With the release of director Michael Radford’s new film version of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, the old debate has again reared its ugly head: put plainly by Jonathan Freedland of the Guardian: “Does Shakespeare’s play merely depict anti-Semitism, or does it reek of it?” On January 19, the Toronto Jewish Film Festival presented this city’s second screening of the film (following the gala Film Fest premiere in September), followed by a panel discussion of distinguished speakers who attempted to answer that question. The panel’s moderator was Trinity College’s Jill Levenson, Professor of English and Chair of the International Shakespeare Association.
During a week when U of T is the forum for both Israeli Apartheid Week and IsraelFEST 2005 with much debate and opposition surrounding the former, a review of the Merchant may only serve to overflow everyone’s already saturated capacity for debates on what constitutes anti-Semitism and what doesn’t. Yet it is precisely such debates that hold potential for bringing people into useful dialogue.
So, is the play anti-Semitic, or is it merely about anti-Semitism? The consensus of the panel was that it is anti-Semitic, as it uses as its villain the ugliest possible stereotype of a Jew, and sets this caricature in a romantic comedy where any misfortunes befalling him are easily eclipsed by the antics of the rambunctious and of course, merciful, Christian characters.
Panel-member Bernie Farber related how in the course of his work as director of the Canadian Jewish Congress he questioned the appropriateness of teaching the Merchant of Venice in grade 9 and 10 English classes across Canada, and suggested that it might really be more appropriate for older students. He noted with emphasis that the Jewish Congress neither ever requested to ban the play from schools nor did any other Jewish organization do so, even if some individuals did. Yet, public response and media had opposed him on grounds that the works of Shakespeare did not warrant censorship.
If you read Rick Groen’s review in the January 21 Globe and Mail, on the other hand, you will be told that the play is not in fact anti-Semitic and that in Radford’s version of the play, this fact holds “poignantly enough to convince any lingering doubters.” As a lingering doubter myself, I can enumerate several aspects of the play that make it anti-Semitic. While I agree with Mr. Groen that Michael Radford’s treatment accentuates “extremism bred by extremists of every stripe,” there are a number of aspects of the Merchant from which no 21st-century director can deviate without substantially altering Shakespeare’s work.
First, it is important to note that Radford cleverly omitted some lines from Shakespeare’s play and also added some scenes that never existed. These revisions have a softening effect on the stark picture of the villain that was intended-money-lending Jew in opposition to the spirited, fun-loving and merciful Christians. Shylock’s line “I hate him for he is a Christian” is not uttered in Radford’s version. Further, title cards at the beginning of the film lay bare Jews’ status in 16th-century Venice: ghettoized and forced into “un-Christian” professions like money-lending. It opens on the scene of a pogrom: Antonio answers a greeting from Shylock by spitting on him.
Modifications such as these are what make the movie less anti-Semitic than the play. It is moreover what makes this version of the play so compelling; with the lines blurred between villain and hero the drama becomes more convincing and more riveting. While alterations such as these do make the movie less anti-Semitic than the play, the anti-Semitic underpinning is still present.
There remain a number of examples of the play’s very anti-Semitic foundation. Act IV ends leaving Shylock a broken man who has been stripped of his wealth and forcibly converted to Christianity; head bared, he is alone and stripped of all sense of belonging and place in life. Act V then opens on episodes of happy lovers in playful and charming domestic feuds that end with the respective couples retiring to their honeymoon suites. This last scene is somewhat reminiscent of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, though here, it is not terribly difficult to see how these shadows might offend; the final scene is so charming and light-hearted that the audience is lulled into forgetting the fate endured by Shylock and that lived by the Jews of Europe in general.
In Shylock, Shakespeare created a detestable villain and villains in stories do not require basic human dignity when they receive their “just rewards.” In the same character, Radford creates a human being living in a society of opposing extremes. Clearly a human being requires the dignity not required to offer to a villain during the scene of his undoing. This is not what is offered in this play, however, and only major changes to its plot could alter this.
The debate nonetheless rages on to the point of irritation. CBC radio morning show host Andy Barrie commented recently that he went to see the movie and that the ensuing conversation turned inevitably to the usual debate. He expressed reluctance to address the issue, saying that he just wanted to enjoy the movie without analyzing such questions.
Why is it that we feel that uncomfortable questions are always crashing the party? Such comments betray indifference, and indifference, we were told this week by Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel, must always be rejected. Allied soldiers and survivors alike faced a post-World War II society reticent to hear about concentration camps and Nazi horrors, even after these events put the existence of anti-Semitism for the first time into the popular media. This play is certainly designed to promote indifference to the pervasive suffering of one people throughout history.
In the end, Merchant is beautifully filmed and is worth seeing for the marvellous re-creation of Venice and some first-rate acting-no Calista Flockharts or Michelle Pfeiffers here-and the debate is one that should be investigated. Go see the film, but then read the play as well, noting what was cut out and what was added, and do not shy away from discussion. After all, if everyone is so reluctant in discussing questions of anti-Semitism in literature, if we are hesitant to properly mark the anniversary of the liberation the biggest camp in the last century’s largest-scale genocide, do we really need to wonder why the Jewish community might be nervous and unhappy about an event like Israeli Apartheid Week? While many difficult questions inevitably arise from such debates, the simplest way to make things a little easier is a discipline that our elementary school teachers tried to instil in us: the practice of listening.
