The Lady, or the Tiger?

“[T]here lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which was barbaric.”

In this first description of the king, his duality is made evident: he is polished and progressive, while at the same time barbaric and authoritarian. This contrast is what arguably makes him “semi-barbaric,” which is the term that is most often used throughout the story to describe him and serves to highlight the discrepancy between his ideas and his actions.

“He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done.”

The narrator uses a slightly pompous tone that suggests he admires the king, but this attitude does not reflect the absurd behavior that he describes. The king’s habit of “self-communing” is in fact authoritarianism, disguised here as a rational thinking process. This contrast between the tone and the content of the sentence creates irony.

“When every member of [the king’s] domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.”

Structurally, the first part of this sentence sets up an expectation that is turned on its head in the next for dramatic effect. Indeed, as readers are shown that the king is amicable “when [things move] smoothly,” they logically expect him to be the opposite, i.e., angry or cruel, when things do not go his way. Instead, this expectation is subverted: the king is said to be even more amicable because he enjoys punishing faults, suggesting that his true motives are control and power rather than rational thought.

“This vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.”

This is the heart of the logical fallacy that underlies “The Lady, or the Tiger?” This quote explicitly states that trials are determined by chance, albeit “impartial and incorruptible,” rather than justice. The narrator’s pompous prose in the first part of the sentence distracts from the central piece of information, just as the king’s appearance of rationality distracts from his cruel decrees, thus creating irony.

“This was the king's semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king’s arena.”

This quote illustrates the fundamental fallacy that chance, as an incorruptible agent of fate, can retrospectively determine an accused person’s guilt or innocence. Once again, the narrator’s tone praises the king’s justice system (“its perfect fairness was obvious”) but contrasts it with the king’s disregard for his subjects’ autonomy (“There was no escape from the judgments”) to create irony.

“When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?”

This quote describes the public’s reaction to the trials, which are ironically shown to create surprise and enjoyment. The king’s arena is treated as a spectacle, its unpredictability made a feature rather than a fundamental flaw in the system. On top of that, the king’s main argument against criticism is that the accused are in complete control of their choice, but this is another logical fallacy. Whether they can pick which door to open should be a moot point: the justice system should prove their innocence or guilt before their sentencing, not by their sentencing.

“This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own.”

This first description of the princess echoes the king’s and emphasizes her dual nature. Also prone to grand ideas under the appearance of sophistication, the “semi-barbaric” princess is the catalyst of the final question addressed to the reader at the end of the story (namely, “Which came out of the open door?”). Her ambiguity is what allows the question to remain unanswered because either choice is made equally possible.

“Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens.”

The description of the princess’s lover as a typical romance hero draws on the reader’s knowledge of fairy tale archetypes and allows the narrator to create sympathy for this character. As he embodies the most positive qualities, the lover will make the princess’s—and therefore the reader’s—task in solving the final problem even more difficult and emotionally charged.

“He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena.”

This quote presents the king’s decision to “immediately” send the lover to prison as an impartial choice driven by his sense of duty. However, this seemingly rational thought process is arguably undermined by the situation itself: the young man is not said to have committed a crime. Once again, the narrator’s approving tone belies his actual claim to create a humorous effect.

“Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.”

The king’s apparent sense of duty and justice is explicitly highlighted by the narrator but again belied by the fact that the outcome of the trial is already known. Indeed, the king wants to “dispose of” the lover and has chosen the public arena to decide whether he will die or be married to someone else. Either way, the authoritarian king will get what he wants, so the trial is merely a public spectacle under the pretext of determining whether the lover did anything wrong.

“The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.”

This description of the lady to whom the lover may be married if he opens the correct door reveals the princess’s doubts. For the final problem to remain unsolvable, both options must be equally viable. Here, we can see that the princess views the other lady as competition and that her impetuous nature makes her decision unpredictable, making the open ending particularly effective.

“Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady?”

This is the main question that is asked of the reader at the end of the story and, on the surface, it seems to be the crux of the narrative. If the reader follows the logic set up by the first part of this tale, then the question cannot be answered because enough doubt has been sown by the characters’ thoughts and actions. However, the fact that the problem is unsolvable suggests that the underlying point of the story may lie elsewhere, for instance in a critique of justice and power.

“The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer.”

This is the first instance of authorial insertion in “The Lady, or the Tiger?” In this quote, the narrator uses “we” to associate himself with the reader, who is grappling with an unsolvable question. By distancing himself from the narrative as if he were only relating a story and by empathizing with the reader’s struggle, the narrator gives his question (i.e., “Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady?”) a semblance of objectivity and logic.