Cyrano de Bergerac: A Nose by Any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet
I was first captivated by the story of Cyrano de Bergerac when I had a bit part in a college production of Edmund Rostand’s famous play. For those who are unfamiliar, Cyrano de Bergerac is a swashbuckling poet with a monstrous nose — a character who makes more enemies than friends and who practices swordplay and wordplay at the same time, composing poems against pride and puncturing pomposity with a pun. A tragic character with a rubber nose — more a Touchstone than a Hamlet — Cyrano takes the stage in big boots and a broad-brimmed hat to swagger over his inferiors and swoon over his lady.
Cyrano’s nose is his red badge of courage and the symbol of his nobility, but it is also the red nose of the clown and the sign of his absurdity. This is why Cyrano is the quintessential romantic hero — not only because he is intelligent, courteous, courageous, and true, but because he is absurd. He is a swashbuckling fool, a hilarious hero; a cross between d’Artagnan and Jimmy Durante. His nobility, like his nose, is both admirable and laughable. As the romantic, foolish knight errant, Cyrano is comrade to Don Quixote who wears a saucepan for a helmet, rescues not so fair damsels in distress and jousts with gigantic windmills.