Shakespearean Epiphany

Summary

“That is why the theatre, for which nothing exists except the epiphanic, is so central an epitome of life.”

—Northrop Frye

SHAKESPEARE'S most compelling play begins with a haunting, a command from below stage, “Swear!” as the prince pleads, “Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!” The affronted ghost, furiously disclosing a murder that poisons familial and communal bonds, rouses the depths of human nature, but not so deep as other scenes, in Hamlet and in other plays, of genuine epiphany, which intimate the fullness and destiny of human nature. Are such scenes entirely secular, as some critics insist, or do they bear a supernatural energy and a sacral purpose? In nearly forty plays over more than twenty years, does the spiritual depth charge intensify, and does Shakespeare’s religious profile become more overt? Most epiphanies, of course, are positive, life-affirming and faith restoring; they fix people’s brokenness, notably in the romances; but are there negative epiphanies, scenes of chaos, horror, desolation, showing deep malice in human nature and implying an absent or cruel God? Finally, how does Shakespeare manage this potent device in plotting a play? Is it a single revelation, like the discovery scene of Greek tragedy, or do Shakespeare's plays present an incremental series of epiphanies, each placed at the center of a passional cycle, and together building to a soul shaking revelation?

For Christians, epiphany is a major event, showing God among us. Epiphany Day (January 6), the twelfth day of Christmastide, celebrates the magi's visit to a baby who incarnated God as an earthly being. Scholars have compared this to the divine showings of other cultures. We are charmed by the Greek hero Odysseus meeting his crafty guardian Athena and by the dutiful Roman hero Aeneas meeting his doting mother Venus. In Greek tragedies we admire Apollo and Athena as rational arbiters who can appease the vengeful Furies, and show King Oedipus his proud errancy. The Bhagavad-Gita's divine encounters are more complex and awe-inspiring: Krishna's profound sensual allure of Gopi women gives way in wartime to Prince Arjuna's dismay at Krishna’s horrific totality, seeing many friends and admired teachers gored on the god's tusks. As we shall see, Shakespeare's showings resemble Hinduism's in worldly prolixity and in facing annihilative darkness. But does he differ, intimating something more?