By Gio Arteaga
So, picture this: you’re sitting in English II honors, minding your own business, trying to wrap your head around Shakespeare’s confusing yet interesting plots, when suddenly, your teacher (Mr. Hadley) launches into a passionate tirade about Othello and Iago being more than just mortal enemies. Yep, you read that right – apparently, they’re secretly in love. And let me tell you, folks, it’s a wild ride.
Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m all for exploring alternative interpretations of Elizabethan literature or whatever her name is, but when Mr. Hadley starts getting loud and making connections to Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, I can’t help but feel fear creeping up my spine. What kind of literary rabbit hole have we fallen into here? I hear screams from across the room: “GOATS AND MONKEYS!” It all started decently… we were discussing Othello’s tragic flaw (spoiler alert: it’s jealousy) when Mr. Hadley suddenly slams his fist into his little podium in the front of the class and said: “But What if it’s not just jealousy, but repressed desire? What if Othello’s obsession with Desdemona is just a cover for his true feelings for Iago?” The class went silent.
As if that wasn’t enough to send us into a frenzy, Mr. Hadley then dissect every interaction between Othello and Iago with the precision of a surgeon performing open-heart surgery. “Just look at how they talk to each other,” he exclaims, waving his arms wildly. “It’s practically dripping with sexual tension! And don’t even get me started on the handkerchief.” I glance nervously around the room, half expecting someone to burst into tears or faint so we can run, but alas, no one did. But no, my classmates are just as bewildered (and slightly terrified) as I was and still am. Who knew Shakespeare could be so scandalous, and may I dare to say… gay?
But Mr. Hadley isn’t content with stopping there. Oh no, he’s determined to draw parallels between Othello and Iago’s forbidden love affair and the dystopian society of Brave New World. “They’re both cautionary tales about the dangers of societal norms and repression,” he declares as if this somehow makes his theory less outrageous.
As the bell finally rings, which is the end of class, I gather my books and make a beeline for the door, silently vowing never to look at Othello the same way again. Because once you’ve listened to a single one of his lectures, the idea of a torrid affair between a Moorish general and his conniving ensign, there’s really no going back. So here I am, haunted by the specter of Mr. Hadley’s interpretation of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedy. And as I sit in my next English class, dreading the inevitable discussion of Romeo and Juliet I can’t help but wonder: what other literary bombshells await me in the hallowed halls of high school literature? Only time will tell.