So I think the reason why I am so enchanted by The Bastard as a character is that he’s a perfect blend of a Shakespearean hero and a Shakespearean fool
Oh, totally. That’s so true, I can’t believe I haven’t thought of that, and I’m struggling to think of any other Shakespeare character who walks that line as perfectly as he does.
I think he’s also a great example of a character that has very little power in the world of the play but so much in the narrative. He’s no usurping bastard like *cough* some other people we know, he holds no land or titles, but he’s got almost as many lines as John himself. He also shares a name with Philip the King of France (historically accurate, maybe, but 1H4 proves that Shakespeare’s not above using historically shared names for all the mirroring) and (spoiler alert) he actually gets the last line of the play, an honor usually reserved for the king or the most powerful person around. He’s just such a fantastic character.
And yes, totally tag me if you elaborate more on that!
I really want to try and break this one down, so here’s a bunch of word mess.
So, the major trait that all Shakespearean clowns/fools share is that they serve to critique the societal norms and attitudes of the play they’re in. The Fool is King Lear exists to mock and break down the play’s norms around aging and authority. Touchstone in As You Like It exists to parody Orlando’s stereotypically-Petrarchan attitude about love, mocking his poetry to Rosalind and composing his own, more sexual verses to counter Orlando’s courtly-love ideals. My professor always said that the clown or the fool is one of the most important characters to watch since they always represent some greater literary force.
So it really must say something about kingly authority and the ideas of succession that an illegitimate smart-mouth can waltz into the throne room and then leave the knighted son of one of England’s greatest kings. John’s treatment of Phillip and his younger brother could very well be a foil to his own successional issue. John is combating claims that he is not the legitimate King of England, so it would make sense that he would rule that illegitimacy holds no claim on inheritance. The Bastard makes a play on that same idea in his monologue after becoming Richard Plantaganent. In it, he fully illustrates how tickled he is at the sudden change of his fortunes and how he plans on using his newly-found social status to his advantage. To have such a vital standard of law so easily overcome doesn’t do much to build faith in a supposedly-divinely-appointed king.
To make things worse for John and the flimsy platform of legitimacy he’s standing on, The Bastard is everything that a king should be; everything that a son of Coeur-de-lion should be, despite his upbringing. He’s witty and battle-tested, brimming with well-deserved cockiness and the hunger to avenge the death of his father. But The Bastard’s real positioning as the fool really comes through in his behavior. Despite his sudden jump on the social ladder, he’s the same as he’s always been. Cracking cuckoldry jokes during a high-stakes political meeting, refusing to participate in the courtly expectations of John’s lords, and happily bucking the Catholic Chuch’s authority and sacking churches is just business as usual for The Bastard, which is why I love him.
Now, this rejection of courtly expectations should make him a bad politician, an ineffectual commander, or a power-hungry lord, but it doesn’t! His understanding of the lower classes allows him to command John’s armies with skill and inspire loyalty to his brother’s cause. Contrasted to Hubert, The Bastard is a figure of sanity in a world driven mad by politics. He’s not motivated by promotion or ambition; he’s disgusted by Arthur’s death and that Joh ordered it. Hell, the dude gives an entire monologue about how self-interest is ruining the world - which is a fairly refreshing point of view in King John’s court.
Oh, I don’t know, it’s just the fact that this character struts into the play, reaps the benefits of his new position and keeps his level-head, bond so deeply with his newfound family that he pledges his life and sword to his grandmother, half-brother, and his nephew but can still make time for politically-charged dick jokes, that really hits home Shakespeare’s ability to write humans.
