At the end of Shakespeare's play Titus Andronicus, Aaron the Moor, the architect of the woes of the Andronici, is sentenced to a slow death for his nefarious deeds. Yet, in the closing lines of the play, Titus' son Lucius commands that the dead Goth queen Tamora should be thrown to wild beasts to be devoured. Why did Shakespeare feel that he had to inflict more punishment on a character who had met a grisly fate already at the hands of its title character? The role of women within Shakespeare's plays is an issue which has been often cross examined by Freudian psychoanalysis, with results which illustrate the deep rooted fear with which the men of Renaissance England regarded the female sex. It thus follows that it is not surprising that Shakespeareís Titus Andronicus, one of his earlier works, is steeped with images of the woman as a devouring, all enveloping monster which must be totally eradicated. In this light, Tamora becomes the ultimate object of Titus' hatred and fear, whose destruction must be doubly confirmed before the play can close.
In examing the rivalry between Titus and Tamora, Shakespeare appears to immediately reveal his fear of female sexuality in his choice of characters. Upon appearing on stage, Titus explains that he has lost twenty one sons in his battles with the Goths, yet throughout the play a "Mrs. Titus" does not appear. In leaving out this character without adequate explanation, Shakespeare sets up a situation in which the audience can subconsciously believe that a man has been able to sire a host of children without the aid of the female sex. Thus, Titus is like a heavenly deity, untouched by the taint of human vice. It is left for mothers to be the source of evil in the world, as represented in this play by its only maternal figure: Tamora.
Tamora is quickly identified with being not only a powerful woman but also as one who is lascivious. In her first appearance on stage she is accompanied not by a husband but with her Moorish lover, and she becomes the controlling Queen of Saturninus within the first act. She is a creature whom Shakespeare paints as controlled by lust, both for sex and revenge, who marries for political gain. Yet it is her sexual desire which seems to rule her more, as illustrated in Scene Three of Act Two, in which she entreats her lover to while away a few hours in her arms. Aaron reproaches her for her thoughts, citing that there are acts of vengeance to be committed: "(T)hough Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine" Tamora here is seen as nothing more than a woman controlled by her sex hungry womb, who can only be tamed by the spite minded Aaron, little more than a beast.
In Barbara Creed's essay, Horror and the Monstrous Feminine, the author speaks about how the image of the female body becomes abject to the view of patriarchal society. This, she explains, is due to the theory that it is the mother who is the first thing we recognize as "the other" in our childhood. Thus, the mother is the eternal symbol of the alien, that which is not "us." Our relationship with the mother, Creed argues, is "one marked by conflict: the child struggles to break free but the mother is reluctant to release it... In the childís attempts to break away, the mother becomes abject." Thus, the very image of the mother, and of female sexuality itself, becomes one of horror and revulsion.
It is in Act Two of Titus that Tamora's sexuality is revealed as a deadly force, the images of which crop up continuously. First, in the scene preceding the rape of Lavinia, when the daughter of Titus is pleading with Tamora to spare her the horror of being ravished, Lavinia draws attention to Tamora's siring of her sons:
"When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
O, do not learn her wrath: she taught it thee.
The milk thou suckst from her did turn thee to marble;
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny."
Shakespeare seems to be implying that Tamora's role of the mother is one which taught her offspring to be cruel. Here, it appears, mothers are revealed as the source of evil: In that they pass on their own base nature onto those they bear, implicating all in the primal act of the copulation necessary for human reproduction. Not to be ignored either is the reference to Tamora as a tiger, an animal who feeds on the flesh of others. The mother figure of Shakespeare's play is not even allowed to be human, but is instead a symbol of female horror, whose appetite is mirrored by the popular Renaissance image of the womb that must be fed.
To compound this image, there is the Freudian image of woman as what Creed calls the archaic mother, a figure as old as the earth goddesses which invariably appear in the mythology of ancient religions, she who supposedly gave birth to the entire world. Yet when the image of the mother becomes abject, that which repels us, the archaic mother is almost always portrayed as "(T)he voracious maw, the mysterious black hole which signifies female genitalia as a monstrous sign which threatens... (T)o incorporate everything in its path." This image can be seen clearly in the description of the hole into which Bassianus, Quintus and Martius are all thrown:
"What subtle hole is this,
Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briars
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers?
A very fatal place it seems to me."
Here, the connection between the hole in the earth and the image of the menstruating vagina is made quite obvious. Much like Creed's image of the archaic mother, this "subtle hole" devours three of the characters of the play, an act which seems closely connected to their deaths.
This cave, which swallows up men whole, seems to be the center of the pastoral woods: A place which is apart from the patriarchal seat of Rome, almost a shrine to the figure of the Earth Mother. And, while it is Tamora who is the first character to mention the danger of the pit into which Bassianus is eventually thrown, she is able to escape with impunity. Markedly, Lavinia also escapes being tossed into the depths. This is primarily a male fear, as Marion Wynne-Davies points out in her essay "The Swallowing Womb."
"The swallowing womb does carry the promise of death, but for men and not women."
Thus, the threat that the womb of the archaic mother presents is one primarily directed at males. Their contact with the pit, and thus with the taboo sexuality of the mother figure, takes the form of the fear of reverse birth: An act which leads to death.
Unsurprisingly, Titus himself makes mention this later, when he tells Chiron and Demetrius of their fate: To be fed to their mother Tamora, whom he will make "Like to the earth to swallow her own increase." The image of the mother as a devouring monster comes full circle, with her being made to ingest her own children, returning them to the body of the mother. This brings up the connection between Tamora and the vision of the archaic mother within the context of horror, which Barbara Creed says is one in which "The Archaic mother is present... (A)s the blackness of extinction - death... (A) force that threatens to reincorporate what it once gave birth to." Tamora fulfills this role quite sufficiently. Given the sub context of the play, her ingestion of her own children seems almost inevitable.
Given the pseudo historical background of the play, it also becomes important to understand how myth comes into play within the context of the world of ancient Rome. Since it is also the mere sight of the female genitals which provides a sense of dread within the context of Titus Andronicus, we are forced to remember that within Greek mythology, almost all monsters were women. Tamora herself disguises herself later as the spirit of Revenge, which in both Greek and Roman tradition was symbolized in the image of the Furies: A depiction of women as violent creatures who oozed forth foul liquids which we find abhorrent, such as blood. The fact that Tamora disguises herself as this image of woman reveals Shakespeare's attempt to make a connection between his own constructed character and the hideously powerful women of past dramatic works, even those who are not truly human.
Put in this light, the conflict between the terrible powers of Tamora and the seeming sexual purity of Titus is one which can be more fully understood when comparing it to the myth of Perseus and Medusa, something which Barbara Creed draws some attention to. Their rivalry closely mirrors that of the battle within patriarchal society to view male heroes as the origin of civilization and of true human life, while the woman's role in creating life has been repudiated. Thus, even though Medusa's blood gives birth to Pegasus, reminding us that she is the original giver of life, she is reimagined as an obstacle which must be destroyed to allow civilization to exist. The opposite of this is, of course, the god like patriarch who can create without the aid of sex. Using this as an imprint on Titus, the play takes on the aspect of a mythic battle between the reality of our origins within the body of the female "other" and the dream of being molded into existence by a pure father figure. In this model, it becomes very important that Tamora be killed, so that the world can be made safe for the patriarchy. This message still rings true within Shakespeare's world, and is even compounded by the fact that England was ruled at that time by a woman. The need for men to exorcise the latent discomfort that this created, if even only subconsciously, springs forth in this play. Even though it is set in Ancient Rome, it is obvious that the issues with which it deals are timeless as long as ours is a patriarchal society which fears the abject woman.
Of course, not all of the femme fatales of mythology were monstrous in form, such as one which was closely tied to the image of the Fury: Clytaemnestra from Aeschylus' The Oresteia. Clytaemnestra also killed to revenge the death of her own children, yet it was her own husband (Agamemnon) whom she did away with. Women in power in this text are seen as dangerous not so much because they are killers, but because they attempt to subvert the world in which men are the dominant sex. Yet, while Clytaemnestra represents the dangerous ability of women to assume the roles of men, Tamora seems unable to actually do anything without the brain power of her Moorish lover. It is rather the presence of the threat of female sexuality (specifically Tamora's) in which Tamora is heavily implicated in the deaths which surround the gaping symbol of the archaic mother. And while it is Aaron who planned the deaths of the sons of Titus, it appears that Shakespeare will not let us forget what role Tamora plays in their demise as well, the hole in the ground standing in for her own genitals.
In Act Four, Scene Two, Aaron comments on Tamora's womb itself to her sons Chiron and Demetrius. While he reminds them of their time in their mother's womb to protect his own child with the queen, his speech reveals more of Shakespeare's subconscious feelings of fear towards women. Aaron reminds the two sons of Tamora that "(H)e is your brother, lords, sensibly fed / Of that self blood that first gave you life to you, / And from that womb where you imprisoned were / He is enfranchised and come to light." In this analysis, the womb is pictured as a prison from which all men must escape, a place to be dreaded. And, specifically, it is again Tamora's womb which is being discussed here. In connection with Demetrius and Chiron this once more raises the issue of sexual taboo, as it is their own mother's body which being discussed. Part of the fear of reverse birth deals with the taboo placed on sleeping with oneís own mother, a fear which is localized in the image of the motherís womb. In this way, the womb is a place which will reincorporate ourselves into it if we allow it to, dissolving our own identities. We cannot, it appears, escape from the womb twice.
Of course, Barbara Creed's article on the monstrous feminine was written in connection with the staples of the horror film, particularly the film Alien by Ridley Scott. It is in this sense that the ending of Titus Andronicus seems to become quite familiar. Much like Alien, Titus is filled with images of the mother as an object of horror, and takes its form both in the scenery as well as in its characters. It is very appropriate at the end of the play that Tamora be returned to the earth by way of leaving her body out to rot, a way to return the monster back to what it came from. The Alien from the movie of the same name dies in a somewhat similar manner, being ejected into the cosmic void which also represents the fear of woman, who possesses a more literal void. Both Alien and Tamora return back to their origins, yet we wonder how far removed they are from the archaic mother from which they sprang.
Still, Titus is also like the conventional horror film in that the object of terror is never quite dead until the very of the play. Thus, Lucius' command that Tamora's dead body be defiled by wild animals is connected very closely with the need of the horror film to kill its monsters numerous times before they are "truly" dead. Much like the monster of horror films, Tamora's presence rears itself into the forefront of the audiences mind shortly before the closing of the play, even overshadowing the upcoming death of Aaron. As Lucius invokes the "ravenous tiger" whose image has often been interpolated with that of Tamora, we can almost see the dead Queen leaping out at the audience, all subconscious context loosing itself as she returns to life for one final scare. In a way, it almost seems to be a cliff hanger, in which it seems as if the spirit of Tamora and the monstrous feminine will live on far beyond the play itself, even within Shakespeare's own works. For, as Freud suggests, all the monsters of the fiction of patriarchal societies are really women in disguise. And if we are to examine texts such as Titus Andronicus and Alien as examples, the disguise is a fairly thin one.
