Again we wrestle with Shylock

By Eva Trieger

Eva Trieger
Eva Trieger

SAN DIEGO -What could be bad?  A summer’s night, the outdoor Lowell Davies Theater at the Old Globe, and the prospect of enjoying an evening with the Bard.  It’s a mechiah, as my Nana used to say.  Or maybe she wouldn’t have said that if she’d known we were to bear witness to The Merchant of Venice.

Artistic Director Barry Edelstein had given an invaluable lecture on Monday night at San Diego’s JCC, wherein he told us that this play was defined by vengeance.  Eric George Tauber provided an excellent recap of this discussion in a recent issue of San Diego Jewish World.  I am not usually one to seek a machlochas, or conflict of opinion, but I believe this is a story of rachmanas, mercy, and not revenge, as Edelstein stated.

In his interview with Pat Launer, our own local Barbara Walters, Edelstein gave a brilliant recap of this plot line.  A young playboy, Bassanio (Lucas Hall) eager to win the hand of the wealthy and beautiful Portia (Krystel Lucas), has gambled away all of his resources.  He appeals to his friend, Antonio (Donald Carrier), to loan him the requisite money so he may court this lovely, well endowed maid.  Antonio, who himself loves the lad, promises to give him the money.  There is a hitch.  All of Antonio’s ships are out to sea, and therefore he must borrow the ducats from his sworn enemy, none other than Shylock (Miles Anderson) the Jew.

Shylock, the moneylender, has long been a target for the Christians, perhaps because he is different from them. He is a pathetic man, craftily portrayed by Anderson.  He does not look radically disparate from his fellow Venetians, distinguished primarily by his yarmulke. This rendition yields a bit of gesticulating and his accent is slightly deviant from the others. To further demonstrate his status as an outsider, Shylock tells Bassanio that he will “not eat, drink or pray with you” because he despises Christians who have oppressed and taunted him.

Indeed, this poor man has been treated with disdain, disrespect and cruelty.  He has been subjugated and seen as less than human by the majority in Venetian society.  He has been spit on, verbally abused and made the butt of harsh jokes.  He has endured insults and offenses yet, he takes it in stride saying “Suffering is the badge of all our tribe.”  He is clinging to revenge not because he is a mean hateful cur, not because he is “wolfish” and wants to prey upon Antonio, but because he has been targeted and beaten down without reprieve.

Don’t get me wrong…Shylock is not a likeable character.  He is obsessed with his money, his brief interlude with dominance over Antonio, and his possessions.  His feelings for his daughter are too tightly wrapped up in his love for his money.  Once aware that she has run off with Lorenzo, a Christian, he mourns not for the loss of his child, but for the ducats with which she has absconded.

Is it any wonder that when Antonio defaults on the loan, Shylock wants his “bond”?  He wants to see mercy and justice done for all of the traumas he has endured.  “A pound of your fair flesh” will not even begin to repair the damage done to this man’s dignity, ego, pride, real wealth and his home now torn asunder.  Mercy, rachmanas, is denied Shylock, and Shakespeare’s “inhuman wretch” does not survive his day in court.

At the end of director Adrian Noble’s version of Shakespeare’s play, Shylock is reduced to a wraithlike apparition.  He has been stripped of all monetary possessions, any vestige of humanity, and has lost his daughter.  As a final insult, he has his yarmulke ripped off his head, demonstrating his forced conversion to Christianity.

Noble’s direction exposes the audience to difficult and uncomfortable ideas.  We are made to shift in our seats, have our allegiance whipsawed and ultimately come away pondering justice.  Yes, the play is based on greed and vengeance, but it does toy with our sense of humanity and forces us to consider mercy, for are we not all the same on the inside?  In Shylock’s speech he reminds the Venetians, as well as the audience, “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?”  Shakespeare has forsaken Shylock and mercy is withheld.

The Merchant of Venice plays through Sept. 28 at the Old Globe

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Trieger is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts. She may be contacted at eva.trieger@sdjewishworld.com