Fate plays an
immense role in The Merchant of Venice,
manifesting itself more clearly than in perhaps any play we have read thus
far. It appears primarily in the
suitors’ courtship of Portia, as they must choose the chest in which her
picture resides. This method, chosen by
her father before his death, robs her of all choice in marriage—“Besides the lott’ry
of my destiny/Bars me the right of voluntary choosing” (II.2, 15-16). Portia’s inability to perform “voluntary
choosing” alludes to the relationship between fate and gender I discussed to in
my last blog post on Taming of the Shrew. Women in Renaissance society society, despite
Shakespeare equipping them with both ability and intelligence, are robbed of
choice by their male counterparts.
Fate in Merchant, however, extends beyond the
boundaries of patriarchy. Just as
religion plays a significant role in the relationship of Shylock the Jew and
the other Christian merchants, it influences Portia’s fate as well. With her father being described as a “holy
man” with “good inspiration” by Nerissa, the hint of a supernatural presence
emerges. Antonio’s victory in his trial
further evidences this, and one can view his triumph over Shylock as a victory
of Christianity over Judaism. The New
Testament teachings, which “doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy,” supersede
those of the Old Testament that preaches the “justice” Shylock seeks. Christian religion, therefore, serves as the
determinant for disputes in the play, whether they are of legal or marital
nature. When Portia tells Bassanio, “There’s
something tells me, but it is not love/I would not lose you…” (III.2, 4-5) it
is not unreasonable to suppose, then, that this “something” is a predetermined
supernatural act pairing the characters for marriage with one another.
With all this
said, does any true “supposition” actually exist in the play? I mean “supposition” in terms of Shylock
stating, “Yet [Antonio’s] means are in supposition,” or in question. This is an important issue that would
challenge the uncertainty surrounding the mercantilist practices of the
time. It is also interesting in terms of
genre, as in the comedies we have read thus far the protagonist, whether this individual
is “good” or “bad,” always achieves whatever he desires. The Antipholuses achieved both sanity and
familial union, Petruchio “tamed” Kate the shrew, and Antonio keeps his life
and recovers his fortune: “Sweet lady, you have given me life and living,/ For
here I read for certain that my ships/Are safely come to road” (V.1, 286-88). Bassanio was always destined to win Portia in
the “lott’ry” proposed by her father, and in doing so “bring [Antonio’s] latter
hazard back again/And thankfully rest debtor for the first” (I.2, 151-52). Bassanio’s acquisition of Portia’s wealth
repays both “the first” and the “latter” debts, and of Portia herself allows
for him—through Portia—to win Antonio’s life.
In living, Antonio soon discovers the means of his supposition, his
merchant vessels, return to him unharmed. The characters, except the unfortunate Shylock
and perhaps to a lesser extent his daughter Jessica, all ultimately become “sufficient”
through fate.
Excellent post! This exploration of fate as manifest through social custom, Providence, and genre is really great: at every turn the possibilities of determinism and free will seem coextensive until they are completely fused in the playwright who determines the genre and the characters' outcomes. It's hard to talk about free will in drama, to be sure.
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