Sunday, October 20, 2013

Rituals of Rebellion in Shakespeare's Henry IV: Socio-Cultural Blog

The application of Max Gluckman’s argument in his “Rituals of Rebellion in South-East Africa” to Shakespeare’s I Henry IV not only provides a new reading of the Act II role play scene between Falstaff and Hal, but it also generates a thought-provoking analysis of the greater political struggle between King Henry and the rebels.  In order to place the two texts in meaningful conversation, it is first necessary to offer a brief background of the context of the play.  King Henry faces a group of political dissenters, “the rebels,” who are headed by the Percy family.  The rebels assert that their cause is just because of Henry’s unnatural ascent to the throne when he “put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, / And plant[ed] this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke;” referring, that is, to Henry himself (I.III.175-6).  To clarify, Richard II was deposed by Henry, who from this very act of rebellion has now invited the same fate for himself. Henry’s choice to wrest the throne from Richard, then, not only calls into question Henry’s validity as king, but also subverts the authority of heredity succession to dictate ascension to the throne.  This insecurity in the line of succession is epitomized in Henry’s own acknowledgment that Hotspur, Percy’s son, is a better representation of an heir than his own Hal, who seems to only revel in the tavern world.  The play moves between these questions of legitimacy, with 1 Henry IV culminating in Hal’s fulfillment of his duty as heir by killing Hotspur on the battlefield, thereby reinstating faith in the line of succession.  Henry’s validity as king is also restored through Hal’s actions and the end of the rebellion is signaled with this victory and Henry’s assumption of the crown in 2 Henry IV

Rituals of rebellion, despite potentially calling into question the legitimacy of those wearing the vestments of authority, do not challenge the system which dictates this power.  Gluckman articulates that “these ritual rebellions proceed within an established and sacred traditional system, in which there is dispute about particular distributions of power, and not about the structure of the system itself.” (198)  The universality of this statement allows its model to extend beyond Gluckman’s South-East African examples.  In fact, it overlays well with the political context of Shakespeare’s I Henry IV.  The parallel between the two was suggested earlier, but not overtly stated.  In regards to the play, the “established and sacred traditional system” is the English system kingship that is cracked in Richard II’s deposition.  The rebel cause is the manifestation of the “dispute about particular distributions of power,” as the crown itself, or the kingship, is not being called into question, but instead Henry’s validity as their representing figure.  The rebels are contesting Henry himself, not the kingship, as they will inevitably transfer the crown to another head if successful.  As encapsulated by Gluckman’s analysis of the African political sphere, these “Contenders for power against established authority sought only to acquire the same positions of authority for themselves.” (208) Gluckman, however, goes a step farther and proposes that these rituals of rebellion “allow(s) for instituted protest, and in complex ways renew(s) the unity of the system.” (198)  On a greater scale than these isolated, choreographed rituals, Gluckman also poses the question that “If this emphasis on potential rebellion in practice made the nation feel united, is it not possible that civil rebellion itself was a source of strength to these systems?” (210) 

The play speaks to both the function and significance of these ceremonial rituals of rebellion, such as the Swazi incwala ceremony, or first-fruits ceremony, as well as to the possibility of large-scale civil rebellions to counter-intuitively perpetuate and affirm the existing structures of hierarchy and power.  In Act II, the scene in which Falstaff and Hal take turns imitating King Henry structurally echoes the traits which Gluckman identifies in the Swazi incwala ceremony. Hal and Falstaff act out the same subconscious elements which Gluckman identifies: “For the [established] order itself keeps this rebellion within bounds,” as well as the idea that “his personal isolation,” though they “dramatically express the real alignments of struggles for power in the system,” do in fact “intensify actions and emotions expressing loyalty.” (208;209) 

Consider the scene between Falstaff and Hal.  Hal, who has been neglecting his duties as son and heir by engaging in the pursuits and frivolities of the tavern world, has been summoned by his father back to court.  To practice for this meeting, Hal asks Falstaff, “Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the / particulars of my life.” (II.IV. 343-4) Falstaff replies, “Content.  This chair shall be my state, this / dagger my scepter, and this cushion my crown.” (II.IV.345-5) Here, Falstaff embodies a ritual of rebellion by pretending to assume the vestments of the kingship in order to embody the authority associated with them.  However, this is only a devaluation of the accoutrements of power, as evidenced by Hal’s mocking, “Thy state is taken for a joint stool, they golden scepter / for a leaden dagger, and they precious rich crown for a / pitiful bald crown.” (II.IV.347-9) Although Falstaff is metaphorically enacting a usurpation of Henry, seen especially in his offhanded “Depose me?” to Hal when they switch positions, the action has no tangible effect on the kingship (II.IV.396).  To clarify, although Falstaff is given the opportunity to play the king, as well as to occupy a higher position than Hal, he is well aware that this is only allowed because it is no more than an imitation of the “real” kingship. 

This is further reinforced by the successive role reversal between Hal and Falstaff.  Hal assumes the position of his father, King Henry, while Falstaff plays Hal.  As the heir to the throne, Hal carries a similar authority as his father, even if he has not yet acknowledged this in the play.  At the conclusion of their conversation Falstaff as Hal pleads to the king (Hal) “…but for sweet Jack Falstaff… / banish not him thy / Harry’s company, banish not him they Harry’s company - / banish plump Jack, and banish the world,” to which Hal replies with the telling, “I do, I will.” (II.IV.434-9) Here Hal asserts the authority of the king over his subjects, particularly the power of the royal court over its subjects.  Echoing Gluckman’s observation that “order itself keeps this rebellion within bounds,” Hal asserts the authority of the kingship.  Both Hal and Falstaff recognize that their playthings are only imitations of the “true” crown, scepter, and throne.  In essence, they are reinforcing the legitimacy of Henry’s kingship by distinguishing between these items and their props; though they both play at being king, both recognize that they do so only through comparison to Henry’s crown, which is metaphorically and jokingly, but never ideologically, contested. 

To conclude, the play provides an affirmative argument for Gluckman’s question that “If this emphasis on potential rebellion in practice made the nation feel united, is it not possible that civil rebellion itself was a source of strength to these systems?”  (210) For Shakespeare’s I Henry IV, the instability which Henry causes through the deposition of Richard II generates an environment susceptible to the threat of rebellion.  The success of Henry’s own rebellion calls into question not the authority of the kingship, but his own personal validity as king.  Hal serves as the solution to legitimizing Henry’s kingship and eventually ending the rebellion.  Hal’s defeat of Hotspur, the figurehead of the rebel movement, at the conclusion of play proves Hal’s worth as heir to the throne and, by through renewing faith in the principle of hereditary succession, in turn reaffirms Henry’s kingship.  The civil rebellion, then, is Hal’s touchstone for asserting his duty as heir and its successful defeat perpetuates the authority of the kingship. 

To add a brief note: I acknowledge that this example only “works” to answer Gluckman’s question in the positive because the rebellion is successfully put down.  If the rebels had not been defeated, then the analogy of this civil unrest as a true “ritual of rebellion” in Gluckman’s sense could be more easily refuted.  However, the play does function interestingly on the dual levels of Gluckman’s argument by providing a ceremonial rebellion (Hal and Falstaff’s Act II exchange) which on the surface may put tension on the authority system, but subconsciously asserts its primacy, as well as illustrating how large-scale civil rebellions may function in much the same way as the ritualized rebellions. 



Shakespeare, William. Henry IV Parts One and Two. Ed. Ronald L. Levao. United States:
Pearson Education, Inc., 2007. Print.

3 comments:

  1. When Marx Gluckman was first addressed in class, I wondered which could be the various ways not mentioned that the rights of rebellion could be applied to various aspects of novels, movies, etc., in which the rights of rebellion could easily be seen. It’s interesting to me how this theory can be seen not only in real life factors, such as wars that have/ are taking place, but also within the boundraries of television, novels, plays, etc. In fact I feel as though Gluckman’s argument is one of the most commonly seen anthropological theories. One so easily noticed, however if having not read about Gluckman myself, I probably would have never noticed that the background was based on anthropological thinking.
    It’s incredibly interesting to see the perspective of Gluckman’s argument made in “Rituals of Rebellion in South Africa” in parallel to a piece by Shakespeare. Especially the way in which you highlighted Gluckman’s argument of what exactly ritual of rebellions were in order to define the rebellion taking place in I Henry IV.
    It makes me consider the fact that Gluckman’s argument can be seen in many various ways throughout literature, movie, etc., and how most would not even begin to see the ways in which that is the portrayal of an anthropological theory.
    I found myself thinking of Harry Potter and how it too can connect to Rituals of Rebellion. I’m sure there are various ways, but the one way in particular I considered, and could very well be wrong, in that if you look at the magical world as the “established and sacred traditional system” and consider the “dispute about the distributions of power” aspect when defining ritual rebellions there are various rebellions that actually take place within the Novels. The first, clearly, being the rebellion formed by Lord Voldemort to regain his title as the most powerful wizard after Harry is born. The second one I noted was more so focused on Hermione Granger. If you look at the world of Magic in the novels broadly as the sacred and traditional system and the “Muggles” (non magic born people) who were allowed into enter into that world, take classes at Hogwarts, etc., could that not also be seen as a ritual of rebellion? The next rebellion I considered was “Dumbledore’s Army” when Harry and a group of students trained on their own in order to prepare themselves for the fight against Lord Voldemort. In which the “sacred traditional system” can be viewed as Good and the “dispute about the distribution of power” can be viewed as the rebellion of Good to prevail and take back the power that Lord Voldemort and his army have over the world of Magic.
    Again, I could be completely wrong on that account. But it did spark a great interest in the various ways in which Rituals of Rebellion are seen in everyday life, media, fiction, etc.

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    1. Seeing the various struggles in HP as rites of rebellion only works if they are not only resolved in favor of the status quo but also structurally determined to do so. To me, the threat of "evil" winning in HP feels too real for it to be a rite of rebellion, but I'd be interested in hearing what other HP fans think. Interesting post, Kay!

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  2. Very nice analysis, Erin. You manage to elucidate both Gluckman's model and Shakespeare's play by applying one to the other . . . the often elusive goal of cultural critique!

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