On Peter Shaffer's Equus ...
For Modern Drama - Victor Cahn - 4/3/12 - Eric Shapiro ...
The God of Health and the Destruction of the Individual Spirit in Peter Shaffer's Equus ...
The bulk of Peter Shaffer’s Equus deals with the relationship between distinguished psychologist Martin Dysart and troubled 17-year-old boy Alan Strang. Superficially, the two characters could not be more different, and at the onset of the play we expect the narrative to focus on the attempts of the former to “cure” the latter.
However, it soon becomes apparent that Equus is far morethan just that. As the play goes on, Shaffer subverts contemporary notions of normality, with Dysart growing to suspect that in spite of the so-called “madness” that compelled Alan to gouge out the eyes of several horses at the stable where he worked, the boy possesses something that most modern people lack: true individuality. Restricted from practicing Christianity, Alan unknowingly embarks on a spiritual quest that leads him to devise his very own religion based around the horse god, Equus.
Perhaps the fullest, yet most concise, reflection of this central theme comes in scene 19, beginning with “the normal is the good smile in a child’s eyes” and concluding with “sacrifices to the normal can take months” (Shaffer 56). Essentially, Dysart feels guilty for taking away the part of Alan that makes him a totally distinct individual. When Dysart speaks of “gods,” he is being partially metaphorical, but at the same time, there is an undeniably spiritual dimension to his concerns. Dysart’s sentiments regarding normality as a destroyer of individuality bookend Shaffer’s play, tying together its disparate elements into a coherent statement about the unsolvable dilemma of life in the modern world.
The God of Health is not, in fact, a deity at all. If anything, it is a false god, in the sense that it encourages people to abandon the higher forces (whether metaphorical or real) that make life worthwhile in the name of a homogeneous normalcy. In secular terms, this “god” is an embodiment of the societal pressures that force the human race into a kind of sterile homogeneity, where pragmatism and rationality supplant passion and intuition. Frank Strang looks down his nose at religion and actively discourages his son Alan from pursuing his interest in the Christian faith. More than any other character in the play, he has completely subjugated himself to the aforementioned modern day gods, declaring: “I am an atheist, and I don’t mind admitting it.” He is completely unaware that he is missing out on a fundamental component of human experience, namely the “rarer and more wonderful gods” that Dysart mentions in scene 19 (Shaffer 56).
Ironically, however, Frank unwittingly facilitates Alan’s individualistic discovery of Equus by cutting him off from two key normalizing sources in contemporary society. First, he prohibits his son from watching television, which he describes as a device that “seems to be offering something, but actually it’s taking something away” (Shaffer 18). When examined in the context of the entire play, this “something” is the societal pressures that sap one of one’s individuality and subliminally enforce normalcy, the dogma of the God of Health. Second, Frank cuts Alan off from society’s accepted versions of spirituality. Dora Strang describes how, following a rant about the evils of religion, Frank tore a picture of Jesus Christ off of Alan’s wall, symbolically severing his son’s connection to Christianity (Shaffer 36). In doing these things, Frank Strang unintentionally places his son in a cultural vacuum where he is free to devise his own religion and his own god as a testament to his individualism.
In contrast to Frank, Dysart experiences a sense of profound emptiness that the gods of health and normality cannot fill. In the midst of a passionless marriage and a career that does not fully satisfy his spiritual needs, the psychologist pines for something more meaningful. Venting to Hester, he paints a telling picture of himself: “The finicky, critical husband looking through his art books on mythical Greece. What worship has he ever known? Real worship! Without worship you shrink, it’s as brutal as that… I shrank my own life… I tell everyone… I’m the pagan. Some pagan!” (Shaffer 73).
Dysart’s words are laced with self-loathing, because he cannot bring himself to accept his place in the modern world. Furthermore, he feels that his reflexive attempts to reconnect with the past are not only ineffective, but hypocritical in light of his supposed sophistication. Yet, he cannot help himself. Desperate for a taste of the divine in a world defined by secular values, Dysart turns to the last remnants of a bygone civilization for some kind of deeper meaning. Alas, try as he might, the psychologist is unable to find adequate fulfillment in the fading echoes of a time that he perceives as more conducive to the spiritual element missing from his own life. For this reason, he both admires and envies Alan’s devotion to a god of his own creation, Equus.
Because “normality” and “health” cause Dysart so much unhappiness, he is reluctant to impose such stifling conventions on a young boy who is lucky enough to have escaped them. On the other hand, Alan’s abnormal beliefs render him unable to function in society. Dysart’s words of admiration for Equus do not go so far as to suggest that the psychologist considers normality and health to be entirely negative concepts. On the contrary, he gives himself (and, by extension, his profession) limited credit, claiming: “I have honestly assisted children in this room. I have talked away terrors and relieved many agonies” (Shaffer 56). Thus, Dysart implies that the personal spirituality of Alan and individuals like him is not applicable in the modern world. Alan’s ritual blinding of the horses and the fact that it is labeled a crime is an example of what happens when one becomes too detached from the accepted contemporary reality--the consequences can be disastrous.
The dilemma for Dysart, then, lies in helping his patient adapt sufficiently to society without destroying his individuality. In scene 19, Dysart suggests that while he has helped his patients back to the path of health, he has in the process done them a certain kind of harm: “also–beyond question–I have cut from them parts of individuality repugnant to this god, in both his aspects” (Shaffer 56). In other words, it is not possible to cure someone of what society has deemed mental “illness” without also excising part of what makes them who they are.
Dysart’s sentiments on normalcy and individuality come up again at the conclusion of Equus: “Do you think feelings like his can be simply re-attached like band-aids? Stuck on to other objects we select… my achievement, however, is more likely to make a ghost.” By the standards of the God of Health, Dysart’s “curing” of Alan is a positive development in that it allows him to re-enter society. However, Dysart is all too aware that he has also just stripped away an essential part of what made Alan the person he was. Necessary as this might have been, Alan will never again recover the unique essence that was a byproduct of his spiritual journey. Thus, we experience along with Dysart a sense of profound loss inflicted on the individual spirit by society’s unyielding pressure to conform.