Jamie, 10/5/11

Evaluate the gothic significance of the victims

It is without doubt that victims play an important role in Gothicism in order to qualify the sinister evil itself so important to the genre and it will be interesting to evaluate their significance in the three texts.

In ‘Paradise Lost’, the victim is used to subvert the reader’s conventional moral allegiances: “but O how fallen! how changed”, Satan remarks on seeing his chief angel/devil Beelzebub after their defeat. His deep emotion – of regret, shock or sadness – is evident in the capitalised ‘O’, which is the only word in poetry which can be read to any length of time one wishes. This could help to involve the reader in Satan’s emotional response as they are encouraged to judge for themselves how to interpret the sequence – this would thus cement the effect that having Satan as the first protagonist has on tilting our early sympathies towards him. This is despite the fact that we are reminded that they are “fallen”, yet the apparent anguish experienced by Satan on recognizing the ‘change’ could command our emotion in favour of him, instead of inviting us to view it as a deserved punishment for his deed. Satan’s victimhood also provides opportunity for the entry of feelings of the Sublime in the poem, as the repetition of ‘how’ is indicative of God’s sublime and almost terrifying omnipotence, especially significant for readers in the 1600s who were far more likely to take his powers literally, and here they could be reminded of his omniscience, playing on humans’ psychological preponderance to fear that some unknown – or deified – force is watching us, developed during evolution to protect against sneak attack, but effectively utilized here through Satan’s great defeat to unnerve the reader and encourage terror through the sublime whilst inviting us to side with the evil force of darkness.

In ‘Macbeth’ the blurring of just which characters are the true victims is used to enhance supernatural aspects of the text: “his gash’d stabs look’d like a breach in nature...All is but toys”. It is certain that one aspect of this apparent remorse could be to remove suspicion that he committed the murder, this duplicity furthering his evil and the obscurity which shrouds his actions as he looks like the “innocent flower” but is in fact the “serpent”, perhaps aligning him with the devil. Thus the King would be the victim, confirming the corruption of the natural order and the bloody destruction of the divine right of Kings, as exemplified by Duncan’s “gash’d stabs”, the implied violence of which could increase the horror for the audience, especially in view of the relatively precarious nature of Kingship in the 1600s, the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 giving way to the execution of Charles I in 1649, thus making the scene historically relevant for contemporary readers. However, the “gash’d stabs” might also imply a rather botched attempt at a clean kill, as the choice of ‘gash’d’ would indicate messy wounds, suggesting that Macbeth was already feeling uncomfortable or queasy on performing the act. This could implicate the witches’ ultimate influence in proving the impetus for it, and lead to Macbeth himself also being viewed as a victim. From one perspective, this might lead us to sympathise more with the protagonist. Further, however, the perspective of Macbeth as noble but corrupted, enchanted or manipulated could force us to question our own psychology or that of humanity in general and confront our uncomfortable weaknesses. The presence of the witches is further substantiated by the description of Duncan’s wounds as “a breach in nature” which suggests that they, through Macbeth their vessel, have torn through the natural fabric of the world. This could lead to a terrible and terrifying anticipation of what else is lurking on the other side of this ‘breach’, as it presages the future disturbing bloodshed to come, but the audience’s state of ignorance creates a keen sense of gothic obscurity. Indeed the word ‘breach’ has connotations of holes in dams, an uncontrollable gush of water and the destruction of barriers. Thus Macbeth’s and Duncan’s shared victimhood potentially enhances the gothic supernatural and subversive elements of the play.

Similarly in ‘Wuthering Heights’, the passing-on of victimhood helps to undermine our traditional literary and social notions of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ qualities and people: “I might have the privilege of flinging Joseph off the highest gable and painting the house-front with Hindley’s blood”. Coming from the mouth of a boy, Heathcliff, this is a shockingly honest admission of his great thirst for revenge – which he later admits is the only thing which allows him to endure his son, Linton. The theme of revenge here makes it difficult to simply view this state of mind as evil, but makes us question to what extent nurture can corrupt and distort one’s nature, particularly with regards to ‘Hindley’s’ treatment of the young Heathcliff. With reference to “blood”, this could presage Heathcliff’s later oppression of Hareton, creating a new victim and enhancing the circular narrative aspect of the novel. However, the apparently-violent nature of this envisaged revenge could, from this perspective, also be taken more metaphorically, perhaps presaging the fact that the Heights will again fall into the possession of Hindley’s blood, Hareton – despite the “wilderness of weeds” that Heathcliff attempts to nurture in him.

Nevertheless, the most shocking interpretation of his exclamation is the most literal, the word ‘flinging’ indicative of the force of feeling that he is experiencing when imagining his revenge. Interestingly, Joseph is not in fact specifically victimised by Heathcliff, with also calls into doubt Heathcliff’s revenge, despite his eventual destruction of Hindley. Still, his chilling presence affects all those around him, who describe him as an “imp of Satan”, “a fierce, pitiless wolfish man” and question “is he man?”. It is this uncertainty and mystery surrounding his person which he cultivates after his mistreatment that lend much of the Gothicism to his character. Yet this is perhaps accentuated by his basic humanity and his heightened awareness of this: “the tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him, they crush those beneath them” – this seemingly describes his own situation and is a stark reminder that evil ways can be learnt, or acquired from one’s position. This could have been uncomfortable for readers in the 1800s – and today – whose justice system relies on personal responsibility, rather than blaming the system. Indeed, as the prison study indicated, corroborating evidence from the Nazi extermination of the Jews in WW2, almost any human being can be manipulated in such a way, giving Heathcliff’s words a chilling edge today, as well as being contemporaneously relevant with the Slave Trade abolished in 1833. This is only furthered when one considers he rose to such heights of evil and terror for his acquaintances from the position of victim, showing how ‘Wuthering Heights’ could even be said to subvert the traditional Gothic victim as weak and powerless, rather than as the next source of pain.