Power Dynamics: Physical Strength and Political Strength the Same?

We see a lot of different power dynamics in Coriolanus, most notably the power dynamic between Coriolanus himself and his mother, Volumnia. Volumnia seems to have the most pull with Coriolanus out of anyone in the play, which makes sense. She raised him to be a formidable warrior and conditioned him to be politically appealing. There’s the rub though, Coriolanus seems only to be appealing politically, which brings me to the question… while Coriolanus has the physical strength to bear the scars of battle, does he have the psychological and emotional might and stability required to be a true ruler of the masses?

            My answer: no, he really doesn’t.

            So what’s happening here, if Volumnia has been able to raise such a physically strong warrior only to ultimately fall short in raising him to have the capacity to run a government swiftly and efficiently? I believe that it comes right down to the simple fact that Volumnia was so busy grooming her son to be a warrior and that strength is the ultimate ruler that when it came time for him to take a true political position, he depended so much on her that he couldn’t really do it. Instead, he failed and got stabbed. Who didn’t get stabbed though? Volumnia. The loss of her son gave her the chance to rise up to power and take care of things like should have been done in the first place.

            Is this saying something about the power dynamics of men and women in general? Is Shakespeare trying to advocate for women in power, setting forth the idea that while men might be physically stronger in some instances, that women have the capacity to pull the strings and actually run a government? It certainly does seem revolutionary, even in today’s society…

A Tragic UFO (Unidentified Formidable Offspring)

The battle scene in Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Coriolanus where Coriolanus fights through the city of Corioles and emerges bloody and wounded reminds me of the film Alien vs. Predator (2004) in relation to his "second birth." In the film, a group of archaeologists investigate a mysterious heat signature coming from under an abandoned whaling post. The explorers discover a large undersea pyramid containing large amounts of warmth, symbolizing the womb with dynamics similar to Shakespeare’s work. For example, once in the pyramid, the explorers attempt to penetrate deeper into the structure but encounter a confusing series of tunnels that open and close without warning. This is similar to the gates of Corioles in that the citizens open the gates only to trap Coriolanus as he invades the city. When Lartius urges Coriolanus to give up the fight, Coriolanus replies, “My work hath yet not warmed me” (1.5.18). He desires to fight through the searing battle to win victory and honor much like the movie’s characters search relentlessly for the source of warmth itself. At the conclusion of the battle, the city of Corioles as a womb “gives birth” to a victorious Coriolanus through its gates much like the fiery expulsion of the archaeologists out of the pyramid through a long, narrow passageway (birth canal).

            Another similarity between the works deals with situational gender roles. In Shakespeare’s play, Coriolanus finds himself conflicted between the interests of Volumnia and Aufidius, trusting them both and experiencing betrayal. Similarly, the explorers discover that the goal of their mission conflicts with the goals of the aliens and predators. In the end, the massive, masculinized queen of the aliens (Volumnia) confronts the central predator warrior (Aufidius). In any case, though, whether Volumnia actualizes her goals as an influential mother or Aufidius realizes his ends, Coriolanus loses. Ironically, the motto of the movie reads, “Whoever wins, we lose,” referring to the similarly precarious circumstances of the explorers and humanity in general as it is represented in the small yet diverse group. In my opinion, the movie emphasizes the influential power of Volumnia by showing the awe-inspiring power of her breaking free of her longstanding chains (her limited role in society as a woman) to finally have a chance to make meaningful change in a male-dominated society. Yet the closing camera shot shows the queen sinking beyond sight into the black abyss of the Antarctic Ocean, demonstrating that Volumnia will ultimately sink under the influence of the preferred gender roles of patriarchal Rome where men expect women to stay out of the public eye. Though the Roman citizens declare Volumnia to be a hero because of her role in Coriolanus’s return, she ultimately returns home defeated in a sense, for she is unable to alter Coriolanus’s final fate. What does everyone else think?

Happy Father's Day, Volumnia?

 In recent years through social media as the third Sunday rolls around in June, I have seen a rise in the trend to wish single mother’s ‘Happy Father’s Day’. As this seems to be a relatively new phenomena, the question arises, is it appropriate to wish single mothers, ‘Happy Father’s Day’? I’ve seen both sides of the debate. One single mother’s post I read regarding this new way in giving thanks reads, “Please DO NOT Wish Me A Happy Father's Day...A Note To Single Moms Holding It Down Alone.” Her argument, no matter how affective the mother’s ability is to take on both parenting roles, or make up for the lack of one; she is not her son’s father. Another woman who takes a similar stance claims, “Misdirecting a day dedicated to our men overlooks the foundation laid by good fathers,” she feels that in by doing this, it is taking a way a special day to honor, well, honorable fathers. On the other hand, a young woman, who grew up in single-mother home and is now a single-mother herself writes, “So thank you to every Mother who has raised their children without a partner. You are truly an inspiration. Happy Father’s Day to you.” Her argument claims that it can be a very lonely and looming day for those who have to live without.

So what would Volumnia’s stance be on the issue? Would she prefer to only be honored as the strong mother on Mother’s Day, or would she relish on being honored on both days? 

A missing parent is a common element among Shakespeare’s plays, and many of his single parents, play the roll, either mother or father, to the extreme, Volumnia’s parenting approach can be considered the “fatherly-motherly” approach. “When yet he was tenderbodied and the only son of my womb, when … a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering how honour would become such a person … was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him” (1.3). Volumnia rejects the role of playing the over-protective mother, sending her young son, knowingly, to a violent war. She finds pleasure in her son’s battle wounds, where most mothers would feel the need to nurture in the situation. Volumnia has raised Coriolanus in dominant, masculine, and stereotypical paternal ways, it is his maternal bonds that hold him captive to her commands. At the same time, Volumnia is sure to utilize her maternal rights to maintain more leverage over Coriolanus, “Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, That brought thee to this world” (5.3). I think Volumnia would be more content to be honored on a day set a side, just for her, and her alone.