Smart Enough to Save Men, Not Free Enough to Save Herself
Many readers first perceive Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice as progressive because the character Portia is clever, funny, convincing, and perhaps the story's true problem-solver. Although Portia defies the image of the submissive Renaissance woman, a feminist interpretation influenced by Tyson's critical framework shows that her moments of control only occur when she works within patriarchal constraints. In other words, she gains power when she briefly adopts masculinity. According to Tyson, feminist critique examines how texts support or contradict the notion that femininity should be subservient and masculinity should have authority. The play ultimately places Portia within a patriarchal structure, demonstrating that a woman's intelligence is only accepted when it serves male objectives rather than her own, despite the fact that she demonstrates that women are perfectly capable of agency and leadership.
One of the most important choices a woman can make in this period is marriage, which gives Portia control over her life from the start. Even when she expresses her displeasure publicly, she is still required to follow her father's decision. "I may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father," she states simply, expressing her lack of agency (1.2.22–23). The play normalizes a man's authority over her future, even in death. As long as the patriarchal system is in place, Portia's intelligence and personal preferences are meaningless. Under Tyson's perspective, the casket, which many find humorous, becomes a troubling reminder of how patriarchy favors male power over female autonomy.
The courtroom scene, Portia's most well-known instance of "power," is only possible when she poses as a man. She adopts a male persona, gains the court's respect, and all of a sudden emerges as the most powerful voice in the room. To put it another way, the play implies that a woman cannot be taken seriously until she transforms into a male. The audience reacts with respect when she breaks Shylock's argument with the pivotal statement, "Tarry a little; there is something else" (4.1.320), but only because they think she is a man. Her actions save Antonio, a wealthy man who showed little regard for her marriage, and her brilliance only matters when it is masked as masculine.
By restoring male authority and protecting the same social order that limits her, Portia’s big “victory” in the courtroom actually ends up supporting patriarchy instead of challenging it. Her intelligence is only celebrated because it helps the men around her, not because it proves women deserve power. Tyson explains that feminist criticism looks at how literature reinforces “the economic, political, social, and psychological oppression of women” (Tyson 79), and that’s exactly what’s happening here. Portia looks powerful, but only because she’s doing work that benefits the men in control. Once her actions stop serving their interests, her power disappears immediately.
The play quickly deprives Portia of her authority during the courtroom dispute and serves as a reminder to viewers that her intelligence does not alter her social position. Male domination is reinforced by the ring, which is frequently presented as a lighthearted jest. Bassanio still demands obedience and dedication from Portia since he owes her his own success. Even if Bassanio is at fault, Portia is expected to handle the emotional fallout when she reveals the broken pledge. "I will not deny him anything" are her last words to her husband, demonstrating how deeply embedded patriarchy is in her future (5.1.289). The statement affirms that her life will continue to center around male acceptance and compliance, regardless of whether it is said honestly or cynically. Shakespeare's reinforcement of patriarchal gender norms is highlighted by the fact that the play concludes with her symbolic submission rather than her victory.
When we take into account that Portia might be Shakespeare's most capable and competent character to date, this becomes even more startling. She makes the most sensible choices, resolves the main conflict, provides funding for almost all of the plot's solutions, and rescues the male lead when no one else can. However, none of that gives her true autonomy. Her successes never help her; instead, they help Antonio, Bassanio, and the system that already keeps her out. Rather than empowering her, her achievements ultimately reinforce the patriarchal structure around her, exactly what Tyson argues happens when women internalize patriarchal expectations and end up maintaining the very system that limits them. She fights Antonio's legal battle despite the fact that it diminishes her standing in her marriage, she upholds her father's will despite its limitations, and she reinstates the very system that confines her freedom.
In conclusion, Tyson's feminist critical perspective portrays The Merchant of Venice as a tale of how patriarchy neutralizes female intelligence rather than one of female triumph. Portia is not evidence that women's agency was appreciated in Shakespeare's day. She is evidence that in order to survive, even the most intelligent and powerful women must submit to male authority. Her intelligence is only accepted when it benefits men; it does not free her. One thing is evident from the play: patriarchy is so pervasive in the world of The Merchant of Venice that even a woman who does everything correctly nevertheless finds herself helpless.
