The Merchant of Venice

Much as its title suggested economics, which I find tedious, "The Merchant of Venice" surprised me with its themes of law and justice, which I find enthralling. The mind of Shakespeare seems to have roved human affairs with inhuman breadth.

The layers of the justice discussion in TMV are many. On the superficial level, the main character Shylock embodies both vindictiveness and the letter of the law. He resists those who manipulate the law in order to receive lighter sentences for their wrongs. But the play comes to its reflective height during the courtroom scene, when the learned scholar brings mercy into the debate. The question then becomes: To what extent is mercy part of the law? And, to the extent that it is, can it annul other parts of the law, such as contracts?

I think most would agree that there are certain terms by which, inherently, a man cannot bind himself. In modern law, the term for this is "unconscionability": loans above a certain percent of interest are automatically null and void, regardless of the consent of the debtor. The assumption is that the debtor is not fully rational when he agrees, either because he has been economically (or otherwise) coerced or because he has not accurately weighed the costs to himself. Aristotle offers the classic example that a man cannot bind himself into slavery (though his rationality is autonomy). But modern unconscionability doctrine goes a step further: even if there is no irrationality or coercion in a particular case, the mere existence of such exploitive contracts is repugnant to a society as a whole.

Here is where the contract for a "pound of flesh" enters the scene. The contract was made on the irrational assumption that breach of contract was impossible, and therefore the punishment was irrelevant. But once the contract was made and then breached, Shylock contends that any failure to execute the contract-specificed punishment undermines law. But it seems evident before the court that the execution of such a grisly punishment by the law would be so horrific as to undermine the law more. Thus the interesting question is about what the law is - whether it is expected and legitimate rules of behavior, or whether it is the concrete rules enacted through legitimate processes.

Masterfully, the legal scholar calls upon Shylock to grant mercy, hoping that all he desires is deference. If she gives him ultimate power over Antonio's fate, he retains this power even by granting mercy; indeed, Antonio will then owe him a debt. But Shylock is not so simple-minded as the scholar believes: he wants "justice," not power. Yet the very attempt to compensate Shylock with this bit of power suggests some rightness of his claim. As in ethics, even if the rule can be violated, its violation demands compensation for the resulting victims.

But the fact pattern's complexity deepens further. When Shylock refuses to grant mercy, the scholar turns the tables 180 degrees: she accuses Shylock of attempted murder of Antonio (awkwardly, for trying to spill "Christian" blood) and grants Antonio control over his fate. By doing so, the scholar guarantees that an act of mercy rather than retribution will result. But this again seems to validate the claim of Shylock by skirting his punishment for it.

All told, The Merchant of Venice is captivating for how it deals with contracts, vows, and other such legal phenomena. Later vows about a ring are sacrificed when the circumstances press - and the lady of justice again grants a reprieve. The lesson here seems to be analogous to the classical ethical argument that promises carry implicit conditions (such as unconscionability or force majeure).

The play is also hard-core feminist, which helps... The legal scholar who saves the day is actually a woman, Portia, in disguise.