The Night of the Iguana

When Shannon arrives at the hotel, afflicted with a high fever and abandoning a limping bus, he is not only running toward the hotel; he is running away from a bus full of angry women and the inevitable consequences of his rash actions. Shannon first joined the Episcopal ministry to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, and although he only lasted in his post for a year after graduating from seminary, he still clings to his status as a clergyman, keeping the title of “Reverend” in his name and employing the credential to bolster his image as a trustworthy tour guide. He is highly offended when the women call him a “defrocked” minister, tying his belief in his own righteousness to his undoubtedly incorrect assertion of his own good standing in the church, which he reaffirms with letters to the bishop that he never sends. As Shannon describes to Maxine what transpired during this latest tour, he clearly holds himself blameless, placing the responsibility for his behavior on the young girl whom he suggests seduced him. He also blames the mob of protective Baptist women chasing after him, dismissing their justified anger as mere “hysteria” (340). However, as Maxine observes, Shannon repeats this same cycle over and over, beginning with an inappropriate tryst that fills him with so much guilt that he beats the women for their consent and forces them to pray for forgiveness. This sense of shame arises from his mother’s severe physical discipline to punish him for masturbating during his childhood. His self-destructive cycle always ends with his having a mental health crisis on Maxine’s doorstep at the Costa Verde. Maxine always cares for him or sees to his care in a mental hospital if needed, and Shannon rises again, resurrected to return to his travels until the cycle begins again.

If the play implies that Shannon is, within his own delusions, a version of Jesus enduring martyrdom, Maxine and Hannah likewise round out the rest of this pale imitation of the Holy Trinity. In the light of this interpretation, Maxine’s full control of the surroundings reveals her to hold a somewhat God-like role; Shannon, who has unflatteringly likened God to a senile old man throwing angry tantrums about his own creations, likewise treats Maxine as if she is a nagging parent, ignoring the measures she has taken to ensure his safety and recovery. Hannah, who is described as “ethereal, almost ghostly” (338) represents the Holy Spirit, offering gentle guidance and honest empathy to Shannon and helping him to overcome his internal struggles. Hannah’s physical presence is implied to be insubstantial, an impression that is strengthened by the fact that Shannon cannot touch her. Thus, she is beautiful but effectively genderless and without sexual urges. However, beyond of Shannon’s elevated idea of Hannah, she is simply a fellow sufferer of mental illness, and she helps him to step out of his own delusion by observing that Shannon is treating the hotel, situated on a hill surrounded by the violent gauntlet of the jungle, as his own Golgotha, the hill where Jesus was crucified. When she ironically notes that a hammock in the tropics isn’t quite the same as being nailed to a cross, she highlights the absurdity of Shannon’s perspective, and he bristles at the idea that he is enjoying his martyrdom. However, her words force him to accept that it is possible to cope with his internal struggles without the theatrics of acting the martyr. When Shannon realizes that he can free himself from the rope that binds him, he breaks his self-destructive cycle for the first time and begins to consider humbler and more fulfilling prospects for his life. Instead of wallowing in his perceived loss of control, he also frees the iguana from its rope, commenting that he is doing God’s work because God isn’t going to do it.