Kahn’s essay is divided into four parts, including an introduction, all of which present a separate but linked argument for the presence and power of sexuality – particularly female- and language in Titus Andronicus.
While Kahn makes many fine arguments and cites excellent research from Lacan, Strauss, and other critics to support her own arguments, her essay seems at times disjointed and difficult to hold in much regard, especially if one considers grammatical choices such as contractions and an inability for noun-pronoun agreement.
Surface errors, however, could very well be editorial choices or mistakes, and when one considers the essay in its entirety and for its argument, it is both interesting and thoughtful.
In part one, Kahn successfully asserts Shakespeare’s knowledge of classical literature as well as his ability to share that knowledge with a popular, contemporary crowd.
She also makes a strong argument that the purpose of Shakespeare’s saturation of Titus Andronicus with classical allusions is not done out of bravado or arrogance, but instead out of an act of imitatio which Shakespeare hoped would help to bring Latin literature to both the Elizabethan elite and to those striving for such stature.
Part two, “The Father’s Treasure,” demonstrates Kahn’s ability to bring a seemingly secondary theme to the forefront. She states that it is not the patriarchal system at work in Titus Andronicus; rather, it is the ineptitude of the patriarch and the power of female sexuality which are responsible for all of the action and tragedy in the play.
To make this argument, Kahn notes how Lavinia’s worth, as a woman’s worth would be portrayed in classical literature, is as “an emblem of sacralized chastity” (49) and that it is the nullification of “both her exchange value and her symbolic value” (49) done to her at Tamora’s behest which are responsible for the downfall of everyone and everything in the play.
By not allowing Lavinia to marry Saturninus, Kahn argues, Titus is both disregarding his role as a patriarch, responsible for advancing the status of his family but also that of a father, who must be concerned with protecting “the hidden, prized treasure” (50) of Lavnia's womb.
Also, Kahn demonstrates how the initial need for revenge arises from the death of Tamora’s sons, at the hand of Titus. Kahn describes the initial follies of Titus in not sparing their lives, then notes that “one crime spawns another, and the ultimate source of all is the offended, alienated mother” (55).
Thus, Kahn argues in this chapter, it is Titus’s inability to act as an effectual patriarch coupled with Tamora’s sexual power which is the source for the play’s denouement.
Part three, “The Handmaiden,” is dedicated to the inability of Lavinia to express herself without conforming to or being aided by patriarchal construct. Kahn signals out the many times in Titus Andronicus where Lavinia must use “fatherly” aids such as the Latin language and her father’s hand or her uncle’s staff.
Kahn also notes that, in most of these instances, “other men try to interpret Lavinia, mistaking her meanings and appropriating her signs for their own” and thus, “these scenes ironically serve to dramatize . . . the erasure of the feminine in patriarchy” (58). She also points out that Titus distorts Lavinia’s pain and suffering into his own, stealing what little of a voice she has left.
A connection which Kahn does not make apparent enough, though, is the juxtaposition of this muting of Lavinia’s femininity by a patriarchal construct with the ineptitude of which Kahn signals Titus is guilty in part two of her essay.
It seems important that Titus continues to assert a patriarchal control over Lavinia (even to the point of her death, since he himself is her murderer) though he has already been shown to lack in patriarchal responsibility, so much so that this weakness in traditional political structure becomes the cause for the play’s tragedies.
Finally, in part four, Kahn at last focuses on what her title seems to suggest, an important connection between words and revenge. She lays out the many instances in Titus Andronicus where words are used in place of weapons.
Kahn states that this use of language demonstrates, in Titus, “a reluctance to act” (67) because he is more fearful of the wrath of a mother than he is inspired by the words of his daughter, again signifying the importance of female sexuality in power and political struggles.
This connection successfully reinforces Kahn’s argument from part two, furthering her discussion of the importance of the struggle between Lavinia and Tamora as the power-behind-the-power, so to speak.
Overall, Kahn’s essay is insightful and well-argued but perhaps not as solidly constructed or organized as it could have been. A bit more attention to detail would have made the essay both easier to read and more credible.
Also, while Kahn did reference the many instances where written word acts as means for revelation (Lavinia’s revelation about her rapists through text) and where words take the place, but not the power, of weapons, she does not make a strong argument for the importance of the written word in enacting revenge.
It is Titus, not Lavinia, who ultimately gets his revenge and, though there is a clever and amusing moment in Act V, which Kahn mentions in her final section, where Titus is writing down all that “shall be executed” (5.2.13-15) against Tamora, no argument is made for the actual importance of this document.
As Kahn points out, the rest of the design (such as the dinner scene where Tamora is made to eat her own children, or the murder of Lavinia by Titus) is represented through actions, not words. So, by the end of this essay, Kahn has not necessarily proven that “writing is the best revenge."