Critical Inquiry

Summer 1999
Volume 25, Number 4

Excerpt from
"   " (Quotation Marks)
by Marjorie Garber

If, for the sake of a crowded audience you do wish to hold a lecture, your ambition is no laudable one, and at least avoid all citations from the poets, for to quote them argues feeble industry. -- Hippocrates, Precepts
When Representative Henry Hyde addressed the Senate on the solemn occasion of the impeachment hearings, he gave his remarks the requisite element of gravity by salting them with familiar quotations--or quotations that seemed as if they ought to be familiar. For example, he cited Sir Thomas More, whose conscience would not permit him to acquiesce in the tricky business of Henry VIII's divorce and remarriage. But Hyde's quotation from this Tudor statesman had an oddly contemporary ring. "As he told his daughter Margaret," the congressman from Illinois informed the Senate, "'when a man takes an oath, Meg, he's holding his own self in his hands like water. And if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again.'"1 Here the voice of Thomas More comes through slightly muffled; it is in fact the character of More from Robert Bolt's 1960 play A Man for All Seasons that is talking.2

The staffer who found this quotation apposite might have been inspired by Bolt's ardent preface, which explained the playwright's choice of hero: "A man takes an oath only when he wants to commit himself quite exceptionally to the statement, when he wants to make an identity between the truth of it and his own virtue; he offers himself as a guarantee. And it works. There is a special kind of shrug for a perjurer; we feel that the man has no self to commit, no guarantee to offer."3 But quoting Robert Bolt lacks the force--historical, religious, canonical--of quoting Sir, later Saint, Thomas More. Perhaps mindful of Robert Burton's famous declaration about quoting from the classics, "'A dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant may see farther than a giant himself,'"4 the tall, stooped Hyde craned across the ages, speaking to the future through a voice from the "past."

That I elect to stress the spuriousness of this past by enclosing the word in quotation marks will indicate, at the outset, one of the curious properties of these typographical signifiers. For in their present condition of use, they may indicate either authenticity or doubt. Make that "authenticity" or "doubt." This is a property to which we shall want to return. But let us continue, for a moment, with the impeachment hearings.

In quest of authority, congressman Hyde also, it is almost needless to say, quoted Shakespeare in his opening remarks. And here the author was so familiar that he did not need to be named. "Our cherished system of justice will never be the same after this," Hyde intoned. "Depending on what you decide, it will either be strengthened in its power to achieve justice, or it will go the way of so much of our moral infrastructure and become a mere convention full of sound and fury, signifying nothing" ("FC," p. A26).

It's probably unsportsmanlike to fault Hyde for wrenching this quotation out of context; both "sound and fury" and "signifying nothing" have long ago passed into the general wordhoard, having been borrowed by everyone from William Faulkner to Malcolm Evans.5 But MacbethÕs famous cry of despair on the meaninglessness of (his) life, uttered in response to the news of his wife's death, seems in a way singularly inappropriate for a political speech the entire point of which is to mark the meaningfulness of the moment. "Life," in Macbeth's formulation,

is
A poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.6
The point of Hyde's citation was to rouse the Senate to greatness by urging them to avoid reducing justice to "sound and fury, signifying nothing." Nonetheless, the proximity of "poor player" (a bad, unskilled, or hammy actor) and "idiot" seem slightly risky in the context of an address to a group of U.S. senators. The New York Daily News found some amusement in the omission: "Hyde said a violated oath was 'full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.' But he left out the preceding line that life "'is a tale told by an idiot.'"7 Identifying these as "Shakespeare's words from Macbeth," the paper implied that this view of "life" was somehow "Shakespeare's" rather than his character's. But at least the Daily News got the play right. An article in Newsday written by "an attorney specializing in intellectual property law" blithely described Hyde as beginning his remarks "with a quote from 'Hamlet'--'full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.'"8

A scholar once wrote of Shakespeare that "to cite him in a lecture or an essay was to give lustre and prestige to the words and ideas that surrounded his magic name."9 But does that lustre attach itself to the speaker as readily as to the writer? Or does the "poor player" syndrome kick in, reminding the audience all too clearly that the speaker is not Shakespeare or, to cite another once-canonical text, "not Prince Hamlet," but rather an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.10
By the end of the impeachment process even the New York Times had grown slightly restive. "Mr. Hyde," the Times reported, "mustered a veritable Bartlett's in offering his last impassioned plea for conviction. 'We happy few,' he said, turning in Shakespearean tribute to his fellow House Republicans." And, "Quoting Gibbon, Mr. Hyde acidly denounced the President by comparing him to a corrupt Roman emperor, Septimius Severus: 'Severus promised, only to betray; he flattered, only to rule; and however he might occasionally bind himself by oath and treaty, his conscience, obsequious to his interest, always released him from the inconvenient obligation.'"11 A journalist writing for another newspaper had earlier dismissed the impeachment debate in the House as "blue suits quoting from Bartlett's."12 The implication was that they were doubly out of fashion; they weren't, in any way, saying something new. Under these circumstances, was the quotation more authoritative than the speaker's own voice? or less?

Who is speaking when we speak in quotation? In the case of Hyde's address to the Senate, was it Hyde, More, or Robert Bolt? Hyde, Macbeth, Shakespeare--or J. Alfred Prufrock?

1. "Front and Center, Five Accusers,"Boston Globe, 15 Jan. 1999, p. A26; hereafter abbreviated "FC."

2. See Robert Bolt, A Man for All Seasons (New York, 1962), p. 140. Here is how the event was recorded by More's son-in-law and biographer, William Roper:

Whereas the oath confirming the Supremacy and matrimony was by the first statute in few words comprised, the Lord Chancellor and Master Secretary did of their own heads add more words to it, to make it appear unto the King's ears more pleasant and plausible. And that oath, so amplified, caused they to be ministered to Sir Thomas More and to all others throughout the realm. Which Sir Thomas More perceiving, said unto my wife: "I may tell thee, Meg, they that have committed me hither for refusing of this oath not agreeable with the statute, are not by their own law able to justify my imprisonment. And, surely, daughter, it is great pity that any Christian prince should by a flexible council ready to follow his affections, and by a weak clergy lacking grace constantly to stand to their learning, with flattery be so shamefully abused."
(William Roper, The Life of Sir Thomas More, in Two Early Tudor Lives, ed. Richard S. Sylvester and Davis P. Harding [New Haven, Conn., 1962], p. 240).

3. Bolt, A Man for All Seasons, pp. xiii-xiv.

4. Robert Burton, quoting Didacus Stell, "Democritus to the Reader," The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621; New York, 1862), p. 39.

5. See William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury (New York, 1929), and Malcolm Evans Signifying Nothing: Truth's True Contents in Shakespeare's Texts (Athens, Ga., 1986).

6. William Shakespeare, Macbeth, in The Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans et al. (Boston, 1974), 5.5.24-28, p. 1337.

7. Thomas M. DeFrank et al., "A Legacy from Era of Nixon," New York Daily News, 15 Jan. 1999, p. 38.

8. Jonathan Kirsch, "Droning Does Not a Good Case Make," Newsday, 18 Jan. 1999, p. A31.

9. Esther Cloudman Dunn,Shakespeare in America (New York, 1939), p. 250.

10. T. S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909Š1950 (New York, 1952), p. 7.

11. Francis X. Clines, "Slouching toward Deliverance," New York Times, 9 Feb. 1999, p. A16.

12. Richard Roeper, "In Senate, We Haven't Witnessed Nothing Yet," Chicago Sun-Times, 20 Jan. 1999, p. 11.

Marjorie Garber is William R. Kenan, Jr. Professor of English and director of the Center for Literary and Cultural Studies at Harvard University. She is the author of three books on Shakespeare -- Dream in Shakespeare (1974), Coming of Age in Shakespeare (1981), and Shakespeare's Ghost Writers (1987) -- and of a number of books of cultural criticism and theory, including Vested Interests: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety (1992), Vice Versa: Bisexuality and the Eroticism of Everyday Life (1995), and Dog Love (1996). Her most recent book is Symptoms of Culture (1998).


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