In his introduction to Coriolanus, the Riverside scholar Frank Kermode posits that "this inhospitable play is one of the supreme tests of a genuine understanding of Shakespeare's achievement." Like, damn, man, way to intimidate us right out of the gate. His argument is thus:
We never feel the author allows the hero to come very close to him or to us, but in spite of his keeping Coriolanus at a critical arm's length, Shakespeare can rarely have more fully extended his powers than he does here.
Either "get" this play or you don't deserve to lick Shakespeare's boot. Seriously. When I first read this one ages ago, I was struck by how NOT PREPARED I was for its dark-matter-level density, or how intensely and truthfully cynical it is. It's a red-hot blade of unobtanium. Even the most dogged defender of democracy would blanch at the timelessly relevant commentary Shakespeare presents about the cutthroat sausage factory we know as democratic political theatre. He simultaneously picks democracy apart and admonishes the aristocratic values of its characters, so we can't be entirely sure if he is anti-democratic or anti-aristocracy. And it does so with steely insights sharpened and honed with precision by the relentless rhetoric.
It is exasperating how non-political Shakespeare is in his writing, even when his stories are unapologetically political, which makes a play like Coriolanus that much more slippery. You only grasp it when you stop squeezing. The one definite stance that Shakespeare ever really makes about democracy in all his plays is that the Mob is fickle, which is totally true. He also portrays the Mob as this wall of water that will totally drown you and everyone else for no particular reason, which ironically makes it egalitarian. As long as you are Moses, you'll survive, but even a skilled sea-splitter like Marc Antony is no Moses in the end. The Citizen crowds in Coriolanus, however, are a bit more nuanced than the usual Mob, as we shall see.
I respect this play and even love it because it's difficult. It's hard to feel for any of the characters, but we still think we understand where they're coming from. Even without soliloquies and asides, their motivations are worn on their sleeves at all times. There are no Iagos or Edmunds or Richard IIIs in this play (Volumnia is certainly trying but she's really obvious and doesn't make any attempt whatsoever to pretend she isn't manipulating anyone). People are nakedly power-hungry, or, in the Citizens' case, just plain hungry. For corn.
ACT I
"Mutinous citizens" of Rome come out into the street to whinge about the price of corn. They blame the senate for hoarding and also, they hate on Caius Martius, an aristocratic general who has been busy soldiering all his life. They debate about his intentions, some saying he's a momma's boy (which he is) and others thinks he's not all that bad. Menenius the patrician enters, and starts to defend his friend Martius before the people. They listen to him because he's pretty self-deprecating. Menenius tries to chill everyone out with his metaphors about the body of the Roman state (Rome ALWAYS has bodily metaphors) and how its parts shouldn't rebel against the belly where all the food is stored:
Note me this, good friend;
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:
'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he,
'That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the store-house and the shop
Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain;
And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live: and though that all at once,
You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,--
'Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flour of all,
And leave me but the bran.'
Menenius says that the Gods are to blame for all the shit lately, not the politicians. Just then, Martius comes and complains about the fickleness of the people:
What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
To make him worthy whose offence subdues him
And curse that justice did it.
Who deserves greatness
Deserves your hate; and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours swims with fins of lead
And hews down oaks with rushes.
He's a fucking snob and a half, but he's not wrong about the Mob. He hates that the lowly people are being given representation in the senate (oh how dare they!). A messenger reports that the Volsces, a rebelling army, are edgy and ready to fight. A bunch of Senators come and request that Martius go assist the other generals to defend Rome. Martius says that the Volscian general--Tullus Aufidius--is a longtime (fr)enemy of his, and that "He is a lion That I am proud to hunt."
Some of the people's Tribunes (Sicinius and Brutus, who for all their distinguishability, are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern) discuss Martius' overweening pride.
In Corioles, Aufidius talks with his soldiers about the spies he has in Rome. He is super pumped that he will meet Martius in battle.
Back at Martius' house, his wife Virgilia and his mother Volumnia sit around sewing. Virgilia is upset that her husband is always off at war and hope he stays safe but Volumnia couldn't be more proud of him:
...if my son were my husband, I
should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he
won honour than in the embracements of his bed where
he would show most love. When yet he was but
tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when
youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when
for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not
sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering
how honour would become such a person. that it was
no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if
renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek
danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel
war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows
bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not
more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child
than now in first seeing he had proved himself a
man...
...had I a dozen sons, each in my love
alike and none less dear than thine and my good
Martius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their
country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
Damn, lady, you have a heart of iron, for sure. But she saves her most shocking image for last:
it more becomes a man
Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
At Grecian sword, contemning.
Gross.
Virgilia's girlfriend Valeria comes and attempts to make light conversation, and she says she saw Young Martius fooling around with a butterfly recently, basically catching and releasing it a bunch of times before crushing it. Volumnia proudly says the boy is a chip off the old block. Because you know, they didn't think animal cruelty was a red flag for psychopathy back then. Valeria makes an effort to drag Virgilia out on the town and have some fun, but she just can't--not with her husband out in the war. Valeria compares her to Ulysses's chaste wife Penelope and gives up.
Before Corioles, Martius and Titus Lartius, another general, try to parley at the gate, but the Volsces come out and attack. The Roman soldiers flee and Martius gets righteously pissed at their cowardice:
You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues
Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
Further than seen and one infect another
Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,
Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
And make my wars on you: look to't: come on;
If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
As they us to our trenches followed.
PLUTO AND HELL! Cocktail name, perhaps?
Martius runs into the city by himself, leaving his soldiers in wonderment at his bravery. Before we know it, the Romans begin to loot the town while Martius grumbles about how his soldiers would rather fight for money than for honor. Martius still wants Aufidius' blood, so he runs off to find him. Martius finds Cominius, another general, instead, and reports on how they attacked the Volsces. Martius asks that he be set against Aufidius himself and he will be victorious. Cominius says be my guest, dude, and take whatever men you need. Martius speechifies to convince the men to follow him:
Those are they
That most are willing. If any such be here--
As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;
If any think brave death outweighs bad life
And that his country's dearer than himself;
Let him alone, or so many so minded,
Wave thus, to express his disposition,
And follow Martius.
Martius finally finds Aufidius and they are equally spoiling for a fight. They tussle a while, but Aufidius' men try to help him and he condemns his men for getting involved, so he loses by forfeit?
Cominius hears the Volsces' retreat alarum and declares victory. Martius comes and he praises him to the heavens while Martius begs him not to do that as it embarrasses him. They insist on pouring on the commendations and Cominius announces that Martius, for destroying the Volsces at Corioles, will from now on be known as "Coriolanus!" It's really the most fortunate name ever. So fun to say in mixed company. The bloody general asks that the man within the city who helped him be freed unharmed, and Cominius says sure why not what's his name and Coriolanus chides himself for not catching it because he's always been bad at reading the room.
Aufidius licks his wounds and recalls how the five times he's encountered Martius, he has been defeated. He swears to get him next time. He commands a soldier to spy in Rome and monitor the state of things in the meantime.
ACT II
Sicinius and Brutus, the people's tribunes, go back and forth about how proud Martius is, saying "Nature teaches the beasts to know their friends." Menenius berates them, asking what the F Martius has done that's worse than anything they have done themselves. He tells them that they cannot see the pride in themselves and would rather bicker over petty things than actually do anything substantial. I mean, he's not wrong.
Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria show up, and Volumnia announces that her son is returning to Rome and "he is wounded, I thank the gods fo't." They all watch as the man of the hour returns so Cominius and all the rest can greet him as the hero he is for single-handedly protecting Rome from the Volsces. Cominius officially confers the title "Coriolanus" upon him for taking Corioles. The newly minted Coriolanus would rather not be praised in public, but when he sees his mother, he kneels to her. He greets his wife as "My gracious silence" (which is her most distinguishing feature) and wonders why she weeps at his return. Volumnia says that all he needs to do now is go to the Capitol and see if he can run for consul of the people, which is a big damn deal. Coriolanus says "I had rather be their servant in my way Than sway with them in theirs."
Brutus and Sicinius note what just happened and think that while the people may say they will vote for him now, they can convince them otherwise by pointing out Coriolanus' lack of humility and hatred for the common folk.
Some Officers gossip about Coriolanus and debate his skill for politics:
Faith, there had been many great men that have
flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there
be many that they have loved, they know not
wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why,
they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for
Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate
him manifests the true knowledge he has in their
disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets
them plainly see't.
They agree that he's served Rome well as a soldier anyway. And war-time Rome needs a war-time consul.
A quick bit of background regarding Roman politics: a consul was the highest elected office (whenever Rome wasn't an Empire) and Patricians (aristocrats) nominated men while the Plebians got to directly vote on the nominees through conventions. Usually, there were two consuls, but during war-time there could be special elections where only one consul is chosen so they have absolute power over the army, therefore, it was common practice to nominate generals and high-ranking officials who have climbed their way up the ranks. At one point, Plebians were allowed to run for this office, and obviously, the Patricians had their own haughty thoughts about this. Consuls were elected every year but were often replaced more than that due to war or assassinations and some such shit. So as far as this play goes, we can probably assume the last consul died during the battles of this ongoing Volscsian war.
Patricians, Tribunes, Menenius, Cominius, and Coriolanus enter so that Cominius can laud Coriolanus in front of everyone. Because we haven't done enough of that already. Coriolanus refuses to stay for this part, and it's not clear whether this is his inverted pride or actual embarrassment at being praised publicly. Brutus and Sicinius see it as the former. Cominius lists Coriolanus' great achievements for a good while and explains that he'd make a great consul because he cares not for the spoils of war and finds reward enough in service. Coriolanus reappears and sheepishly says he does not wish to go forward with the usual custom of dressing in humble weeds, shaking hands, and kissing babies. Brutus marks Coriolanus' attitude, even as Coriolanus relents and agrees to do it.
A bunch of Citizens gab about the merits and demerits of Coriolanus before he arrives to humbly ask for their "voices" in the vote. One of the Citizens astutely points this out:
our wits are so diversely coloured: and
truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of
one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south,
and their consent of one direct way should be at
once to all the points o' the compass.
As an American, I could not agree more.
Coriolanus whispers to Menenius how much he resents having to debase himself before the people and show his wounds and ask for their votes and all that shit. Between clenched teeth, Coriolanus goes around and asks for their voices. One Citizen points out that while Coriolanus has served the country well, he seems to have no love for the common people. He responds with "You should account me the more virtuous that I have not been common in my love." After a bit more of this, the Citizens leave and Coriolanus gets to breathe:
Most sweet voices!
Better it is to die, better to starve,
Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,
To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear,
Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't:
What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
And mountainous error be too highly heapt
For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so,
Let the high office and the honour go
To one that would do thus. I am half through;
The one part suffer'd, the other will I do.
Here come more voices.
Your voices: for your voices I have fought;
Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear
Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
I have seen and heard of; for your voices have
Done many things, some less, some more your voices:
Indeed I would be consul.
Here's where Coriolanus, despite not having any soliloquies whatsoever and barely an aside to give us a sense of his inner life, shows us his cards. He is clearly being roped into doing this by his mother and his friends, and he knows that he is not cut out for politics but they push him anyway. He feels he has been bred to be a soldier and he does his job well and that should be enough to convince people that he's a good man. Clearly, he cannot be a good consul because he's an atrocious politician, but everyone is making him feel like to be considered a good man, he needs to be good at ALL THE THINGS. As Marjorie Garber argues, Coriolanus suffers an existential crisis in a way, for this is where his estrangement from his own sense of self starts to reach a tipping point. She interestingly uses Erving Goffman's sociological theory about the presentation of self in everyday action to reveal the crux Coriolanus' turmoil: he cannot reconcile his selfhood with what others think of him. The theme of estrangement continues to dog him for the rest of the play.
After Coriolanus has had enough, he leaves and Brutus and Sicinius stay behind to deftly turn the crowd against Coriolanus despite their previous endorsement. They all too easily twist their perception of Coriolanus' interaction with them. Now, while it is true that Coriolanus looks down his nose at the common people ("Bid them wash their faces And keep their teeth clean" he says to Menenius only seconds before meeting the Citizens), he never really wanted their votes in the first place, and would be happier to keep on soldiering forever. Volumnia, who has more balls than almost anyone, and intuitive Menenius are the ones grooming him to be more than he wants to be. It's always said that the people who don't want power are the ones who should have it, but in this case, Coriolanus would be dreadful because he is a total prig. He's not perfect for this job and only he and all the commonwealth know it. He's inside the tent pissing out, and he feels he's too good for the tent and deserves to be left alone inside the house.
Before the act finishes, Brutus and Sicinius' tirade against Coriolanus flies off the page and lodges in my mind and heart as an uncannily timely assertion given my country's current administration:
BRUTUS: Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends,
They have chose a consul that will from them take
Their liberties; make them of no more voice
Than dogs that are as often beat for barking
As therefore kept to do so.
SICINIUS: Let them assemble,
And on a safer judgment all revoke
Your ignorant election; enforce his pride,
And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not
With what contempt he wore the humble weed,
How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves,
Thinking upon his services, took from you
The apprehension of his present portance,
Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
After the inveterate hate he bears you.
This sounds heartbreakingly familiar. The Mob, all whipped up in a frenzy about Coriolanus, repent its decision, knowing there's still time to recant. Sicinius smugly says they will follow the crowd:
To the Capitol, come:
We will be there before the stream o' the people;
And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own,
Which we have goaded onward.
Assholes.
ACT III
Coriolanus gossips with Lartius and Cominius about Aufidius. He literally asks them what Aufidius has said about him and where he's living now, like they're exes who aren't speaking to one another. It's touching.
Brutus and Sicinius find Coriolanus and inform him that the Citizens have changed their minds. Coriolanus calls the Mob "children" and "herd" and he insists on going out to change their minds again but Menenius stops him, saying he's too angry to speak with any tact. Coriolanus bursts out with all his contempt:
O good but most unwise patricians! why,
You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
Given Hydra here to choose an officer,
That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but
The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit
To say he'll turn your current in a ditch,
And make your channel his? ...
...Let deeds express
What's like to be their words: 'we did request it;
We are the greater poll, and in true fear
They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase
The nature of our seats and make the rabble
Call our cares fears; which will in time
Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in
The crows to peck the eagles...
...Therefore, beseech you,--
You that will be less fearful than discreet,
That love the fundamental part of state
More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer
A noble life before a long, and wish
To jump a body with a dangerous physic
That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison
He really hates the commoners. the Tribunes call for officers to arrest Coriolanus for his treasonous words against the state, and the Mob attacks, so Coriolanus draws his sword, but miraculously Menenius manages to extract him from the fray and calm shit down enough to send him back to his home. A Patrician tells Menenius that Coriolanus has "marr'd his fortune" and Menenius says
His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.
No shit. Menenius continues to argue with the Tribunes, who compare Coriolanus to a diseased limb that must be cut away. Menenius responds:
O, he's a limb that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost--
Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country;
And what is left, to lose it by his country,
Were to us all, that do't and suffer it,
A brand to the end o' the world.
Menenius promises to talk to Coriolanus and convince him to come back and apologize for his behavior.
Coriolanus has had enough and gives no more fucks about politics. Volumnia comes and he asks her why the F she would wish him to act differently than he's been taught to act and she says
You might have been enough the man you are,
With striving less to be so; lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions, if
You had not show'd them how ye were disposed
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.
To this he spits "Let them hang" and she adds "Ay and burn too." Menenius says Coriolanus has to go back out there and mend his words. Volumnia agrees and further prods him with her political wisdom to do this thing.
...for in such business
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
More learned than the ears--waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
Now humble as the ripest mulberry
That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,
In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
As thou hast power and person...
To this he says
Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
Must I with base tongue give my noble heart
A lie that it must bear?
Volumnia says "So what? Just fucking do it already." He finally gives in to her and goes out, with Cominius and Menenius reminding him to do it "mildly."
Sicinius and Brutus coach the Mob on how to push Coriolanus' buttons when he returns. Coriolanus arrives, praying to himself that Rome be blessed with peace. Hat in hand, he attempts to apologize but the moment he speaks, Sicinius proposes he be banished, and the Mob accuses him of being a "traitor." At that word, Coriolanus loses it completely and curses the fate of Rome and its Citizens:
You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair! Have the power still
To banish your defenders; till at length
Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
Making not reservation of yourselves,
Still your own foes, deliver you as most
Abated captives to some nation
That won you without blows! Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere.
He leaves and the Citizens and Tribunes cheer.
DAYUM. Politics is HARD.
ACT IV
Coriolanus almost too happily bids farewell to his family and friends. He even asks his mother where all her balls have gone:
Where is your ancient courage? you were used
To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
That common chances common men could bear;
That when the sea was calm all boats alike
Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves
A noble cunning: you were used to load me
With precepts that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.
Ohhh sick burn. Volumnia is DYING inside and out and Coriolanus is just like *shrug* I'm sure y'all will miss me when I'm gone. He tells his wife he'll be fine and asks Cominius and Menenius not to cry. He likens himself to a dragon that people fear and talk about more than they see him. Cominius even volunteers to go with him and Coriolanus says Cominius too old for that shit.
Meanwhile, the Tribunes gloat to each other about how awesome a job they did banishing Coriolanus and showing up the nobility. They encounter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius and they have an altercation, with Volumnia and Menenius mostly lobbing insults and threats. Volumnia says "Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding." Yum.
A Roman spy meets a Volsce in the street and he informs him about the upheaval in Rome and how Coriolanus has been banished. They are sure this is an auspicious time for Aufidius to attack.
Coriolanus roams around Antium, looking for Aufidius' house. Someone directs him to it and he enters, meeting some of Aufidius' servingmen, who try to kick him out. He fights back and Aufidius comes, asking who the F is this? Coriolanus unmuffles himself and declares:
Martius Coriolanus!
My name is Martius Coriolanus!
People say I'm most heinous
But I'm just great, I'm just great!
I couldn't resist. Actually it goes like this:
My name is Caius Martius, who hath done
To thee particularly and to all the Volsces
Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service,
The extreme dangers and the drops of blood
Shed for my thankless country are requited
But with that surname; a good memory,
And witness of the malice and displeasure
Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains;
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop'd out of Rome.
He goes on to say that if he feared death, he would never have come to Aufidius, obviously, but that he only came to either be killed or offer his service to the Volsces and gain revenge upon Rome. Aufidius is so moved by this revelation that he embraces Coriolanus in respect, saying
O Martius, Martius!
Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
A root of ancient envy...
...Know thou first,
I loved the maid I married; never man
Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,
Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
Bestride my threshold.
Someone has a mancrush! All that violent hate sublimated into passion. Aufidius takes Coriolanus in to shake hands with the Volscsian senators and make plans for attack while some servingmen stay behind and chew the fat over this new addition to their army. They are all clearly taken with Coriolanus' presence and physical prowess and how he is so strong that he bested Aufidius at Corioles. They all admit they have hardons for this new general, which makes them drool for war:
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as
day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and
full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy;
mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more
bastard children than war's a destroyer of men...
Reason; because they then less need one another.
It's always surprising to see Shakespeare insert some of his most insightful logic into the mouths of nameless characters, hidden away, daring some stage director to cut out an entire scene to shorten a production's overall length, but at the price of losing some diamonds in the rough. These guys are saying "War is better than peace because it makes people band together." It's cynical and true. But it also proves that the opposite of war is not peace, it's play, because play requires people to band together for positive purpose.
Back in Rome, Sicinius and Brutus talk about how everything's fine, just FINE and dandy now that Coriolanus is gone. Tradesmen are singing, people are friendly, it's FINE. Menenius arrives and they give him shit for being wrong about banishing Coriolanus because everything is FINE. But news comes from an Aedile (officer) that a spy was captured and he spilled that Coriolanus has joined with Aufidius. Both of the Tribunes shit their pants. A Messenger confirms this report and all the Senators are going to discuss how Coriolanus and Aufidius are planning an attack on Rome because he "vows revenge as spacious as between The young'st and oldest thing." The Tribunes both say "Yeah right you're just saying that to sow doubt in the minds of the masses." Cominius comes and says the attack has already begun and that
He [Coriolanus] is their god: he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence
Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
Or butchers killing flies.
Menenius yells at the Tribunes, saying this is all their fault, that they are THE WORST for making such a hullabaloo about Coriolanus' banishment. Some Citizens come in and all say they felt it was a pity when they banished him:
to say the truth, so did very
many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and
though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet
it was against our will.
My initial reaction to this was OH SURE. Yeah it was against your will. RIIIIIIGHT. But actually, the Tribunes, being politicians, did, in fact, actively sow doubt in their minds during the marketplace scene after they did the meet-n-greet with Coriolanus. It was only after Sicinius and Brutus poured a bit of poison in their ears that they changed their minds about making him consul. Manipulation! Fake news! UGHHHH. At least this separates this Mob from the ones in Julius Caesar or in Henry VI, who seemed to be just a beast with no head. This Roman Mob is more perceptive.
Everyone goes off to hear the latest and the Tribunes both say they'd sell their souls for this trash to not be true.
Aufidius and his Lieutenant chat alone about their plans. Aufidius admits that he couldn't have predicted how much of an influence Coriolanus would have on his men, but that he completely accepts Coriolanus for what he is, unlike his mother, who would try to change him:
He bears himself more proudlier,
Even to my person, than I thought he would
When first I did embrace him: yet his nature
In that's no changeling; and I must excuse
What cannot be amended.
How sweet of him to love his boyfriend just the way he is!
Aufidius compares him to a dragon, as Coriolanus fancies himself, and says he believes the Roman general will be as a "osprey to the fish" and take Rome "by sovereignty of nature." Aufidius seems to wistfully meditate upon human nature then, adding
So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time:
And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
To extol what it hath done.
One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
Aufidius seems to be the only guy with a level head around here.
ACT V
Menenius, Cominius, and the Tribunes have a meeting about what the F to do now. Menenius refuses to meet with Coriolanus despite being a father figure to him. Cominius said he tried to talk to him already:
Yet one time he did call me by my name:
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to: forbade all names;
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire
Of burning Rome.
Coriolanus is totally dissociated from his old self and will not be reasoned with. The Tribunes beg Menenius as their last hope to treat with Coriolanus and he eventually, reluctantly agrees. He goes to it and Cominius shakes his head and says this won't work and they need to send for the Three Vs as a backup plan.
Menenius is led by some Watchmen to Coriolanus's camp. Menenius has to convince them that he's Coriolanus' old buddy and then he asks if he has dined already, for he knows that "With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls." Good old Menenius--always obsessed with bellies and food. Coriolanus comes out with Aufidius and Menenius immediately praises him and begs him to call off the Volscian army. Coriolanus just says "Away!" and "Wife, mother, child I know not." He adds that "Mine ears against your suits are stronger than Your gates against my force" and gives Menenius a letter to bring back to Rome.
Coriolanus consults with Aufidius, saying they will proceed with the attack plans and that no embassies from Rome will change his mind. Just then, Volumnia, Virgilia, Valeria and his son Young Martius show up. Coriolanus says "Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow In the same time 'tis made? I will not." Yeah we'll see about that.
As the women come to him, he says "My wife comes foremost" which might be a stage direction and/or a clue to his heart:
What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a molehill should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries 'Deny not.'
He fights his feels and swears again to attack Rome:
I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
As if a man were author of himself
And knew no other kin.
And here is the crux of Coriolanus' entire existential problem. He now fancies himself a self-made man, who doesn't require anyone else in life to get shit done. All the metaphors about butterflies in youth and growing to a dragon as an adult point toward his development from innocence moulded by his mother and his country to be a war machine (and an excellent one at that), which he originally believed is what he was put on this earth to be, thus his extreme disinclination to be a politician. But his nature and his country betrayed him, and he had to find another way to stand on his own: joining forces and finding solace with his enemy, who ironically, is the only person who understands his manly warmongering. It's "Nature teaches the beasts to know their friends" again.
Virgilia, the lady of few words, greets him as "Lord and husband!" and he melts even more:
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say
For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Earlier, he abhorred the concept of "acting" as a politician but now even he realizes that his original identity is an act, which is some Inception-level mental crap to deal with.
He goes to kneel before Volumnia and begs his knee to sink into the earth. Volumnia tells him to get up and she kneels before him, which just freaks him out even more. She praises him and shows him his son, and Coriolanus begs them not to beg him. He insists that their pleas not be heard in private, so all the Volsces and Aufidius remain. Volumnia launches into a lengthy speech about how hard life has been for his family since he left, and that they have no comfort as long as he is not defending Rome. She shames him for wanting to destroy the country, which would be like treading over her womb. Virgilia says it would be like treading on hers as well, and that he owes gratitude to both of them for giving him life and a son. His son speaks for a line, saying he won't be tread upon and will fight.
Coriolanus cannot speak this entire time, but then he finally and rises. Volumnia insists that a truce be made between Rome and the Volsces, so that it won't be said that
'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr'd.'
She appeals to her son's sense of legacy and pleads with him to speak, asks Virgilia to stop crying, and demands the boy to say something, anything. They are silent.
There's no man in the world
More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i' the stocks.
She continues, saying that if she was a bad mother to him, that he send them away now. They all kneel, but she gives up, saying they will go back to Rome and die. But the boy holds his hands up in supplication and she begs some more. Then she insults him:
Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
And then I'll speak a little.
At this, he takes her hand. This entire time, stage directions could be read in her lines, and Coriolanus' reaction to his mother's words are, at best, merely implied. He finally speaks:
O mother, mother!
What have you done?
Is he angry? Is he broken? Is he frail? Coriolanus knows he's a dead man. He admits that Volumnia is the one who has won victory for Rome, for he is convinced to stand down. He is ashamed at his weakness and ultimate failure to even be himself (his name is "Martius" after the God of War, after all):
CORIOLANUS: Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
AUFIDIUS: I was moved withal.
Aufidius, the real heartless war general, is moved by Volumnia's pleas. Yes, he was moved. Moved that his mancrush vacillated and betrayed his adopted army who took him in when Rome banished him. Aufidius was moved. Moved to anger.
Coriolanus sends the ladies home, saying that a temple should be built to honor them.
Back in Rome, Menenius frets about their hopes to Sicinius:
There is differency between a grub and a butterfly;
yet your butterfly was a grub. This Martius is grown
from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a
creeping thing.
Butterflies and dragons. Menenius says about Coriolanus that "there is no more mercy
in him than there is milk in a male tiger." Just then, a few Messengers come and say that the Three Vs have prevailed and the Volsces are retreating. Menenius can hardly believe it:
This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full.
We all agree by now that she's got the biggest cahones on the planet. Everyone celebrates the ladies' awesomeness.
Back at Corioles, Aufidius awaits Coriolanus' return. He sends a Messenger with a letter to the town's Lords. Three Conspirators meet him and he tells them how butthurt he is about Coriolanus' betrayal. He lists all the things they did together and how he was merciful when Coriolanus presented his throat to him and all he got in return was this lousy t-shirt with women's tears all over it.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall.
The Lords of Corioles come and agree with Aufidius' letter, which was essentially a promise to bring Coriolanus to trial. Coriolanus arrives and says he has signed the treaty with Rome but is no more loved by his hometown anyway and he wants to return to Aufidius' service. Aufidius calls him the magic word "traitor" and Coriolanus panics. Aufidius calls him by his original name, shocking his old pal.
Ay, Martius, Caius Martius: dost thou think
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?
You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roar'd away your victory,
That pages blush'd at him and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.
Aufidius calls him a "boy" and Coriolanus is undone:
Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:
Alone I did it. Boy!
Aufidius' conspirators attack Coriolanus, to the horror of the Lords, and Aufidius gives no fucks. He had to kill Coriolanus, though it grieved him, because even in betrayal, he still respected him. They carry him away, and Aufidius says he should be treated with honors.
Is Coriolanus naught but an animal conditioned into his role? Underneath all the hand-wringing over the pros and cons of democracy, there's the question of how mankind can ethically revere war and train men to kill. Coriolanus is clearly no killing machine as he was originally painted. He had humility earlier in his life, but somewhere along the way, as he grew more skilled at something he was not actually born to be, he sublimated it into inverted pride. He wishes that he were just a heartless soldier, but it takes all of a few seconds for him to "melt" at the sight of his family. Coriolanus despised Aufidius all these years because Aufidius couldn't be melted by anything but Coriolanus himself. Then it was like the old Groucho Marx joke about not wanting to be part of a club that would admit him; Coriolanus respected his enemies for hating him because he hated himself.
Aufidius, paradoxically, is the most relatable character in the whole play. He's the only one who spouts off inner thoughts and wisdoms about how his life is going. He was the only one who seemed to "get" Coriolanus, even as he had him brutally slain. Aufidius was also unshakably honest when Coriolanus was flaky. He may have been a better Consul for Rome. Scratch that; they should just nominate Volumnia. She's clearly their ideal, whether they like it or not.
Let's talk about Ralph Fiennes' movie, Coriolanus (2011). This is one of the finest film adaptations of Shakespeare there is. I gotta hand it to Ralph, who directed as well as took on this difficult title role. He really seemed to nail him, and even made this nearly impenetrable character penetrable. He roped in some of the finest actors for his stable: Brian Cox, Gerard Butler, Jessica Chastain, Vanessa Redgrave, and even James Nesbitt (as one of the Tribunes) were all perfectly cast. It feels effortlessly translated into our modern era of contentious disputes in perpetually war-torn countries over precious commodities. The people, watching all this splashed onto TVs as fodder for the 24-hour-news cycle, may just as well have been protesting over access to oil instead of grain. Everyone brings their own gravitas that lends much-needed depth for these surface-level characters, and deservedly so, since this play, while grave and dark, deserves a good injection of humanity when it leaves the page. It's quite the tour de force. Check it out.
Back in June, National Theatre Live, in an effort to promote charitable giving in the midst of theatre closings due to this fucking pandemic, posted the taped stage production of Coriolanus from 2014. It was up on Youtube for a week for FREE and I was thrilled to have gotten a chance to see it. I've been jonesing to get a glimpse of this one for years now, not least because Hiddleston is drenched with blood and water and despite his questionable dating decisions in the past, he is still a fabulous actor to watch in everything. Compared with the the Fiennes film, it's way more confusing, unfortunately. It crams what feels like every word of the text in there and it was even easy for me to get lost at times. Mark Gatiss played Menenius, which was just a stroke of genius piece of casting. I also liked that they didn't shy entirely away from some of the homoerotic overtones between Aufidius and Coriolanus. It was hot. I wish this were more freely available on DVD or streaming, because casting a big star like Thomas could really serve to raise more awareness and appreciation for this underrated play.
Oh boy, am I glad I did the swap this week. Next week, I'm do my best to cover all my thoughts surrounding Antony and Cleopatra despite the stresses of finally returning to working at the office since March. Pray for us school personnel. I'll try to distract my sense of dread by reading a play about Roman wars and dying by suicide. That should help.
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