It’s interesting that publishing houses turn down manuscripts on the grounds that they “didn’t really grab me”, yet plays like this are prescribed as high literature worthy of study.
This was just painful. It is the most soul-destroyingly boring play I’ve read in a while. (I was loving reading this early modern stuff - and then this one and Tamburlaine dipped the quality.)
It borrows from Senecan drama, according to the introduction - which entailed “long, setentious speeches”, and the violence (ie. the exciting stuff) happening offstage. Interesting in its own right, but it means the play has aged terribly for a modern audience. My heart sank when I saw these huge chunks of text waiting for me - some acts are entirely made up of soliloquy! Remind me never to read anything by Seneca. Without an actor to bring it to life, it’s a dire experience (and that actor would have to do some heavy-lifting anyway because the plot’s not even that interesting).
And the plot was just terrible! In the same way that Tamburlaine’s message - whether intended by Marlowe or not - was that Timūr was a violent tyrant, this one says the same about Herod the Great. He demands that someone kill his wife if he dies in war so nobody else can have her, kills the servant when he fails to carry out this plan even though he comes back alive (!!) (and because he blabs), then sends his wife to execution on the flimsiest of evidence that she’s tried to poison him. (In reality, the “guiltless” Mariam has been framed by Salome, Herod’s sister.)
There are also a host of side characters who have been mistreated by Herod in various ways. Salome distracts Herod from these characters with the Mariam poison plot.
Herod kills her on this flimsy evidence and then instantly regrets it. Is he the tragic hero rather than Mariam? Tragic heroes aren’t usually “guiltless”, and he fits the criterium of a tragic error of judgement. But he also has very few - if any - redeeming qualities, so maybe not.
The introduction argues that Cary herself would have related to this story “because Mariam must [like Cary did] struggle with the strong sense of obligation imposed on her by the sacrament of marriage, even if she is married to a dangerously suspicious man.” (617) So the play could be read as a cautionary tale against the dangers of the marriage market to young women.
The part I did like is the opening: Mariam believes her awful husband is dead, and is shocked at herself for crying even though he is a tyrant. She struggles simultaneously between crying even though he was awful, and then guilt that she secretly feels relieved by his death. That was an apt observation of human nature. Sometimes we do mourn even for the most toxic people in our lives. (And you can feel her dread when he comes back to her. His remaining alive effectively signs her death warrant.)