Beautiful, sad film and I think I've finally seen the light.

I think you are missing the point. The reason Othello acts the way he does is not because he has a large ego but because of the manipulations of his so called "best friend". Othello does not just take Iagos word on the subject, he is confronted with seemingly indisputable evidence in the form of the hankercheif.

If your best friend came to you with evidence that your girlfriend/wife was having an affair, would you calmy go and ask her or would you get so mad that you flew into a fit of rage.

Othellos ego is bolstered during the play by Iago. to such an extent that Othello begins to believe that he is the best. This therefore makes it harder to accept that Dessie is having an affair with a "lesser" man. But this is caused, quite intentionally, by Iago.





"Put money in thy purse..."

It's not so much that he loved himself too much, but that he loved Iago. "...one that loved not wisely, but too well" does not refer so much to his love for Desdemona as it does his love for Iago. Othello loved and trusted Iago and never could believe for an instant that Iago would betray him. Desdemona, on the other hand, had already betrayed her father, so when "honest Iago" suggests that she has also betrayed her husband, thats not really so hard to believe. And for the record, I abhor this play, they are all whiny little bitches and should have been drowned in the canals of Venice in the first scene.

From "Die Frohliche Wissenschaft" by Nietzsche:

The things people call love.— Avarice and love: what different feelings these two terms evoke!—nevertheless it could be the same instinct that has two names, once deprecated by those who have, in whom the instinct has calmed down to some extent, and who are afraid for their "possessions"; the other time seen from the point of view of those who are not satisfied but still thirsty and who therefore glorify the instinct as "good." Our love of our neighbor—is it not a desire for new possessions? And likewise our love of knowledge, truth, and altogether any desire for what is new? Gradually we become tired of the old, of what we safely possess, and we stretch out our hands again; even the most beautiful scenery is no longer assured of our love after we have lived in it for three months, and some distant coast attracts our avarice: possessions are generally diminished by possession. Our pleasure in ourselves tries to maintain itself by again and again changing something new into ourselves,—that is what possession means. To become tired of some possession means: tiring of ourselves. (One can also suffer of an excess—the lust to throw away or to distribute can also assume the honorary name of "love.") When we see somebody suffer, we like to exploit this opportunity to take possession of him; those who become his benefactors and pity him, for example, do this and call the lust for a new possession that he awakens in them "love"; and the pleasure they feel is comparable to that aroused by the prospect of a new conquest. Sexual love betrays itself most clearly as a desire for possession: the lover wants unconditional and sole possession of the person for whom he longs, he wants equally unconditional power over the soul and over the body of the beloved; he alone wants to be loved and desires to live and rule in the other soul as supreme and supremely desirable. If one considers that this means nothing less than excluding the whole world from a precious good, from happiness and enjoyment; if one considers that the lover aims at the impoverishment and deprivation of all competitors and would like to become the dragon guarding his golden hoard as the most inconsiderate and selfish of all "conquerors" and exploiters; if one considers, finally, that to the lover himself the whole rest of the world appears indifferent, pale, and worthless, and he is prepared to make any sacrifice, to disturb any order, to subordinate all other interests—then one comes to feel genuine amazement that this wild avarice and injustice of sexual love has been glorified and deified so much in all ages—indeed, that this love has furnished the concept of love as the opposite of egoism while it actually may be the most ingenuous expression of egoism. At this point linguistic usage has evidently been formed by those who did not possess but desired,—probably, there have always been too many of these. Those to whom much possession and satiety were granted in this area have occasionally made some casual remark about "the raging demon," as that most gracious and beloved of all Athenians, Sophocles, did: but Eros has always laughed at such blasphemers,—they were invariably his greatest favorites. Here and there on earth we may encounter a kind of continuation of love in which this possessive craving of two people for each other gives way to a new desire and lust for possession, a shared higher thirst for an ideal above them: but who knows such love? Who has experienced it? Its right name is friendship.

hm....sorry but I think you missed one crucial point here. Racism. Don't you think that quite the opposite is true? That Othello has in fact huge self-doubts having to face the daily racism of this time, we are talking about a time full of slavery and such. He is after all just "the Moor" and is only then adressed by his name when he is present. Wouldn't he be the soldier he is, it is doubtful he was allowed to remain in Venice like this.

And I am more than convinced that Othello is very aware of the underlying racism. He wouldn't have to use such a rethoric and state explicitly how valuable he is as a fighter and man, if he was felt secure of his qualities and of his place in society. In front of the Seant he denies he'll feel any passion for his wife...to avoid the stereotype of the "old black ram".

He loves Desdemona, truly with all his heart, thus he kills himself because he can't stand the truth that it is in fact a murder and not a sacrifice. He has to kill her in order to keep up his fashioned self, to shield himself from facing what everybody around him (except D.) seems to believe true: that he is just a jealous, sex driven, wild moor. Which he of course is not. But he has internalised the stereotypes in such a way, that he would do anything to prevent them from seeming to be justified. (Inner racism).

I think jealousy might play a role, a minor one, though, because look at how quick his transition is. And he says it himself, I guess in the temptation scene, that he is older and of a different racial background than Desdemona, yet she chose him. He *is* very aware of racial prejudice.

So...I think that's the major point... .

And yeah, the acting is awesome.

I feel that Othello did not love himself at all. He is easily persuaded that Desdemona has rejected him for another lover, because he is old, black and unrefined. He feels completely inadequate as a courtier and as a lover, however effective he is as a soldier.

That is a very good point.