"A Thousand Dreadful Things"

Background and Context:

Ah, here we are again. Yes, there are still many to come - I haven't even begun to check the notebooks I had at university where I scribbled down essay ideas. Here's some context you weren't aware of: I didn't just do this for Shakespeare, but for every one of my modules and the reason I did it is because I was scared of not being able to make up my mind when the time came to write it. A week or so before starting to write the essays, I would read and deduce what I wanted to do. This may have been a long while ago, but it has really been fun actually writing the stuff I never got to write at university. Yes, it takes a while and I work on some concurrently, but eventually it looks pretty good.

Again, I'm going to leave the links to the other articles below so you can view them.

- "Spurn Fate, Scorn Death" : An Analysis of Shakespeare Through Seneca

- "Instruments of Darkness" : Gothic Tropes in Shakespeare's Plays

- Shakespeare's Language of War: Rhetoric, Power and Propaganda

- "All the World's a Stage" : Shakespeare's Theatrical Exploration of the Human Condition

There may be others, depending on when I release them - but this is the list for now. Again, don't skip out on the citations - there's some really good stuff in there!

"A Thousand Dreadful Things"

Terror and Violence in Shakespeare's Roman Plays

Shakespeare’s Roman plays: Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, Coriolanus, and Titus Andronicus, are deeply engaged with themes of history, power, and conflict. Drawing heavily from Plutarch’s Lives, these plays examine the political machinations of Rome, the fragility of leadership, and the violent struggles for dominance that shape historical change. Shakespeare’s Rome is a world governed by ambition, betrayal, and military conquest, where the exercise of power is inseparable from bloodshed. In these plays, history is not merely a backdrop but an active force, shaping the actions and fates of characters caught in cycles of violence.

Violence and terror are central to Shakespeare’s dramatic exploration of Roman history. The assassination of Julius Caesar, the brutal revenge narratives of Titus Andronicus, and the civil strife of Coriolanus all foreground acts of violence as pivotal moments of historical transformation. In the historical context of Rome, violence was not only a means of enforcing power but also a tool of political expression, reflecting the Republic’s fragile balance and the Empire’s descent into autocracy. Shakespeare’s plays capture this dynamic, portraying violence as both a spectacle and a psychological force that reveals the ambitions and vulnerabilities of his characters. As Miola (2017) argues, Shakespeare’s adaptation of Roman history reflects Renaissance anxieties about tyranny and republicanism, with Rome serving as a mirror for contemporary political concerns.

Dramatically, Shakespeare employs terror and violence to heighten tension, evoke audience engagement, and challenge moral perspectives. The visceral brutality of Titus Andronicus, with its graphic depictions of mutilation and revenge, pushes the limits of theatrical representation, inviting reflection on the consequences of unchecked vengeance. Similarly, in Julius Caesar, the assassination scene becomes a moment of profound horror, marking the transition from order to chaos. As Greenblatt (2004) notes, Shakespeare’s staging of violence is not merely for spectacle but for probing ethical dilemmas, questioning whether political murder can ever be justified. In Coriolanus, violence operates as a defining trait of the protagonist, whose identity is shaped by warfare yet undone by political manipulation. Shakespeare thus uses terror not only as a dramatic device but as a means of interrogating leadership, loyalty, and the fragility of power.

Also, these plays explore the psychological dimensions of violence. Fear permeates the political landscape of Julius Caesar, where paranoia and mistrust lead to self-destruction. Antony and Cleopatra presents terror on both a personal and geopolitical scale, illustrating the consequences of failed leadership and the inescapability of fate. As Hopkins (2019) suggests, Shakespeare’s Roman tragedies illuminate the ways in which violence is internalised by characters, shaping their decisions and ultimately sealing their doom. In this sense, violence is not just an external force but a psychological burden that defines Shakespeare’s tragic figures.

This article examines the ways in which Shakespeare employs violence to explore power, fate, and human nature in his Roman plays. By analysing key moments of terror and brutality, it will consider how Shakespeare interrogates the ethics of political violence and the consequences of ambition. All in all, these plays reveal a vision of Rome that is at once grand and tragic; a world where power is always contested, and violence remains an inescapable reality.

The Politics of Violence

Shakespeare’s Roman plays present a vision of Rome in which political power is deeply entangled with acts of violence. Rome is not only a civilisation built on conquest but also a republic and later an empire sustained through brutality, coercion, and the ever-present threat of civil war. Political authority in these plays is rarely stable, and its preservation often necessitates violent intervention. Shakespeare explores how violence can function both as a means of enforcing order and as a force that leads to destruction and instability.

In Julius Caesar, the assassination of Caesar is presented as an act of political necessity, at least in the eyes of Brutus and Cassius. They perceive his growing power as a threat to the ideals of the Republic and justify his murder as a pre-emptive strike against tyranny. However, the play quickly reveals the futility of such violence, as Rome descends into chaos, civil war erupts, and the conspirators themselves meet violent ends. The irony of their actions is evident, by attempting to preserve the Republic, they inadvertently hasten its downfall. As Greenblatt (2004) observes, Shakespeare presents the assassination as a moment of moral and political ambiguity, leaving audiences to question whether violence can ever truly serve the greater good.

Coriolanus offers a different but equally complex portrayal of political violence. The play explores the volatile relationship between the ruling elite and the Roman populace, illustrating how political power is precarious and subject to the will of the masses. Coriolanus, a warrior who has served Rome faithfully, is ultimately rejected by his own people, who fear his contempt for democracy. His subsequent alliance with Rome’s enemies and his attempt to wage war against his homeland underscore the self-destructive potential of political violence. The Roman mob, depicted as fickle and easily swayed, plays a crucial role in this cycle of violence, demonstrating how public unrest can both drive and dismantle political structures. As Miola (2017) suggests, Coriolanus critiques the instability of populist politics, showing how violence, once unleashed, becomes difficult to contain.

The interplay between violence as a means of maintaining order and violence as a force of destruction is a recurring tension in Shakespeare’s Roman plays. While rulers and politicians seek to use violence to secure their positions, they often find themselves consumed by the very forces they have unleashed. Whether through Caesar’s assassination or Coriolanus’ exile, Shakespeare illustrates how political violence rarely yields the stability its perpetrators desire. Instead, it perpetuates cycles of bloodshed, exposing the fragility of Rome’s political institutions and the dangers inherent in the pursuit of power.

The Spectacle of Bloodshed

Shakespeare does not shy away from depicting violence in its most brutal and visceral forms, and his Roman plays often revel in gruesome imagery. Violence in these works serves not only as a means of advancing political and personal conflicts but also as a theatrical tool designed to provoke emotional and intellectual responses from the audience. Whether through the excessive brutality of Titus Andronicus or the psychological weight of death and destruction in Antony and Cleopatra, Shakespeare uses violence to engage his audience, evoke moral contemplation, and create a sense of catharsis.

Titus Andronicus stands as Shakespeare’s most explicitly violent play, filled with revenge, mutilation, cannibalism, and extreme cruelty. The eponymous protagonist, a Roman general, becomes entangled in a cycle of vengeance that leads to the grotesque murder and dismemberment of his family. The play’s infamous banquet scene, in which Titus serves his enemies a pie made from the flesh of their own sons, epitomises the excesses of its violence. Such scenes were designed to shock and horrify, drawing on the theatrical traditions of Senecan tragedy, which revelled in bloodshed and retribution (Miola, 2017). However, beneath the sensationalism lies a deeper question about the nature of justice and the corrupting power of vengeance. By pushing violence to its extreme, Shakespeare forces the audience to confront the moral void left when revenge becomes the sole motivating force.

While Antony and Cleopatra is less explicitly gory, it remains steeped in the spectacle of war and political terror. The suicides of Antony and Cleopatra are imbued with a sense of tragic grandeur, presenting death as an act of defiance and self-determination. Cleopatra’s carefully orchestrated death by snakebite, in particular, becomes a moment of theatrical spectacle, both a display of regal control and a symbolic rejection of Roman conquest. As Hopkins (2019) notes, Shakespeare’s depiction of Cleopatra’s death transforms violence into a form of political resistance, where self-inflicted death is preferable to the humiliation of capture. The play’s emphasis on honour suicides, battlefield losses, and political betrayal underscores the pervasive presence of terror in the Roman world. Unlike Titus Andronicus, where violence spirals into absurdity, Antony and Cleopatra presents death as both tragic and inevitable, reinforcing themes of fate and the fallibility of human ambition.

The use of violence for theatrical effect is central to these plays. Audiences in Shakespeare’s time were drawn to the visceral thrill of onstage brutality, but they were also invited to reflect on its moral implications. The excesses of Titus Andronicus provoke disgust and dark humour, while the elegiac tone of Antony and Cleopatra evokes pity and admiration. In both cases, violence serves as more than mere spectacle; it becomes a means of exploring human nature, power, and the consequences of political ambition. By staging terror and bloodshed so vividly, Shakespeare ensures that his audiences are not just entertained but also challenged to reckon with the ethical dimensions of violence in history and drama.

The Psychology of Violence and Fear

Shakespeare’s Roman plays do not merely depict violence as a physical act; they explore its profound psychological impact on individuals and societies. Fear, of power, of betrayal, of irrelevance, permeates these works, shaping characters’ actions and revealing their deepest anxieties. Whether it is the paranoia surrounding tyranny in Julius Caesar, the existential crisis of a soldier without war in Coriolanus, or the fear of political downfall in Antony and Cleopatra, Shakespeare presents violence as a psychological force that extends beyond the battlefield and into the minds of his characters.

In Julius Caesar, the fear of tyranny and the fear of anarchy exist in uneasy tension. Brutus, torn between his love for Caesar and his commitment to the Roman Republic, is haunted by the idea that Caesar’s growing power will lead to dictatorship. His decision to assassinate Caesar is not merely a political calculation but also a response to his own internal dread. However, Shakespeare contrasts Brutus’ fear with Caesar’s own psychological state. Despite numerous warnings, Calpurnia’s prophetic dream, the soothsayer’s caution, Caesar refuses to acknowledge his vulnerability, ultimately walking to his death with a sense of inevitability. As Greenblatt (2004) suggests, Caesar’s dismissal of fear is both an assertion of his dominance and a fatal flaw, demonstrating how psychological blindness to danger can be just as destructive as paranoia.

Coriolanus explores the relationship between fear, violence, and identity, particularly through its eponymous protagonist. Coriolanus is defined by war; his entire sense of self is built around his role as a soldier. However, when he is forced to navigate the political arena of Rome, he is paralysed by his disdain for the common people and his inability to function outside a battlefield context. The fear of the mob, which he sees as irrational and fickle, fuels his downfall. When he is banished from Rome, Coriolanus reacts not with sorrow but with anger, seeking violent revenge on the very city he once defended. Miola (2017) notes that Coriolanus’ tragedy lies in his psychological entrapment: he knows only one way to assert himself, through violence, and without it, he is lost. His ultimate failure is not just a political one but a personal crisis of identity, showing how deeply fear and violence shape human behaviour.

In Antony and Cleopatra, fear takes on a different form: the terror of political irrelevance and the loss of power. Cleopatra, in particular, is consumed by the idea of being paraded as a Roman captive, stripped of her autonomy and reduced to a spectacle. Her suicide is not merely an escape but an assertion of control over her own fate. Unlike Brutus, who kills himself out of despair, Cleopatra carefully stages her death, transforming it into an act of defiance. As Hopkins (2019) argues, Shakespeare presents Cleopatra’s final act as both tragic and triumphant, a psychological victory over the forces that seek to diminish her. Antony’s own death, though less calculated, is similarly bound to his fear of losing honour; he would rather die by his own hand than live in disgrace.

By framing violence through a psychological lens, Shakespeare deepens the impact of terror in his Roman plays. The fear of tyranny, the fear of irrelevance, and the fear of an unstable populace all drive the characters toward destruction, demonstrating that violence is not merely an external threat but an internal torment. These plays reveal how power and ambition are inseparable from fear, making violence not just a political tool, but a reflection of the human condition itself.

Conclusion

In Shakespeare’s plays, violence transcends mere spectacle, emerging as a reflection of deeper political anxieties, human frailties, and the cyclical nature of history. Whether through the bloodshed of Macbeth, the tragic deaths in Julius Caesar, or the political power struggles in King Lear, violence serves as a potent metaphor for the fragility of power, the corrosive effects of unchecked ambition, and the inevitable downfall of those who betray their moral compass. Shakespeare uses violence not only to drive the plot but also to reveal the tensions within the state and the psyche of his characters. The political turbulence in his plays mirrors real historical struggles, illustrating how violence is often the result of corrupt or unstable regimes, and how it perpetuates cycles of revenge and betrayal, ultimately leading to chaos.

Today, political violence and terror continue to be global issues, reflecting the same human vulnerabilities and instabilities. From civil unrest to terrorism and war, the themes in Shakespeare's works resonate in contemporary political violence. The hunger for power, the fear of losing control, and the resulting brutality are recurring features of modern conflicts, illustrating the enduring relevance of his portrayal of violence.

As we consider Shakespeare’s treatment of violence, we might ask: how does the destructive cycle of violence in his plays challenge us to reflect on the moral implications of power struggles in our own time? Does the inevitability of violence in Shakespeare’s world mirror our contemporary realities, or can we break free from this cycle?

Works Cited:

• Greenblatt, S. (2004). Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare. London: Jonathan Cape.
• Hopkins, L. (2019). Shakespearean Tragedy and Trauma. London: Bloomsbury.
• Miola, R. S. (2017). Shakespeare and Classical Tragedy: The Influence of Seneca. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
• Plutarch (1992). Lives (trans. Dryden, J.). London: Penguin Classics.