The Good Daughter

I’ve always been skeptical of Cordelia, the good daughter.

Is her “nothing” really the sign of unbounded love?

Claiming to “Love and be silent,” her terse reply to Lear’s preposterous question, cannot but madden him.

Has she really lived her whole life in the castle without realizing, as Regan does, that “he hath but slenderly known himself.”

Is Cordelia’s reply that of a good daughter or one who has decided to get her own back?

Oh, but, you say, Lear grows from his mistakes.

But at what cost? All the main characters are dead by play’s end and Kent is shortly to follow them.

And the wise fool pines away, exiting the play with little fanfare.

Fast-forward to this century and Cordelia explaining why Lear must go into a retirement home. Masking anger with love, she dutifully tells him that she will not let him return home because he is too weak to live alone.

When he says “I hope a child of yours never treats you like this,” she hides behind a rationale of love as she replies that “she hopes her children will love her enough to safeguard her.” She has successfully implied love for the old man without having to actually say it.

Secretly she hugs herself, glorying in having the upper hand.

Is she really so different from her sisters?

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