An analysis of Shakespeare’s play, Julius Caesar.
In societal structure of the wolf, there exists an alpha male, an overlord of indomitable leadership. As time progresses, however, the alpha male declines; his dominion ends when challenged by a younger, fiercer wolf. The alpha’s fall is due to a single misstep – the allowance of the ascension of challengers. This phenomenon transcends nature and is even mirrored in government and politics. From Athens to Beijing, this vicious cycle plagues each generation of leaders; each rises, wanes, and falls – each brought down by younger contemporaries. The same fate befalls Roman emperor Julius Caesar, assassinated by a ruthless cabal of Senators who seek to end his reign in cold blood. With one simple decision – the choice to heed the words of Decius, a conspirator – rather than heed those of a trusted confidante – Calphurnia, his wife – Caesar catalyzes his own demise. Ultimately, Caesar’s choice can be attributed to the weak, inarticulate explanation that Calphurnia offers of her dreams, an explanation that is easily overpowered by the conniving, methodical interpretation that Decius makes of the very same images.
The stark contrast between the two arguments appears before Decius even speaks. As Calphurnia’s words are the first to enter Caesar’s ears, so too are they the first to influence him. Her argument surrenders to fear, as she opines that the blood of her dream is a harbinger of the “noise of battle” and the groans of “dying men” (lines 10-11). In calling forth the image of battle, Calphurnia evokes a powerful memory with which Caesar is intricately familiar. In creating this familiarity, Calphurnia aids Caesar in comprehending her concern, thereby keeping Caesar from the Senate and his death. At the same time, the image is bitterly ironic – while Caesar associates battle with victory, Calphurnia turns battle into a symbol of defeat. No more does the blood belong to the citizens of lands long conquered; instead, the blood belongs to Caesar’s own subjects, butchered by the domestic upheaval from his untimely demise. Though intended to stoke fear in Caesar’s veins, the image only bolsters Caesar’s egotism and vainglory. As a result, the image of battle works against Calphurnia’s favor, weakening rather than strengthening her argument. Thus, Calphurnia’s words fail to align with Caesar’s innermost ambitions. In failing to establish this critical accord, Calphurnia’s argument becomes self-defeating – the very arguments meant to support her case, from the omens of battle to the forewarning of bloodshed, become the argument’s very undoing. The problem only compounds further as Calphurnia’s words begin to bridge on insult, as she asserts that Caesar’s wisdom is “consumed in confidence” (line 29). Though Calphurnia’s analysis is entirely accurate, so too is it haplessly misguided. In the word, “consumed”, Calphurnia invokes the image of a fallen angel, an angel perverted by power and prowess. Her words allude to the days when Caesar was like Mark Antony, the days when Caesar was an inspirational, visionary leader – a fierce, young wolf – rather than a tyrant seduced by a lust for domination and authority. At the same time, the term calls to mind the impression of a gluttonous despot. For Caesar, this is no comparison to be taken lightly, but rather a comparison to be perceived as great insult and injury. After all, it would be damning for an emperor to be deemed corrupt by his own spouse – a spouse who humbly forgoes the crown solely for her husband’s well-being. Though Caesar’s actions are indeed consumed by a craving for power, the failure of Calphurnia’s argument is in no way caused by Caesar’s own indolence. Rather, the failure of the argument is a byproduct of Calphurnia’s ineloquence and obtuse, petulant pouting. In spite of these gaffes, Calphurnia does enjoy a taste of triumph, if only briefly. Harnessing her distinction as Caesar’s wife, Calphurnia’s argument does survive for a few pivotal minutes. Here, Caesar accepts Calphurnia’s argument, though more of annoyance than true acknowledgement, leaving Calphurnia’s interpretation wholly open to a stronger counterargument.
Moments later, the counterargument arrives, cloaked in the savage duplicity of Decius’ measured, yet passionate argument, an argument that easily prevails over Calphurnia’s fractious elocution. This is clear from the outset of Decius’ argument, as he deftly parries Calphurnia’s claims that the blood is a bad omen, instead arguing that blood is more likely to symbolize a place where, “so many smiling Romans bathed / [and] Signifies that you great Rome shall suck reviving blood” (lines 48-49). With these words, Decius swiftly converts Calphurnia’s interpretation of blood from negative to positive, offering an analysis more amiable to Caesar’s ears than that which Calphurnia puts forth. By implying that Rome will “suck reviving blood”, Decius paints Rome as a helpless, defenseless infant, rather than a self-reliant empire that can function without a nepotic emperor. Decius implies that Caesar is a father to Rome, a figure who nurtures the city as if it were his progeny. In portraying the empire in this manner, Decius deludes Caesar with notions of false power, feeding into Caesar’s belief that he is impervious to any peril. To accomplish this, Decius elevates Caesar upon a pedestal above Rome, a pedestal created from the opulence which Rome achieves under Caesar’s rule. In doing so, Decius slips a cunning idea into Caesar’s mind – the idea that the local Roman population could not possibly turn against him, that the very eminence of Caesar’s rule is a shield from any domestic threat – let alone an assassination attempt in the prestigious, impregnable Senate. Decius reinforces Caesar’s confidence by goading him with the question, “If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper / ‘Lo, Caesar is afraid?’” (lines 62-63). Here, Decius capitalizes on the trepidation and insecurity that Caesar masks behind his arrogance and conceit. In provoking these emotions, Decius stokes the stimuli which drive Caesar’s despotic behavior. In short, Decius exploits the fear that lurks within Caesar’s heart, molding the fear into strings through which he can usher Caesar into the conspirators’ trap. Furthermore, Decius is fully aware that Caesar – a man loth to admit any flaw – would spurn the idea that there are even whispers that he is afraid. Decius’ sly integration of these two simple words – afraid and whisper – afford him more control over Caesar than any of Caesar’s personal demons, let alone Calphurnia. Indeed, it is Decius’ standing with Caesar that solidifies his argument. While Calphurnia presents herself as a nuisance, Decius presents himself as the humble, orderly subject of an infallible emperor, and thus, the architect of the more rational argument.
Examined together, the most critical factor that determines Decius’ triumph is the inherent instability of Calphurnia’s argument. Though Calphurnia’s words are able to influence Caesar in the short-run, they lose sway when exposed to Decius’ methodical articulation, where Decius plays into Caesar’s own self-perceptions and sways Caesar into perceiving himself as virtually impervious to any confluence of the heavens against him. Moreover, Calphurnia possesses no foreknowledge of Decius’ argument – let alone the conspirators’ plot – while Decius is already aware of Calphurnia’s argument by the time he speaks, and thus, wields the power to refute Calphurnia’s argument and misdirect Caesar into seeing the dream as a sign of success rather than a harbinger of hell. Ultimately, of course, the deciding factor in the debate arises from the speakers’ authority. Where Decius’ argument parallels the poised elegance and sagacity of Aristotle, Calphurnia’s mirrors the whining, irrational nonsense of Vladimir Putin. Ironically, it is the latter who is sincere, a fact that proves to be to Caesar’s detriment.
As Caesar falls, the vicious cycle of leadership continues, where only the strongest – and most cunning – are able to survive in a world where entropy annihilates all that exists. Through this worldview, one could argue that Caesar’s demise is in fact an allegory for the fall of the Roman Empire – and perhaps even human civilization. After all, probability dictates an end for every leader, every society, every species – even our own. Millions of years from now – perhaps even decades – the flame of human society will be extinguished from the chaotic malaise that is the universe. When this event occurs, humanity – or what is left of it – will face a critical choice: to fall with honor, as an alpha male whose domain was fair and benevolent, or to fall with arrogance, as a conceited, corrupted angel.
The Cadence of Curiosity 