The Character of the Gentleman in Thirst

The characterization in Thirst is quite interesting since all the three characters do not have a name. They are separated only by their behavioral differences and attitudes distinct from each other. The three characters are deliberately made nameless for they represent every man. The Gentleman and the Dancer represent the upper class white world, while the Sailor, a mulatto, represents the lower class, and obviously nonwhite, world. The Gentleman is a namesake since he remains a gentleman all through the play. A constant companion of the Dancer, the Gentleman speaks out more the agony of inhuman suffering through his hysteric speech and action. The Gentleman retorts seeing the Dancer frightened by the Sailor‘s words that his song will keep the sharks off: “At least tell her the truth about the sharks. That is all a children’s tale about them eating people. . . . You know they never eat anyone.” Here. the Gentleman attempts, in the face of accepted knowledge, to “undo” the truth by lying about it, by disclaiming it, by dis-empowering it rhetorically.

    The Gentleman wears a white shin with black slacks, a black tie, has black hair, and perhaps in a most telling detail, is marked by a line of black moustache dye running down the side of his face. Evidently he belongs to the upper class and is a gallant. The Gentleman states as much early in the play. claiming the Sailor as a “companion in misfortune” and states how the three are “all in the same pitiful plight.” Clearly, the gentleman is acting as a mouthpiece for O’Neill’s own fatalistic views that people cling to life sustained only by a pipe dream that some sort of salvation is possible and that only a knowledge of a shared bond makes life bearable.

    Like the Dancer the Gentleman too is a rebellious character. Failing to stomach the silence he “sulkily” claims, at the request of the Dancer to avoid discussing the blood-red color of the sea. “Very well. I will not speak.” But he is unable to keep his vow. Before either of the other characters has the opportunity to act, he cries, “God! God! How my eyes ache! How my throat burns!” He is, of the three, the most garrulous and in fact serves to bind the three widely disparate characters together. He frequently intercedes on the Dancer‘s behalf, acting as a sort of negotiator among them, at least until the Dancer ultimately succumbs to insanity and is finally able to address the Sailor without fear.

    However like the Dancer the Gentleman is a dreamer who waits for rescue and safe return. He is connected to his deity, calling out God’s name twelve times while he deteriorates beneath what O‘Neill calls in his opening and closing stage directions, “a great angry eye of God.” He recalls how an irony of fate has been played on him: ‘I vaguely remember rushing to my stateroom and picking up my wallet. It must have been that menu that I took instead.’ Like the Dancer he too shows signs of madness in the play. In his famous monologue he expresses his agony and endless frustration.

    The Gentleman is also the character who most frequently relies on the label that sets the Sailor off rhetorically from the others, referring to him as “a poor Negro sailor,” “this nigger,” “pig,” and finally, “the black dog.” The epithets grows more dehumanizing and desperate as the action progresses, in stark contrast to Brutus Jones’ rhetorical shift away from rhetorical negativity as his own tragedy deepens. His racist bias long bottled up gets ejaculated with misery and extreme suffering. He represents the whiteness of the long European civilization who meets a similar carnivalesque as the dancer. But he is not without hearts. Towards the end of the play when the sailor desperately tries to feed on the Dancer’s body he precludes such forced cannibalistic act. The ejaculation of his racist prejudice is but temporary and forced, earlier in the play he saying, ‘He is only a poor Negro sailor — our companion in misfortune. God knows we are all in the same pitful plight. We should not grow suspicious of one another.’

    Thus the character of the Gentleman in the play is multifaceted. He is at once the representative of the whiteness of the European civilization and at the time a great sympathizer and friend. He is a puppet in the hand of destiny and an indifferent God who angry eye blazes everything out.