Monday, October 5, 2009

Gender Roles in Shakespeare

Upon reading Twelfth Night for the first time, what I was struck with most was how similar this play was when compared with the other Shakespeare I’ve read. All of Will’s staples are there: characters donning disguises for elaborately designed plots and for often unnecessary reasons, these disguises working ridiculously well although they often consist of solely a change of garment, reflections on what it means to be a “fool” and the nature of theatre as an entertainment medium, and a fifth act where all the tricks are revealed and all is resolved. Not to say that the repetition of these staples makes Shakespeare unoriginal, the point here being that compared to several other of Shakespeare’s works, Twelfth Night is relatively tame. Take Macbeth or Hamlet for instance: they are two of the man’s most famous works but are of course chock full with murder, gratuitous violence, incest and other deviant sexual practices. Then take a look at The Merchant of Venice or Othello and we are given hints of racist practices that would be considered despicable by today’s standards. Not to say that these plays don’t have any history of being banned, because I’m quite sure that they do, but to put Twelfth Night on the same page as these others seems outrageous on the outset.
That being said, if one were to pinpoint any problematic part of the play that may cause unrest within the book-banning communities, it would seem to be the unusual gender attractions we find occurring, especially between Olivia and Viola, although to a certain extent between Viola and the Duke. The fact that a woman could find another woman attractive (despite the fact that she is disguised as a man) asks interesting questions about the nature of sexual attraction. For people who believe firmly that any romantic or sexual relations should only exist between members of the opposite sex, this play asks questions that they may find hard to answer. If I were to find a woman attractive and “pursue” her or fall in love with her only to find out that she’s hiding something in between her legs, does this say anything about me? For some people, this question is just ridiculous, but for others, it may be a little scary, especially for those who have issues with LGBT community. Not to say that the characters in Twelfth Night are part of this community, as I don’t personally think Olivia would have continued pursuing Viola if she would have found out she was a woman, but it still crosses certain lines that especially those with more conservative values might find issue with.

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun, it shines every where.

Probably one of my favorite things about Shakespeare’s plays are the “fools” that show up in many of his works. There is usually more than one—there’s the jester type character, who usually proves he isn’t a fool at all, and some other character whose foolishness is revealed when he or she interacts with the jester-fool, or even another character. Early on in the play, in Act I, scene v, was my first indication that I was going to like this clown; after he tells Olivia that he thinks her brother’s soul is in hell and she insists that she knows his soul is in heaven, he says to her, “The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven.” He then tells her men to “take away the fool,” turning her own words against her.

This is just one of many instances in which the clown makes a fool of other characters. He has private conversations with most of the main characters. In his scene with Viola, he sees through her disguise, and says to her, “Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!” Viola even remarks after his exit, “This fellow is wise enough to play the fool.”

He also has a private conversation with Malvolio in which he pretends to be “Sir Topas” and tricks him, revealing himself as the clown much later. Although Malvolio insists that he is not mad, the clown’s response is, “ Nay, I’ll ne’er believe a madman til I see his brains.”

I think the point of the fool character in all of these works is to expose who really is a fool and who is not; the one who goes by the name “fool” is rarely so, and often those with titles, knights, and dukes are the most foolish. At the beginning of act five, he speaks briefly with the Duke. The Duke says he is “the better for my foes and the worse for my friends,” but the clown says that the contrary is true. He says, “my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.” This quote, I think, has a lot to do with the “truth” we’ve been discussing in class. The clown says he’d rather hear the truth from his enemies than flattery from his friends, but this is not the case with every character in the play. In fact, in the scene in which Sir Toby and Sir Andrew are eavesdropping on Malvolio, he mentions that one is a drunk and the other a fool, and neither of them are happy to have overheard his true opinions of them, and they are supposedly friends.

In the end, it’s the clown who gets the last word. Interesting to note that his song ends with the phrase, “and we’ll strive to please you every day.” In a way, this is his job description, and it’s interesting to see that he does it in such a way that he pleases himself by pointing out the follies of those he is working for. I like the fool usually because he is the funniest and the smartest—having no personal interest in the matter (except for maybe hoping he’ll keep his job, though in the beginning Olivia made it clear she didn’t want him and yet he stayed), he simply mocks what he sees with an unbiased yet critical eye. Though nameless, he appears perhaps most often in the play, and is definitely a crucial character.

Chalance through Nonchalance?

Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night mirrors Aristophanes’ Lysistrata in its moments of shocking lewdness and crudeness, though they appear more artfully veiled in poetry in the Bard’s play than they do in that of the Greek dramatist.  Sir Andrew and Sir Toby Belch converse freely with one another on the delicate subject of Sir Andrew’s ‘private hair;’ Sir Belch answers his query about how well it becomes him with a crass analogy to plant fibers spun from a long pole and an admonition that alludes to contraction of venereal disease that will cause this hair to fall out: “I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs and spin it off,” (I, 3).  The two men channel Lysistrata again at the end of the scene, discussing the implications of the astrological sign of Taurus under which they are both born.  Sir Belch’s cavalier remark about Taurus ruling the legs and thighs would not likely have gone over well if it had been viewed by a pagan, ancient Greek, god(s)-fearing audience (in Greek tradition, it was held that the sign of Taurus governed the body parts of the neck and throat. Sir Andrew doesn’t get it quite right either in his confident claim of it ruling the sides and heart).  The original Elizabethan audience may have derived amusement from this bawdy scene, but it is difficult to imagine this amusement being purely organic.  It seems far likelier that much of the laughter evoked would have come largely from immediate shock and consequent discomfort at the crassness of the subject matter.

As the play progresses, the crudeness persists, and boundaries of decency are pushed even further, with discussion of male endowment (“a good hanging”) as safeguard against marital unhappiness (I, 5) and sex as currency in the unromantic score-chart of the sexes (Viola: “Too well what love women to men may owe,” II, 4).  Though these subjects also loudly echo Lysistrata, several devices are used to mask them more effectively.  In the veil of poetic language, frank or cynical discussion of ‘touchy’ subjects almost always comes from expected characters: lewd Sir Belch, the ever-in-jest Feste, and the disenchanted, jaded Viola.  True to form, the play closes with a merry song, which appropriately seems to dismiss the act of indulging in foolishness in a light, devil-may-care aplomb.  The moral axiom by Quinapalus, stated by Feste in the last scene of the first act, is befitting to the play in that it captures its spirit: “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”  It seems that through wit, there is no subject that is off-limits.  When I think about it, such unbounded freedom of speech is daunting and even dangerous.  After reading Twelfth Night, it seems that Shakespeare would encourage me lightly not to overanalyze potential dangers.  But even in my amusement, that nagging conscience of mine refuses to stay quiet, conscious of the less than hilarious potential consequences of subverting address of weighty matters by way of sarcasm or deliberate nonchalance.

"Nothing that is so is so."

Truth is hard to come by in many of the works we’ve read so far. There is often a particular attention to the discrepancy between what appears to be and what is—Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night or, What You Will,” is no different. We’re presented with a host of characters who aren’t what they appear to be, the most prominent of which is Cesario, Violet’s male alter-ego, in a sense.

Her ambivalent role between man and woman—enabled by the constant references to her similar appearance to his twin brother, as well as mention of her as a eunuch—is strange. The fact that she is actually mistaken for her twin brother is stranger. And the fact that both a woman and a man—Olivia and the Duke—become so amorously attached to her guise is perhaps the strangest bit of all. It allows for the comedy of the play, but it also, I’m sure, leaves many readers a bit unsure or uneasy.

Perhaps the reason behind this uneasiness is threefold: the all-around deception involved in Violet’s ruse, the flexible gender role of a woman, and the insinuation of homoeroticism. What Violet appears to be—a man, Cesario—is clearly apart from the truth of what she is—a young woman. We are lead to believe that her lies are for self-preservation, but I can’t help but see this as a bit of a stretch. Huck Finn and Jim had to lie for their safety’s sake; Violet, it seems, is lying out of vanity: “O that I served [Olivia],/And might not be delivered to the world,/Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,/What my estate is!” (p. 3).

This guise also brings into question the idea of gender roles, much like we had seen in Lysistrata. Clearly, the idea of a woman posing as a man is comedic; but it also brings into question the idea of a women being genuinely in a man’s position. We don’t see Violet doing anything particularly manly in the play, but the very fact that everyone has confused her with her brother begs the question of difference between man and woman.

Finally, Violet’s trick also leads to the insinuation of homosexuality. I think this is unavoidable in her ruse. Olivia is in love with Cesario, who is really a woman. Violet, pretending to be a man, is in love with the Duke. When Cesario is revealed to be Violet in disguise, the Duke suddenly realizes how affectionate he is for this Cesario/Violet hybrid. In the end, I don’t think the reader is quite sure who the Duke loves. He proclaims to the still in-disguise Violet: “Your master quits you; and for your service done him,/[…]/And since you call’d me master for so long,/Here is my hand: you shall from this time be/Your master’s mistress” (p. 69). The Duke somehow seems to justify his sudden love for Violet with the loyal time Cesario has spent with him as a man.

Truth is clearly not a commodity known well to the characters of “Twelfth Night”—no one seems to be at all troubled by the elaborate ruse Violet has constructed. But this trouble of truth is not the most provocative aspect of the play. Rather, the idea of a woman acting as a man and attracting the love of both a man and a woman, seems to be the more sensational, ban-able aspect of this play.

"Nah-Nah-Nah-Boo-Boo!" in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

As my fellow classmates have pointed out, Twelfth Night has its fair share of controversial topics. However, on my second reading of Shakespeare's comedy, what jumped out at me more than anything else was the harassment throughout of Malvolio. Of course, he is not the most likeable character, and Shakespeare makes this so on purpose. But really his character shows a great deal of insight into human nature and ideas of what is humorous and entertaining in our world.

During my service experience last week, I experienced an interesting phenomenon, although not a surprising one. When I entered the classroom, the children were playing a memory game to learn homonyms. I was delighted to see they were very into the game, and were doing fairly well. However, one student went to the board and missed a very obvious right answer. The other children in the class were incensed! "It's right there!" one student shouted; "What are you STUPID?" cried another.

To say I was surprised would be a lie, but I was really disappointed in the students' behavior. Shouldn't they be supporting their fellow classmates, in order to win the game as a group, together? I realized then that this ease to tease that young children have reveals much about our deepest psychological ideas of entertainment. These students were almost enjoying taunting their fellow classmates, as well as noting obviously that they were smarter, or better, than their peers.

While reading Twelfth Night , I was of course entertained by Malvolio's foolishness. But his ultimate departure at the end of the play almost seems inappropriate with the happiness that usually comes with one of Shakespeare's comedies. The downfall of Malvolio is seen as something to jeer at, in sheer entertainment, while the happy couples get a fairytale ending.
Shakespeare understood that on some level, human beings can be entertained by the misfortunes of others. Whether this is in hopes of boosting one's own ego or in rejection of a "weak link," its true that at least the main characters, especially Maria and the rest of those in on the love note plot, got a kick out of Malvolio's embarassment. His departure at the end of the play and the letter he writes to Olivia show he has been a victim; he signs the letter as "the madly used Malvolio". Had Malvolio, the fool, been a little less bitter and less convinced to get his revenge, the audience would see him more as a victim than an antagonist. Shakespeare expertly disguises Malvolio's true function as a character by portraying him as a miserable character throughout. And to this day, hundreds of years after Twelfth Night was first performed, it is still comic in the same ways.

Love and Lust

In William Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night”, the Duke transitions from an understanding of love as purely based on physical appearance, to a belief that he has a stronger understanding of love, yet finds himself lost in a contradiction, to a final understanding that love cannot in fact be based on appearances.


In the beginning of the play we learn that the Duke has based his admiration for Olivia entirely on physical appearance. “ O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, / Methought she purged the air of pestilence! / That instant was I turn’d into a hart; / And my desires, lke fell and cruel hounds, / F’er since pusue me.” (Act I, scene i) Here we see that the Duke has not a sincere love for Olivia, but a deep desire based on passion and lust. He does not understand what love truly is, and instead is lead by his desire for her physical attributes. He mistakes lust for love.
Later in the play, he appears to believe that he has an understanding of love as he gives advice to Viola. “ For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, / Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, / More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, / Than women’s are.” (Act II, scene iv). In this quote, the Duke appears to have an understanding of his own incorrect feelings about love. He admits that men are more quick to look to the physical and become bored by a woman, seeking someone new and younger. He almost seems to acknowledge his own tendency to lean towards lust over love.
Yet very soon after, when Viola questions his love for Olivia, he contradicts himself, and further complicates the readers belief in his understanding. “There is no woman’s sides / Can bide the beating of a passion / As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart / So big, to hold so much; they lack retention. / Alas, their love may be call’d appetite, - / No motion of the liver, but the palate, - That suffer sufeit, cloyment and revolt; / But mine is all as hungry as the sea, / And can digest as much: make no compare / Between that love a woman can bear me / And that I owe Olivia” (Act II, scene iv) Where as before the Duke had claimed that men’s passions were wavering and quickly lost, he now claims that it would be impossible for a woman to feel as strong a love as he does for Olivia.

This contradicts his previous observation about love between men and women, as he now claims that a man can love stronger than a woman. His mistake however, is that he is still concentrating on his passion, desire and lust rather than what truly constitutes love. He describes his love as an appetite, which is far more closely related to lust than true feelings of love. Shakespeare is attempting to show in this blatant contradiction the power of appearances, and the danger in relying solely on those appearances. In the play, almost every character is behind a disguise, whether it is Viola pretending to be Cesario, or Olivia hiding behind her veil and brother’s death. Shakespeare is attempting to show that hiding behind lust, or having a misunderstanding of lust, is just as much a disguise of the Duke, as of Viola dressing up as a man.

I believe that Shakespeare wants the viewer to focus on the Duke and his transformation. At the end of the play, he ends up discovering that Cesario is in face Viola in disguise. It is in this final chaotic scene that the Duke fully demonstrates his change in opinion. Upon learning that Cesario married Olivia (who in reality was Sebastian), the Duke is terribly upset and angry feeling betrayed and hurt by Cesario. However, when he learns that the man was in fact Sebastian, he is no longer angry and instead focuses his attention on Viola. Recognizing that he is in love with Viola not for her physical appearance but for who she is as a person, he sends her off to find her women’s clothing and announces that there will be a celebration of both wedding. His ability to let go of his love for the physical appearance of Olivia, and embrace his emotional true love with Viola, helps to show his transition from lust to Love.

William Shakespeare, through the character of the Duke in “Twelfth Night”, shows the necessary transition and understanding from lust to love. The Duke begins the play with a belief that lust and passion is what love consists of, and that the greater the passion or appetite, the greater the love, but in falling in love with someone for their personality, he is able to finally understand that love should not be based on appearances.

The Biggest Joke of All

This was not my first reading of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, but my second and this time around I did not enjoy it for its comical nature or the fact that it had more misunderstandings than an episode of Seinfeld. I was angered by the characters trivialization of love. Each character has some instance where they abuse love or transfer their seemingly profound love for someone onto a completely different person in the blink of an eye based on the convenience of a situation. From the beginning of the play we are introduced to the Duke Orsino, who is love sick above all else over Olivia. It is hard to believe that the Duke is actually in love with Olivia, because he never approaches her himself. He uses his servants to express his condition and his professions of love to Olivia. Either this is a tactic to seem more romantic or it is a clever way of avoiding rejection. Nonetheless the Duke’s attempts always fail because Olivia claims that because his long speeches are so poetic they must be false.
After Viola enters the play and conceals her identity as Cesario we begin to see how “love at first sight” takes over the play. Viola immediately falls in love with the Duke, Olivia immediately falls in love with Viola as Cesario, and perhaps the most pathetic trivialization of love occurs when Malvolio is tricked into falling in love with Olivia. When Maria, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian decide to trick Malvolio they are the guiltiest culprits of the sins against love. What is strange about this situation is that Maria’s trickery and deception causes Sir Toby to fall in love with her so madly that he actually marries her. This is a prime example that this play shows the most unconventional methods of falling in love. Viola falls in love with Orsino even though he is constantly explaining how much he loves another woman. It is hard for me to believe that her reasoning for falling in love is that she sees how passionate Orsino loves Olivia but rather the age old idea that as humans, we want what we can’t have. Olivia falls for Cesario because of “his” good looks, which is odd because he is described as being very feminine. This suggests some kind of homoerotic and shallow attraction that Olivia has for Viola.
At the conclusion of the play when everything is resolved (in a sense), Olivia ends up married to Viola’s twin brother Sebastian, Viola to be married to Duke Orsino, Maria married to Sir Toby Belch, Sir Toby and Sir Andrew beat up by Sebastian, and Malvolio wrecked with revenge and anger. The biggest joke of all is that nothing is at all resolved at the end of this play. Both the Duke and Olivia are able to take the love they have for someone and thrust it onto someone else because it is easier to live that way. Olivia can be with the male version of Viola, Sebastian, and Orsino can be with the female Viola. The presentation of the twins Viola and Sebastian in Act 5, scene 1 creates some strange androgynous being, the culmination of Viola’s femininity and Sebastian’s masculinity. There also seems to be a jab made at female sexual orientation in the play. When Viola turns into Cesario, she ends up cursing her femininity and blames the fact that she is so in love with Orsino on her weakness as a woman. When Malvolio finds the forged letter of Olivia’s he focuses on her C’s, U’s, and T’s and the fact she uses them to make her P’s. This is a reference to female genitalia and it is clearly a joke, saying that a woman’s private parts are the only tool she has to be able to create peace in any given situation. It would appear that Shakespeare might be making the claim that love is love and sexual orientation does not matter in the scheme of love. This also represents the fickle nature of humankind, to be able to change their minds so frequently.
The only character that leaves the play with any sense of dignity or common sense is the Fool. This is a character that Shakespeare uses in most of his plays to be the sense of truth in the work. The fool is the only character that can speak truth to nature. He is able to act foolish because he is the fool but at the same time he brings out the foolish nature of all he comes in contact with, it is allowed only because of his title as the fool.