living space.
Shakespeare also builds up the humanity of Shylock by his familial relations. A flat, stereotyped Jewish character would not require any family to give him background or meaning in a play. However, we are given the character of Jessica to help Shakespeare paint Shylock as a sympathetic character. Jessica and Shylock butt heads, and Jessica ends up running away and marrying a Christian. This is not the first time that a Shakespearean character has gone astray from the wishes of a parent, and this need not reflect on Shylock as a character. Juliet rebelled against family loyalties; Desdemona married Othello behind Brabantio’s back, and Hermia is determined not to marry Demetrius as her father wishes.
The aspect of this familial drama that truly shows Shylock’s humanity is his reaction to his daughter leaving in 3.1. All of Shylock’s lines before 3.1, save a few from 1.3, are written in blank verse. However, in 3.1, Shylock enters into an impassioned prose, showing more stream-of-consciousness sadness, anger, and betrayal. 3.1.50-69 are arguably the most famous lines in the whole play. Shylock begins by thrusting hate upon Antonio and ends by comparing Jews to Christians. The whole speech is fueled by Shylock’s despair over Jessica.
Although these lines are in prose, they are still made impactful by the literary devices that are used. Jonas Barish pulls out two parts in Shylock’s speech in lines 50-69 that exhibit Shylock’s ultimate despair from his daughter leaving. The first are his short and stressed phrases in lines 52-54. Shylock says, “[Antonio has] …laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies…” (3.1.52-54). Each of these lines is like a punch. The other literary device that Barish pulls out is the anaphora in lines 60-65 where Shylock repeats the word “if,” which follows the previous pattern of emphasis (Barish).
Shakespeare uses Shylock’s emotional prose to create sympathy for him. He is in sorrow because of his daughter leaving. Many may feel tempted to dismiss this sympathetic reading of Shylock in this scene because he is also angry about his ducats and precious items being stolen by Jessica. Some may believe that the only reason that he wants Jessica back is so that she returns his belongings. After all, the Jewish stage convention would paint him as a selfish, greedy man. However, Anita Gilman Sherman offers us a glimpse into the heart of Shylock based on a closer reading of the text. After Tubal informs Shylock that Jessica has sold his turquoise monkey ring, Shylock says, “…I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor; I would not have sold it for a wilderness of monkeys” (3.1.114-116).
On the surface, this may seem like a line from a materialistic man who wants his possessions back. However, Sherman offers this insight, “At this moment Shylock discovers that Jessica has never understood the sentimental value that he attached to that ring and, worse still, that he has evidently failed to communicate and instill in her any attachment to the past” (281). Shylock is devastated that his own daughter did not understand how much she would hurt her father by both running away and selling his sentimental things.
While on the surface he may look greedy, this is a feeling that any parent may have when they figure out that their child has thrown away, donated, or sold one of their precious heirlooms. This is a situation that audiences can empathize with while feeling sympathy for Shylock. Once you add running away on top of it, there can be no doubt that Shylock is heartbroken. His prose, which he uses almost nowhere else in the play, even when he is on trial against the man he hates most, shows us the true nature of his despair. This prose is a device that Shakespeare uses to emphasize the humanity of a man that many want to hate out of habit. An unsympathetic reading would diminish the power of this rare prose.
Not only does the structure and context of Shylock’s language in this scene emphasize his humanity, but so does the content of his speech. Arguably the most famous lines of The Merchant of Venice come from Shylock’s speech in 3.1.50-69. He is speaking to Salerio and Solanio, who are friends of Antonio’s and who helped Jessica to escape. The two men ask Shylock why he wants a pound of Antonio’s flesh. However, one must remember that these lines are part of the prose that he speaks in his desperate state after Jessica leaves. He answers the men,
He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies—and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? (3.1.51-63).
These words are a push-back to Christians that view him as no more than a dog and greedy usurer. Worse still, Shylock makes a new connection. Sherman explains, “Among the discoveries he must disown is his realization that [Jessica] sees him as Christians do, and even worse, that she has modeled herself upon Christian notions of him” (281). Shylock speaks these words both against the Christians and against his own flesh and blood. Shakespeare lays out all of the simple human things that Jews and Christians share, and I think that it would be difficult and naive to make the argument that we are not supposed to feel sympathy for Shylock.
Shylock’s words make it undeniable that Jews and Christians have a shared humanity, shared needs, shared wants, and shared physicality. Shakespeare’s career as a playwright was built upon influencing people’s hearts and minds. Although we cannot know for sure, it is a possibility that this speech was meant to be spoken not only to Solanio and Salerio, but also to those in the audience who held the anti-semitic values that were so common.
The power and sympathy that this scene of prose elicits is even more evident when one watches a performance of the play. I watched two versions of this play, one directed by John Sichel in 1973, and the other directed by Michael Radford in 2004. In both of these productions, Shylock is shown as a character who weeps. In Sichels’s version, Shylock has to strain his voice to even speak to Solanio and Salerio to accuse them of knowing of Jessica’s flight. In Radford’s version, we briefly see Shylock running about in the rain screaming for Jessica before 3.1 commences. The prose has made the director understand the hopelessness and sadness of Shylock, and he was able to emphasize it on the screen using a small take before the scene. Just a bit later in this same performance, Shylock’s speech in lines 50-69 draws a crowd. Women stand behind Solanio and Salerio, and other peer at Shylock from across a canal. The words that Shakespeare wrote demand attention, demand concern, and demand sympathy.
Shakespeare makes a compelling case for Shylock as a sympathetic character by emphasizing his humanity. In 4.1, however, he portrays Shylock as a sympathetic character by means of the language of Christians who diminish his humanity. To set the stage for 4.1, Shylock is in court with Antonio, Bassanio, Salerio, Solanio, and the duke, fighting for his pound of flesh. Although Antonio is not originally able to pay back the money he borrowed from Shylock, Bassanio eventually offers to pay back more than the original sum. Shylock, however, is undeterred, and wants to claim a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Portia later comes in, disguised as a doctor, and in a conniving and slightly round about way, solves the problem for Antonio. While all of this is happening, the Christian characters tear Shylock down in many ways through language.
The first dehumanization of Shylock comes through the way that the other characters address him. As they are going about the trial, the men consistently refer to Shylock as “Jew,” both to each other and to his face. In fact, they refer to Shylock as “Jew” 20 times during the trial scene. In all of 4.1, Shylock is referred to by his name 5 times. These men do not refer to each other as “Christian,” because it is understood, it is normal, and it is “right.” By calling Shylock “Jew,” these men are implying that Jews are the Other, they are different, they are less-than, and they are not worth calling by their name.
Three of the five times that Shylock is referred to by his name is by Portia, a woman. It is possible that Portia was kind enough to refer to Shylock by his name (although she also refers to him as “Jew”) because she somewhat understands what it is like to be seen as lesser. As a woman, even a rich woman, she is given less of a voice in the society she inhabits. In the play, her dead father is still deciding who she marries based on a guessing game. Portia understands, if even a little, Shylock’s exclusion from the main group.
The second way that the Christians tear Shylock down through language is by mimicry. When at first Portia explains that Shylock is legally entitled to his pound of flesh, he responds by saying, “A Daniel come to judgement! Yea, a Daniel! / O wise young judge…” (4.1.221-222), “O noble judge!” (4.1.244), “O wise and upright judge!” (4.1.248), “Most learned judge!” (4.1.302). While Shylock is excited to claim his bond, the Christians are biting their nails and preparing for Antonio to die. However, Portia soon explains that Shylock may only cut a pound of flesh if he sheds no blood. Realizing this impossibility, Gratiano takes Shylock’s words as his own. “O learned judge! Mark, Jew, a learned judge!” (4.1.314). “O Jew! An upright judge, a learned judge!” (4.1.321). “A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! / I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word” (4.1.338-339). Gratiano turns Shylock’s words against him in a cruel mockery, cementing it by giving an ironic thank you. This mockery continues to tear Shylock down in the midst of being called “Jew.”
This language-based destruction of Shylock is important in Shakespeare creating him to be a sympathetic character because of what happens next. Not only is the language cruel, but it gets to a point where it actually breaks Shylock. At the end of the trial scene, Antonio agrees to pardon Shylock on one condition: that he becomes a Christian. After the Duke declares that Shylock must abide by this or else lose all of his possessions, the dialogue goes as follows:
Portia: Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?
Shylock: I am content (4.1.400-401).
Shylock accepts his fate with three simple words. In the whole play, Shylock has not been a man of few words. In the trial scene alone he has two speeches that are at least 15 lines apiece. However, he has just been berated with mockery, and has been stripped of his dignity by being called “Jew.” There is not much more for him to say, and we can see how utterly broken he is when he only speaks three words. Once again, this is a human reaction to being bullied, mocked, and having what you loved taken. In the text, there is no stage direction for a pause between Portia’s line and Shylock’s line.
However, I believe it would be foolish to believe that Shylock accepts this new life without any moment of despair or anger. Shylock is being sent into a new religion, a religion full of people that he hates and that hate him. Shylock does not want to take this religion as his own, and even if he did, there is little hope that he would be accepted. Janel Adelman says, “[Jewish Christians] apparently carried the bodily residue of their Jewishness with them. Indelibly alien within Christianity, they were a kind of living contradiction within it, marking the place where theological and racial differences intersect: in what sense could these Jews be fully Christian?” (11). Even within the scope of Christianity, Shylock will still be the Other.
Considering this, I think that it is necessary and appropriate to give Shylock a moment between Portia’s line and his. He must become what he hates. He needs a moment to cry, a moment to wrestle with this. In fact, this is how Sichel portrays this moment in his film. Shylock leans heavily against a pole before falling to the ground. When he excuses himself, there is 23 seconds of moaning and wailing. By looking at the text and how it leads up to Shylock’s breaking point, I find it nearly impossible to deny Shylock as a sympathetic character.
When one first hears of a Jew swearing revenge by taking a pound of a Christian’s flesh, I doubt that a common gut reaction would be to have a sympathetic view of the Jew. However, in any sort of narrative that one reads, one must go deeper than the surface. After learning about the context of the time that this play was written, seeing the many ways in which Shakespeare builds up the humanity of Shylock, and examining the language used, I would like to turn the tables on Murray Roston and say that I think it is a misunderstanding of the play to maintain an unsympathetic view of Shylock. Digging deeper into narratives, both fictional and not, allows us to cultivate a sense of sympathy, and ultimately develop a deeper understanding of those that we learn about and interact with.
