Shakespeare's plays are usually studied by literary scholars and historians and the books about him from those perspectives are legion. It is most unusual for a trained philosopher to give us his insight, as Colin McGinn does here, into six of Shakespeare's greatest plays––A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, King Lear, and The Tempest. In his brilliant commentary, McGinn explores Shakespeare's philosophy of life and illustrates how he was influenced, for example, by the essays of Montaigne that were translated into English while Shakespeare was writing. In addition to chapters on the great plays, there are also essays on Shakespeare and gender and his plays from the aspects of psychology, ethics, and tragedy. As McGinn says about Shakespeare, "There is not a sentimental bone in his body. He has the curiosity of a scientist, the judgement of a philosopher, and the soul of a poet." McGinn relates the ideas in the plays to the later philosophers such as David Hume and the modern commentaries of critics such as Harold Bloom. The book is an exhilarating reading experience, especially at a time when a new audience has opened up for the greatest writer in English.
Colin McGinn is a British philosopher currently working at the University of Miami. McGinn has also held major teaching positions at Oxford University and Rutgers University. He is best known for his work in the philosophy of mind, though he has written on topics across the breadth of modern philosophy. Chief among his works intended for a general audience is the intellectual memoir The Making of a Philosopher: My Journey Through Twentieth-Century Philosophy (2002).
Colin McGinn was born in Blackpool, England in 1950. He enrolled in Manchester University to study psychology. However, by the time he received his degree in psychology from Manchester in 1971 (by writing a thesis focusing on the ideas of Noam Chomsky), he wanted to study philosophy as a postgraduate. By 1972, McGinn was admitted into Oxford University's B.Litt postgraduate programme, in hopes of eventually gaining entrance into Oxford's postgraduate B.Phil. programme.
McGinn quickly made the transition from psychology to philosophy during his first term at Oxford. After working zealously to make the transition, he was soon admitted into the B.Phil programme under the recommendation of his advisor, Michael R. Ayers. Shortly after entering the philosophy programme, he won the John Locke Prize in 1972. By 1974, McGinn received the B.Phil degree from Oxford, writing a thesis under the supervision of P.F. Strawson, which focused on the semantics of Donald Davidson.
In 1974, McGinn took his first philosophy position at University College London. In January 1980, he spent two semesters at University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) as a visiting professor. Then, shortly after declining a job at University of Southern California, he succeeded Gareth Evans as Wilde Reader at Oxford University. In 1988, shortly after a visiting term at City University of New York (CUNY), McGinn received a job offer from Rutgers University. He accepted the offer from Rutgers, joining ranks with, among others, Jerry Fodor in the philosophy department. McGinn stayed at Rutgers until 2006, when he accepted a job offer from University of Miami as full time professor.
Although McGinn has written dozens of articles in philosophical logic, metaphysics, and the philosophy of language, he is best known for his work in the philosophy of mind. In his 1989 article "Can We Solve the Mind-Body Problem?", McGinn speculates that the human mind is innately incapable of comprehending itself entirely, and that this incapacity spawns the puzzles of consciousness that have preoccupied Western philosophy since Descartes. Thus, McGinn's answer to the hard problem of consciousness is that humans cannot find the answer. This position has been nicknamed the "New Mysterianism". The Mysterious Flame: Conscious Minds in a Material World (2000) is a non-technical exposition of McGinn's theory.
Outside of philosophy, McGinn has written a novel entitled The Space Trap (1992). He was also featured prominently as an interviewee in Jonathon Miller's Brief History of Disbelief, a documentary miniseries about atheism's history. He discussed the philosophy of belief as well as his own beliefs as an atheist.
You know how you're supposed to highlight only important information, lest you have a page filled with bright yellow ink? Well, oops. My copy of this book has LOTS of yellow ink, because just about everything McGinn writes was both poignant, interesting, thought-provoking, and eye-opening. Discussing six of Shakespeare's plays including A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hamlet, and Othello, McGinn makes plenty of fantastic points.
Even after he discusses those six plays, he continues to discuss politics, gender, and romance. Not only that, of course, the philosophy of skepticism, knowing oneself, and knowing each other. He discusses Hume, Montaigne, Bloom. Combining such concepts and authors together creates a fresh outlook on Shakespeare, his works, and the understanding of human beings as we know it.
In fact, many like to argue that Shakespeare alone changed the course of how we write and discuss human beings. McGinn disagrees--certainly that understanding was present, but he was simply the first to do it. And regardless, the characterization, plot twists, miscommunication or lack thereof, tragedies, comedies, histories have all changed thanks to Shakespeare.
Overall, this was a fantastic look at Shakespeare from a fresh perspective that puts into conversation many well-known authors, critics, and philosophers. Certainly worth getting your hands on and reading!
*** Notes as of Jan 2014 ** Approaching Shakespeare’s work is a dangerous work. Even a cursory dip often confounds my implicit trust in a universal order or basic moral framework. To watch Othello is to feel the fragility of nobility and intelligence turns into a murderous act in the name of honor and honesty; to watch Lear is to question the parental demands for filial demonstration of love; and to watch Macbeth is to remember the resemblance of ambitious men and women puffed up by ego and enabled by spousal allegiance. Without a guide to approach this massive body of work is to be left either with unintelligible confusion or swallow a particular interpretation or adaption as the original intended work.
Shakespeare is unscalable, un-reducible, refused to be tamed by neat closures and rounded personalities. There are too many dark spots in the good people while too many shiny wit in the bad ones. We are charmed by Iago’s one-liners more than Othello’s straight talking. Macbeth has the best summary of human life when he is at his peak of ossified evil-doing. Shylock’s anger rings louder than Portia’s righteous ruling. What is the order of the world? What is justice? How to understand human nature, marbled both in civilized virtue and intelligent vices? Most importantly, how and where we are to look for such knowledge?
I need guides to take in even small doses of this jumble of work. Centered in this book, is the discussion of knowledge and skepticism applying to self, minds of others, causality, and universal order. Six plays are used as case studies: A midsummer night’s dream, Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, Lear, and Tempest. Four are unqualified bleakest tragedies, while the two comedies laden with much stings and venoms.
At the acme of these plays lies the a non-teleological view of causation. This means that there is no cosmic justice to explaining catastrophes or events. One damned thing after another. Rationality resides only in human minds in a limited degree, while nature has no rationality except for basic biological and mechanical principles. Why bad things happened to good people? Well, there is no “why”, just “did”. The implication of this lack of cosmic moral order is profoundly disturbing for conventional thoughts in the spiritual realm. Deaths of Orphelia, Desdemona, innocent bystanders, or not-that-deserving minor villains have made such points painfully evident.
The next issue is the myth of a constant “self” independent of situations. In a flash, Hamlet morphed from an intelligent thinker to a rash killer in Gertrude’s closet, while Titania falls in love to the ass-eared Nick Bottom. Most alarmingly and convincingly, we watch Macbeth from a hesitant and much goaded killer calcifying into a mass-murdering tyrant, while Othello spiraling down from a noble and intelligent general to a raging wife-killer.
Last, how much we can know others? Psychology talks about “theory of mind”, common coding theory, linguistic and gestural signaling to communicate our thoughts. Yet even with soliloquies and professed speeches, we don’t really know self and others. In the hands of deft manipulators such as Iago and Prospero, languages can drop hints leading a susceptible mind to deadly deeds, or creating storms and chaos. The opacity of our mind can not be overcome by words and actions; “common coding theory” does not encompass the willful self-delusions where good appears to be bad (desperately good Desdemona) and bad appears to be good (wit and adept Iago). The author suggest that the most serviceable way to think is that there is no single “self”. There is no unified self that is immutable to all situations. Instead, we act and perform, often entirely sincerely, for the situation.
Shakespeare left us in the world of “negative capacity”. A world without the comforts of having a unified self, having capacity for knowledge acquistion, and justice for bad deeds. I learned that the word to describe is “aporia”.
A few memorable quotes from various plays:
Macbeth — wooden even with the news of Lady Macbeth’s suicide, simply stated the most bleak and nihilistic view of human life:
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.
It is hard to be optimistic and confident after any of these tragedies. We are left with much less assurance of who we are, how to believe others, and deduce the works of cause and effect. Yet Shakespeare continues to fascinate me through different interpretations and adaptions, observed with a changing self, providing much markings for positive and negative capacity. I shall return to this book again in a year or so to revisit my thinking.
(Notes about what is a tragedy: Such tragedies are not caused by accidents (like a bridge broken by wind), but by the mismatch of the full-fledged character with the riped situation. Without Iago and his perfected skill in malicious villainy, Othello’s core of jealousy still exist with full potentiality. The author argues for the mismatch of character/situation as the root of such tragedies instead of just “a flaw in character” as classic theater theories proposed. Also, there are two character/situation mismatches: affective and cognitive, where Hamlet uniquely display the former mismatch. He knows what need to be done but he can’t seem to psyche hims up to do it. Othello and Lear are both fooled so there is the cognitive aspect. )
Readers who have both a familiarity with Shakespeare's major plays and an interest in philosophy will probably enjoy this short book. Following an introduction in which the author discusses general themes there are essays on six plays: The Tempest, King Lear, Macbeth, Othello, Hamlet, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, the last of which I am soon to see performed at Chicago Shakespeare Theater. Perhaps the book should be subtitled "Discovering the meaning behind some of the plays". The essays on specific plays are complemented by four essays on general topics such as gender, ethics, and psychology. McGinn has a lucid style that makes this book easy to comprehend. While the focus is primarily on the philosophical aspects of the plays the book also provides a useful commentary to provide background for anyone reading the plays. It is enhanced by useful notes and an index that allows referential reading. I have added it to my small library of Shakespearean commentary that stands beside the complete plays.
This is a truly delightful read for anyone with dual interests in Shakespeare and philosophy. (And really, how can you separate the two?) McGinn's essays on various plays and their philosophical underpinnings are thorough, insightful, and unhampered by the usual linguistic density of academic writing. His character portraits are occasionally too narrow but nevertheless as colorful and evocative as if they were intimate acquaintances of his. Every now and then he makes a trivial statement that may seem slightly off to a seasoned Shakespearean--but as McGinn states in the opening pages, he is not a Shakespearean. He is a philosopher. As such, his perspective is fresh and interesting, if from time to time imperfect.
Excellent. Pure, excellence. This book feels long, the content heavy, and probably best in small doses - but oh, so, so worth it for anyone interested in diving a bit deeper into Shakespeare.
~~ Here are some of my Kindle highlights:
General: "Shakespeare’s tragic figures are always coping with their ignorance—their inability to know what they need to."
"Personality is essentially a matter of how you interact with others—how you affect them, and how they affect you."
"What I conceive as my authentic self—the core of my character—is just the one I have been acting the longest or the one that best suits my acting talents."
Re: Othello "The play begins with Roderigo, Iago’s easy dupe, protesting, “Tush, never tell me!” This serves as a motto for the whole play, because Iago’s acts of telling are the main engine that drives the story: if nothing is told, then no deception is possible; and Iago is a master at deceptive telling. He is always telling people things that are not true, using language to manipulate and warp."
"It is helpful to set Iago beside Desdemona: while he is unnaturally evil and despicable, she is unnaturally good and lovable. If there is a puzzle about him, then there is also a puzzle about her."
"The power of speech is conspicuous in the play, both with regard to Othello’s courtship of Desdemona and to Iago’s ability to deceive."
Re: Macbeth "Macbeth cannot separate himself from the role he has chosen to play. If he will play the part of a murderer, then he will be a murderer, because there is no essence to a person beyond the roles he plays. His character doesn’t control his actions; his actions control his character."
"Look how much Shakespeare packs into that short description, “a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage”: the poverty of life, its brevity, its falseness, the way we posture and worry—trying to cover our unease with exaggerated gestures, playing a role that always feels somehow wrong, pathetically subservient to the applause of others. That, indeed, has the ring of awful truth to it. I certainly feel Shakespeare talking directly to us in that description, with Macbeth as his mouthpiece. Somehow it is the interaction of time and theatricality that seems particularly terrible here—“his hour upon the stage.” Life is brief, a flickering candle soon snuffed, but worse it is taken up with acting—with concealment, artifice, the need to impress. If only we could live out our brief life span in some other mode, with more... authenticity (but what exactly would that be?). The self is essentially a theatrical construct, so there is really no possible exit from our status as “poor player."
Re: Psychology "Deception is not just a necessary means to nefarious ends, but an evil end in its own right. It is a basic form of power over other people, an assertion of individual will. To deceive someone is to destroy his relationship to the truth, to alienate him from the real world."
I'm not drawn to philosophy--in fact, philosophy often frustrates me--but I am drawn to Shakespeare, and this was a very rewarding read. A very clear, interesting, and engaging text that had me, uncharacteristically, happily underlining & making notations throughout its pages. I'm a big Lear fan (play, not the guy), but I was delightfully surprised at how moved I was by the chapter on The Tempest. The penultimate four chapters, Shakespeare and Gender, Shakespeare and Psychology, Shakespeare and Ethics, Shakespeare's and Tragedy were terrific as well. I thought it was fun to compare the chapters on the specific plays McGinn examines to Bloom (I'm a really fun girl), so McGinn's final chapter just put a big red bow on this read, just for me. Great stuff, four and a half starts.
Five stars for what must have required monumental preparation and research. Five stars for wonderfully clear and concise writing. Five stars for giving everyone who appreciates and loves Shakespeare more to learn. This is a most entertaining and satisfying tome well worthy of at least one more visit. Mr, McGinn taught me Shakespeare anew and for that I am grateful. I can't help wonder what Kittridge might have thought. One hopes he'd be pleased. I encourage if not urge Bardolaters all to immerse themselves in this marvelous sea of scholarship.
Like a complex character situated in a complex plot, McGinn's survey of philosophy as he finds it in six plays (A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hamlet, Othello, MacBeth, King Lear & The Tempest) honors complexity, dignifies plurality, and celebrates the definite uncertainty Shakespeare gave his plays.
McGinn uses three different yardsticks to aid in measuring the six plays: 1) knowledge and skepticism; 2) the nature of the self; and 3) the character of causality. What I appreciated in this approach lies in reading (or viewing) the plays outside of the standard literary or production terminology. It gave me a fresh appreciation for the Bard, for his era, for his stagecraft, and for the plays referenced.
Another benefit I gained in the reading lies in learning just how much Montaigne Shakespeare read; McGinn consistently identifies passages from the Frenchman's essays that relate to lines and characterizations in the plays. It gives one more reason to read Montaigne.
If there was a flaw in McGinn's book tour it was in not referencing other plays as well. But as a survey, reading it gave me a fresh appreciation and opportunities for me to use his insights in my classroom instruction and if I am so fortunate to be on the stage.
While I am in no way qualified to review Shakespeare or McGinn, I will review McGinn. First the good. Colin write very well, and it would seem he could write about many things in a thoughtful and well manner. It's basic philosophy, literature, etc. written in a way that most could understand. This, for me is vital since usually I am with the most people who don't understand.
I found a his chapter on Lear agreeable. I tend to enjoy almost anything on the play King Lear, it is such a great play. And C. McGinn doesn't disappoint. The rest of it seems a little too simple. I can't quite explain why I feel like his style of writing didn't give the respect that Shakespeare demands. I don't know.
His review on Shakepseare's philosophy on gender is good, though, I don't buy into it all as good in & of itself as a phil.
The rest of it is worth the read for beginners and intermediates of W. Shake.
I gave it three not always because of the content, but also for the writing style and it's role for those looking for some meaning behind the plays.
Philosophy and I never seemed to get along, so I was a bit hesitant to read this. Thakfully, McCann helped resolve that issue. The book contains six of Shakespeare's best known plays. The chapter for each begins with a brief essay discussing its theme. The plays are: A MID SUMMER'S NIGHT'S DREAM, HAMLET, KING LEAR, MACBETH, OTHELLO, and THE TEMPEST. Themes covered are: causation; dream skepticism; evil; imagination, appearance/reality, action/character, nature of time; language; and Self. Items are listed alphabetically so they do not correlate. You will find that out as you read. The book concludes with four essays entitled " Shakespeare and ..." The topics are gender, psychology, ethics, and tragedy. Advisories: 1) Be sure you have a working knowledge of epistemology and 2) the more one has had contact with the play the more she/he will appreciate its chapter.
While I might disagree from time to time with McGinn's assessment of a play or a part of a play--Hamlet in particular--this was for me a worthwhile and reasonably cogent book. The section on King Lear is superb, and McGinn possesses the rare capacity among professional philosophers of rendering his ideas at least in a clear and accessible fashion, even if he is often repetitive and pedantic. Familiarity with Shakespeare's major works is a must if you are going to reap the benefits of this piece.
This is what Nussbaum recently wrote about this book: "The impression conveyed is that Shakespeare has gotten a good grade in Phil 101, with McGinn as his professor and his superior in understanding. This is a terrible way to approach Shakespeare's complexity."
Shakespeare as scientist, as neurologist, as clinician, as sage, as man- where did he come from? why did he go? let's conjure him in our daily lives and words and deeds.
Was in the Folger Shakespeare Library in DC and unexpectedly struck up a conversation with James Cromwell. He suggested I read this. A good read if you love Will. All the world's a stage.
A really interesting book. Written by a philosophy rather than a literary specialist it provides a different take on Shakespeare's work. I found it fascinating.