The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus: Week 3

On Dunces, Fools, and Gobbledygook

[Library of Congress's Prints and Photographs division; photo in public domain]

Scene 2.

(I promise I will not have a post for every scene! We will pick up speed. But I think slowing down for the start of this play and taking a closer look will help the rest of our discussion immensely. So bear with me.)

I mentioned earlier that the structure of this play is very important. It starts out with scenes that alternate between tragic/high and comic/low. That pattern gets interrupted later (something to pay attention to), but the establishment of this structure in the first scenes is crucial to the overall sense of the tragedy.

In Scene 1, we encountered Faustus in his study, ruminating over the various academic fields he has mastered in becoming “Doctor” Faustus at Wittenberg. He found none of them satisfying and used that lack of satisfaction as justification for moving on to study the forbidden field of black magic or necromancy. That scene closed with Faustus promising, “I’ll conjure though I die therefore.” (In modern parlance, “I’ll do it if I die trying!”)

Here I hope you are beginning to glimpse some of the qualities that make Faustus admirable. That kind of determination—do or die—is highly admired in our culture. It is a particularly modern trait.

So, too, is this refusal to be satisfied. Christians view contentment as a virtue (even as we recognize that there is an important distinction between contentment and complacency). But to be discontented—to be someone who just can’t get enough, someone who “can’t get no satisfaction”—this is a quality much (and almost indisputably) admired since the age of Romanticism. And here Marlowe is really on to something in predicting something about the modern age that is just being born and will take full root by the time we get to Mick Jagger and The Rolling Stones.¹

Not many years have elapsed between Everyman and Doctor Faustus. But within the space of those years we see the passing of one age and the birth of the next. This is serious.

And yet, Marlowe does not want us to take ourselves (or Faustus) too seriously.

Enter, therefore, Wagner and the two Scholars.

Wagner is Faustus’s servant, so he is a low or comic figure. The two Scholars are characters who face the opportunity (or trap, really) to be schooled by Faustus’s example. The meat of this short scene is in the speech given by Wagner in response to the two Scholars asking about Faustus’s whereabouts.

I will quote these lines—and try my hand at reading them, too. (My Latin is very rusty.) This brief passage is worth very close attention.

First, let us notice that this entire scene—and the longer monologue of Wagner in particular—is written in prose, not poetry. This is another point of contrast to observe throughout the play. The Chorus speaks in eloquent blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter—we will discuss this form more in a later post) as does Faustus in Scene 1. But these fellas speak prosaically.

Here is Wagner’s response to the Scholars' question:

    That follows not necessary by force of argument, that you, being licentiates, should stand upon: therefore, acknowledge your error, and be attentive.

….   

Yes, sir, I will tell you:  yet, if you were not dunces, you would never ask me such a question; for is not he corpus naturale? and is not that mobile? then wherefore should you ask me such a question?  But that I am by nature phlegmatic, slow to wrath, and prone to lechery (to love, I would say), it were not for you to come within forty foot of the place of execution, although I do not doubt to see you both hanged the next sessions.  Thus having triumphed over you, I will set my countenance like a precisian, and begin to speak thus:—  Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner, with Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak, would inform your worships:  and so, the Lord bless you, preserve you, and keep you, my dear brethren, my dear brethren!

If it sounds a bit to you like gobbledygook, then congratulations, you! Pat yourself on the back. Because this is gobbledygook! It is gobbledygook that “sounds” like educated talk—but only to the uneducated ear.

Wagner is parroting the learned talk of his master—but only as a parrot can: without true understanding.

His first sentence employs the language of logic (or analytics as Faustus calls it). The second and third sentences channel the field of medicine (biology, physical science), which Faustus had also reflected on (the bodily “humors” were understood to shed light on physical health). Then Wagner talks like a lawyer when he speaks of the “place of execution” and hangings and “sessions.” Finally, he echoes the language of the clergyman and theologian (a “precisian” was one of strict, pre-Puritan-ish leanings) in speaking of the “brethren” and “wine” and the Lord’s blessings. Thus, Wagner “speaks” the language of all of the disciplines his master Dr. Faustus has studied.

This is hilarious, folks. Comedy gold. Servants (like court jesters) generally serve to provide this kind of comic relief. Well done, Wagner. Well done.

But this isn’t all that’s going on, as I’ve already suggested.

Wagner’s foolishness offers a mirror of Faustus’s foolishness.

By the end of the play, we will see fully what Marlowe foreshadows here: Faustus is not only a fool, but he will become Lucifer’s servant—not his master.

Next week, we’ll get to more than one scene, I promise. Keep reading!

***

*Introducing a new feature at The Priory: BOOK NOTE

Last week I had the great joy of attending and presenting at the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin University, an event I’ve grown to love and one that has given me life for a number of years now. I was part of a panel on books that posed a great question about the role of book curators (as opposed to creators). That discussion about the importance of the curation of good books (and other things) inspired me to start something here each week about a notable book (or books), whether new, old, beloved, or interesting.

So here you go—here is the new BOOK NOTE:

Blessed are the Rest of Us: How Limits and Longing Make Us Whole by Micha Boyett

This book just released last week. Coincidentally, I first met Micha a few years back at the Festival of Faith and Writing. Since then, I’ve kept up with her mainly on Instagram where I’ve followed her beautiful journey of being a mother to the amazing Ace, her youngest son, who was born with Down Syndrome and was later diagnosed with autism. I think it’s safe to say that Micha’s life changed then, and it has been a blessing to watch both her and Ace and her entire family grow in love and grace through the gift of this precious life. This book comes from that journey and so much more as we all have limits and longings of various kinds.

On a similar theme, I want to commend the work of another old FFW friend, Amy Julia Becker. (It was such a joy to see her again last week, too!) Amy Julia’s oldest daughter was born with Down Syndrome (and has now grown into a teenager about to begin her college journey, which makes me wonder where the time really goes … ). Amy Julia has written about this journey in a couple of books (as well as books on other topics) which you can check out on her website.

Reflecting on my time at FFW, I was struck by how much things can change in the world and in our lives, but when you reconnect with old friends (as I did with Amy Julia and Micha and so many others), it’s a beautiful reminder of the power of constancy even amid change.

I commend these two writers and their books this week not only because of these long connections (and because they are so commendable) but also because their lives reflect so well a good, true, and beautiful view of human limits—the very opposite of the view offered by Dr. Faustus.

In our limits, we can find freedom—and genuine love.

"Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.” – Simone Weil²

1.

2. Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace, trans. By Emma Crawford and Mario von der Ruhr (London: Routledge, 2002), 117.