If you’d ever like to feel better about the troubled relationship you have with your family, I have a suggestion for you: Watch the 1968 version of “The Lion in Winter.” The film is set in England in 1183 A.D., and stars Peter O’Toole as King Henry II and Katharine Hepburn as his estranged wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine. The two have three grown sons: Richard (Anthony Hopkins), Geoffrey and John. The movie follows the diabolical plotting and scheming of the family to force the aging King Henry to choose one of his sons as an heir.
The movie is one of my favorites for several reasons. The lines are witty, and Hepburn and O’Toole together are something out of Shakespeare. I don’t love this movie, though, just because of the talented acting. The story and dialogue of “The Lion in Winter,” like the best art and literature, speak to what it means to be human. It makes a few observations in particular about human nature that profoundly resonate with me. To remind myself of these, I watched the movie last night, when I should have been writing this column.
I blame this on my roommate J. Every week I ask my friends what I should write about, and every week J is less than helpful. This week, though, she actually suggested a topic: She said I should write about “unions,” to which I replied, “No.” Then J looked frustrated but not with me. She seemed aggravated by life in general and told me to “write about whether people are innately good or bad.” When I asked what had spurred this idea, J explained: The company for which her father works is considering unionizing, and she and her dad had been discussing the pros and cons of unions.
Basically, J wished that corporations could be trusted not to exploit their workers — on the one hand, thus negating the need for unions, and on the other hand, that workers could be trusted not to slack off at their jobs, even though they know they’ll be paid the same amount as the best workers for their lower quality work. Why, she wondered, couldn’t people be trusted? Are people inherently bad or good?
At one point in “The Lion in Winter,” the three sons are gathered in their mother’s room, discussing who will inherit the throne, when Richard taunts John with his knife. John cries, “He’s got a knife,” and runs to the corner, at which point Hepburn delivers one of my favorite monologues.
She declares, “Of course he has a knife, he always has a knife, we all have knives! It’s 1183 and we’re barbarians! How clear we make it. Oh, my piglets, we are the origins of war: not history’s forces, nor the times, nor justice, nor the lack of it, nor causes, nor religions, nor ideas, nor kinds of government, nor any other thing. We are the killers. We breed wars. We carry it like syphilis inside. Dead bodies rot in field and stream because the living ones are rotten …”
What do you think? I don’t suggest you base your understanding of human nature on fictional episodes, but I mention the monologue, because fiction can give us a different lens through which to see the truth. Are people innately good or bad? Are wars caused by religion, politics and lack of resources? Or are they caused, simply, by you and I?
The monologue continues, as Eleanor wonders, “For the love of God, can’t we love one another just a little — that’s how peace begins. We have so much to love each other for. We have such possibilities, my children. We could change the world.”
While I think this assessment of mankind’s potential is accurate, the fact that Eleanor says it is ironic: She is possibly the most selfish creature in the movie. We have great possibilities, yes: We could love one another and have peace. But does she? And will we?
I took a modern history class last term on the wars and violence of the 20th century. The professor began by telling us his “agenda” for the course: He wanted to show, he said, that civilized society is hard work, fragile, not our default mode. Knowing how often we see the failures of man, ought we not celebrate his triumphs all the more? For me, believing that man is innately selfish doesn’t mean I reject his achievements or have no hope for his future. It does mean, though, that I receive that hope from something outside of man.
How do you view humanity? Do you think human beings are innately good or innately bad? Or do you think, like a friend of mine, that they are neither, and simply choose how to act based on their circumstances? What we think about human nature, whether we realize it or not, influences how we view the world and how we relate with others, two things that I, for one, need to take much more seriously.
—Leigh Dickey is a senior in global studies and Latin. She can be reached at [email protected].
