Author: ajordan0826

Othello imparts the tragic story of General Othello and his wife, Desdemona, falling prey to the sadistic whims of ambitious Iago as he takes advantage of their worst insecurities. For Othello, his dark skin brings about unwarranted maltreatment from those around him in the form of disrespect, pity, and inherent hatred; as a result, Othello must work exponentially more arduously to achieve the same outcome as a white person would in his position to achieve the life he has rightfully earned despite his evident talents in strategy and leadership. Iago finds his plans most successful once the main cast departs from Venice to the island of Cyprus, where the isolation offered shifts the power into covetous Iago’s hands as everyone else becomes insecure in close quarters and paranoia runs rampant, especially in the once steady mind of General Othello. Othello‘s isolated location on the island of Cyprus overrides Othello’s empirical senses by enhancing the impact of his greatest insecurities, consequently causing him to cease communication with his loved ones and act out of the ordinary; as a result, Othello reveals that both geographical and emotional isolation meddles with the mind’s logical capacity and ultimately can lead to the abandonment of identity.

         As the play begins, other cast members provide a confusing preview of Othello’s general reputation: some refer to him by his rank or simply by his name while others invoke racial epithets that serve to strip him of his individual identity, often being referred to as “the Moor,” or a north African Muslim, rather than his title or name because they find his racial identity to be foreign and therefore not worthy of respect. With this lack of respect comes the commoditization of his identity as a Black person to be exotic and unpredictable as opposed to the preconceived sensibility of white people, which Othello actively combats through maintaining a deliberately respectful and patient countenance when dealing with the ignorance of others. Not only does he show intentional patience to those that dehumanize him, but Othello has also built an exceedingly impressive reputation as a general and peer within the military whether his actions were in the motivation of deliberately warding off racial stereotypes or simply behaving as himself. Deeply and publicly respected by the Duke of Venice, Othello is aware of his social influence and has no need to defend his honor within Venice’s borders. He instead approaches his disadvantages within European society with a rigorous strategy in dodging and deconstructing racial ignorance by not allowing a single one of his dissenters to find truth in any of the stereotypes they consider damning so that his race has no apparent connection to his adequacy as a general or husband and can thus not be discounted out of racism. As a soldier, Othello is levelheaded and forgiving, and as a husband to Desdemona, he is consistently loving and respectful; however, his desperation to maintain an unwaveringly positive perception of himself within society directly reflects his weakest points of vulnerability⸻ his value as a soldier and the reciprocity of respect within his relationship with Desdemona. As a cunning observer, Iago finds the perfect opportunity to attack Othello’s vulnerabilities once they all vacation on the island of Cyprus because the isolation the island offers possesses the potential to exacerbate the effects of insecurities as everyone is unable to easily escape or distract themselves from not only looking within themselves but also consequently peering into the pondering others’ perceptions of themselves. Furthermore, Othello has lost all sense of security in leaving Venice because he no longer has the blessing of the Duke to irrevocably defend his character, leaving him vulnerable to ignorant eyes and mouths. Iago knows that the island’s finite territory and population act as a positive feedback loop in which every interaction that people have with one another takes on more influence than it might have on the mainland as it echoes off of the shrunken atmosphere of the island’s limited social stimulation until everything may evolve into a manifestation of insecure paranoia. Through casually feeding Othello rumors that his wife may be cheating on him with his second-in-command, Cassio, Iago triggers an alarm within Othello that takes advantage of his insecurities as a general and a husband which amplifies over and over within the close quarters of Cyprus; however, supplying Othello with falsehoods would not be enough, considering Othello is often communicative and would likely ask his wife if he should suspect the rumors to have any truth behind them. Iago remedies this through obstructing any communication between Othello and Desdemona or Cassio while also strategically allowing for Desdemona and Cassio to spend much more time together, hammering the final nail in Othello’s proverbial coffin as he takes complete advantage of their isolation and overwhelms Othello with empirical evidence that his most pestilent insecurities are true. The isolation of Cyprus has a distracting psychological effect on Othello as his senses inform him that⸻ despite what may be emotionally concluded⸻ his present situation on this island invokes a feeling of urgency, as if his relationship with Desdemona or his rank as a general mostly exists in the present on Cyprus rather than in the past or future back on the mainland. Despite what Othello’s mind believes that it knows, his eyes and ears deceive him over and over again as Iago plants extremely targeted and specific evidence that reaffirms his worst fears; his mind knows that he is on an island that exists as part of a greater whole, but his eyes see and his ears hear that he is isolated and disconnected from the land and the people he once trusted so that this duplicitous conspiracy is now his entire world.

         As Othello’s insecurity grows in the absence of familiar Venice and the ever-present approval of its Duke to remind others of his value, he turns to what he believes is the only honest source of information that cannot possibly betray him: empirical fact. Iago informs Othello of supposedly overheard interactions between Desdemona and Cassio that seem to suggest some kind of affair happening right under Othello’s nose. Though Othello might have previously had no reason to suspect this to be true, Iago’s accounts strike his most vulnerable insecurities as insubordination from his second-in-command with a betrayal from his seemingly unwavering wife have the potential to be so painful if true that Othello feels he must protect himself as if Iago’s accounts were factual. The sensorial accounts he gains solely from Iago become his doctrine of unbiased truth as Iago takes advantage of Othello’s instinctive yet unknowingly perverse dependence on empiricism in lieu of any refuting interactions with Desdemona or Cassio. If Othello should approach either of them and demand the truth, Desdemona or Cassio could simply lie and enhance the betrayal; however, in saving himself this pain and isolating himself further, Othello only makes himself a more willing victim to Iago’s schemes. Othello’s very senses are continuously manipulated because it appears as though everyone around him is also devolving into their most immoral selves within their shared Cypriot isolation as Cassio and Desdemona privately spend more and more time together while Othello can only ponder what the two of them do behind closed doors. As Cassio and Desdemona take on the appearance of Iago’s unflattering scheme in Othello’s eyes, Othello himself mimics their apparent devolution in response to Iago’s manipulation as Iago targets his racial insecurities and begins to act exactly how Iago and the rest of his dissenters perceive him: wild and beyond reason. Instead of exhibiting patience or logic, Othello becomes exactly the person he intentionally avoided being as a defense mechanism against all the betrayals seemingly bombarding him: in assuming the identity that best explains his insecurities, his own sense of individuality that once made him appear a victim to the whims of his loved ones can no longer force him to process and come to terms with the corresponding grief. Othello’s betrayed trust cannot be criticized or devalued if he took matters into his own hands and protected his honor by wildly murdering his wife on the word of a fellow soldier; instead, the false perception of his dissenters can only be confirmed when he no longer has to fight off what most people assume him to be and therefore avoids the pain of being humiliated at the center of his most vulnerable insecurities. Isolation is Iago’s key catalyst in Othello’s downfall because the entire process of convincing Othello of a conspiratorial betrayal could not have been possible without maintaining some form of isolation between Othello, Desdemona, and Cassio, which had been previously unavailable in the free and familiar environment of the mainland. In Iago’s manufactured echo chamber of Cyprus, he systematically strips Othello of his identity as a patient general and husband by attacking his weakest vulnerabilities in a lie so painful and yet so believable in the absence of communication that Othello assumes the identity that Iago has created for him in order to protect himself from fully experiencing the tragedy of losing trust in his most valued confidantes. Iago achieves exactly what he wants as Othello finally loses the inkling of his true identity in the violent murder of his wife after experiencing emotional isolation and manipulation that could not have been possible for Iago to execute without the isolated borders of Cyprus and the consequent absence of Othello’s esteemed Venetian reputation to aid him the process.         As human beings, entering a new environment inherently awakens a primal kind of fear in which we assess our surroundings for possible threats or rewards. In entering an unfamiliar and isolated space, Othello was instinctively forced to overwhelm his senses with information about his surroundings as a remnant of threat assessment, including that which Iago supplied. The success of Iago’s plan was only possible in a new and separated setting like an island because Othello instinctively relied on his senses as a vulnerable human in a new environment, unknowingly falling victim to Iago’s manipulation of his very instincts as a human as Othello’s dependency on his senses overrode his sense of logic⸻ in an unfamiliar setting, humans often prioritize sensory input over logicality in order to survive. Not only did Iago strip Othello of his identity as a person, but he also turned his instincts as a human being into a weapon against Othello’s loved ones.

Bras changed my life. I’d always wanted to wear one, just to feel like a Woman with a capital ‘w,’ and I was ready to bring about this grand metamorphosis of estrogen that would tear me apart and put me back together with flesh and blood and complaining of back pain and turning the washing machine on delicates and– wait, that’s it? A B-cup?

I had only gotten A’s my entire life, my name started with an A, A came first: I knew that. But I wanted the letter D to be in my life for the first time that I could remember. I prayed at the altar of Victoria Secret, for the alphabet beyond the first three letters to reform me in the eyes of femininity. I’d always been an athlete with broad shoulders and a flat chest thanks to innumerable hours spent in the pool, and I yearned to match the girls in the locker room that would smugly mention their mature relationship to the alphabet. This dream eluded me completely up until the year I turned 16, only the response exceeded my preference.

Time had led to my separation from swim, polycystic ovaries drew me closer to imbalances in estrogen and testosterone, and quarantine left me idle. Just 16 years old and my cup size began to grow unprecedently.

Flash forward and I am now a very different weight than I had been for most of my adolescence, as that’s just how growing up goes. Funnily enough, I also now wear a D cup. The beginning was mostly terrible. Most of my old clothes clung too tight and rejected my newfound curves. The sizes I had once patronized now led me to question the sanctity of my rounded shoulders and the softness of my limbs.

Up until recently, I felt alien, like my presence in this world was overflowing and gurgling over the confines of my clothes until a bra’s only purpose was to remind me that I was not the same person, the same body I had once been. I resented my young self for her alphabet dreams, I resented myself for letting change happen, I resented the world for making me resentful. And yet a relieving leak metastasized slowly in the dark recesses of my resentment as I looked into my eyes and saw the body I’d always had approaching what it would always be: an adult. I was no longer a child, and my body was an accurate (perhaps beautiful?) reflection of my growth. I felt that I had not only achieved my dream of a D cup, but I was also more interesting, more intelligent, more open, more compassionate, more, more, more. I was more than I had been.

My epiphany had brought me to the divine knave of elaborate skylights and salted pretzels: the mall. I bought new clothes that accepted my body like a lifelong friend, only my journey wasn’t complete— I had to return to my altar and pray for an answer. And so, I purchased new bras. Some were pink like my lips and my stretch marks, some had roses that danced across my shoulders in duets with my freckles, some were silk that matched the softness of my limbs. In these patterns and fabrics, I found the support I’d been longing for my entire life cinched between two clasps. All at once, I felt at ease. My body is now and forever the subject of my worship no matter its changes. I welcome change, for I know that beyond the tides of the present, a new bra awaits.

Sappho remains one of the most revered Greek poets of antiquity with a range of poems regarding love, longing, or both when enraptured with another person (though most often, this person was a woman). Despite her renown, most of her poems were originally private journal entries and letters to familiar correspondents. “To an army wife, in Sardis” is no different, as it serves as a private form of communication between Sappho and her subject, an army wife named Anactoria whom she loves and cannot be with for reasons vaguely undeclared. Sappho is speaking directly to Anactoria through this poem as a confession of internal turmoil regarding their relationship’s inability to continue in their present situation, while simultaneously defending their time spent together as indicative of love’s great hold on the threshold of the human will. Sappho’s relationship with Anactoria reflects a complex association with love and war as contemporaries of one another, ultimately revealing that the pursuit of a love most beautiful can motivate a person to do anything to preserve their relationship, no matter the consequences.

         Though the nature of Sappho and Anactoria’s relationship is romantic, Sappho qualifies the pure positives of romance with the negatives of warfare in sole reference to their love for one another as means to explore the complexity of emotions that love may evoke. She admits that some may consider a “cavalry corps” or “some infantry” the most beautiful sight to possibly behold, only to recant by declaring that “whatever one loves, is,” implying that Anactoria is the most beautiful sight she may behold; even when pitted against the likes of corps or infantries, which also happen to fall within the world of Anactoria’s husband, as she is an “army wife.” According to Sappho, love and war must be equals if they are both capable of producing superlative sights of beauty, whether the sights are the militaristic marvels suited for Anactoria’s husband or Anactoria herself, whom Sappho declares is suited for her perception of beauty. However, to set love and war beside each other in metaphor, such as saying that “being far away forget us, the dear sound of your footstep… would move me more than glitter of Lydian horse or armored tread of mainland infantry,” serves to not only imply that love and war are equals in the powerful emotions they are both capable of provoking but to also show that Sappho’s position as the yearning lover mirrors that of a soldier at war writing to his lover. Sappho believes that to love Anactoria is to be at war as long as they are apart, as a longing lover such as Sappho is loyal to that intangible “light glancing in [Anactoria’s] eyes” above the allure of armor and infantry; or, just as a soldier subjects his fidelity to an intangible idea of his nation’s values, or to the protection of a far-off land that he can only dream of when sleeping restless nights in the makeshift barracks of a battlefield. Sappho finds herself unable to express her longing for Anactoria without including mentions of warfare because Anactoria’s husband halts her reverence and infatuation with Anactoria and therefore reveals the internal genesis of Sappho’s tempestuous love: Sappho wants someone she cannot have and yet she still declares her undying fidelity to Anactoria like a soldier wheezing her last breaths in a war lost to her lover’s soldier husband. This onslaught of warful love causes Sappho’s references to love to bleed into mentions of war because of their similarly potent and volatile effects on the emotions of those they affect.

         Furthermore, Sappho builds upon her complex relationship with Anactoria to reveal that because love and war are similarly provocative, the pursuit of love can often morph into a war to do whatever is necessary to preserve a relationship. To justify her tension-charged infatuation with Anactoria, Sappho likens her love to that of Helen of Troy and her lover Paris of the ancient Iliad myth: “Did not Helen; she who had scanned the flower of the world’s manhood; choose as first among men one who laid Troy’s honor in ruin?” Sappho’s allusion to Helen’s selection of Paris that started the 11-year-long Trojan War communicates that Sappho finds her troublesome pursuit of Anactoria a cause worth fighting for, no matter the consequences: may Trojan empires fall so long as Sappho is with Anactoria. This infatuation marries both love and war as Sappho explains that a nontraditional love places its constituents on a battlefield that only exists because they chose to be together until love is indeed both “the dear sound of your footsteps” and an “armored tread of mainland infantry.” Though their love could cause conflict, Sappho believes that, if necessary, war can be the foundation of love if outsiders threaten to end the relationship. War is not the opposite of love, but according to Sappho, it can be a consequence of the fear that a loving relationship may end: after all, Helen could have never seen Paris again and stayed with Menelaus to avoid conflict, but she chose to be in love with Paris for the rest of their days together for fear that she and Paris may never be with each other again. Sappho arms herself with allusions to the Iliad and metaphors of militaries as she becomes a soldier within her letter to Anactoria, preparing for battle and declaring the honor of their love; a love that she believes is worth fighting for. Spurred by love and unafraid of war, Sappho’s complex relationship with Anactoria reveals that because love and war are so emotionally turbulent, the throes of love’s influence can often fuel a person to ignore the possibly warlike consequences of their actions to preserve their relationship.

         Both Helen and Sappho’s pursuit of love fostered possible conflict; however, one entered her feelings onto a page for four eyes only while the other snuck on board of a ship and caused a war of mythological proportions. Considering the poem was between the two women, the poem was likely a commiseration or a resignation rather than a call to arms; after all, Sappho and Anactoria’s husband were in a war of their own and Sappho knew when to surrender, but not when to stay silent. War was often considered a man’s affair while matters of the heart were reserved for women, but for a woman at war with herself as a result of her love for an army wife in Sardis, she was forever reserved to contemplate both war and love.