Although they show it in different ways, Oedipus and Othello both suffer from a similar character flaw, the sin of pride. Oedipus' pride is revealed in his belief that he is greater than the gods. He believes that he is capable of establishing his own destiny apart from the gods' control or help. When the priest, at the beginning of the story, begs Oedipus to help the people in the time of famine and trouble, he states: "It was God / That aided you, men say, and you are held / With God's assistance to have saved our lives" (43-45). The priest is referring to Oedipus' answer to the riddle of the Sphinx, which delivered the people of Thebes from the Sphinx's oppression. Later, however, Oedipus' pride is revealed when, speaking of the same event, he says: "But I came, / Oedipus, who knew nothing, and I stopped her. / I solved the riddle by my wit alone" (433-35). Othello also suffers from the of pride. His pride, however, stems from his insecurity concerning his appearance and social graces. His father-in-law speaks of Othello's "sooty bosom" in reference to his blackness (1.2.69). Othello admits freely that he is "rude . . . in [his] speech" (1.3.81). And finally, insight is given to this appearance through the words of Brabantio, his father-in-law, who speaks incredulously of his daughter's love for Othello: "To fall in love with what she feared to look upon" (1.3.98). The insecurity Othello feels concerning his appearance and social graces ultimately leads to jealousy over Desdemona's love for him, yet, within this jealousy, his true fear and pride are revealed. Othello's true fear is what other people will think about him. When Iago prods him, Othello says: "My name, that was as fresh / As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black" (3.3.383-84). Later, when speaking to Desdemona, Othello whines: "But alas, to make me / The fixed figure for the time of scorn" (4. 2.53). Othello fears that other men will laugh at him because of the unfaithfulness of his wife, and his pride is what truly motivates his desire for revenge. Pride becomes the fertile ground in both Oedipus and Othello for the seeds of their destruction and ruin.
However, in the perception of Okonkwo, the main character in Chinua Achebe's novel, Things Fall Apart, the measure of a man's success is based on two elements, material acquisition and growth, and physical prowess.
At the end [of your article] you seem to be sorry that, having reduced idealism sceptically to absurdity, I shouldn't simply go back to the conventions from which the idealists started. Those conventions, as stated by the Scholastics, are contrary to naturalism: that is why they led to idealism as soon as criticism was applied to them. I have tried to profit by that experience and to state commonsense belief with more circumspection, so as not to be forced to abandon them by the treacherous elements of grammar and moralism which the Socratic School introduced into philosophy.
At the end you seem to be sorry that, having reduced idealism sceptically to absurdity, I shouldn't simply go back to the conventions from which the idealists started. Those conventions, as stated by the Scholastics, are contrary to naturalism: that is why they led to idealism as criticism was applied to them. I have tried to profit by that experience and to state commonsense beliefs with more circumspection, so as not to be forced to abandon them by the treacherous elements of grammar and moralism which the Socratic School introduced into philosophy.
For a naturalist nothing can be substantial or efficacious in thought except its organs and instruments, such as brains, training, words, and books. Actual thought, being invisible and imponderable, eludes this sort of chase. . . . The actuality of spirit, mystically momentary, does not fall within the purview of this empirical inventory any more than the realm of truth, invisibly eternal.
In the knowledge of fact there is instinctive conviction and expectation, animal faith, as well as intuition of essences ; and this faith (which is readiness to use some intuitive category), while it plunges us into a sea of presumption, conjecture, error, and doubt, at the same time sets up an ideal of knowledge, transitive and realistic, in comparison with which intuition of essence, for all its fallibility, is a mockery. We might almost say that sure knowledge, being immediate and intransitive, is not real knowledge, while real knowledge, being transitive and adventurous, is never sure.
quivering me to a new identity,
Flames and ether making a rush for my veins,
Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them,
My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly
different from myself,
On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs,
Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip,
Behaving licentious toward me, taking no denial,
Depriving me of my best as for a purpose,
Unbuttoning my clothes, holding me by the bare waist,
Deluding my confusion with the calm of the sunlight and pasture-fields,
Immodestly sliding the fellow-senses away,
They bribed to swap off with touch and go and graze at the edges of me,
No consideration, no regard for my draining strength or my anger,
Fetching the rest of the herd around to enjoy them a while,
Then all uniting to stand on a headland and worry me.
I have said that the soul is not more than the body,
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is,
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own
funeral drest in his shroud,
And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the
learning of all times,
And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it
may become a hero,
And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheel'd universe,
And I say to any man or woman, Let your soul stand cool and composed
before a million universes.
In this essay, I will argue that Macbeth reflects strict gender expectations and that the protagonists are in turn governed and constrained by these stereotypes.
I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you;)
The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great
On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms,
The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold,
The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle,
As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the
jingling of loose change,
The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the
roof, the masons are calling for mortar,
In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers;
Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it
is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!)
Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower mows,
and the winter-grain falls in the ground;
Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in
the frozen surface,
The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep
with his axe,
Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees,
Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or through
those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas,
Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or Altamahaw,
Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grandsons
In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after
their day's sport,
The city sleeps and the country sleeps,
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time,
The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife;
And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them,
And such as it is to be of these more or less I am,
And of these one and all I weave the song of myself.
Oedipus and Othello both learn through their experiences that pride is a destructive vice indeed, and that men who choose to be proud are destined for great suffering in this life. Blind Oedipus and dead Othello, who feared even greater suffering beyond the grave, are true tragic heroes in their final state, for it is here that people can look upon them and learn what they learned only too late. Pride is deadly.