Hi guys. This is my first ever go at Shakespeare's 'Othello'.
Basically, at school, in English we are studying this and 'The Merchant of Venice'. We're going to do a Controlled Assessment (GCSE) soon on Othello and Shylock, comparing how they are disturbed. This is a semi analysis of Act 5 Scene 2, the speech with Othello. I've added a bit in and It's really me trying to get into his head. So enjoy…
Disturbance
I enter our chambers. She is asleep. I can see the slow and steady rise and fall of her chest.
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,-
I must do it. I need to remind my soul that I must do it. I have to kill her. She has committed a terrible crime and it is the cause of her downfall.
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!—
Her crime in my eyes is so horrible. What she has done is a terrible deed. I cannot repeat it ever.
It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;
I know I told her that I when I kill her, I will make sure the sheets are bloody. But I can't do that.
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
Her skin is so perfect. How I wish I can have her skin. She looks like an angel.
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
When I feel her skin, I find it unblemished. Just like a marble statue.
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
I must focus on the task ahead. I mustn't get distracted. She must die and I will have to do the deed.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
I need to put out the light. I can't see what I'm doing. To be able to do this, I need to make sure I can't see what I'm doing.
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Yet, if I blow out the candle light, I can simply relight it again if I feel later on that it is a mistake.
Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,
If only I could repent. I want to repent, not have to carry out justice.
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
Prometheus stole light from the Greek Gods to give to the humans. With his cunning, he can relight Desdemona's light. But I can't. For I am no cunning Prometheus. I do not have fire from God and I cannot trick God for it and I shall not either. For I don't want to end up with a terrible fate, one which is worse than death.
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again.
Desdemona looks like a rose too. She is elegant and beautiful. Her fragrance is of a rose too. Yet I shouldn't pluck her. I don't want to unnecessarily lose her. If I am wrong and I have plucked her, then I cannot find a way to make her live again. She will die.
It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
I need to taste her again. The taste of her lips and the taste of her skin. I need to smell her too. I'm addicted to her. I need to. Kissing her
Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.
Her kiss is making me falter. I might just end up not doing it. But I am taking on the role of justice. I am doing God and Venice a favour. She needs to die. If Justice was in my position, her sword would be on the verge of breaking too. Desdemona is addictive.
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after. One more, and this the last:
I do love her now. But I must to it. I need to save her soul and I need to save Venice. By doing this, she cannot influence anyone to behave in a wrong manner.
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
I will cry for her. My tears will roll down my cheeks because she is so beautiful. She looks so perfect. If only she isn't a cruel trickster. A manipulative woman.
But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
My tears will hurt me. They will kill me slowly. Yet the pain is addictive. I know I have to punish her. I love her but I do what God wants me to. He does the same and as an agent of Justice, I do that too.
It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
Her eyelids start fluttering open. Her dark lashes are first fanned out. It casts long shadows that fall on her cheeks.
She will die. Maybe if she carried on sleeping, she might have lived. But I must do this and I must do this now.
What do you think? Dark right.
I really like this play. I'm not the keenest on Shakespeare tbh because everyone assumes he's good but he's just annoying. I do have to admit he does write some good stuff.
I really like this speech. I also love the fact that this is where you get the Green Eyed Monster from (Act 3 Scene 3, Iago: O, beware, my lord, of jealousy. It is the green eyed monster that doth mock the meat it feeds on. The cuckold lives in bliss. Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger. But o, what damned minutes tells he o'er. That dotes yet doubts. Suspects yet strongly loves.)
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