Type of plot: Tragedy
Time of plot: Fourth century BCE
Locale: Athens and the nearby seacoast
Written: ca. 1607–8; first published, 1623
THE STORY
The Athens house of Timon, a wealthy lord of the city, was the scene of much coming and going. Poets, artists, artisans, merchants, politicians, and well-wishers in general sought the friendship and favors of a man whose generosity knew no bounds. While waiting to speak to Timon, a poet disclosed his vision to an artist: Timon was depicted as the darling of Dame Fortune, and his friends and acquaintances spared no effort in admiring his favored position. The vision continued; Fortune turned and Timon tumbled into penury, his friends doing nothing to comfort him.
Timon joined the crowd of suitors in his reception chamber. When a messenger reported that Ventidius, his friend, had been jailed for a debt, Timon promised to pay the debt and to support Ventidius until he became solvent again. An old man complained that one of Timon’s servants had stolen the heart of his only daughter. Timon promised to match the girl’s dowry with an equal sum. Then he received the poet and the painter and the jeweler graciously, accepting their shameless flattery. Apemantus, a crudely candid friend, declared broadly that these flatterers and seekers of bounty were a pack of knaves. Alcibiades, a great military leader, came with a troop of followers to dine with Timon. As all prepared to feast at Timon’s bounteous table, Apemantus cursed them roundly.
A great feast was served to the accompaniment of music. Ventidius, having been freed from jail, offered to repay the money spent in his behalf, but Timon declared that friendship would not allow him to accept Ventidius’s money. When Apemantus warned Timon that men would readily slay the man whose food and drink they consume, Timon expressed his gratitude at having so many friends with which to share his generosity. He wished, however, that he might be poorer so that these good friends might know the joy of sharing their largess with him. Timon’s eyes filled with tears, so overcome was he by the sentiments of friendship, as a group of costumed Athenian ladies presented lavish gifts to him from men of wealth. Timon then presented rich gifts to his departing friends. Flavius, his steward, observed that his master’s infinite generosity had almost emptied his coffers. Timon told Apemantus that he would give him gifts, too, if he would cease railing at these felicities of friendship.
Before long Timon was reduced to insolvency and was near beggary. A senator to whom he owed a great sum of money sent his servant to collect. Other servants of Timon’s creditors also gathered in front of his house. Timon, who had never given Flavius a chance to explain that he, Timon, had no more money, asked the steward the reason for the crowd outside. When Flavius told him the truth, Timon ordered the sale of all of his lands. Flavius disclosed that his lands were already sold or mortgaged. Refusing to share Flavius’s alarm, Timon declared that he now had a chance to test his friends. He directed his servants to borrow money from Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius; the servants were then to go to the senators and borrow more. Flavius disclosed that he had already tried without success to borrow from these sources. Timon made excuses for them, however, and suggested that the servants try Ventidius, who had recently come into a large fortune.
The servant who went to Lucullus was told that times were difficult and that Timon’s friendship alone was not sufficient security for a loan. When Lucullus offered the servant a bribe to say that he had been unable to see Lucullus, the horrified servant threw down the bribe money and departed in disgust. Lucius claimed that he, needing money, had hoped to borrow from Timon. A third servant went to Sempronius. Upon learning that Lucullus, Lucius, and even Ventidius had denied Timon loans, Sempronius pretended to be hurt that Timon had not sent to him first, and he also refused.
As Timon continued to be importuned by his creditors’ servants, he went out in a rage and bade them cut out of his heart what he owed their masters. Still enraged, he directed Flavius to invite all of his creditors to a feast. Alcibiades, meanwhile, pled in the senate for the remission of the death sentence on a veteran soldier who had committed murder. The senators, deaf to arguments that the man had killed in self-defense, persisted in their decision. When Alcibiades continued to plea, the senators sentenced him, on pain of death, to be banished from Athens.
At Timon’s house, tables were arranged as though for a great banquet. Apologizing profusely for being unable to honor his requests for money, Timon’s guests appeared at his house expecting a lavish banquet. When Timon bade them eat, however, they discovered that the covered dishes were filled only with warm water. Timon then cursed them for what they were, threw the water in their faces, and drove them out of his house.
Now a confirmed misanthrope, Timon left Athens. For the moment he focused all of his hatred on Athens and its citizens, but he predicted that his curses would eventually encompass all humanity. Flavius, meanwhile, announced to his fellow servants that their service in Timon’s house had come to an end. After sharing what little money he had with his fellows, Flavius pocketed his remaining money and declared his intentions of seeking out his old master.
One day Timon, who was living in a cave near the seashore, dug for roots and discovered gold. As he was cursing the earth for producing this root of all evil. Alcibiades appeared, accompanied by his two mistresses. Timon cursed the three and told them to leave him. When Alcibiades disclosed that he was on his way to besiege Athens, Timon gave him gold and wished him every success. He also gave the two women gold, after exhorting them to infect the minds and bodies of all men with whom they came in contact. When Alcibiades and his troops marched away, Timon continued to dig roots for his dinner.
Apemantus appeared to rail at Timon for going to the opposite extreme from that which had caused his downfall. He declared that wild nature was as cruel as men, that Timon, therefore, would do well to return to Athens and flatter men who were still favored by fortune. After Apemantus left, a band of cutthroats, having heard that Timon possessed a great store of gold, went to the cave. When they told Timon that they were destitute, he threw gold at them and ordered them to practice their malign art in Athens. So bitter were Timon’s words that they left him, determined to abandon all violence.
Flavius, finding the cave, wept at the pitiful state to which his master had fallen. Timon, at first rude to his faithful steward, was almost overcome by Flavius’s tears. He gave Flavius gold, wished him well, and admonished him to succor only dogs.
After reports of Timon’s newly found wealth reached Athens, the poet and the painter went to his cave. Timon greeted them sarcastically, praised them for their honesty, and gave them gold to use in destroying other sycophants and flatterers. Flavius returned, accompanied by two senators, who apologized for the great wrongs done to Timon and offered to lend him any amount of money he might desire. They also promised him command of the Athenian forces in the struggle against Alcibiades; Timon, however, cursed both Athens and Alcibiades. His prescription to the Athenians for ending their troubles was that they come to the shore and hang themselves on a tree near his cave. When he retreated into his cave, the senators, knowing their mission fruitless, returned to Athens.
In Athens, the senators begged Alcibiades to spare the city because its importance transcended the petty griefs of an Alcibiades or a Timon. Alcibiades agreed to spare Athens only on the condition that those who had offended Timon and him should be punished. As the city gates were opened to the besiegers, a messenger reported that Timon was dead. Alcibiades read Timon’s epitaph, copied by the messenger. It reaffirmed Timon’s hatred of humanity and expressed his desire that no one pause at his grave.
CRITICAL EVALUATION
One of William Shakespeare’s most neglected plays, Timon of Athens was probably never performed during his lifetime, and it has only rarely been performed since. The reasons for its unpopularity include its strongly bitter tone and its lack of an emotionally satisfying ending. Further, the play has many elements that are uncharacteristic of Shakespeare’s work: clashing themes, irregular verse passages, confused character names, and a shallow central character. For these reasons, scholars long suspected that Timon of Athens was a collaborative effort. Modern scholars, however, hold that the play’s problems are due to the fact that Shakespeare wrote it by himself, but never polished it because he left it unfinished. His reasons for abandoning the play are not known, but reasonable inferences may be drawn from the play’s curious nature.
Timon of Athens defies easy classification. As a bleak tale about a once kind man who dies a bitter misanthrope, the play appears to be a tragedy. What leads to Timon’s financial ruin and ultimate destruction is, ironically, the generosity that permits him to rise high in Athenian society. His sudden and deep fall points up the fateful vulnerability of human existence—a nearly universal theme in tragedy. Despite this tragic motif, the play has many characteristics of traditional comedy. Because of its unusual blend of tragedy and comedy, it is now regarded not only as a curious experiment but also as an important transitional phase in Shakespeare’s mature writing career.
There are several reasons for regarding Timon of Athens as a comedy. The play’s savage depiction of greed, hypocrisy, and duplicity among the Athenian nobility constitutes the kind of social satire that became a dramatic staple in seventeenth century England. The immorality of the ruling classes was itself one of Shakespeare’s own favorite themes. The theme is demonstrated here in the actions of the governors of Athens, who ruin Timon by cruelly calling in his debts. When they banish Alcibiades merely for seeking clemency for a deserving veteran, they expose Athens to the threat of his sacking the city. Later, after Timon is known again to have wealth, they hypocritically try to recruit him to defend the city against Alcibiades.
The play’s satire is expressed most powerfully through the voice of Timon’s friend Apemantus, who frequently utters crude jokes about wealthy men and government leaders. The sheer viciousness of his remarks is in itself often comical. Even more telling, however, is the play’s use of a traditional device for ending comedies: reconciliation. However, it is not Timon himself who achieves a reconciliation, but Alcibiades—who gives up his plan to sack Athens. In rejecting vengeance, Alcibiades expresses the play’s ultimate theme: that mercy is more valuable than justice. This strongly positive conclusion contrasts sharply with the harshly negative manner in which Timon ends his life.
What makes this oddly ambiguous play most significant within Shakespeare’s dramatic work is the timing of its composition. Hard evidence for dating the play is lacking, but Shakespeare most likely wrote it around 1606 to 1608. These years immediately followed the period in which he wrote the three dramas that have become known as his “problem plays”—Troilus and Cressida (ca. 1601–2), All’s Well That Ends Well (1602–4), and Measure for Measure (1604–5). All three plays are unresolved examinations of psychological and sociological complications of life, sex, and death. Timon of Athens resembles them in its own ambiguities and its attention to the issues of atonement and reconciliation.
Shakespeare wrote many plays in the tradition of medieval morality plays, which combined comedy with moral lessons in order to educate audiences. The central lesson of Timon of Athens is that one cannot find happiness in leading a materialistic life, such as Timon lives until his downfall. While he is financially able to give great feasts and lavish expensive gifts on friends, he believes himself happy and well loved. Only after his money runs out does he realize the shallowness of his happiness. Even then, however, he still fails to recognize true friendship when it is offered by his faithful steward, Flavius. Thus, in contrast to traditional morality plays, Timon of Athens does not end with its hero’s finding happiness by learning how to appreciate more spiritual values. Instead, Timon declines even deeper into despair and he dies miserably. The play thus begins with Timon symbolizing friendship and ends with him symbolizing misanthropy.
Whatever Shakespeare’s intentions were when he began Timon of Athens, the play served him as an experiment in which to work out new themes. After abandoning it, he wrote the plays known as his romances: Pericles, Prince of Tyre (ca. 1607–8), Cymbeline (ca. 1609–10), The Winter’s Tale (ca. 1610–11), and The Tempest (ca. 1611). Like Timon of Athens, these plays explore such themes as exile and return, the absence of moral absolutes, and the transcendent quality of mercy.
—Joseph Rosenblum
FILM ADAPTATIONS
1981 BBC Production
Directed by Jonathan Miller, this version starred Jonathan Pryce as Timon; John Welsh as Flavius; Norman Rodway as Apemantus; Geoffrey Collins as Flaminius; Terence McGinity as Servilius; John Shrapnel as Alcibiades; Hugh Thomas as Lucius; and Diana Dors as Timandra.
Henry Fenwick, in his essay on “The Production” (19–28) for the booklet the BBC published to accompany the first broadcast, quoted producer and director Jonathan Miller as saying that the play is both easier and less easy to produce because few people know it, and the latter fact made it appealing to Jonathan Pryce, who plays Timon and enjoyed the idea of doing a little-known work (19). Miller was intrigued by the ways this play resembled Hamlet and King Lear (although Pryce found such similarities irrelevant to playing Timon). Miller saw Timon as one of Shakespeare’s various “extreme” characters—characters who have “infantile and unrealistic views of humanity,” a fact that helped divide the production into two contrasting halves (19–20). Miller and the set designer, Tony Abbott, wanted a stripped-down setting, with an emphasis on “natural wood colors” (21). It was Miller who decided that Timon should have been in an Athens with a grayish desert (not a forest) to emphasize his isolation from civilization (22). Miller also decided to use Elizabethan costumes to imply Elizabethan courts and Elizabethan ideals about generosity and reciprocity—ideals Timon violates by insisting on giving rather than receiving (23–24). Miller and Pryce agreed about the simplicity of the plot, but Miller found more comedy in it than is usually perceived (24–25). This production emphasized the importance of Apemantus, who is more sensible than Timon, pleased to see Timon fail, but still concerned about him and who gives him wise advice (25). Miller saw Alcibiades as a more sympathetic figure than Timon, especially when he pleads for mercy for another character despite being presented as mainly a soldier (26–27). Miller rejected Marxist interpretations of the play as an attack on money and capitalism, seeing it instead as “much more cosmic than that—about the need to be in the middle of humanity and be a mediator in the natural process of giving and receiving” (27–28).
J. C. Bulman and H. R. Coursen, in their 1988 critical anthology Shakespeare on Television, quoted from several different early reactions to the production. One, from a writer for a periodical called Drama, said that the BBC performance “did little more for a difficult and linguistically spare play than earlier directors have done,” while another, published in the British magazine The Listener, mentioned that Miller’s courtiers were memorable. A reviewer for the New York Times praised Jonathan Pryce as “remarkably in control as Timon” and the rest of the cast “uniformly splendid.” An academic reviewer, writing for Cahiers Elisabethains, considered Pryce “well suited to [Timon],” while a writer for the Los Angeles Times wrote that “Pryce plays Timon so skillfully in [this] impeccable production … that you accept both sides of the man willingly” in this “absorbing work of television.” A prominent scholar, writing for London’s Times Literary Supplement, first discussed problems with the text of the play (a work perhaps cowritten with another dramatist [279]) before commenting on Miller’s emphasis on the play’s divided structure. This writer commended Miller’s “textual manipulation” and his “skillful use of Tony Abbott’s flexible set,” but also found some of the direction “odd,” especially when Timon is shown upside down in the final half, which struck this reviewer as “willful and constricting.” Regretting that Pryce did “not find the strange music which suggests in Timon an awareness of a world elsewhere, a dying vision beyond the ordinary,” this reviewer concluded by commenting on “a sentimental ending to a gallant and largely successful production” (281).
Bulman and Coursen quoted at length from a 1982 review for the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter by Miriam Gilbert, who found the opening scene (with its “indistinguishable” and therefore “superficial” courtiers) “promising” and who thought that Pryce later “carefully balanced [an] inner strain with optimistic tones.” She noted that Timon and Alcibiades were linked by the color white; suggested that some of the ignorant behaviors of the senators seemed implausible; regretted that in one instance Alcibiades was too far away for his anger to be clearly visible; and thought that on another occasion Timon was too hysterical for his words to be clearly understandable (280). She felt that “the play’s structural problems weren’t solved by the setting, or the acting” in this production, and asked, “What is the progression—of emotion, of action, of thought—in the sequence of visitors and soliloquies? What leads to Timon’s death?” She ultimately faulted the “lack of variety—little movement, few changes of tone, the absence of feeling” in the “lukewarm … second half of the BBC production” but noted that another recent production on stage had not been any more successful (281).
Bibliography
Bulman, J. C., and H. R. Coursen, editors. Shakespeare on Television: An Anthology of Essays. UP of New England, 1988.
Fenwick, Henry. “The Production.” The Shakespeare Plays: Timon of Athens, edited by John Wilders et al., BBC, 1981, pp. 19–28.