Systems, Shakespeare, and Intertextuality: Premise 15
Dynamic systems exist "on the edge of chaos," in a state "far from equilibrium," between rigidity and randomness. Physicist Paul Davies writes
The cosmos is poised, exquisitely, between the twin extremes of simplicity and complexity. Too much randomness and chaos would lead to a universe of unstructured anarchy; too much lawlike simplicity would produce regimented uniformity and regularity in which little of interest would occur. The universe is neither a random gas nor a crystal, but a menagerie of coherent, organized, and interacting systems forming a hierarchy of structure. Nature is thus a potent mix of two opposing tendencies, in which there is pervasive spontaneity and novelty, providing openness in the way the universe evolves but enough restraint to impose order on the products. The laws of nature thus bestow on the universe a powerful inherent creativity ("Introduction: Toward an Emergentist Worldview," in Niels Henrik Gregersen, ed., From Complexity to Life," Oxford: Oxford U. P., 2003, 10).
Successful artworks also exist between rigidity and randomness (still another way in which they "hold a mirror up to nature"). John Barrow notes, in The Artful Universe Expanded (Oxford: Oxford U. P., 2005), that successful music of all kinds exhibits a mathematically calculable balance between predictability and unpredictability (271ff). And Charles H. Bennett notes
Just as the intuitively complex human body is intermediate in entropy between a crystal and a gas, so an intuitively complex genome or literary text is intermediate in algorithmic entropy between a random sequence and a perfectly ordered one ("How to Define Complexity in Physics, and Why," in Gregersen, 37).
In his book A Blessed Rage for Order (Ann Arbor: U. of Michigan Press, 1991) Alexander J. Argyros takes the comparison between system and story even further:
Using the insights offered by chaos theory, it is tempting to speculate that traditional narratives are, in fact, far-from-temporal-equilibrium dynamical systems capable of generating global order simultaneously with local randomness. . . . The fractal folds of narrative, its self-similar and frequently tangled layers of plot, subplot, monologue, and dialogue, allow a culture to store tremendous amounts of information in a stable form while simultaneously freeing that information to vary according to historical influences (319).
What Harold Bloom calls Shakespeare’s "invention of the personality" can be thought of as his capture of the right balance between simplicity and complexity in his characters. For example, John Briggs and F. David Peat write, "Where lesser Elizabethan playwrights used soliloquy to further plot and supply information, Shakespeare made it the arena of personal psychology in a way that would have been more than inconceivable a few centuries earlier—it would have been incomprehensible" (Seven Life Lessons of Chaos, New York: HarperCollins, 1999, 149).
Narratives, including at least some of Shakespeare's plays, often include a "trickster," living on a boundary and opening new, creative possibilities—sometimes by presenting obstacles to be overcome. Some of Shakespeare’s plays, including King Lear and The Tempest, include storms (complex dynamical systems) as enablers of new possibilities. And many of Shakespeare’s plays can be seen as existing in the tension of conflicting values, such as those accompanying the collapse of the medieval worldview, with its Great Chain of Being.
Could Shakespeare’s intertextual importance be partly due do the precise degree of complexity in his works, the precise way in which his works "hold a mirror up to nature"?







