#I suppose there's an argument to be made that Flint's relationship with Silver is akin to his relationship with Admiral Hennessy

[bring-it-all-down]

I’d like to talk a little bit about why I think Black Sails, while definitely tragic, is NOT a tragedy. Rather, I think that Black Sails ultimately is more hopeful than tragic.

The literary conception of tragedy is divided into two types, Greek and Shakespearean. I’m in no way an expert on tragedy, but broadly speaking, in Greek tragedy, the plot must have unity (it must have a clear beginning, middle, and end) in order for the audience to reach some sort of emotional catharsis. Most importantly, though, the plot must be driven by a character’s pointless struggle to avoid their fate brought on by their hubris (an attempt to become like a god), which has been predetermined (largely from prophesies) and from which they cannot escape. For instance, everything Oedipus attempts to do to escape his fate of killing his father and marrying his mother only draws him closer to that fate. 

Shakespearean tragedy, on the other hand, has a less clear beginning and plot, including many subplots that take place over a much longer period of time: it lacks the Greek elements of unity of plot, time, and place. Furthermore, the struggle is driven not by divine prophecy but by a character’s struggle between good and evil; the character is doomed not by an external power but by an internal failing. Thus, while the tragic hero in Greek plays gains full knowledge of the situation by the end, the Shakespearean tragic hero rarely gains self-knowledge. In essence, Greek tragedy is more plot-focused and Shakespearean tragedy is more character-focused.

Although Black Sails has a predetermined end thanks to both Treasure Island and the historical context of piracy, if it was to be a tragedy, it would be a Shakespearean tragedy, not a Greek tragedy. The plot is complex, focusing on a number of characters, and is driven largely by the characters’ internal struggles. However, the show differs in several key ways that ultimately prevent it from being a full tragedy.

Most importantly, Black Sails lacks a real tragic hero, who in Shakespearean tragedy is somebody well-regarded––often a member of the nobility––who is fundamentally a good person, but whose fatal flaw leads to his downfall and the downfall of society at large. As Tom McAlindon puts it in his article, “What is Shakespearean Tragedy?”:

The hero’s fall involves a self-betrayal or loss of identity which constitutes the breakdown in the balance of a richly-endowed nature, one in which feeling is so powerful that it is never far from the point of destructive excess...loosely speaking, then, anger and ambition (including pride, a sense of honor, and the desire for glory), and, on the other hand, love and grief, are the passions whose overflow brings disaster; and it should be stressed that the first pair are to be seen in as positive a light as the second (9-10).

This tragic hero frequently wants to do good, but is blind to the truth of reality, and his initial errors in judgment due to this blindness compound over time, leading to his destruction. Throughout this decline, the ‘hero’ status is maintained through a constant reminder of the environment in which the tragic hero exists; Othello’s paranoia, for instance, is in part a product of the racism in Venetian society. Furthermore, the tragic hero is always juxtaposed by a manipulative figure who knowingly attempts to rouse the hero’s passions for his own gain.

In Black Sails, the person who most closely matches this description is Flint, a high-ranking pirate who commands the respect of his inferiors. Flint certainly is driven by some continuously shifting combination of ambition, love, and grief. His entire project is one dedicated to honoring Thomas’s memory, but it’s also very true that Flint enjoys being in power. He relishes the opportunity to take back command of the Walrus from Dufresne, and as much as he sees his crew as men rather than animals, he absolutely believes himself superior to them. His penchant for murdering those who stand in his way is constantly justified to us through reminders that civilization is even more violent and less discriminating in its use of violence. Furthermore, he is manipulated at times by Silver (though the extent of each other’s knowledge of this is questionable).

This brings us to the question of Flint’s fatal flaw. Unlike with Shakespearean tragic heroes (Romeo’s impulsiveness, Hamlet’s indecision, Macbeth’s ambition), it’s hard to pinpoint a singular flaw for Flint. To be sure, the guy has many flaws: his arrogance, his reticence to trust people, his anger, etc. But it’s difficult to pick out a singular flaw that leads to his demise. In fact, it’s perhaps his abandonment of these flaws that results in his death (“Flint” died, regardless of how you interpret the ending). He trusts Silver, he humbles himself enough to believe himself unworthy of overseeing a post-revolutionary world alongside Madi and Silver, and it’s his love in place of anger that makes it impossible for him to kill Silver. So, ultimately, his fatal flaw is trusting Silver too much, but this is not a flaw that is inherent to him, that he had even from their first meeting. 

A second way in which Black Sails differs from Shakespearean tragedy also concerns the ending. In Shakespearean tragedies, the reciprocal relationship between the disordered tragic hero and the disordered society in which he exists comes to and end with the hero’s demise, and a new orderly society springs up in its place. In Macbeth, Malcolm becomes king, ushering in an era of benevolence; in Othello, Iago receives a fitting punishment, thereby restoring some sense of justice; etc. In essence, the tragic hero’s death results in the end of conflict and the beginning of peace.

In one sense, Black Sails follows this plot. The end of Flint brings about the end of war and the beginning of peace in Nassau under Max’s rule. However, we know that this peace is deeply unsatisfactory because we have come to learn that compromising with civilization is actually impossible. We learn that while the Maroons have a peace treaty, it does not extend to any other freed Black person, and it includes the Maroons re-enslaving people who come to them for freedom. We know through historical context that Jack and Anne only have a few more years of freedom before they’re captured and Jack is hanged. We know that Silver spends the rest of his life haunted by what he did to Flint. And so Flint’s death brings about no actual peace.

The key element that prevents Black Sails from being a Shakespearean tragedy, despite it fitting most of the typical components of a Shakespearean tragedy, is the idea that the central conflict––freedom vs. civilization––extends beyond the show. And so we are aware that no character’s actions will actually affect the conflict in a monumental way. Even though there is the idea that it could have ended differently, we know from the beginning, with our historical knowledge, that the revolution is doomed. The central conflict of the show is an ongoing conflict; there is no possibility of reconciliation as with the Montagues and the Capulets. While all Shakespearean tragedies begin in medias res, they have a definite conclusion, but Black Sails does not.

So, Black Sails is not a Shakespearean tragedy, but on its surface, it looks like it’s incredibly tragic. However, I think that, for all of the reasons I just talked about, Black Sails is actually a show about hope. Flint’s arc demonstrates to us that people can change, that hope can be found in a mutual recognition of suffering and a desire to end that suffering not just for yourself but for others. We learn from Max that nothing is worth doing unless it begins and ends with love. We find a deep sense of familiarity in these characters through the recognition that their battles are our battles, that their flaws are our flaws, but their failure does not have to be our failure. 

Unlike with Macbeth or Othello or Romeo and Juliet, the Black Sails story is still being written and so long as that is the case, there is room for hope.