As a character, Julius Caesar is defined by hubris and commitment to the grandiose. In Shakespeare’s eyes, Caesar is the ultimate emperor: simultaneously destructive and strangely magnificent in his yearning for omnipotence. The conspirators accuse Caesar of ambition, and his actions back up their claim: he does fight for full dominance over Rome. The adoration of the people he receives is used as a nourishment for ego and arrogance. This view of himself as a living legend ultimately becomes his own undoing, as Caesar continuously ignores ill omens and prophesies throughout the play, as they interfere with his views on himself. Caesar’s desire ultimately triumphs, since the possibility of being proclaimed king is too magnificent to pass up. This overwhelming ambition constitutes the key personality trait this character is defined by, at his best and at his worst.
Just like many other sins and flaws, when examined in a work of fiction, this hubris remains largely captivating for the eyes of readers and viewers. Caesar’s arrogance is ridiculously extravagant, and yet not fully unjustified. As a conqueror and a brilliant politician, he has earned the right to think and speak of himself highly. Nevertheless, he is enthralled in tragedy from the very beginning. Even without having a full understanding of the real-life historical facts, Caesar is wrapped in the aura of a tragic character. The presence he commands, the almost supernatural power he holds over the people of Rome is antithetical to the ideals and the values of Brutus; the hero of this story. One might follow either the path of democracy and Republic, or the one of regality and breathing legends, and both roads cannot be walked at the same time.
Thus, Caesar combines the two narratives rarely present in a fictional character at the same time. It is not an unbiased speculation to suggest that some of the author’s views on Roman history have influenced his portrayal, given the English Golden Age’s fascination with the glorious European past. Caesar is, on one hand, a darkly charismatic and captivating character with an almost devilish conviction to him. He delivers a commanding presence, with everyone’s actions largely revolving around the figure of Caesar and what he represents. Yet at the same time, it is foreshadowed multiple times that the very same traits that make him appealing, perhaps despite one’s best judgment, will ultimately cause his downfall.
The latter attribute quickly evolves past the subtext and the implications, as Caesar begins to succumb to delusions, fueled by his own sense of self-importance. The emperor believes, that with the power he holds through the people’s love for him, the sheer strength of his public image will be enough to shield his mortal body from any harm. Caesar conflates the two and believes that they are one and the same beyond the line of impossibility. Of course, the charisma and the presence are powerless against the swarm of daggers.
Nevertheless, in the second half of the play, Caesar’s faith in his own immortality is shown to be not entirely wrong. By Act V, scene III, (Shakespeare, 90), Brutus is attributing his and Cassius’ misfortunes to Caesar’s authority extending from beyond the grave. The dead emperor’s aura appears to have a magical effect on the overall fate of events, while simultaneously encouraging Octavius and Antony and reinforcing their resolve. “The evil, that men do, lives after them” (Shakespeare, 55), contributing to the general sense of doom, typical for tragedies. When Octavius adopts the title of Caesar, it becomes evident that the legacy of an emperor lives on.
Such an ending is fit for a tragedy, as it undermines most of the efforts in creating a more democratic and egalitarian government, making most of the protagonists’ efforts fruitless. In conclusion, the human hunger for power triumphs over the better but weaker impulses. Caesar’s defining trait, his ambition, ends up being the strongest force out of all presented in the story, and outlives even the character himself.
Work Cited
Shakespeare, William. Julius Caesar. Edited by Barbara Mowat, Paul Werstine. Simon & Schuster, 2017.