Corpsing - The Threat Of The Superficial

Cultivating and preserving a convincing, cohesive and thorough outward show is a critical concern both for the producers of a tragic performance, and for the piece's characters themselves. Within the context of a narrative, the superficial appearance of a character can be both wilfully and unintentionally altered by emotional and physical factors, resulting thereby in disguise, deception or the accidental revelation of human vulnerability - such as in a moment of crying or injury. A similar sense of vulnerability lies in the overall construction of a theatrical piece, where the inner mechanisms of a performance can likewise be purposefully hinted at via moments of meta-theatricality, or unintentionally through disruptions to performance, such as corpsing. The mindful crafting of outward show thus becomes a means to control the intended exposure, perversion or concealment of inner intent, and its moments of fracturing or rupture are often revealing of emotional, somatic or formal limits. Misleading appearance is a repeated concern in Euripides's Hippolytus, resulting in Hippolytus lamenting the power of a deceptive superficial display by suggesting that 'each man should have two voices: the one an honest voice, / the other - natural; so that his lying voice might be / refuted by the true; and we should not be duped'. Hippolytus is particularly damning of this ability to 'dupe' when it is held by women, who he likens to a 'counterfeit coin' (620); a descri ption which encapsulates the pervading anxiety about the deceptive potential of the superficial, which may be masking something of undesirable fettle. Determining whether outward show is real or 'counterfeit' becomes a concern in a number of tragedies, and causing confusion around that question becomes an aim of others.

The role of outward show as in indicator of inner constitution or value is exemplified in Hippolytus through its varying permeability for different characters, relative to their status. While Phaedra openly weeps for her condition, and thereby reveals her human vulnerability, Artemis is explicitly shown to eschew this behaviour (1340). As a follower of Artemis, Hippolytus strives to maintain the same physical purity as her, and this struggle is charted over the course of the play as whole. He states that his 'body is pure' (99), and considers the thought of breaking his chastity as 'pollution' (650). The self-sufficient and distinct nature of immortal being is further emphasized in Hippolytus through the detailing of Phaedra's decline, as the Nurse notes that 'it is three days now / that her lips have fasted, that she has kept her / body pure from Demeter's grain' (140). The use of 'pure' here reinforces the notion that surviving without interference from external forces is a state not normally attained by mortals, and therefore an unusual and exalted one. The heavenly nature of physical 'purity' is shown by Mozart & Da Ponte in the starkly contrasting Commendatore scene in Don Giovanni, where Don Giovanni repeatedly demands 'I want my supper!', despite the attempts to guide him away from hedonism and his approaching doom. However, while this purity is an aspiration for Hippolytus, he does cry (1355), since his physical being remains mortal, and therefore, liminal. Crying is not, though, solely revealing of physical vulnerability, since it is also indicative of emotional state, and as such, demands a particular system of social perception. This is considered in Euripides's Iphigenia at Aulis, where it is reported that 'when king Agamemnon saw the maiden on her way to the grove to be sacrificed, he gave one groan, and, turning away his face, let the tears burst from his eyes'. Here, Agamemnon makes an attempt to disguise his vulnerability by 'turning away his face', and therefore present the idea that he has retained composure. The social rules governing this need for composure are further reinforced by the Old Man in Euripides's Electra, where he says in company that 'my eyes / are full of tears, I must just wipe them on my old coat', and thus in stopping his tears, doesn't allow himself to be completely vulnerable. He contrasts this a few lines later, retrospectively stating that he 'knelt down and shed tears' (510) at Agamemnon's grave; a moment that suggests greater freedom in weeping. This distinction between behaviour in company and behaviour in solitude suggests that crying as a physical act is something expected of humans in moments of emotional strife, but that the control of it is preferential in a social setting. Since it expels tears from the body, crying breaks physical continuity and is thus an ungodlike behaviour, meaning its social suitability is dependent on the moral or spiritual inclination of the individual, and how much they seek to obscure their human fallibility. The preservation of unblemished superficial condition often becomes significant in tragedy as a signifier of mortality or vitality, and its disruption is usually conclusive - such as the hanging of Phaedra, or the presentation of Astyanax's body in Trojan Women. In the latter instance, it is noted of the body that 'the brightness show is blood / shining through the torn bones', and so the physical exterior of the child has been disturbed, causing its inner matter to become visible. This visual scenario leaves no room for doubt about the child's survival. Similarly, the dismemberment in the Bacchae is unequivocal - 'the body.I found. torn, not lying in one place, but wide scattered amid the dark and tangled thicket'. Here, the human body has been distorted far beyond its usual appearance, and the damage is clear. The same cannot be said, however, for moments of crisis that do not sufficiently upset the usual physical appearance of a body, as is shown in the immediate aftermath of Medea's gift of a poisoned cloak. In this instance, the physical damage is accumulating via the bloodstream, rather than as a physical disturbance to a visible, outer layer. As such, in contrast to the certainty of more viscerally obvious deaths, there is a moment of uncertainty here, causing Glauce's father to assume her to still be alive and subsequently attempt to revive her.

The potential for doubt in Glauce's death demonstrates the possibility for a person's exterior to run counter to, or not entirely synchronised with, their inward thoughts or status. This physical possibility is actively exploited in an emotive sphere by a variety of figures who wish to manipulate, convince or become purposefully obfuscating to others. In considering his answer to the caskets' riddles, Bassanio in The Merchant of Venice summarises the issue of superficiality: So may the outward shows be least themselves: The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? He continues on to draw examples from religion, arts and myth, demonstrating the problem that being morally dubious does not stop the practice of wilful exterior deception as a skill that is crafted by respected figures in all walks of life. While not classed as a tragedy since the final scene presents a positive, marital outcome for six of its focal characters, The Merchant of Venice contains a significant enough array of tragic tropes for it to remain relevant in considerations of tragedy more widely - including the flesh bond, forbidden love, and the striking similarities between Act 4 Scene I and the court sequence of The Eumenides. In Medea, Aegisthus is taken in by the 'ornament' presented to him by Medea, offering her safety in return for her potions. Following this discussion, however, Medea reveals herself to be 'tainted and corrupt' and 'seasoned with a gracious voice' by asking her Nurse: 'do you think I would ever have fawned so on this man, / except to gain my purpose, carry out my scheme?'. This use of beguiling ornament to deceive and manipulate is also employed by Orestes and Pylades in Aeschylus's The Libation Bearers in order to win over Clytemnestra before killing her, and by Odysseus and Neoptolemus in Philoctetes to puppeteer Philoctetes into giving over the prized bow. Furthermore, while these particular instances of ornament are designed to conceal the true intentions of manipulative characters, the use of euphemism acts a form of ornament to conceal developments in then plot more broadly. This is particularly evident where messengers - whether Messengers as distinct characters, or other named characters bearing news - purposefully disguise the true meaning of their reports in order to protect the recipient. Talthybius in The Trojan Women uses euphemism to attempt to allay the shock and desperation of Hecuba about the allotted fates of each of the women (260). His reticence counteracts her passion, and forces her to be specific in her questioning, and thus drawing the truth out over an extended dialogue.

The linguistic disguise enacted by euphemism and pretence in these works hints at a practice which is also performed more physically through the use of costume. While actors would themselves be wearing costume in any case, there are moments - notably in the Bacchae - where an additional layer of costume is donned within the play, allowing characters access to a different set of capabilities. However, while costumes enable their wearers to adopt different personas or skills - such as Pentheus being allowed to join the frenzy by dressing as a woman - this ability is only temporary and superficial, and can easily be revoked. For Pentheus, the result is beheading; for Orestes staying in his mother's house without revealing his true identity, the result is a gruelling pursuit by the Furies; and for the eponymous hero of Don Giovanni, the result of his masquerade is initially to get to his desired romantic target, but then is eventually to be caught and dragged to hell. As such, adopting a costume presents a risk, since while it can fulfil a short-term need, reality is instantly resumed once it is stripped away - and it is resumed with an additional sense of guilt or shame.

This purposeful disruption to the continuity of character draws attention to performance formality through its consideration of the importance of costume; this becomes a moment of revealing the inner workings of performance caused by a focus on its exterior. The construction of the ball scene in Don Giovanni (Act 1 Scene 4) purposefully achieves this effect through its inclusion of several orchestras, where the real band for the performance continues to accompany the vocal lines, but there are two further on-stage bands that are brought in to accompany the dance of the ball. These various lines of music are purposefully designed to conflict through their differing time signatures, and the result is an unavoidable, obvious cacophony. However, the continued presence and struggles of the 'actual' orchestra maintains an awareness of what 'should' be going on, and how this performance is usually run. This combination of self-awareness and disruption to continuity is explored at length by Beckett in Endgame, and Clov lands on the following conclusion: Hamm: All is what? Clov: What all is? In a word? Is that what you want to know? Just a moment (He turns the telescope on the without, looks, lowers, the telescope, turns towards Hamm) Corpsed. (Pause.) Well? Content? Here, 'corpsed' represents how Clov would encapsulate the universe in a word, and therefore also just how destructive to performance he views it to be. In the fractured, repetitious and nihilistic world of Endgame, Clov is viewing the world with lament and viciousness, and the choice of the term 'corpsed' is a statement of loss of hope; it indicates to Hamm that the pretence is over; someone has ruined a performance and the interior of the piece has been exposed. It indicates that the performance can continue, but that it will forever be - in the term coined by Hippolytus - 'shattered' once the truth has been revealed.

The power of outward show is not purely 'superficial' in the modern, pejorative sense of the word - when it is purposefully manipulated towards a certain end, it has significant power to change the thoughts, opinions and actions of others. When specifically relating to an individual, it also functions as a representation of their internal concerns - though this may not be an accurate representation, and indeed it may be a controlled or altogether different one. Outward show may also be the salient indicator of life or death, and as Sophocles notes in Antigone, it may still be a fallible one, since 'when a man has lost all happiness, / he's not alive. Call him a breathing corpse'. A 'breathing corpse' therefore is a human body waiting for animation; either by 'happiness' as Sophocles suggests, or by theatrical purpose, as Beckett suggests. Furthermore, the image of a 'breathing corpse' is deterring, but comprehensible; it shows the human being as a compound product of biological structures, one that is waiting for a more spiritual, complex and less easily-definable liveliness. It is this empty, mechanical version of a complete work that the exteriority of theatre is constantly fighting to shield, and while purposeful hints at its inner can be used for effect, unintentional moments of exposure can ruin the complex liveliness of performance. These broad struggles of theatre are felt in microcosm by figures fighting to preserve their own infallibility, such as Hippolytus, and those who come up against the difficulties of consistent external identity, such as Bassanio, Creon, Aegisthus, Pentheus, Agave, Zerlina, Philoctetes and Clytemnestra. As mortals, the outer human exterior is susceptible to interference from both internal and external factors, and so it acts as a middle ground between the two forces. If the mechanisms governing the exterior are exposed a little, the piece or person may win an endearing quality; such as Aegisthus warming to Medea when he perceives what he believes to be her desperation; or the thrilling and rampant chaos of three orchestras playing simultaneously in Don Giovanni. However, if the mechanisms are exposed too much, the piece or person is 'corpsed' or 'shattered', and only the arbitrary length of the performance, rather than its worth as a piece of entertainment, keeps it alive. Realising they are 'corpsed', Clov asks 'what is there to keep me here?', to which Hamm's only offering is, 'the dialogue'.