Being Symbolically Blind in Shakespeare

This post might run a little long because a lot has happened in the development of my paper. The story, starting from two days ago:

First, I started pursuing the lead that David recommended to me: disability studies. In my last post, I mentioned that approach only because . . . well, I had heard of it, and it seemed like it could be applicable to Gloucester losing his eyes in King Lear and the subsequent cliffs of Dover scene with Edgar. I decided to look into blindness in literature from the perspective of the blind, and I got an intellectual punch in the gut.

This speech challenged entirely the way I view the symbolism of blindness in literature. In it, Kenneth Jernigan discusses—and, frankly, excoriates—the stereotypical ways blindness is treated in literature. Here in Jernigan tearing down blindness as a symbol of other blessings gained:

 CC License by M needs a docctor

The sickest of all the romantic illusions is the pious opinion that blindness is only a blessing in disguise. In "The Blind Girl of Wittenberg", by John G. Morris, a young man says to the heroine: "God has deprived you of sight but only that your heart might be illuminated with more brilliant light." Every blind girl I know would have slapped his face for such insulting drivel; but the reply of this fictional female is worse than the original remark: "Do you not think, sir," she says, "that we blind people have a world within us which is perhaps more beautiful than yours, and that we have a light within us which shines more brilliantly than your sun?"

Jernigan is also critical of the way Gloucester is portrayed in King Lear, saying that Shakespeare "makes the blinded Gloucester in 'King Lear' so thoroughly confused and helpless that he can be persuaded of anything and deceived by any trick." And at this point, even though I had been attentively and sympathetically reading the rest of the article, I revolted.

I love the cliffs of Dover scene in King Lear, and though I think there may be some dark humor in it, I hardly see it as mocking Gloucester in his blindness. Though this idea is still tentative, I think Edgar is instead trying to construct a new life for his father, who is filled with grief at the violence he has undergone. In other words, we shouldn't read this scene as literal comedy but as symbolic, renewing drama, culminating in Edgar's line "Thy life's a miracle" (Lear IV.xi).

I will be writing further posts about blindness in disability studies, but I figure this post is a good start for explaining my paper.