Richard is no less than brilliant. He manages to kill eleven people without so much
as touching them. He has these callous and ruthless deeds carried out on those
closest to him because of his ambition to gain access to the crown. Richard wins
over person after person with his charm whilst riding a tide of blood and
pathological lies. His use of language is engaging and clever, and his sense of
humour dark yet provoking. As his brother, Clarence, is being led away to the
tower, Richard says: ‘That you should be new Christ’ned in the tower,’ knowing well
of his intentions to have Clarence drowned and killed there.
Richard has been referred to as Shakespeare’s most evil character.[71] He has been
called the ‘monster of evil,’ the ‘virtual devil incarnate.’[72] Even within the
play, Queen Margaret, who sees through him, characterises Richard as an ‘elvish-
marked abortive, rooting hog.’[73] According to Oestreich-Hart[74] Richard has also
been described as an ‘intrepid warrior,’ a ‘comic or satirical Vice,’ a ‘diabolic
Machiavel,’ a ‘heartless villain of Senecan melodrama,’ and a ‘spurned child.’ But
does all this indicate that he is a psychopath? By looking at his cruel acts it may
seem so, but let me present one very important detail: towards the end of the play,
Richard shows signs of remorse and fear. These are two fundamental characteristics
never found in a true psychopath.
According to Greenblatt:[79]
Shakespeare is following his chronicle source, which states that Richard could not
sleep on the eve of his death, because he felt unwonted pricks of conscience. But
though it has a staccato vigor, the soliloquy, as a way of sketching over inner
conflict, is schematic and mechanical as if within the character onstage there was
simply another tiny stage on which puppets were performing a Punch-and-Judy show.
I disagree with Greenblatt’s interpretation of this scene and propose almost the
opposite. It is up until this point that Richard has been playing a character, but
here, in this scene, his true self is revealed – to us and to himself. The panic
evident by the ‘staccato vigor’ and the use of feminine endings make it, not
‘schematic and mechanical,’ but raw and emotional.
Richard’s final feminine line-ending occurs within: ‘Methought the souls of all
that I had murdered.’ Here, he speaks of murder for the first time with emotion. He
realises that he is no longer playing a part and those whom he has murdered are not
players on a stage. Richard is experiencing remorse in this scene. He refers to the
murders as ‘hateful deeds committed by myself!’ He says that his conscience has a
‘thousand several tongues’ with each bringing with it several tales ‘And every tale
condemns me for a villain.’ He knows what he has done is wrong and is feeling
guilty as a result. ‘Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! Guilty!’ He predicts
his punishment is coming in ‘To-morrow’s vengeance on the head of Richard.’
According to Blum,[80] Shakespeare has written the emotion of guilt into Richard’s
character so that it is both latent and manifest. Freud proposes that Richard’s
apparent lack of guilt is actually due to an unconscious guilt he possesses. His
failure to accept the reality principle allows him to carry out vicious acts
without apparent empathy. This unconscious guilt is rooted in the guilt he feels as
a result of his deformity and is overwritten with a sense of entitlement.
Richard the Neurotic
I always felt that this quote belonged, not in As You Like It, but in Richard
III,as itencapsulates exactly what Richard appears to believe. Theorists and
critics have cast Richard as a villain and a psychopath. Yet we fail, as
spectators, to feel the deep sense of loathing towards his character, which usually
accompanies figures so described. Could this be, as Freud believes, due to the
sympathy drawn up within us at the sight of Richard’s deformities? Or could it, on
the other hand, be due to the fantastical form in which we witness the atrocities?
It is all just an act, a play within a play. Richard, being the only person to be
aware of this play, situates himself as the puppeteer. He makes us, the audience,
co-conspirators by divulging to us, and us alone, his wicked plan.
Fantasy and desire are intertwined for the neurotic. I believe that Richard, in
Shakespeare’s rendering of the historical figure, is neurotic and not psychotic,
perverse or a psychopath, as has been theorised.[82] ‘To act directly and
effectively is, indeed, one of the hardest things for a neurotic to do.’[83] In
this play, although behind all eleven murders, Richard never actually lifts a
finger to carry out the deed. Richard never directly acts, except for in battle –
where rules of murder are one step removed. ‘If the object in which the libido can
find its satisfaction is withheld in reality, this is an external frustration. In
itself it is inoperative, not pathogenic, until an internal frustration is joined
to it.’[84] Richard, in Act I, Scene i, decides to become the bad guy. We have no
idea how serious he is when he makes this claim to the audience as it occurs in the
very first Act. In order to become a ‘villain’ and not a common thug Richard needs
to set particular goals. As it happens, Richard chooses seemingly ludicrous goals,
which appear nearly impossible to meet. In this same soliloquy he tells us that his
main reason for becoming a villain is because all of his comrades are enjoying the
women and women will not even look at him.[85] But yet, his first goal is to woo a
woman, a woman who has every right to hate him. After the success of this encounter
Richard appears somewhat in shock, even appalled.
Here, Richard’s external frustration is fused with his internal one. His fantasy
has become a potential reality. Freud says that internal frustration ‘must proceed
from the ego, and must dispute the access by the libido to other objects, which it
now seeks to get hold of. Only then does a conflict arise, and the possibility of a
neurotic illness, i.e. of a substitutive satisfaction reached circuitously by way
of the repressed unconscious.’[86]
Desire
‘Desire is always what is inscribed as a repercussion of the articulation of
language at the level of the Other.’[87] We find evidence of Richard’s neurosis in
the very first monologue: ‘I am determined to prove a villain.’ Richard is
admitting here that he is not naturally a villain. He is speaking of his desire. He
desires the role of a villain because he is unable to join in with the joyful
copulations, which consume the time of others. He has made a conscious decision to
create for himself a character to play to provide some entertainment whilst the
country is at peace. Richard sets in motion a chain of desires, which he wishes to
meet, but which never truly satisfy. After all, ‘Satisfaction...kills desire’[88]
in the neurotic. Richard pursues Lady Anne, a woman who has more right than anyone
to hate him at this point in the play, as he has just murdered her husband and
father-in-law in battle. ‘The obsessive desires something that is unattainable, the
realisation of his...desire thus being structurally impossible.’[89] Lady Anne
should have been impossible to woo. Richard mocks her acceptance of his efforts to
woo her.[90] The very moment he succeeds, however, he is done with her: ‘I’ll have
her; but I will not keep her long.’[91]
Richard has moved on to desiring his next object – the crown. Again, this should
seem impossible to attain as he is fourth in line to rightfully become the king. So
he kills his brother, awaits the death of his other sickly brother, deems the two
young princes illegitimate and claims the prize. All are just obstacles. ‘In both
hysteria and obsession, obstacles are placed in the way of any possible realisation
of desire.’[92] Finally Richard is king. But he is still not experiencing the
satisfaction he expected to have attained from such a feat. He goes one step
further and kills off the two princes, in hope of unleashing the regal feeling he
is awaiting. But his desire is no longer here. It is not within the object and,
therefore, cannot be satisfied by gaining access to this object. ‘Human desire,
strictly speaking, has no object.’[93] So where to from here for Richard?