Shakespearean seductions, or, what's with Harold Bloom as Falstaff?(Critical essay)

This article positions itself as an intervention in the ongoing reproduction of the authentic Shakespeare, (1) investigating how the construction of his literary authority and an investment in so-called poetic being act as a source of seduction for Harold Bloom, and are consequently available for seducing his readers. I initially present an overview critique of Bloom's theory of literary influence for its masculinist gender ideology, a theory in which the poet's being is modeled on an agonistic and homophobic masculinity. I then elaborate how this theory directs his claims in Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human, where Bloom addresses Christopher Marlowe's (lack of) influence on Shakespeare. Bloom's theory of poetic influence relies on the notion of the poet's work representing a sort of spiritual autobiography: his Romantic legacy is married to a version of the poet's Freudian "family romance" with the precursor, a second child that goes amiss in Bloom's laboring for invention.

Taking Bloom's book on Shakespeare as a case study, the idea of "Shakespeare," his person and sexuality, often guides critical readings. This critical investment becomes especially evident when discussing Bloomian literary influence and notional scenes of instruction and writing. A consideration of Bloom's theory of influence and his reproduction of Shakespeare's ideal authority makes apparent the ways Shakespeare's work, as a cultural text, has played and continues to play a historical role in "authorizing" subject positions. Reading Bloom for how he reads Shakespeare's authorial puissance and melancholia in influence, I unpack how his reading is inflected by a disciplining gender ideology in which the poetic self is assumed under the imagined threat of a sodomitical "castration" by the precursor, Marlowe, an influence overcome--in Bloom's pronouncement--in the surrogative creation-negation of Falstaff. (2) While Freud does not link castration to sodomy in his normative Oedipal model, the sodomitical phantasy derives from a maternal identification and the unconsciously held infantile theory "that sexual intercourse takes place at the anus," as a masochistic residue of symbolic castration by the father, and ideologically speaking, it appears in tow of the imputed emasculation of threatened or symbolic castration. These varied etiologies appear in Freud's formative case studies like the so-called Wolf Man, from which I quote above, or his commentary on the memoirs of Daniel Paul Schreber. (3)

The paper finally looks at how Bloom positions himself as a rejected Falstaffian tutor--what I call his authoritative misprision--while speculating on Shakespeare's position as a cultural and literary ideal, setting up a transference to himself. This transference works through an erotic attachment to authority (in more Freudian parlance, an unconscious longing for the father), or in a supplemental scheme, through the melancholic draw and authority of the murdered father. Framing the contradictory imperatives of Bloom's discourse, "Shakespearean Seductions" considers how his authorial positioning as a rejected Falstaffian figure participates in Shakespeare's ideal symbolic authority, an authority adjacent to a Freudian phantasy of the father's seduction as a castrating figure at the scene of instruction or writing. (4)

Might the critical blindspot--and enabling misprision, in his own language--of Bloom's theory of literary influence be the strong poet's proper gender identification in anxiously disavowing the castrating influence of the precursor? The poet's anxiety and melancholia in Bloom's psychopoetics of influence appear as a displaced version of the agonistic consolidation of proper Oedipal (heterosexual) masculinity, a poetic self assumed under the negated threat of a phantom castration-sodomy by the precursor. Whereas Bloom's dialectic finds out the poet's blind spot in repressed influence, the poet's unknowing debt by whose recognition the theory assumes its critical authority, Bloom's blindspot is his troping of poetic identity as about proper Oedipal masculinity. The strong poet's repression of influence-as-castration apparently follows the route of a primal repression of castration in gender identification, the poet's "repudiation of femininity," that is, of a passive relation to the father, dreaming of his own originary puissance. With grandly desperate wit, Bloom's family romance narrative grafts the poet's refusal of influence onto a refusal of imitation as a passive homosexual desire, a tendentious grafting in Bloom's account from which it draws rhetorical force via the cultural interdiction on homosexuality.

Perversely following the implications of his theory, the article shows how Bloom's theory tracks the poet's incarnation of poetic character as a process of phantasmatic, melancholic identification with the precursor, an identification that repudiates imitation as a castrating, effeminate, and therefore "homosexual" desire in the revisionary ratios. At an erotically paranoid scene of writing, Bloom's strong poet disavows his always already castration by the precursor, where castration is an effect of an initial poetic covenant and emulation. In this move, masculine lack is acknowledged but displaced onto an homosexual "other," an other we will see appears to be internal to that poetic subject. Even where he substitutes guilt for anxiety, Bloom's description of the poet's guilt in eating the "portion" of the precursor is instructive. (5) The poet's guilt is perhaps the result of the "turning back into the ego of homosexual attachment," a turning back that is the consequence of unavowable, ungrievable loss that results in its internalization as melancholic identification. Bloom's theory of influence stages the heterosexual logic by which the poet's refusal to desire, in Judith Butler's apt formulation, the "sacrifice of desire under the force of prohibition, will incorporate homosexuality as an identification with masculinity." (6) Further, Bloom's Freudian rhetoric not only stages the poet's melancholic identifications as a compensation for homosexual loss, but this is staged as an "open secret" (7) in relation to the poet's melancholic genius, losses that supposedly sustain his creativity.