Sunday, October 2, 2011

The Fool Does Not Exist

In Shakespeare’s “King Lear,” the fool acts as a voice of reason for the king, often bluntly informing Lear of the depravity of his situation. For some reason, regardless of his biting comments, the Fool is never punished. This is because there is no one to punish. In King Lear, the fool is actually a figment of Lear’s imagination, a physical manifestation of what little sanity is left in the king’s brain.
The Fool only first appears after Lear has divided his kingdom and disowned his most loving daughter, the actions that spur his descent into madness. The appearance of the Fool simultaneously indicates that Lear’s craziness has begun while also providing the king with a sort of alter ego. This is proven when the Fool's choices mirrors Lear’s actions. The king thanks his most loyal attendant, Kent, saying, “Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There’s/ earnest of thy service,” and tips him with money (1.4, Line 93-94).” The Fool’s very first line falls right after that; he interjects, “Let me hire him too. Here’s my coxcomb,” offering his hat (1.4, Line 95). The Fool, or the figment of Lear’s imagination, and the King himself go on to have an entire conversation, until Kent speaks. He responds, “this is nothing, fool” (1.4, Line 127). He could easily be calling the King a “fool” because he is muttering to himself.
Another piece of textual evidence that indicates that the Fool is only in the King’s head is when the “Fool” confesses, “I had rather be any/ kind o’ thing than a fool; and yet I would not be thee,/ nuncle. Thou has pared thy wit o’ both sides, and left nothing i’ th’ middle” (1.4, Lines 167-170). The figment is saying that he would rather being anything but a fool at that moment, except for the king. Thus, the king as the Fool makes sense because, according to the quote, he is “taking a step up” the social ladder in a way by becoming a fool. The king escapes his past mistakes by creating a new companion is his head – one who will stand by him with subconscious wisdom even as he descends into madness. The fool even explains that the king’s “wit,” or brain was split “o’ both sides,” leaving “nothing i’ th’ middle” (1.4, Lines 167-170). This implies that the king himself is split into two figures: himself and the fool.
It is appropriate that the Fool’s last line is “And I’ll go to bed at noon” right before the king goes completely crazy, and then finally begins the ascent from his madness (3.6, Line 45). The last time the audience sees the fool, he says he’ll “go to bed,” and by the next scene, it appears that the king has gone completely mad, and thus his “voice of reason,” or the Fool, is gone. When Lear awakes and appears to be completely sane again, he admits, “I am a very foolish fond old man,” implying that the fool and himself are one again, no longer two separate entities (4.6, Line 57). He no longer needs a figment of his imagination to distinguish right from wrong.
In conclusion, the Fool is simply a figment of King Lear’s imagination, functioning as his voice of reason when it seems like madness is the only path to follow. Most of the characters, excluding Lear, hardly ever acknowledge the Fool, and not one of the king’s friends, comrades, or enemies comments on the disappearance of the Fool after Scene 3. This is because, to them, the Fool never existed at all.

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