You do not currently have permission to view the full text for this document. Please sign in to an account with an active subscription or contact support.
One critic (A. C. Bradley, 1952) in his Shakespearean Tragedy, observed that while King Lear was not Shakespeare's best play, it was surely his greatest achievement. This paradoxical observation reflects the insinuating power of the play. Indeed, few works of art, and possibly no other of Shakespeare's many works, evoke the strong feelings that King Lear does. One may ponder why this particular play is so moving.
Perhaps it is because of Lear's royal blood. Children—and all of us remain children in various respects throughout all of our lives—identify intimately with royalty, kings and queens, princesses and princes (the latter pair, particularly, because they have not yet been crowned with authority and responsibility). At first secretly, we consider ourselves special. If we are fortunate, we learn that we are. And learning that we are permits us eventually to see that others, actually all others, possess their own varieties of specialness.
Adults invariably are impressed with the fact that, while royal personages live quite different external lives, their inner lives turn