The Library Annex

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
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.

I played Banquo in my high school production of Macbeth. With each read since, I find more to love about this play. Ironically, I enjoy reading it more than watching performances – barring perhaps Michael Fassbender’s version.

In the beginning, one notices the duality of opposites within Shakespeare’s language. Macbeth’s first line is, “So foul and fair a day I have not seen.” Before this, the witches say, “When the battle’s lost and won” and “Fair is foul, and foul is fair”. The dualism continues through the first act and manifests itself within Macbeth’s character; originally noble and honest but curbed by the witch’s prophecy of his political rise, causing an inner-conflict between his morality and gain. Yet the language does not profess that fair becomes foul. It asserts that the conflicting opposites coexist within the same entity. Therefore, one must ask if Shakespeare believes that within each person lies the capacity for fair and foul and must answer for the side they choose to embrace.

As the play moves to Act II, one notices a shift in Shakespeare’s language. Macbeth often refers to his senses and parts as if outside his own body; like a spectator witnessing actions out of his control. As he devolves into villainy, the noble side of his character loses the battle against his ambitious side, both still part of the whole, and can only stand to watch it happen. One then must ask themselves, is any gain worth the loss of one’s Self?

In Act III, Macbeth sinks into paranoia, willing to pay any price to maintain his ill-gotten gains. Like an animal, his ambition enslaves him to base instincts to protect his hoard of power. And each dishonorable deed delves him deeper into the foul place of his nature. One might think of the dimensions of morality as Macbeth’s arc progresses. The dual nature of his person and the dual nature of his position; scales of good and evil balancing like peaks in a sound wave. The more depravity, the more power. The more honor and nobility, the lower the social position. Can one truly experience good if they sell their soul to obtain it? Macbeth might argue that his demise brings him so low as to not even be present to enjoy the heights he achieves.

Of course, one must consider the witches. What sort of catalyst are they? Are they accountable for the plot of the story? Would Macbeth’s inner conflict and utter reduction occur without their prophecies? I’d like to pose one more question. Is Shakespeare the witches? If the witches do, indeed, control Macbeth’s fate and set him on this course, how much moreso Shakespeare directing his living characters? If so, such nihilism in his tone, wherein life’s meaning is void when one relinquishes their Self, their life’s fulfillment signifying nothing.