Macbeth and the Rise of the Antihero in Literature

In contemporary literature and media, we are surrounded by characters who do terrible things and yet, we remain captivated. These are not traditional heroes; they are often liars and manipulators. They betray those closest to them. They break the rules we expect protagonists to follow. And somehow, they still command our sympathy, or at the very least, our attention. These are the antiheroes. 

While the rise of the antihero might seem like a modern trend, fed by morally complex protagonists in television, film and fiction, it is not new. The seeds of this character type were planted long ago. One of literature’s earliest and most compelling antiheroes was penned by William Shakespeare: Macbeth. 

At the beginning of the play, Macbeth is not a villain. He is a loyal subject, a revered soldier, and a man respected by both his peers and his king. Yet from the moment he hears the witches’ prophecy that he will become king, something inside him fractures. Ambition, which might have been dormant before, now takes root, and from that seed grows something dangerous. 

What makes Macbeth so compelling is not the murder of Duncan itself, but the moral unraveling that follows. He knows it is wrong. He tries to resist it. And yet, he cannot let go of his growing desire once it has entered his mind. 

This is where Macbeth begins to resemble the modern antihero. He is not evil for evil’s sake. He is weak, human, ambitious, conflicted. His choices are deliberate, but not simple. He is a man haunted by his own actions, spiraling further out of control with each attempt to regain the power and security he thought killing the king would bring. 

Traditional heroes, particularly in classical literature, embody virtue. They are guided by honor, justice, and a moral code that distinguishes them from their enemies. They struggle, yes, but they rarely cross the lines that define heroism. Antiheroes, on the other hand, live in the gray. They are flawed, morally ambiguous, and often shaped by loss or disillusionment. They may commit acts of violence or deceit, but they do so with full awareness – and often, with the audience’s reluctant understanding. 

In this way, Macbeth becomes a prototype for the antihero: a man whose internal conflict is so vividly portrayed that we begin to understand, if not excuse, his descent. He does terrible things, but Shakespeare allows us to see the cost. Macbeth is tormented by guilt. He hallucinates and hears voices that cry, “Sleep no more!” His conscience is not gone, it is breaking. Macbeth is not a hero, and he is not meant to be. But he is not entirely a villain either. He is a man who could have made different choices and didn’t. He is both powerful and powerless, acting with agency and yet driven by forces he does not fully understand: prophecy, ambition, fear and guilt. 

Today’s readers may be drawn to characters like Macbeth because they are, in many ways, more human than heroes. We don’t always relate to nobility or righteousness, but we understand regret, temptation and shame. Antiheroes reflect a deeper psychological realism than many classic protagonists. They mirror the complexity of our human nature. Thus, the appeal may lie not in the evil, but in the fall.