Comparing and contrasting the problems arising from questions of character motivation in Othello
This article explores the intricate motivations of Othello and Iago, two central characters in Shakespeare's play Othello, employing frameworks from both medieval and modern psychoanalysis. It explores religious and moral vitalist perspectives, drawing on classical and Renaissance views on good and evil. The dichotomization of Othello's virtue and Iago's malevolence is illuminated through ancient Greek personifications. The paper transitions to a modern psychological lens, examining themes of race, racism, and identity crises within the play. Racism becomes pivotal in Othello's narrative, catalyzing tragedy due to his outsider status among the Venetian gentry. The exploration extends to Othello's tragic flaw rooted in jealousy, driven by insecurity and outsider status. Greenblatt's perspective on Othello's tragic end, Freud's tripartite psyche model, and Lacan's mirror stage contribute to unraveling the characters' motivations within psychological, historical, and cultural contexts.
Othello is a plot-driven text that ensnares the reader and instills in them a desire to know what happens to the characters and the results of certain events. However, readers are often left wondering about the drivers that motivate characters to make certain decisions and act in certain ways. Shakespeare does not provide extensive detail about the character’s motivations. In some cases, he even gives contradictory information, offering only a glimpse into the social context. One may argue that neither Shakespeare nor his audience was concerned with the characters’ motivation, placing more emphasis on their actions’ effects. Perhaps, the reason lies in the fact that the audience of Shakespeare's time was already well-acquainted with the societal atmosphere. Consequently, Shakespeare didn't feel the need to explicitly delve into this social context in his plays. On the other hand, in present times, where we may not have a complete understanding of historical and social contexts, there could be an increased interest in exploring motivations. Perhaps Shakespeare had limited time to write and craft these plays, considering that he was also the director and had to oversee their production. Even today, many directors aim to expedite the modern renditions of Shakespeare’s plays due to shortened audience attention spans, implementing various strategies to hasten production. In any case, as Emma Smith notes, Shakespeare’s plays are characterized by gaps and ambiguities. However, “their gappiness and their ambiguities produce creative readings.”[1]
Othello navigates a delicate line between medieval and modern aspects and patterns. Characters can be uncomplicated and defined by their traits rather than by their pasts; they can be intricate and complex, shaped by their histories, or they may embody both aspects simultaneously. Specifically, Shakespeare depicts Othello as a virtuous individual who is a character foil for the malevolent Iago. This dichotomization characterization can be illuminated by the ancient Greek personification of human nature, which posits an inherent duality in humanity. Grounded in Greek mythology, this idea was popularized by the work of 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche in his treatise, The Birth of Tragedy. Through the Greek legendary figures Apollo and Dionysus in "The Birth of Tragedy," Nietzsche investigates the duality of human nature. He contends that the interaction between the Apollonian, who represents order and form, and the Dionysian, who represents chaos and emotion, is central to the nature of tragedy. This dichotomy becomes a central theme as Nietzsche delves into the artistic and cultural implications of these opposing forces in Greek culture.[2] According to this paradigm, individuals embody either noble or ignoble qualities, a dichotomy embodied by the deities Apollo and Dionysus.[3]
Apollo epitomizes the sublime aspects associated with the soul, representing qualities such as art, beauty, reason, and intellect. These faculties collectively signify the exaltation and ascension of the soul.[4] Othello embodies certain Apollonian qualities, possessing a benevolent nature that inclines him to perceive goodness in others, albeit at risk of naivete and susceptibility to manipulation. Conversely, the counterbalancing faculties and forces find representation in Dionysus, a deity symbolizing material and bodily pleasures. Dionysus, as the god of winemaking, orchards, fruit, festivity, insanity, and ritual madness, embodies the more carnal and hedonistic aspects of human existence.
The ancient Greeks conceptualized these deities as personifications of distinct aspects of the human experience. The peril lies in an imbalance, as skewing toward either deity’s characteristics can lead to adverse consequences. Overemphasizing Apollo's traits, linked to order and control, may result in a stifling, overly structured society, suppressing creativity. Conversely, an overemphasis on Dionysian characteristics, associated with chaos and unrestrained emotions, leads to societal disarray and anarchy. The danger lies in overlooking the need for a harmonious balance between these deities, as both Apollo and Dionysus contribute to a well-rounded and flourishing human experience.
In Othello, we observe a parallel dynamic unfolding through Iago and Othello. The initial segments of the play demonstrate that Othello is an Apollonian archetype characterized by sophistication, intelligence, grace, elegance, eloquence, charm, bravery, and competence. As a warrior, he is called upon by the leader of Venice to safeguard a pivotal asset of the Venetian empire—Cyprus. However, requisite for the tragic trajectory of the play, Othello must harbor a tragic flaw that precipitates his downfall. Notably, Othello perceives inherent goodness in others, lacking a cynical disposition. He embodies virtue and projects this intrinsic goodness outwardly. Yet, as the tragic flaw begins to manifest, the foundations of his character crumble, leading to his inevitable destruction. Othello’s fragility seemingly stems from attributes such as insecurity as an outsider.
In contrast, Iago, a character who is one of literature’s most infamous villains, reveals a Dionysian ego. Evidenced through his language, Iago epitomizes baseness, vulgarity, and an exclusively materialistic worldview defined by material wealth and the pursuit of carnal desires. Despite his charismatic and intelligent demeanor, coupled with an astute understanding of human psychology, Iago adopts a cynical perspective, consistently predisposed to perceiving the darker facets of human nature. His cunning and manipulative tendencies underscore the Dionysian dimensions of his character.
I also draw on the work of Coleridge, who provides a compelling reading of Iago, saying that he was driven by “motiveless malignity,”[5] suggesting that his malevolence lacked a specific motivation beyond any discernible rationale. Iago, according to Coleridge, is the living personification of evil. In the play’s closing, Othello portrays Iago as a demonic or quasi-demonic entity, revealing Iago’s vast and unmitigated malevolent nature.
Since the Medieval era, scholars have studied the concept of evil, concluding that humans have the ability to choose between good and evil. According to Christian teachings, the source of evil is Satan. Conversely, moral vitalism is the belief that good and evil are actual, active forces “that can influence people and events.”[6] Moral vitalism accepts that there are real forces of good and evil that can affect both moral and immoral events. Moral vitalistic thought is intriguing because it provides a logical explanation for what causes good and evil things to happen, as well as what makes people good or bad. As a result, it acts as a heuristic or common sense framework for navigating the complex world of moral judgment and behavior.[7] Moral vitalists accept a simplistic model of “spirit possession” to comprehend the consequences of good and evil on psychological processes. They argue that, under this model, good, and evil are genuine, causally potent forces that may possess and infect humans.[8]
Iago’s disdain for Othello is mentioned at various times. He overtly states his sentiments twice: “I hate the Moor.”[9] Iago’s resentment and strong animosity toward Othello become evident throughout the play. Cassio, a noncombatant intellectual, is favored by Othello over Iago, a working-class soldier. Cassio’s elevated position, despite lacking battlefield experience, intensifies Iago’s resentment for Othello. There is a clear social divide between these two figures. Othello, a Moor and a high-ranking general in the Venetian army, faces racial prejudice and is considered an outsider in Venetian society. Despite his military success, Othello's marriage to Desdemona intensifies this social division by challenging societal norms. In contrast, Iago, though also a military officer, holds a lower rank than Othello. Driven by resentment and envy, Iago manipulates situations to undermine Othello's social standing and assert his own perceived superiority. The play's exploration of social hierarchy and racial tensions contributes to the intricate relationships among characters, particularly the adversarial dynamic between Iago and Othello. Iago's exploitation of these social divisions plays a crucial role in the tragic events that unfold.
Furthermore, Iago harbors deep resentment toward Cassio and Othello for their preferences. Additionally, jealousy is possibly one of Iago’s motives, as Iago suspects Othello of having an affair with his wife, even though there is no evidence of such offered by the play.
Iago may have even harbored a secret, passionate love for Othello. He may have felt deeply hurt that Othello had chosen Desdemona and Cassio over him, and like a jealous lover, he made every effort to force Othello to push them aside so that, in the end, Othello would keep his attention exclusively on him. However, these motives might not be particularly significant. Iago sets conditions and rules, coaxing circumstances to his advantage so wonderfully that it almost seems like he enjoys simply being a schemer. He ties everything together, making it irrelevant as to whether he has underlying goals since he makes it seem as though he enjoys playing with others and exercising his skills at deception. He enjoys creating chaos and is skilled at it.
Therefore, if we examine Iago’s motives from the aforementioned Christian and moral vitalist perspectives, we can describe him as inherently evil, which is fundamentally essentialist. However, modern psychology would argue that his motives have a different root. Even though Iago’s deception and words fueled Othello’s jealousy, which drove him to murder Desdemona, from the perspective of modern psychology, it is comprehensible why he victimized Othello. This perspective can also explain why Othello is so gullible. Although Iago’s misdeeds and Othello’s reaction can be described from a medieval psychological standpoint, Iago’s motives are more problematic from a modern psychological standpoint, leading to additional questions. For example, why would Iago not simply murder Othello and end the situation? Why did Iago have to kill his own wife in addition to wounding Cassio, causing Roderigo and Desdemona to die?
Even though we, as readers, can observe some of the motives behind these decisions, the reasons do not seem to justify the extreme measures taken. One way to analyze and understand the characters’ actions and motivations is to examine their motives through the lens of modern psychology. To do this, we need to delve into discussions about race, racism, and identity crises within the context of this play.
The pervasive theme of racism plays a pivotal role in the narrative, with Othello cognizant of his outsider status among the Venetian gentry. This awareness, coupled with the racial prejudice he endures, renders him susceptible to the manipulative machinations of Iago. In addition, I argue that Othello’s tragic flaw, rooted in his jealousy, emanates from this insecurity and outsider status. For decades, people, critics, and experts have denied that this play has anything to do with race. Additionally, many have argued that Othello’s race was an incidental problem. While some critics have argued that this is a rather narrow interpretation, others have argued that this color-blind reading is more enlightened and liberal, as it avoids falling into the trap of thinking like Brabantio or Iago.
Other critics have aimed to emulate Desdemona, who claims to appreciate Othello for his mind and refuses to see his skin color. They have focused on his generosity, majesty, magnificence, or similar qualities. Despite the play’s apparent focus on race, color, and racial differences, many critics argued that the central theme is to look beyond the surface, taking Desdemona as a model. Given that Bianca, the courtesan, has a name that means white, and Othello, who is Black, is portrayed as the embodiment of outraged virtue or courage and steadfastness, any attempt to colorblind the play is an attempt to diminish its power.
Examining the play’s structure and how it begins provides insights into the backstory. Many of Shakespeare’s plays, especially the tragedies, begin with an intimate conversation before a significant public scene. During this private talk, we gain information about the history behind what we are about to witness. In this case, we first hear from Iago and Roderigo before meeting the hero, Othello. Iago shouts under Brabantio’s window, “Even now, now, very now, an old black ram / Is tupping your white ewe.”[10]
The description features vivid and repelling animal imagery, particularly when Roderigo comments on Othello’s skin color, referring to him as, among other things, having “thick lips.” This language specifically points to his race. Othello’s origins have been a topic of longstanding debate. Although his exact place of birth is uncertain, the term “thick lips” can be considered to distinguish his physiological features or to highlight his race. The numerous references to him as Black, even by Othello himself, reinforce the perception of him as a “stranger,” as Roderigo labels him, and underscores the term’s impactful use in the play.
The term “stranger” does not solely denote someone new to town; it refers to someone who is the other. The play is set in a period in early modern history marked by a great deal of exploration. Indigenous North Americans and Africans were coerced and brought to London or other major cities, such as Venice, displayed, and assimilated into society. This period marked the beginnings of European colonization and Eurocentrism, in which Christianity and whiteness prevailed. There are advantages and disadvantages to being a stranger from a cultural perspective, but otherness is a pivotal pillar underpinning the term “stranger.” It is undeniable that a sizable portion of Othello’s status comes from his ability to mobilize both his foreignness and his competence in service of the state. Despite being a stranger, he holds a high position, serving as a general or warrior hero in Venice. However, there is a clear conflict between Othello’s new and old identities, bringing identity, power, and self-identity into play in his character development.
Othello’s dehumanization by way of his othering is referenced from the beginning of the play. Desdemona’s father immediately brings up Othello’s race, expressing disdain for Othello and and humiliation that his daughter had fallen for him. Brabantio says, “A maiden never bold, of spirit so still and quiet that her motion blushed at herself...to fall in love with what she feared to look on.”[11] His perception of his daughter is as peculiar as Othello’s imagination regarding the circumstances surrounding Desdemona’s love for him. Desdemona chooses Othello from among many rejected suitors, “The wealthy curled (darlings) of our nation,”[12] men Brabantio implies are Venetian princes—insiders who are stylish and affluent. Brabantio compares Othello, the outsider, to the “curled darlings,” expressing perplexity as to why she chose Othello. Othello also discusses his skin color. In one scene, he suspects Desdemona of infidelity. He says, “Her name, which was as fresh as Dian’s visage, is now begrimed and black as mine own face.”[13] Additionally, he stated, “Haply, for I am black and have not those soft parts of conversation / That chamberers have, or for I am declined into the vale of years.”[14] A chamberer is a diplomat or somebody who works indoors rather than outdoors. Othello seems to imply that he is not good at language and his manner of speech is coarse. However, critics have argued that Othello is an excellent interlocutor. Wilson Knight coined the phrase “the Othello music”[15] to describe the wonderfully fluid language that Othello uses. However, Othello belittles it, stating that he cannot speak as well and courteously. Once again, this self-doubt is linked to his race and origin, which he considers to be a possible reason for Desdemona’s suspected infidelity. He thus self-identifies an inferior, subordinate Black man.
According to Greenblatt, Othello meets his tragic end because he creates a false self-narrative as a result of his anxiety over self-refashioning (i.e., his desire to create a new identity for himself).[16] He desperately wants to be accepted by white Venetian society, so he attempts to build a false identity, but this task proves too ambitious: “Othello’s identity depends upon a constant performance… of his ‘story’ a loss of his own origins, an embrace and perpetual reiteration of the norms of another culture. It is this dependence that gives Othello, the warrior and alien, a relation to Christian values that is the existential equivalent of a religious vocation; he cannot allow himself the moderately flexible adherence that most ordinary men have toward their own formal beliefs. Christianity is the alienating yet constructive force in Othello’s identity….”[17] Othello thus converts to Christianity, the dominant religion during the Renaissance, as it offered him the best chance for social assimilation and acceptance. This translates into heightened sexual anxiety surrounding his marriage to Desdemona, as Othello almost sees his union with her as an illegitimate illicit affair from the outset. This clearly irrational perspective stems from his paralyzing self-consciousness. According to Greenblatt, Othello’s acceptance of the false narrative he tells himself to survive in a foreign land leads to profound sexual anxiety: “Othello’s loss of himself—a loss depicted discursively in his incoherent ravings—arises not only from the fatal conjunction of Desdemona’s love and Iago’s hate, but from the nature of that identity, from what we have called his submission to narrative self-fashioning….”[18]
Furthermore, Othello is bewildered by Desdemona’s wholehearted and passionate acceptance of him. Despite this, he remains unable to comprehend why she would choose to marry him in the first place. In contrast, Iago’s attitude toward Othello is colonial. Iago’s subordination serves as a form of security for him, as it allows him to conceal his true intention and manipulate Othello’s ambivalence toward Christian society. From Iago’s perspective, Othello represents both the power structure and the alien—the invader and the infidel:[19]
Iago [is successful because he] is sensitive to habitual and self-limiting forms of discourse, to Cassio’s reaction where he has had a drink or when someone mentions Bianca, to Othello’s rhetorical extremism, to Desdemona’s persistence and tone when she pleads for a friend; and… he is demonically sensitive to the way individuals interpret discourse, to the signals they ignore and those to which they respond… [while] Othello [believes] that one can win pity for oneself only by becoming a tale of oneself, and hence by ceasing to be oneself… Iago knows that an identity that has been fashioned as a story can be unfashioned, refashioned, inscribed anew in a different narrative: it is the fate of stories to be consumed or, as we say more politely, interpreted.[20]
I now examine these characters from Freud’s perspective. According to Freud’s tripartite psyche model,[21] which features the ego, id, and superego, we can dissect Othello’s mind into two main parts: the conscious or ego and the unconscious. His id, representing his instincts and drives, is also distinct from his superego, which embodies his conscience. Othello experiences mental processes of which he is not aware, and these unconscious workings, along with his drives, such as Eros and Thanatos, propel him toward tragedy. Othello can be understood as constantly suppressing and sublimating his impulses and drives. Given how effectively this aligns with his argument about the sublimation of the barbaric in favor of the civilized, Freud might have suggested “Civilization and Its Discontents” as the title for the first act of Othello. In this context, the act embraces Iago’s Moor as a model rather than Shakespeare’s Moor. The Turks who are threatening to take possession of and pillage Venice’s property in Cyprus are represented domestically by Iago’s Moor.[22]
We can also examine behaviors and motivations through Lacan’s idea of the imaginary and the mirror stage. This denotes the process of developing the ego in relation to the image of one’s body as a coherent whole, which is synonymous with the development of one’s identity. This stage occurs between 6 and 18 months of age, when a child begins to recognize their own body in a mirror as their true self. In the preceding stage, the child lacks a coherent sense of their own body and makes no clear distinction between their own self and the external world.
In the mirror stage, two crucial developments occur: 1) the baby recognizes its body as a cohesive entity with a well-defined shape that is distinct from other objects or people in its surroundings, and 2) the baby gains a sense of mastery over the image of itself. This realization comes as the baby understands that it can manipulate the image in the mirror by moving its arms, legs, and head. The mirror image becomes a source of pleasure, completeness, and control. This leads the baby to identify with the image in the mirror, considering it a representation of who they are. According to Lacan, the ego, or ideal self, is identified when the self-image is acquired during the mirror stage. Lacan describes the ego as having two characteristic features: misrecognition and alienation. The ego is based on an external projection—an image located outside the subject—making the ego alien to one’s own self.[23] From the Lacanian perspective, we can understand that Othello is in conflict with his own self and his true, original identity. Othello’s perception and knowledge of himself in a new and foreign environment alienates him from his identity, resulting in his tragic demise.
Additionally, the characters’ use of language and sentences represents their unconscious. As Lacan says, “The unconscious is structured like a language.”[24] In other words, language users do not reveal their unconscious; rather, language is our unconscious.[25] From Lacan’s symbolic perspective, human existence is inextricably linked to the symbolic order of language, which precedes our individual existence and persists beyond the end of our individual lives. Language serves as the medium or template through which we express our identities. The “I” we articulate within language to identify ourselves functions similarly to the mirror image. It exists external to us, this articulation of “I,” yet it serves as the mark onto which we project our sense of selfhood. Consequently, both language and the mirror image are perceived as aliens or other to us. Lacan terms language “the big Other,” encompassing not only our conscious identity but also our unconscious aspects. He believes that all our wishes, fears, and desires, even when they are repressed, are actually structured by the force field of language. [26]
Lacan's idea that "the unconscious is structured like a language" suggests that the characters' spoken words and sentences may expose hidden aspects of their inner worlds. For Othello, language choices and expressions become significant in understanding his unconscious struggles, particularly regarding themes of race and societal expectations. The articulation of the self within language reflects Othello's attempts to navigate his outsider status and desire for acceptance in Venetian society. In the case of Iago, whose motives are often seen as enigmatic and driven by "motiveless malignity," Lacan's perspective on language as the structure of the unconscious invites an exploration of Iago's verbal manipulations. His use of language to deceive and manipulate may reveal deeper, unconscious desires for power, revenge, or a sense of superiority. Lacan's concept of "the big Other" as language encompassing both conscious and unconscious aspects of identity suggests that the characters' expressed motivations through language may only scratch the surface. Unconscious forces could be at play, shaping their actions and decisions in ways that go beyond immediate comprehension.
In this essay, we contemplated the complexities of human nature in relation to medieval and current psychoanalytical ideas by delving into the profound web of motivations in Shakespeare’s Othello. As characters, Othello and Iago allow us to explore morality, religion, and the multidimensional nature of humans.
The comparison of medieval and modern psychoanalysis sheds light on the dynamic interplay of factors affecting the character’s actions. The echoes of classical viewpoints on good and evil resonate in the characters’ struggles, while Lacanian and Freudian ideas provide additional layers to our understanding.
As we consider Othello’s tragic path, which is influenced by prejudice, power relations, and the complexities of identity, it becomes clear that motivations are not isolated threads in the fabric of the human experience. The complexities of outsiderness and marginalization further underscore the intricacies of character motivations, allowing Othello to offer a timeless exploration of the human psyche.
In conclusion, the motivations of Othello and Iago are multi-faceted, reflecting the enduring relevance of Shakespeare’s explorations of the human condition. By delving into the rich tapestry of psychological frameworks, we gain insight not only into the characters themselves but also into the universal motivations that shape the course of human lives. Othello stands as a testament to the enduring power of literature in unraveling the intricacies of the human soul.
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Barnet, Sylvan. "Coleridge on Shakespeare's Villains." Shakespeare Quarterly 7, no. 1 (1956): 9-20.
Calderwood, James L. “Appalling Property in Othello.” University of Toronto Quarterly 57, no. 3 (1988): 353–75.
Greenblatt, Stephen. Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Minear, Erin. “Music and the Crisis of Meaning in Othello.” Studies in English Literature, 1500–1900 49, no. 2 (2009): 355–70.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Birth of Tragedy; and The Genealogy of Morals. Anchor Books. New York: Doubleday, 1956.
Nietzsche, Friedrich, Ira J. Allen, and Friedrich Ulfers. The Dionysian Vision of the World. 1st ed. Minneapolis: Univocal, 2013.
Parker, Robert Dale. How to Interpret Literature: Critical Theory for Literary and Cultural Studies. 4th ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2020.
Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 and E. A. J. Honigmann. 2001. Othello. London, Arden Shakespeare.
Smith, Emma. This Is Shakespeare. London: Pelican, 2019.
Thro, M. “Apollo vs. Dionysus: The Only Theme Your Students Will Ever Need in Writing About Literature.” Virginia Community Colleges Association Journal 10, no. 2 (1996): 11–18.
[1] Emma Smith, This Is Shakespeare (London: Pelican, 2019).
[2] Friedrich Nietzsche. The Birth of Tragedy ; and The Genealogy of Morals. Anchor Books. (New York: Doubleday, 1956).
[3] M. Thro, “Apollo vs. Dionysus: The Only Theme Your Students Will Ever Need in Writing About Literature,” Virginia Community Colleges Association Journal 10, no. 2 (1996):11–18.
[4] Friedrich Nietzsche, Ira J. Allen, and Friedrich Ulfers, The Dionysian Vision of the World (Minneapolis: Univocal, 2013), 29–31.
[5] Sylvan Barnet, "Coleridge on Shakespeare's Villains." Shakespeare Quarterly 7, no. 1 (1956): 19
[6] Brock Bastian et al., “Moral Vitalism,” Personality & Social Psychology Bulletin 41, no. 8 (2015):1069.
[7] Ibid., 1070.
[8] Ibid., 1081.
[9] William Shakespeare, Othello, edited by E.A.J. Honigmann, 1.3.405/420.
[10] Ibid., 1.1.
[11] Ibid., 1.3.95–100.
[12] Ibid, 1.2. 68-69
[13] Ibid., 3.3.3890–91.
[14] Ibid. 3.3. 267-270
[15] E. Minear, “Music and the Crisis of Meaning in Othello,” Studies in English Literature, 1500–1900 49, no. 2 (2009):355.
[16] Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 245.
[17] Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare. 245.
[18] Ibid., 244.
[19] Ibid., 233–34.
[20] Ibid., 233.
[21] Robert Dale Parker, How to Interpret Literature: Critical Theory for Literary and Cultural Studies, 4th ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020), 126.
[22] James L. Calderwood, “Appalling Property in Othello,” University of Toronto Quarterly 57, no. 3 (1988):353.
[23] Parker, 140–49.
[24] Parker, 147
[25] Parker, 140–49.
[26] Parker, 140–49.
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