In the end, O's failure is not one of composition or execution, but of conception. After all, Othello is, at its heart, about Iago's frustrated love for Othello (it's maybe worth noting that Iago was the model for Milton's Satan), and Iago's destruction of Othello is also an act of self-negation, comprehensible only because we recognize Iago in the darkest corners of ourselves. By imputing base motives to the villain (turns out he just wanted to be the star basketball player himself), O makes the whole exercise ridiculous. It renders this most intimate tragedy senseless--another sad example of our capacity for monstrousness. Which, come to think of it, might lead us back to Kip Kinkel.
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