Sovereign Shame: A Study of King Lear

Przednia okładka
Bucknell University Press, 1984 - 210
This study of King Lear emphasizes the fact that Cordelia Kent, and the Fool create a loving community from which Lear persistently flees, and seeks to explain his bizarre behavior not, as is sometimes done, by attributing unconscious incestuous desires to him, but by demonstrating that Lear's profound and tyrannizing shame originates in his metaphysical dread of personal worthlessness and a deep sense of being unworthy of love.

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Spis treści

A Tragedy of Fools
17
The Pastoral Norm
58
The Player King
118
The Prince of Darkness is a Gentleman
147
Notes
176
Selected Bibliography
194
Index
207
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Popularne fragmenty

Strona 98 - Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not: If you have poison for me I will drink it. I know you do not love me ; for your sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong : You have some cause, they have not. Cor. No cause, no cause.
Strona 51 - The weight of this sad time we must obey ; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most : we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Strona 154 - Hear, nature, hear; Dear goddess, hear ! Suspend thy purpose, if Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful ! Into her womb convey sterility ! Dry up in her the organs of increase; And from her derogate body never spring A babe to honor her ! If she must teem, Create her child of spleen ; that it may live, And be a thwart disnatured torment to her...
Strona 158 - I may scape, I will preserve myself: and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape, That ever penury, in contempt of man, Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth; Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; And with presented nakedness out-face The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
Strona 150 - The affliction, nor the fear. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now.
Strona 96 - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
Strona 26 - And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never!
Strona 92 - Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me : I .Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands if they say They love you all? Haply...
Strona 169 - With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are Centaurs, Though women all above : But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends' ; there's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit, burning, scalding, stench, consumption...

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