[She obeys.]

A feminist reading of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew

It is common practice in the world of horseback riding to “break,” as it is called, an unwieldy or disobedient steed in the interest of forcing it into the servitude of its rider. The psychological domination of human master over animal servant is paramount to the horse’s training process, and such a practice should seem familiar to those who have read Shakespeare’s comedy The Taming of the Shrew. The shrew, Kate, is transformed by Petruchio, her unwanted suitor, over the course of the play from an independent and, to him, frustratingly indignant maiden into an accommodating and doting slave-bride. From a feminist perspective, this transformation represents Shakespeare’s—or at the very least his characters’—endorsement of “taming” independent or seemingly annoying women into modest and servant-like wives, a transformation which strips the woman of her humanity in a process much like the “breaking” of bucking stallions.

From the outset, marrying Kate is treated as laughably undesirable by the cast of male characters. Hortensio says he’d prefer women “of gentler, milder mold” (I.1.60), while Tranio is more straightforward with his sentiments, offering that “That wench is stark mad” (I.1.69). More revealingly, Gremio asks Hortensio if “though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool as to be married to hell?” (I.1.122–124). While Kate sure offers her share of annoyances, here she is represented as merely an overloud obstacle to reach the true object of their affections, Bianca—who, it should be noted, is also desirable in part due to her father’s fortune. Kate becomes a challenge for new suitor Petruchio, who similarly cares little about the temperament of his potential wife but instead is primarily concerned with the money entailed in marrying her (I.1.64–76). He believes that he’ll be able to “tame” her, so to speak, and mold her into a tolerable enough wife for himself, a process he is willing to undertake for the sake of the fortune she promises.

Petruchio is seemingly uninterested in Kate for herself, in her individual personality characteristics, and values her merely as a financial prize through her father’s wealth, and as a trophy to serve testament to the forthcoming “taming” he intends to achieve. In fact, his aim is to snuff out entirely the “intolerable” qualities that separate her from the rest of Padua’s women (I.2.88). Similarly, Bianca’s many suitors seem only smitten by her beauty and by the financial prospects attached to marrying her. Both women are thusly objectified, one for her sexual attractiveness and the elder as something of an animal to be conquered and to claim dominion over. Both of these forms of objectification were commonplace and subconscious in a time period when women were expected to be secondary to their husbands, expected to remain quiet and act something of a servant for their man, fulfilling his needs primarily in the kitchen and in the bedroom. “Shrews” who rejected this backwards dichotomy were regarded with contempt, called “curst,” which Grumio calls a “title for a maid of all titles the worst” (I.2.127–128).

So how does Petruchio intend to reverse this “curst” state in Kate? How could he possibly “tame” this shrew, break this horse who is so “renowned in Padua for her scolding tongue” (I.2.99)? It is eventually revealed that he intends to break her spirit and her resolve through literal starvation, denying her sustenance and explaining, “This is a way to kill a wife with kindness, / And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humor. / He that knows better how to tame a shrew, / Now let him speak: ‘tis charity to show” (IV.1.198–201). As if he couldn’t have made it clearer himself, it should be noted that Petruchio is abusing Kate physically and psychologically in hopes of forcing her submission to him, a mission in which he is eventually successful. An unwanted and undesired suitor uses trickery to force Kate into an engagement and eventual marriage she never herself endorsed, and then proceeds to abuse his bride to the point of complete submission and masculine domination. Sounds a little something like a drawn-out and fully public rape. This is a play written by a man, performed entirely by men, detailing the exaggerated and supposedly-comedic rape of an independent woman. Thankfully this sort of thing, released today, would be recognized more for its chauvinism than for its literary merit.

Petruchio’s conquest of Kate, which included his repeated threats of physical assault—highlighted with Grumio’s proud claim that he could “disfigure her” such that “she shall have no more eyes” (I.2.112–113)—and his eventual fulfillment of said threats in his psychological and physical abuse after their marriage prove that Shrew is a play endorsing, or at least making light of, the misogynistic treatment of women rampant in Shakespeare’s time period. The title itself, referencing the “taming” of Kate’s “shrew,” as well as its classification to this day as “comedy” rather than “disturbing period piece,” are testament to this piece’s profound sexist overtones and Shakespeare’s own prejudices regarding the “fairer,” or as they’d think, “lesser,” sex. Its entirety could be summed up in one stage direction appearing in act IV, a stage direction which was probably something of an afterthought to both the author and most readers over the centuries, which I contend embodies the quintessential spirit of the play and of the age: “[She obeys.]” (V.2.128-129).