Performativity and Rhetorical Performance of the Recalcitrant Body in Shakespeare's Troilus and...
-
Upload
bloomfield -
Category
Documents
-
view
1 -
download
0
Transcript of Performativity and Rhetorical Performance of the Recalcitrant Body in Shakespeare's Troilus and...
Performativity and the Performance of the Recalcitrant Body in Troilus and Cressida1
Blackfriars Conference 2013
Freddie Harris Ramsby
In Renaissance Figures of Speech,2 Sylvia Adamson et al reference the close
connection between rhetoric and poetics in the Renaissance and how the literary and
rhetorical were merged in a variety of rhetorical situations from “debates or speeches of
praise to political argument or courtroom drama” (4). Adamson et al thus highlight what is
traditionally regarded as rhetoric’s role in the Renaissance—persuasion in civic domains,
with a healthy dose of style! As they point out, the performance of rhetoric was also
ubiquitous on the stage. Certainly Erasmus, the maestro of humanist rhetorical
amplification, had a tremendous influence on playwrights: Jeffrey J. Yu3 writes that
Erasmus’ De Copia was "the greatest single influence upon the way Shakespeare order[ed]
ideas" and that "Shakespeare was ... the alpha-plus boy who took the Erasmusian
instructions about varying and amplifying an idea to heights unparalleled."
To illustrate rhetoric’s traditional function as persuasion and style, Adamson et al
index a scene from Troilus and Cressida (hereafter Troilus):
Cressida: Will you walk in my lord?
Troilus: O Cressid, how often have I wished me thus!
Cressida: Wished my lord? The gods grant—o my Lord!
Troilus: What should they grant? What makes this pretty interruption? (3.2)
Adamson et al note that Cressida’s interruption, a performance of the rhetorical figure
aposiopesis, whereby an orator breaks off his/her speech in order to perform bashfulness,
fear, anger, sorrow etc., demonstrates either Cressida being truly self-conscious or an
“artful Cressida” performing reticence (5). Whether she is feigning bashful or not,
Adamson et al see her use of aposiopesis as seductive persuasion, enacting Mary Lady
1 I use the Arden Shakespeare’s edition of Troilus and Cressida. Ed. David Bevington.
2 Adamson, Sylvia, Gavin Alexander and Katrin Ettenhuber. Eds. Renaissance Figures of Speech. Cambridge:
Cambridge UP, 2007. Print 3 Comparative Drama 41.1 (2007) 79-106. Web,
Wroth’s4 idea of coquettishness: “Desiring to bee thought bashfull, but more longing to bee
intreated for the rest: (qtd in Adamson et al, 5).
Cressida has famously been regarded suspiciously, until recent decades when
feminist literary theorists and directors took up her plight. So it’s no surprise that Adamson
et al question her authenticity. But what I see as cautionary behaviour—both with Troilus
and with her encounter with the Greek Diomedes—has been established as duplicity,
summed up by Troilus’ infamous lines: “this is, and is not, Cressid” (V.II)—a line that
highlights the play’s preoccupation with indeterminacy. With this in mind, the lines
proceeding, “will you walk in my lord,” and Troilus’ famous accusation, index Cressida’s
body as a fluctuating signifier, ready to be “filled” and constituted by the language of others.
Her body reflects whatever the Greek or Trojan warriors would have it signify given the
social and political attitudes expressed in the play. Nevertheless, while her body is
established by figures of war, economy, or patriarchy, Cressida performs her awareness of
these rhetorical norms by drawing our attention to her limited performance space within
them; and she does this through regular use of aposiopesis; she is a consistent
contradiction, embodying aposiopesis within the confines of the illogicality of the
patriarchy and the effects of its language on the bodies of women. It’s no wonder that she is
consistently stopped in her tracks.
In positing Cressida’s self-awareness, and her constitution of self by others,
Shakespeare employs his rhetorical means to, as Peter Womack5 states, “[play] with the
levels of power in society” (80). We might extend this to his treatment of women. In terms
of how Shakespeare offers Cressida the space (albeit tragically) to push against the
confines of the language that constitutes her, I argue that her performance expands our
notion of not only renaissance rhetoric uses of style, (embodied by actors to give us both
overt and implicit insight into their characters), but 20th and 21st century rhetorical theory.
In fact, Cressida embodies a dramatic enactment of theories of performativity, especially
those advanced by Judith Butler. Indeed, while still engaging rhetoric’s concern with
dramatic figures of speech, I believe Troilus performs something like proto- theories of
performativity. My purpose here is not to reiterate the feminist readings of Cressida that
4 The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania
5 English Renaissance Drama. Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2006. Print.
have dominated the literacy scene since the early 1970s--readings that establish her in a
feminist light against constructions of Cressida-as-whore that so dominated before the70s-
- but to observe her role as embodying a figure of speech associated with one who is so
overcome by emotion, that she is literally figured into consistent vacillation. This
enactment of a figure of speech renders performative theory more tangible, more
embodied. However, it is crucial that for aposiopesis to be a truly embodied act of theory
that performs the confines and affordances of performativity, an actress playing Cressida
must inhabit it. Its propensity as a figure of speech that indicates indecision—a figure that
to be readable must be accompanied by certain gestures to indicate one who must stop
because she is so overcome with emotion—is lost if the figurative gestures are abandoned
by the actor.
**********
Performativity, as developed by Butler, constitutes rhetorical theory in that it
addresses bodies, as Kenneth Burke6 puts it, as “generators of belief” (105). In A Rhetoric of
Motives, Burke expands the notion of rhetoric as persuasion to rhetoric as identification.
Identification marks a change in attitude, in sentiment, or action, so that persuasion can
occur (55). Burke says “you persuade a man only insofar as you can talk his language by
speech, gesture, tonality, order, image, attitude, idea, identifying your ways with his (55
emphasis in original). So, underlying a traditional notion of rhetoric as persuasion is
“identification or consubstantiality in general” (55). Burke argued that communities shape
identity and thus inclinations toward identification (or not), in that as one gathers and
discards identity-building experiences, bodies that interact and identify in communities
shape beliefs about which performances of the body matter, and which don’t. In other
words, to identify in order to persuade, one’s body must index certain beliefs and values--
hence Burke’s comments about the rhetoricity of bodies as generators of belief. We might
thus couple Burke’s observations about bodies with Butler’s definition of performativity.
Butler draws her theories of performativity from J.L Austin’s notion of the
performative wherein a speech act is successful given certain conditions that authorize its
success. Austin writes that in the case of a performative utterance (for instance “I do now
6 Counter-Statement Berkeley, CA: U of California P, 1931. Print.
pronounce you man and wife”), one is not just describing the act of marrying, one is, Austin
says, "Indulging in it" (6). In other words, the saying of the utterance is the doing of it: “the
issuing of an utterance is the performing of an action” (Austin 6). Yet, for a performative to
function successfully, it must correspond with what James Loxley7 calls “the facts of a
situation” (2). A performative’s success is relational: “but only for a general dimension of
being a right or proper thing to say as opposed to a wrong thing in these circumstances, to
this audience, for these purposes and with these intentions” (145). So if one is getting
married by one’s little brother in a mock up wedding, the performative will not succeed.
Once he has established the conditions for a performative to work, Austin re-frames all
statements as “speech acts” (139). And, like the performative utterance, all speech acts
must be understood as successful in terms of “how the words stand in respect of
satisfactoriness to the facts, events, situations, &c., to which they refer” (149). Even when
we state something in general, its felicity, its truthfulness, is situational. In short, Austin
collapses statements and performatives into what he terms the “total speech act” (148). We
can no longer think of statements as true and false but that the successfulness of a speech
act is concerned with the conditions within in which it is uttered.
For Butler, the performative is successful, not because of intention or situation, but
by a citational force that authorizes it to bring about the reality that it utters. Citing Jacques
Derrida,8 she connects speech acts and discursive power when she notes that a speech act
is only successful if is a “coded or iterable utterance…identifiable as conforming with an
iterable model” (Derrida qtd. in Butler 51). A performative is thus not successful because
the utterer has total agency or complete control over his/her intention: She says “a
performative provisionally succeeds… not because an intention successfully governs the
actions of speech but only because that action echoes prior actions and accumulates the
force of authority through the repetitions or citation of a prior and authoritative set of
practices” (51 emphasis in original). A speech act then is successful if it is recognizable
through its consistent reiteration in “ritualized practice” (51).
7 Performativity. New York: Routledge, 2007. Print.
8 Excitable Speech
Butler expands her strand of Austinian performativity to bodily performances. For
Butler, performativity is not just what one does when one is performing the body—how the
body is brought into being through performances of gender, for example—but how one is
constrained in that performance, in performances shaped by community attitudes, by
situations, but more importantly by the authority of discourses which draw their power
from consistent reiteration. One exists then, not only by being recognized but recognizable
within the discursive conditions that make one intelligible in the communities within which
one is attempting to identify. Yet between reiterations of a performance of identifiable
attitudes, there is room to re-perform in ways that exceed normative discourse. Butler 9
sees performance, then, as a means to push the boundaries of the discursive constraints of
bodily performativity (155). And this has something to do with the potentiality of the
space that exists in-between iterations of conventional bodily behaviour and bodily
construction. This potentiality is also assumed in the function of the theatrical space. It is a
space, as Weber points out, “where potentialities are tried out” (46). It is from this
“potential” space that Cressida performs within the language that interpellates her, using
aposiopesis as her only method of pushing against it.
**********
Language’s potentiality within the interpellating effects of convention figures
Troilus’ as rhetorical theory. Troilus thus furthers a postmodern view of language. In the
Rhetorical Tradition, Patricia Bizzell and Bruce Herzberg10 note that rhetoric in the
twentieth century encompasses, “a theory of language as a form of social behaviour, of
intention and interpretation as the determinants of meaning, of the way that knowledge is
created by argument, and of the way that ideology and power are extended through
language” (1183). Troilus interrupts the idea that language determines platonic truth with
a capital T, or that there is a definitive relationship between convention, language, and
reality. In fact, it furthers twentieth century rhetorical notions that language is
performance—a sophistic view that renders language as mutable, indeterminate.
9 “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution.” The Performance Studies Reader. Ed. Henry Bial. New York:
Routledge. 2004. Print. 154-166. 10 The Rhetorical Tradition. Second ed. Boston and New York: Bedford/St. Martins, 2001. Print.
I suspect that Shakespeare is onto this given that although his characters are
obsessed with convention, Troilus is saturated with ambiguity. After all, the play is staged
around a war that has no beginning or end; it just goes on and on…and on. So it is crucial to
point out this preoccupation with ambiguity to establish how Shakespeare muddles with
performative convention in terms of Cressida’s actions. Troilus’ particularly disdainful fool,
Thersites, speaks volumes about the Shakespearian agitation of norms with his famous
description of war’s futility:
Here is such patchery, such juggling and such knavery! All argument is a
whore and cuckold; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions and bleed to
death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject, and war and lechery
confound all! (2.3)
Thersites’s commentary destabilizes conventional characterizations of Homeric figures.
Menelaus, the legendary king of Sparta, and Helen, possessed of the face that launched a
thousand ships, are now reduced to sordid subversions of Homeric epic. Indeed, as David
Bevington puts it in his introduction to the Arden edition, “Shakespeare has chosen to play
up the worst aspects of Homeric legend” (29). This subversion serves as touchstone—a
central indicator of not only Shakespeare’s critique of the perpetuators of war, but it
shrouds the play in the general flavour of the destabilization of convention.
This destabilization is also performed by the play’s relentless references to truth or
what is true—seemingly nothing in fact. Firstly, the play is riddled with little oxymorons
which problematize the truthfulness of words: Pandarus describes Cressida as “horribly in
love” (3.1.94). When Diomedes arrives to Troy and exchanges caustic comments with the
Greek Aeneas, Paris wryly notes their greetings as “the most despiteful’st gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard of” (4.1.34-35) and later we hear that Troilus
loves Cressida with “so strained a purity” (4.4.23). All these paradoxes seem to indicate
that truth is an illusion—an illusion that Cressida, it seems, has caught on to as she
repeatedly stops herself in her tracks, and changes her mind about who she is and how she
must act.
**********
Cressida pushes the boundaries of limiting discursivity, or rather performs her
awareness of the limits of language and convention through her embodiment of
aposiopesis in two scenes. First, she not only performs it in the excerpt that opens this
paper, but continues to perform it throughout her sexual encounter with Troilus that night
and in the next morning. Her consistent stopping- herself-in-her-tracks on this occasion are
all enacted within the conventions of courtly love11. Indeed, she acknowledges in Act 1 that
she must, if her lover is to stay interested, appear un-interested: “Yet I hold off. Women are
angels wooing;/Things won are done. Joys soul lies in the doing./That she beloved knows
naught that knows not this;/Men prize12 the thing ungained more than it is.” (1.2.276-80).
Not surprisingly, Cressida talks about herself in terms of monetary worth; she is more of an
asset if she doesn’t reveal her desire to Troilus.
Cressida continues to employ aposiopesis on several more occasions in 3.2. Besides
her initial use of the figure, when Troilus asks her why she has played so hard to get, she
responds,
Hard to seem won; but I was won my lord,
With the first glance that ever—pardon me;
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant (3.2.113-115)
In confessing why she has seemed distant, Cressida is overcome, stops in mid-sentence and
berates herself for her confession, her truthfulness. Moments later, she stops herself again:
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
Why have I blabb'd? (3.2.118-120)
And then a few lines later:
See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel! Stop my mouth. (3.2. 127-129).
In one speech, Cressida interrupts herself no less than 3 times—the last, she actually
verbalizes a variation of “I must shut up now.” My point is, that through her use of
aposiopesis she exposes, albeit rather in-elegantly, the illogicality of the conventions of
courtly love that she is constrained within. One wonders how else she might push up
against its limits.
11
Discussion of which is explored more thoroughly in Chapter 3 of my dissertation. 12 Other editions exchange “prize” for “price”
Cressida knows her body is a commodity. Pandarus, her pimping uncle, entreats the
lovers to kiss with “Go to, a bargain made, Seal it, seal it; I’ll be the witness (3.2.191). And,
as Marjorie Garber13 points out, Cressida asks Troilus twice, “Will you walk in my Lord,”
(3.2. 60/95) which is “the traditional invitation of the prostitute to her customer” (553).
But Garber parallels this with Paris’ later similar invitation to the Greeks, including
Diomedes (who will later claim Cressida--whom, I claim, reluctantly acquiesces), who have
come to collect Cressida in an exchange for the Trojan, Antenor: “Please you walk in, my
lords” (553). Cressida not only maps the language of convention on to her own body, her
own identity, but this identity is ratified by Paris’ invitation. Indeed, she is a body to be
bargained over. She is to be prostituted to the Greeks.
Constituted by this language, Cressida performs her confusion through aposiopesis
within it. On the one hand, this articulation of her body enacts its performative effects
through her behaviour. Once she gets to the Greek camp, she is, as she has been throughout,
interpellated as a prostitute. She gets passed around the Greek commanders, who all kiss
her; to which she responds “with quick sense” as Nestor puts it (4.5.45), (which depending
on the direction a production takes could be incredibly brave, or incredibly short minded
given that she is in an enemy camp.) She puts both Menelaus and Nestor in their places
with her quick wit, which one could construe as either bawdy or self-preservation;
nevertheless, her recognizability as a prostitute is cemented by Ulysses:
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body….
…Set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity
And daughters of the game. (4.5.55-64)
Given Ulysses’ construction of her, as well as her situation in the enemy camp and with
Troilus, her worth as an article of exchange, Cressida is an impossible position—so when
Diomedes comes to Cressida’s tent, she is the epitome of flustered.
13 Shakespeare After All. New York: Anchor, 2004. Print.
When she encounters Diomedes in the Greek camp, Cressida responds to him as her
“guardian.” Many feminist scholars14 have seen Cressida’s indulgence of Diomedes’
advances as a self-protective measure. If she is to survive in such frightening conditions,
she must align herself with a protector. So when she and Diomedes meet alone in Calchas’
tent, she once again performs her confusion within the constraints of her bodily
intelligibility through aposiopesis. While seeming to capitulate to Diomedes’ advances,
Cressida consistently stops herself in what could be construed as panicked moments of
regret for how she must act in the present moment, while she in fact loves Troilus15. What
results is an odd game of tug of war (all puns intended). Cressida goes back and forth in
what seems like a seduction and rejection of Diomedes. After rejecting him, she appears to
call him back with “Guardian!--why, Greek!” but when he demands a token of her, and she
offers the only token she has, Troilus’ sleeve, she snatches it back, stopping herself in mid
sentence: “You look upon that sleeve;/ behold it well. He loved me--O false wench!--Give't
me again” (5.2.72-73). Then later, when Diomedes insists that she pledge to be with him
the next night, she responds in broken sentences, “Ay, come-- O Jove!.--do come.--I shall be
plagued.” (5.2.111). Cressida does not act in confidence, she does not act as though she is
comfortable with the confines of courtly love, or the measure of her body as commodity, or
as a daughter of the game. Instead, Shakespeare surrenders her to the utter confusion of
her bodily constitution, inferred by her constant use of aposiopesis.
**********
While Shakespeare’s subversion of normative discursive convention in Troilus is far
more prolific than spatial limits allow, it is plentiful enough that Cressida’s performance
within it can, in no way, allow for her to be permanently constructed as “false as Cressid.” I
have argued that her consistent use of aposiopesis is the only form of protest against the
constitution of her body by others that she has. And while she is interpellated by others,
made recognizable through them, she still pushes against their constricting force with what
14 For instance, Janet Adelmen 'This Is and Is Not Cressid': The Characterization of Cressida, in The Mother Tongue: Essays in Feminist Psychoanalytic Interpretation, ed. Shirley Nelson Gamer, Claire Kahane, and Madelon Sprengnether. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 1985,119–41. 15
Troilus, of course, sees her actions only through the eyes of a cuckolded courtly lover.