Thomas More: Preserving Self in Society in a Man for All Seasons

Some might say he's a hypocrite. Others may adopt a Christian perspective to his moral struggle. Robert Bolt, however, would describe him as a man who exemplified an "adamantine sense of his own self" (Bolt xii). A Man for All Seasons, although non-theological in its scope, nevertheless presents a dramatic hero of no small interest to the contemporary Christian, but whose significance does not end there. Sir Thomas More, a well-known martyr and inspiration to those "moral" among us, is a man of inexorable integrity, whose steadfast adherence to his religious and ethical beliefs led to his tragic demise, and to the expanding popularity of his character. More's struggle presents a morally blatant -- and historical -- example of man's struggle to assert his spiritual self in a secular society.

Perhaps a brief history of More's struggle is needed. Sixteenth century England: Henry VIII's brother, Arthur, dies. Arthur was to be king and had already married Catherine of Aragon. A husband must be provided, so at the prodding of the Spanish and English monarchies, the Pope threw out the doctrine that stated a man may not marry his brother's wife and Henry and Catherine wed. They rule happily -- for a while -- until Henry falls in love with Anne Boleyn, finds out Catherine cannot bear him any sons, and desires to divorce her. The Catholic Church does not support his requests, and Henry attempts to persuade them otherwise, claiming the marriage should be annulled based on its original religious illegality. The Church and More do not buy this claim, considering Henry caused the problem in the first place. More was Henry's Lord Chancellor and resigned the position when Henry split with the Church in 1531. In 1534, Parliament passed a bill requiring all subjects to take an oath (Oath of Supremacy) acknowledging the supremacy of England's king over all foreign sovereigns -- including the Pope. More refused, was imprisoned, and then executed in 1535. The play presents his dilemma to stay true to his friends, country, and God.

In his preface, Bolt addresses the apparent contradiction between More's realism and his continuing resort to legal and moral loopholes. He poses questions of why, if More believes so strongly that the divorce shouldn't take place, does he hope to find a "way out" in the Oath of Supremacy? Likewise, why does he "valiantly" keep quiet instead of bravely speaking out against the King's hypocrisy? Bolt's answer (as More explains it to his son-in-law William Roper) is, "God's my god...But I find him rather too...subtle...I don't know where he is nor what he wants" (67). More respects God's law as the ultimate, but he doesn't attempt to understand or enforce it:

...I'm not God. The currents and eddies of right and wrong, which you find such plain sailing, I can't navigate. I'm no voyager. But in the thickets of the law, oh, there I am a forester...This countries planted thick with laws from coast to coast -- man's laws, not God's -- and if you cut them down -- and you're just the man to do it -- d'you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? (66).

Here, More asserts his support of secular laws as the best available defense against what Bolt calls "that larger context occupied by God and Devil nakedly at war." Thus, if man's law occasionally contradicts God's, or lets some evildoers off the hook, its benefits far outweigh its faults. However, if that is the case, then where does this Oath of Supremacy fall on the scale of "acceptable secular law?"

In this sense, More is thoroughly pragmatic, but not, like Thomas Cromwell and Richard Rich, at the expense of his beliefs. It is apparent More wished to be uninvolved with the divorce, which unwittingly dominated his thoughts and prayers. Whenever