Muslim Mohda*, Lehmood Al-Mamourib, a,bAl-Mustaqbal University College Hilla ,Babylon , Iraq, Email: a*[email protected]<br /><br /><br /><br />Since Aristophanes, playwrights have cast animals in roles where they represent human behaviour. These playwrights have chosen one or more animals to pinpoint behavioural tendencies of their characters. Ben Jonson (Volpone), Anton Chekhov (The Seagull), Henrik Ibsen (The Wild Duck) and Eugene Ionesco (The Rhinoceros) are such playwrights who use animal imagery to depict, and comment on, human behaviour. This paper does not deal with animal imagery as it is generally understood in similes and metaphors; in dialogue and descriptions. Instead, this paper deals with animals and their images as metaphors of characters in respective plays. Tennessee Williams was one playwright who employed animals as motifs. He never tired of experimenting with the idea that animals, properly selected and harnessed, could best capture the mental state of his protagonists. This paper is concerned with the "why" and "how" of his powerful fascination.<br />Key words: Animal imagery, conflict, metaphor.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Introduction<br /><br />In his personal life, Williams was a fond lover of animals and always had a pet in his house. Attention to this aspect of his personal life was drawn by an apparently trite reference in Richard F. Leavitt's The World of Tennessee Williams, a book prepared from material, both pictorial and biographical, supplied by the playwright himself. It is therefore regrettable that his biographers and critics have generally ignored this - shall we call it the animal side - of his personality. Let us first of consider in detail the following (Hoare,<br /> <br />1996):<br /><br />Williams has had an array of pets that included, at one time or another, a cat called Gentleman Caller, a parrot named Laurita, an iguana of uncertain sex named Mr Ava Gardner, a monkey named Creature, and a succession of English bulldogs named Mr. Moon, Buffo, Baby Doll, Miss Brinda, and Madame Sophia. He has also had a Belgian Shepherd named Satan and a Boston bull named Gigi. But his favourite of all was Miss Brinda, who had every possible defect including walleyes and practically no legs. She used to pose with the fashion models in Rome at the foot of the Spanish Steps, but never for any longer than one hour at a time (Leavitt 1978).<br /><br />The detail, rich in itself, is further supplemented by a number of plays Williams named after animals and birds. These are (Cuthbert, 2013): Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Eccentricities of a Nightingale (revised version of Summer and Smoke), The Night of the Iguana and; shorter plays such as Rise in Flame, Cried the Phoenix and A Perfect Analysis Given by a Parrot, which appeared in Dragon Country.<br /><br />Tennessee Williams Powerful Fascination<br /><br />A reader of Williams would know that he uses animal imagery throughout his plays. For convenience, we may regroup his plays into two categories: one, where animals are present in flesh and blood, participating in the action to illuminate some important facets of the protagonist’s life; and two, though not present and live on stage, they aid, through their well-known behavioural characteristics, to uncover the complex forces that control or beset the character's life or situation (?? 2013). The former category includes (in order of prominence on stage) the iguana (The Night of the Iguana), the goat (The Rose Tattoo), the cat (The Kingdom of Earth), the bitch (Period of Adjustment) and; the lupus or ferocious dogs (The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore). In the second category we see the unicorn (The Glass Menagerie), the cat (Cat on a Hot Tin Roof), the griffin (The Milk Train), the tortoise/vultures and the flies/ venus flytrap (Suddenly Last Summer) and; the bird of Paradise (Orpheus Descending). Even if we ignore this facile categorisation, the fact however remains that animals are just there. Simultaneously, they are unobtrusive, so unobtrusive that it is probably the first time they are seen and discussed as metaphors of the protagonists (?? 2013).<br /><br />These animals and their images owe their existence to their creator's rich, feminine side. C.<br />G. Jung, in his analytical psychology, defined the feminine personality in males as "the anima" (and its opposite in females as "the animus"). The anima, Jung said, was responsible in males not only for moods but also for tenderness, perception and sensitivity<br /> <br />to the feelings of others. A male as male would only be capable of analysis, calculation, aggression, or in other words, all that goes with "logos." Anima personality, on the other hand, endows a man with Eros or capacity to participate in the feelings of others: to love, understand and share emotions. In males, love for animals, plants, infants or tiny creatures that need attention, and cannot be verbalised in human speech, comes from this Eros. That Williams had an enormously rich feminine side is seen not only in his convincing portrayal of complex female characters, torn by circumstances beyond their control, but also in his dramatisation of their aspirations and frustrations. At the same time, his fascination with animals is seen in their presence of one per play, amply demonstrating the truth of the contention (Bloom, 2007).<br /><br />Williams' fondness for animals adds a sensitive dimension to his plays. He uses the known behaviour patterns of animals to illustrate and objectify the mental and emotional states of his protagonists. A character's personal love for, and an unconscious identification with, an animal sheds light on such aspects of a psyche which would otherwise remain unillumined. This is to say that the animals, precisely because of the love or proximity enjoyed with the protagonists, provides a key to the intricacies of the character. With regards to the plays earlier mentioned, the dramatic plot unfolds by weaving into itself the animal's presence (Williams and Waters, 2006). For detailed formalistic analysis, we are not concerned with selecting animal images at a spoken or dialogue level. Instead, the focus is on key issues in plot so as to evaluate how animal motifs help us better understand characters.<br /><br />In The Class Menagerie, the unicorn emblematises Laura Wingfield and her predicament. The animal, which but for a horn on the forehead and a stately lion-like tail, resembles a horse and much sought after by hunters. Its majestic beauty and exquisite features made the royal households in Scotland adopt its image as their imperial insignia, minted even on coins. The fabulous creature, however, has a peculiar side: it is known to live by itself in a state of inexplicable aloofness. It could, it is believed, be tamed only by a virgin in whose lap it would quietly lay its head. The unicorn thus came to be associated with maiden shyness and paranoia by its looks (Notable, 2011). It is in the latter sense that the unicorn image has been used in The Class Menagerie.<br /><br />The unicorn is Laura's prize possession among all the other figurines of her glass menagerie. Whenever the prescriptions, exhortations and nagging instructions of Amanda upset her, she retreats into the sanctuary of her room and begins to play with her glass animals. Unable to face her meaningless existence, she lives in ‘a world of her own - a world of - little glass ornaments’ (Williams 1945) as fragile as her own contact with reality. As Joseph K. Davis (1977) says, (Manuscript Materials, 2006)<br /> <br />Quite literally they [the glass figurines] offer her the only security, intimacy, and permanence she can find in the brutal environment of her St. Louis tenement. Fragile and artistic, these glass figures, like Laura herself, suggest a world other than the one Williams depicts in the play.<br /><br />It is interesting to speculate on the reasons of her love for the glass animals, especially the unicorn, her favourite. Laura, it appears, identifies with the behaviour of the unicorn: she feels as awkward with her pleuritic leg and consequent clumping sound she makes while walking. Most likely, this behaviour is reminiscent of the unicorn with its protruding horn and gives giving her reason to shun exposure as much as the animal did. We can assume that a long-drawn identity with the unicorn, compounded by Amanda’s persistent jabs regarding her unpopularity, give Laura a traumatic inferiority complex. As a result, she ‘drifts along, doing nothing’ (ibidem:261), becoming a pathetic misfit in the world. It is through her association with the unicorn that Williams conveys to the reader Laura’s future prospects: they are not bleak at all, even though Tom, her brother, believes so. Laura’s future prospects are portrayed by the transformation of the unicorn. (Williams and Thornton, 2006)<br /><br />During the clumsy waltz with Jim O'Connor, the gentleman caller, the unicorn ‘accidentally’ loses its horn. The fortuitous loss augurs Laura's return to normalcy. The horn gone; the unicorn looks like any other animal. It is no longer ethereal or abnormal in looks, and with Laura's words, bears out the inference of hope for Laura:<br /><br />Now it is just like all the other horses...It doesn't matter. May be its a blessing in disguise .... it's no tragedy, Freckles…I'll imagine he had an operation. The horn was removed to make him feel less freakish ...Now he will feel more at home with the other horses, the ones that don't have horns (ibidem:302-303).<br /><br />Laura, in the course of the play, seems to shed much of her inhibiting shyness. Encouraged by Jim's warm words, she opens up, laughs and interacts like any other normal girl would. On learning from him about his engagement with Betty, an unruffled Laura hands him the hornless unicorn as a memento of their meeting. He has crashed into her life, broken the deathlike spell and retrieved the forlorn maiden from her castle of dreams and fantasies; because, prompted by his words of encouragement, she seems to bestir herself to overcome her crippling inferiority. Her pressing the unicorn into Jim’s hand signifies her break with her of fantasies. Through this innocuous action, Williams asks his audience to understand that Laura (Spoto, 1997) will redeem her word to Jim about growing out of her inferiority complex. However, Tom, at the play’s end, does not think so. He pities her because she is too trapped to offer struggle. Nonetheless, Laura's action points in a different direction. It offers hope for which the plot does not provide.<br /> <br /><br />In The Rose Tattoo, Williams uses the goat, an age old symbol of aggressive vitality and sensuality, to objectify Serafina's condition. According to James G. Frazer and other anthropologists, goats and bulls are sacred to Dionysus, the Greek god of fertility and abandonment, and were reared through the year and sacrificed at a special function held in Dionysus’ honour. Williams' (1978) Johnston (1979) remarks about The Rose Tattoo point to the essential significance of this ancient ritual:<br /><br />The Rose Tattoo is the Djonysian element in human life, its mystery, its beauty, its significance. It is the dissatisfaction with empiric evidence that makes the poet and<br />mystic, for it is the lyric as well as the Bacchantic impulse, and although the goat is one of its most immemorial symbols, it must not be confused with mere sexuality. The element is higher and more distilled than that. Its purest form is probably manifested by children and birds in their rhapsodic moments of flight and play....<br />(Kolin, 1998)<br /><br />The Rose Tattoo celebrates the beatific and divine; the spiritual and ecstatic in human life. The Dionysian spirit does not refer to mere body hunger satiated through sex. It refers to the rapturous communion experienced through each other. Serafina's love for Rosario is Dionysian in this sense. Secondly, Dionysus is conceived by his votaries as a perpetually young god capable of inspiring them into frenzied abandon. Serafina here, for instance, is so completely imbued with the spirit of Dionysiac exuberance Rosario manifests, that she often mentions him as a ‘boy’: ‘... a body like a young boy and hair on his head as thick and black as mine is and skin on him smooth and sweet as a yellow rose petal’ (Williams 1950:44-45). Another ‘devotee’ of Rosario, Estelle Hohengarten, recalls him as a vital and virile man ‘wild like a Gypsy’ (ibidem:25). Dionysus, thirdly, is depicted as a floral god in ancient mythology. Rosario, too, in this play, is revered by Serafina as ‘my rose of the world,’ ‘the first best, the only best’ Her love for Rosario is a weird amalgam of the physical and the spiritual (Greenberg-Slovin, 2014).<br /><br />Serafina is conceived as a priestess of love; a votary of Dionysus, vibrating with primitive animalism and vital chthonic sexuality. She is described as an emotional woman with an uncontrollable temper and sudden, fluctuating passions. She has a voluptuous ‘heavy sagging bulk’ and walks like ‘a parading matador’. A matador, as we know, excites the bull in the ring to a fury of belligerency and aggression before killing it. Serafina (meaning "fine nights") has in her the quality of bringing out the intensity of response and excitement in her men, both Rosario and Alvaro. Williams later compares her to a ‘weary bull’ and calls her a ‘strange beast in a cage’. The Strega cynically thinks of Serafina as "primitive," uncivilized and unsophisticated, in terms of imagery it is right too. Civilisation teaches us to control our impulses, desires and motivations. Serafina, on the other hand, is her natural,<br />