1) Take a look
at Cato’s reaction to his son Marcus’s death: “I’m satisfied” and his statement
that he wants to “view at leisure / The bloody corse, and count those glorious
wounds” (4.4.66, 78-79). How do you think we’re meant to react to Cato here?
And how did you react?
or
2) What are
your impressions of the romantic plots, particularly when they come to crisis point
at 4.1 – 4.3? You can comment on either what actually happens during these
scenes, or on the style adopted by
this play, especially in its language. Does it seem different than, say, All for Love or Oroonoko?
or
3) What do you
make of the epilogue? Is it consistent with the rest of the play? Or is it
jarring? It was written by a different author, and epilogues are often meant to
serve as a transition point between the fictional world of the play and the
real world of people in the theater watching the play. Does this epilogue serve
as that transition point?
or
4) Discuss
another part of today’s reading that seems to be in need of exploration,
elucidation, or comment.
I found it interesting that the romantic plots in a tragedy would end well – even perfectly. It seemed a little redundant to have two love triangles in the same play, but there was enough variation to make it acceptable. In the Lucia-Poritius-Marcus plot, the rivals are friends, and while Lucia love Portius more, Marcus is just volatile, not hostile. In the Marcia-Juba-Sempronius plot, however, there is a villain and a hero. Notably, there is a face-off between the rivals in the Marica triangle, but not in the Lucia one – Marcus never even finds out Portius’ intentions. And even when Juba does kill Sempronius, it is not over Maria but over his own honor – no one ever even discovers Sempronius’ dastardly intentions regarding Marcia. So there is not much confrontation between rivals in Cato. We also don’t get any interaction between the refused lovers and the women they love – we never see Lucia and Marcus together, or Marcia and Sempronius. And most importantly, or strangely, both plots end perfectly neatly in both cases, with no uncomfortable loose ends. Why the author decided to end it this way is unclear – maybe he felt that Cato’s death was enough tragedy for one play? It certainly makes it seem as though love is not the subject of tragedy in this play – unlike in All for Love or Oroonoko, where the affairs of state were secondary to the love plots.
ReplyDeleteAdvice: Listen to the Hamilton soundtrack while reading the final acts of Cato.
ReplyDeleteCato’s reaction to his son’s death did not shock me; this is war after all. And Cato himself later states (in regards to Marcia and Juba) that “Caesar’s arms have thrown down all distinctions.” This was how I reacted to Cato’s reaction; war does not leave any human emotion in its natural state. Instead, it distorts so that a father is proud that his son has died, rather than sad. I think the juxtaposition to Marcia’s reaction to Juba’s death is also striking. Marcia is finally able to express her feelings when she thinks he has died. His death has liberated her. Cato was also liberated by his son’s death, to be able to define what he believed their roles was in this fight, to become martyrs for freedom. To have said it before death would have been construed as madness, but after the fact…his son is a hero.
Perhaps Cato might have benefited from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s words:
“[WASHINGTON]
It’s alright, you want to fight, you’ve got a hunger
I was just like you when I was younger
Head full of fantasies of dyin’ like a martyr?”
[HAMILTON] “Yes.”
[WASHINGTON]
“Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.”
To that end I find myself agreeing with Miranda over Cato, living and fighting for freedom is harder than going down in a blaze on the battlefield (someone should tell the Greeks) However, I can’t help but understand the appeal of it to Hamilton, and Cato.
From what left field does this epilogue originate?
ReplyDeleteHave we just completed a romantic upper? Did not Rome, the virtuous world (because Rome is of course the World; no dumb nationalism there) just fall to the depraved leadership of Caesar? Is powerful leader and rhetorical genius Cato not dead?
The bipolar flip in tone and concerns is a rejection of that which Marcia had insisted upon throughout the play: one cannot worry one's pretty little head about love when one's world is an inch from disaster. But, with that disaster come, it is as if the decision is made that now one can give oneself up to those distracting romantic musings for the worst has finally and already happened.
As for the language of the epilogue, there is both the presentation of the traditional female as beloved object of the sonneteer, and the exclamation that one longs for a time of artless words in exchange for sincere thought. Of course, in the latter too the woman remains trapped in the maid-wife-widow paradigm. Yet, as seems to be Cato's way, sexist commentary is not an obvious endorsement of the misogyny. Women promise to be virtuous, beautiful, but the whole strange speech ends with empowering the woman with the active: every Lucia will seek and find herself a Cato's son. The epilogue, the cap to an emphatically male-dominated play is spoken by a woman; Woman is the one to receive a name, the ultimate memorializing action, while the men who had controlled and formed the narrative are the catch all "Cato's son."
So is this maybe out of place, maybe sharply reflective epilogue negatively gendered? Is it a shocking because women complete the story of war? Am I annoyed or in love? I've haven't a clue.
{The epilogue was definitely jarring. I was grasping for references to the actual play and was only able to find a few so I would definitely like to know where that came from.}
ReplyDeleteCato's reaction to the death of his son, Marcus reminded me of Homer's epics. Honor and glory in war is a major theme throughout the Iliad and the Odyssey. The men go to war in order to die for something meaningful. Dying brutally on the battlefield is the epitome of what it means to be a warrior. Cato definitely shares this belief. Perhaps this makes sense given that Rome was established by the Trojans after they were defeated by the greeks. It could be an extreme patriotism which was passed down... (?) When Portius comes to tell his father of Marcus' death, Cato's primary concern is not the fact that he has lost his son, but HOW he lost his son. After being told that Marcus did not betray his own people he says, "I'm satisfied" (4.4.66). He is able to come to terms with the death of his son because Marcus "has done his duty" (4.4. 70). He admires the mutilated body of his son, seeing it as evidence of his bravery and commitment to his country. One particular line from his speech left me shell shocked, "what pity is it that we can die but once to serve our country!" (4.4.81-82). This overdramatic expression of patriotism actually made me laugh, I can't seem to express why, but it seemed to me like such an absurd comment to make. Dramatic death has garnered more glory than living as a true hero and leader. He's totally missing the point...
Cato is so beloved by his subjects and he is portrayed as a true hero, full of courage and love for his people. I didn't see much in the text to support this image. I can understand why Marcus is a hero, he is actually defending his country whereas Cato is just a coward. He doesn't even enter into war, he simply accepts his defeat, crawls into a corner and kills himself. HOW IS HE A HERO????? This was a big issue for me in Cato. I didn't see anything courageous about Cato. In choosing to preserve his own dignity, he abandons his people to the enemy. I would understand if he killed himself on the battlefield but he doesn't even go to war! am I missing a huge part of the plot...?
What exactly does he accomplish thats so great. Shouldn't Marcus be the hero of the play??