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T. S. EliotA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Thomas Becket is the doomed protagonist of Murder in the Cathedral. Although the play only covers a brief portion of the real Thomas Becket’s life, the subtext of the play explores the past, present, and future of his life in a way that thoughtfully analyzes the long-term influence and complexity of this historical figure. The past version of Becket does not appear in the play, though he is referenced in passing. Whether through the memories of the tempters or the accusations of the knights, the audience becomes acutely aware that the past version of Becket was nowhere near as pious as the man on the stage. Indeed, the past version of Becket was secular and earthly enough to be close friends with the very king who has now become his enemy. Originally, King Henry II trusted Becket enough to make him the Chancellor: one of the most powerful secular positions in England. As such, the past version of Becket is an earthly, secular figure. Now, however, that secular version has vanished, for when Becket became the Chancellor, he renounced the importance of earthly powers and championed the primacy of religious power, transforming into the pious man who now stands before the audience. Just as King Henry II has a powerful influence over the play without ever making an appearance, this secular version of Becket is hugely important to the play even though Becket has turned to a life of piety. The secular Becket of the past therefore becomes a powerful juxtaposition for the devout Becket of the present.
After rejecting the role of Chancellor and abandoning earthly powers, Becket began his religious journey toward martyrdom. This journey took out of England, grieving his congregation. The women of the chorus decry his absence and the suffering that they have endured. The play itself begins with Becket’s return from exile, and even this religious version of Becket is more nuanced than the embodiment of a straightforward rejection of secularity. Instead, Becket wrestles with the nature of fate, wondering whether he can accept his martyrdom in the knowledge that he has privately craved the glory of an illustrious death. The Becket who returns from exile is still a vain man, but he undergoes yet another level of transformation, and the Becket who is killed by the knights is a man who has confronted his vanity and fully accepted the will of God. Thus, he risks the lament of the chorus and the crushing sadness of the priests because he serves a higher purpose. The Becket of the present reckons with the complexities of his mortality, likening himself to Jesus Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, for like Christ, he accepts his death as part of God’s plan.
Once Becket accepts his fate and puts aside his vanity, he is confronted by the knights. They level their accusations, and after filling themselves with alcohol, they strike him down and kill him, creating the version of Thomas Becket who yet exists in the received cultural understanding of history. Through martyrdom, the Becket of the present becomes the Becket of the future; he is separated from his corporeal form and turned into something immortal. Ironically, although the knights try to rid their king of a troublesome priest, their efforts only serve to make a saint of Becket: one whose memory will endure beyond their lifetimes. The victory of Becket is to accept martyrdom as evidence of the triumph of the religious powers over the secular, and for this reason, he sacrifices himself to the future.
In ancient Greek theater, the chorus was a group of performers who played a crucial narrative role. Originating in religious festivals, the chorus provided exposition, commented on the action, and expressed the collective emotions and will of the community. In tragedies by playwrights such as Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the chorus often represented the voice of society or of fate itself. In Murder in the Cathedral, the chorus is made up of local women from Canterbury. These poverty-stricken women are ruled by kings, priests, and local landowners, but in the play, however, they are given a collective voice that defies their disenfranchisement and contrasts with their social alienation.
The chorus begins the play with a long, emotional complaint about the exile of Thomas Becket. For these common people, the religiosity of the priest was a comfort in their daily lives. They do not care for the king’s views on The Conflict between Earthly and Spiritual Concerns, for they have no access to power of their own, and they are comforted by Becket’s sermons about the power of religion in the afterlife. However, after Becket’s exile, they have been cast into suffering. Lacking a spiritual leader, they have been subjected to the whims of the earthly powers in his absence. Even so, they wish that Becket had not returned. They may have suffered in his absence, but they recognize that their suffering—like the king’s power—is transient and earthly. They would rather suffer and take comfort from the fact that Becket is still alive and safe rather than face the possibility that he might die.
Thus, the chorus serves as a direct counterpoint to the priests’ excitement over Becket’s return, expressing concern about the spiritual leader’s almost certain doom. This contrast in emotions illustrates the differences in society that were extant during this era; in Eliot’s play, there is no uniform view on Becket’s return or on his imminent martyrdom. Through its commentary, the chorus gives voice to the voiceless for the first time, for whether earthly or religious, the dominant powers of the day are undoubtedly masculine. Though the women of the chorus may lack the power to change their society, their prominence in the play elevates the voices of the disenfranchised poor women of Canterbury and gives their views equal footing in a dramatic sense.
At the end of the play, the worst forebodings of the chorus come true, and Becket is struck down in the Cathedral because he has returned from exile. However, the chorus is able to come to terms with his death, for the cathedral becomes a holy site, and Becket lives on through his martyrdom. Even so, the chorus cries out in agony at the cruelty and the darkness of the world. The women’s lives have been diminished by Becket’s death, but the lifting of their voices through him and his story offers some shred of comfort for the future.
The knights arrive in Part 2 of Murder in the Cathedral. They intend to kill Thomas Becket and claim to be working on behalf of the king, but they refuse to announce their accusations and resist Becket’s calls for public scrutiny of their actions. They also drink heavily in between their appearances onstage, and one of the knights later explains this lapse as a way of coping with the immensity of their task. The play never clarifies whether the knights actually received their orders from the king. According to popular history, they overheard the king complaining that no one would rid him of the troublesome priest, and they took it upon themselves to kill Becket on the king’s behalf. The correctness of this version of history is not interrogated by the play, and the details are functionally irrelevant, as the knights take on a more symbolic, collective identity as avatars of the world’s earthly powers.
The knights also serve as a collective character in their shared brutality. Unlike the priests and the chorus, the other two collectives in the play, the knights are active characters and behave as if they are in charge of their fate. They act rashly rather than suffering the perceived ignominy of inaction, but ironically, the play implies that even their murderous actions are simply serving God’s plan. This irony is illustrated by Becket’s acceptance of their intrusion. The drunken knights disobey religious understandings of sanctuary and morality when they kill a priest on holy ground in the name of a king who may not actually have given them their orders. As such, the agency of their actions is subsumed into a broader, preordained process of martyrdom. The knights may indeed be acting in defense of earthly concerns, but the outcome of their action is to ratify the power of religion over that of the secular state. By killing Becket, they turn him into a martyr and carry out what Becket has come to accept as God’s plan. The knights ultimately become agents of God rather than agents of the king.
King Henry II of England is one of the most important characters in the play, and although he never appears onstage, his influence casts a long shadow. His disagreement with his former friend, Thomas Becket, motivates the plot, for Becket’s claim to spiritual authority challenges Henry’s secular power. This ongoing conflict illustrates the extent to which Henry feels threatened by The Conflict between Earthly and Religious Concerns. Rather than remaining simply secular, Henry’s authority approaches a level of anti-spiritual resentment, for the king cannot abide to have his authority challenged and makes no attempt to understand the spiritual turmoil that has transformed his erstwhile friend. He views Becket’s growing devotion as a personal affront, rather than as an individual crisis of religion. This philosophical divide has left a bitterness in their relationship and makes any reconciliation untenable, as Henry cannot comprehend the sincerity of Becket’s new beliefs.
In his very absence from the stage, Henry looms as an intangible but powerful threat to Becket’s physical self and his spiritual beliefs. Henry represents the earthly world in all its power and all its limitations, and even his title reaffirms the fleeting nature of earthly power, for he is King Henry II. He is neither the first nor the last of his name, and his life and secular power are fated to come to an end. He is not just one of many kings, but one of many Henrys. Each succeeding king will reiterate the transient nature of earthly power, while Becket’s martyrdom will endure forever as a demonstration of spiritual power. Although it is never explicitly stated in the play, the received understanding of history suggests that Henry perhaps mistakenly sent the knights to murder Becket. If this is the case, Henry’s act of killing his old friend would mean that he has misinterpreted the nature of the conflict between earthly and spiritual matters, for rather than asserting his earthly authority, he is condemning himself to transience and elevating Becket to the status of religious immortality.
By T. S. Eliot