Out of all the interesting characters in Richard III, Lady Anne and the Duchess of York are the most surprising in my opinion. I say this because it seems that these are the only two characters who fully understand the capabilities of Richard and his desire to take over the throne. Let’s start with Lady Anne, the newly widowed woman who is manipulated by Richard into marriage, and for one brief moment murder, however, she succumbs to the manipulation and agreed on becoming his wife in front of her late husband’s corpse. Although, we the reader views this, or perhaps I view this as a complete disaster and illogical, I decided to put myself in Lady Anne’s shoes. For she will be marrying, once again into a royal family, thus having a life of leisure and luxury. It was instilled in woman that without a man they were looked down on in society for they had nothing. So I guess in her defense she is looking after herself and making sure she has some sort of life left, even if she does have to marry a villain. What Lady Anne fails to see, or maybe she turns a blind eye too is that Richard uses her merely for his own political agenda, which further confirms my earlier point that women were viewed as objects that were only needed to advance men in whatever they desired. Lady Anne and Richard’s conversation illustrates his manipulative ways and her understanding of who he truly is

(LA)Villain, thou know’st no law of God nor man/ No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. (1:2:245)

(R) But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

(LA) O wonderful, when the devil tells the truth!

(R) More wonderful, when angles are so angry./ Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,/ Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave,/ By circumstance, but to acquit myself. (1:2:252).

The way Richard manipulates Lady Anne,( after just having her husband killed) into marrying him masterfully displays his devious nature

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;

Which if thou please to hide in this true breast

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword] (1.2.48)

He plays to her weakness, for he knows she wouldn’t never commit a murder and by handing her the sword leads her to think that he, in fact, cares for her.

Richard III is complex in the sense that most characters know the evil Richard possesses, however, they often seem hesitate to do anything about it. It is as if he has become the “talk of the town” something the other elites can talk to In a means to distract them from their own life. On the contrary, the Duchess of York, Richard’s mother expresses to the others that she wants Richard to “die by God’s just ordinance”(4.4.17).  This type of warning seems odd to me, for it is his mother that is warning everyone else of his vicious ways. Perhaps, this is her cry for help, after all mothers do know best. I am going to shift slightly and dive into who Richard is as a character. He is quite interesting and perhaps, a point I made in class is that he is full of evil intent and motivation in efforts to overcompensate for the lack of power or acceptance he had growing up with his physical deformity. Similar to Iago, Richard has this desire to amass as much power, recognition and self righteousness that he can, regardless of who is in his way.

Lady Anne and the Duchess of York both use the word “evil” when referring to, and addressing Richard, which I find it quite interesting for female characters to have such a profound voice in calling out an heir to the throne for his default of character. I enjoy seeing women have the voice of reason within the play it creates some stability. The women appear to be the voice of reason, while Richard and his men create the chaos, death and destruction. I can’t help but think that this is a commentary on Shakespeare’s era, and many eras that would follow.

We talked in class about women’s roles in Richard III as perhaps the viewpoints from the margins presenting a “feminine” alternative to history, and a way of mourning and recognizing suffering that King Richard III caused (and causes in the play). Queen Margaret and the Duchess of York are major examplesof characters who are able to recognize, call attention to, and, in ways, overcome the awfulness that Richard brings to the table. Lady Anne and Queen Elizabeth, however, are more in the center of things and tend to give in to Richard. Something that bothers me about the play (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing) is that Lady Anne disappears and is presumably somehow murdered by Richard, but there’s barely any mention of her death.

In 4.1 she’s summoned to be crowned, supposedly, and comments that Richard “will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me” (81). She anticipates Richard’s plan to discard her in some fashion, expecting and commenting on her own death, but follows his command anyway. The next mention of Anne is in 4.2. when Richard is himself crowned and tells Catesby: “Rumor it abroad / That Anne my wife is sick and like to die; / I will take order for her keeping close” (48-50). I think it’s safe to assume that Anne is not sick, but Richard is concerned with having people “abroad” think that she is. He also wants her to be kept close, which the footnotes in the Norton translate to “I will arrange to have her kept out of sight,” which, if she needs to be “kept out of sight,” indicates that she’s not as much on her deathbed as he’s claiming her to be. I also think it’s interesting that he repeats himself in the same stretch of mini-monologue: “Look how thou dream’st! I say again, give out / That Anne my wife is sick and like to die” (54-55). Then he has an aside where he says he must marry Elizabeth of York. The “Look how thou dream’st!” comment makes it seem like Catesby seems either shocked or to not be paying attention, warranting repetition. If he’s shocked, it’s for good reason, because it’s a very strange request that makes it clear that Anne is in danger of Richard. Also, the direct repetition of the line (which I feel like has happened a lot in Richard III and hasn’t happened in most of the other plays we’ve read, so I can see why people think that the first tetralogy might not have been written by Shakespeare) about Anne does something in terms of emphasis that I think ironizes, in a way, what he’s saying. It makes me think of the line from Hamlet, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” meaning his insistence that she’s ill and dying makes it very clear that she’s definitely not ill or dying.

It’s also barely apparent that she’s died. In 4.3., Richard is going through everyone he’s gotten rid of: “The son of Clarence have I pent up close. / His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage. / The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham’s bosom, / And Anne my wife hath bid the world goodnight.” (36-39). The context of the others that he’s basically disposed of makes it clear that he had something to do with Anne’s death, even though it doesn’t fully acknowledge that she’s been killed because he says it so casually. He doesn’t even take responsibility for Anne’s death—she’s the one doing the action in the line, bidding the world goodnight, similarly to the way he talks about Edward’s sons and how they “sleep.” I think it’s interesting that he’s using sleep to minimize the severity of deaths that he’s caused here.

Part of what bothers me about the situation with Anne, I think, and by extension about the situation with Elizabeth of York, is that we see Richard earlier in the play apparently convincing Anne of his love for her, claiming that he killed her husband and father in law because of her beauty and his love for her. For starters, it’s extremely clear that he doesn’t actually love her since he was so eager to dispose of her, so the fact that she “believed” him for that argument (even if it was her own notion of self-preservation and not some kind of gullibility that made her agree to marry him) is bothersome. He also makes the exact same argument of “love” to Queen Elizabeth about her daughter: “I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter / And mean to make her queen of England” (4.4.236-237). It almost makes the two—Anne and Elizabeth—seem weak for falling for his tricks (even though I don’ t think they’ve truly fallen for anything), especially because Elizabeth is aware of what happened to Anne (Elizabeth says in the argument that Richard “Mad’st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne” (4.4.256), which is translated to “Got rid of”). I wonder how Shakespeare’s original audience might have taken these characters’ actions (and how they was intended to be taken).

 

 

 

(Other things that I think are worth mentioning but have already gone overboard talking about are the repeated lines that liken death to sleep—Catesby “dream’st”, Edward’s sons “sleep”, and Anne “hath bid the world goodnight”—and the possible significance of that; as well as Queen Margaret and the Duchess of York’s roles in the whole situation in relation/comparison to Anne and Elizabeth.)

Throughout my reading of Richard III I have been surprised by the play’s similarity to the Netflix show House of Cards, which chronicles the manipulative and vicious actions of the power-hungry politician Frank Underwood. Both the show and the play include the main character breaking the fourth wall, and they both seem to demonstrate the flawed intricacies of the political systems that continue to exist even today. The show, and this play, force us to question the intentions of those who seek power and how their power affects the people around them. The play highlights many of the political issues that exist in our world today, especially how people maintain power through fear. Richard continues to obtain power by forcing fear into the hearts of those around him. Lady Anne submits to Richard’s advances because of fear, but it is not just those within his inner circle that experience fear. The common citizens are aware of the the problems that exist within their government, and they are fearful of those in command. For example, after the King Edward is announced dead, one citizen states, “Bad news, by’r Lady; seldom comes the better. / I fear, I fear, ‘twill prove a troublous world” (2.3.4-5). I think that it is very important that Shakespeare includes the perspective of those outside the royal family, since these are the people who will truly be affected by Richard’s malicious regime. The moment also demonstrates how citizens are more aware than we may realize, and they are capable of recognizing and critiquing their own government.

 

The power that Richard continues to gain throughout the play causes fear within the people around him, and it even silences them. The Scrivener states, “Here’s a good world the while! Why, who’s so gross / That sees not this palpable device? / Yet who’s so bold but says he sees it not? / Bad is the world, and all will come to naught / When such bad dealing must be seen in thought” (3.6.10-14). He notes how everyone must be aware of all of the evil actions that Richard is committing, but everyone is so afraid of him that they choose to remain silent. The inability of people to speak out against violence because of fear is something that is relevant in our political system today. Even in our society people are able to identify and acknowledge the malicious actions of those in power, but oftentimes the power that those officials have causes people to remain silent out of fear. Richard III may appear to just be a dramatic play about a manipulative man, but it actually contains events and sentiments about fear and power that are still being exposed in our society today.

 

People in power may have the ability to invoke fear in others, but as the play progresses we begin to see that the power is actually in the hands of the people. Buckingham announces to the citizens that Richard is king, and they do not respond how Richard hopes they would. Buckingham notes, “But like dumb statues or breathing stones / Gazed each on other and looked deadly pale, / Which when I saw, I reprehended them” (3.7.20-24). The citizens of England are the ones who have the ability to resist Richard’s developing power, and they resist by refusing to idly praise and accept the new king. I am not sure what will happen as the play progresses, but I really appreciate the role that the citizens have in questioning and resisting those in power. Our political atmosphere today still contains political figures who are stripping people of their rights as well as abusing power, and the hope of many is that the power of the people will impede and prevent the violent actions of those in power. The people in our society have been able to resist and question those in power, and I hope as the play continues that the citizens of England will continue to be an integral part of Richard’s downfall.

To me, one of the most striking things about Othello (which is really saying something) is the fact that most of Emilia’s speech in 4.3 (lines 81-98) did not appear in the quarto version of the play. I think it’s an incredibly important sentiment to be expressed in this play, especially by Emilia, arguably the most pragmatic and realistic character in it. It’s remarkable, even aside from the fact that it is a literal humanization of women and an indictment of men cases of their own “cuckolding”; the thing that stood out to me the most is how much the structure, tone, and theme reminded me of a very famous “catechism”* in Shakespeare: that of Shylock in The Merchant of Venice (3.1.44ff). Both are (rather compelling) refutations of commonly held–and sometimes very dearly held–beliefs that force the audience to see things from a perspective that they may not have considered before, one that makes them kind of uncomfortable, but ultimately leaves them thinking.

So let’s take a look at these monologues. I’ve put them in chronological order, because that makes it even more interesting:

I think the rhetorical and thematic similarities are pretty remarkable. They have a few things in common, but the first is that Shylock and Emilia each assert that their status as an “other” does not strip them of their humanity; both use the “senses” to speak to a kind of universal human experience, stripping away all identities to reveal the bones underneath. They are, first and foremost, re-humanizing themselves on a fundamental level.

Shylock and Emilia make use of rhetorical questions in order to guide the progression of thought in a way that circumvents the antisemitic or sexist tendencies that their society has fostered in the minds of the people. It’s a brilliant way to control the logic of a situation, moving from one conclusion to another, connecting them in order to create a chain leading to your point. This isn’t to say that it’s purely a rhetorical strategy or that their arguments require that kind of leading, but it’s a powerful tool that they each make use of.

Perhaps the most important similarity is that both Shylock and Emilia make it absolutely clear that they are reacting to something–that the morally dubious acts they’re proposing are not just designs of their own making, but responses to mistreatment. Shylock has been persecuted as a Jew for his entire life, and decried because he makes a living in one of the few positions he hasn’t been barred from taking: that of a moneylender (who collects interest). Emilia has been married to Iago for God knows how long, but even if it was only a day, that’s a day too many. She’s as aware of the capacity humans have for jealousy, insecurity, and betrayal–their “frailty”–as she is of their need for “sport.” She refers to wives being abused or misused by their husbands, and rejects the notion that it’s something to be dutifully tolerated. Rather, like Shylock, Emilia suggests that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander–that, having learned how to react to these indignities through the actions of their oppressors, they are merely following the examples of their supposed superiors.

 

*As a bonus–I originally wanted to include Falstaff’s “honor” speech from 1 Henry IV, because that’s the other monologue that Emilia’s reminded me of:

(Falstaff, on the battlefield, responding to Prince Hal: “Why, thou owest God a death.”)

‘Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I to be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter; honor pricks me on. Yea, but how is honor prick me off when I come on? How, then? Can honor set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word “honor”? What is that “honor”? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o’Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ‘Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. (1 Henry IV, 5.1.127-139)

I don’t get the fuss about the handkerchief. It seems all right to me. The play spends a large amount of time on Iago’s cunning deception, especially on the seemingly quick-witted Othello. Iago’s crafty deception is well established. Moreover, Iago sometimes gives the audience insight on his technique. The most notable of these insights is his statement about the jealous mind: “Trifles light as air / Are to the jealous confirmations strong / as proofs of holy writ” (3.3.319-21). So, as it was discussed in class, in a way, the handkerchief is supposed to be stupid. It’s a trifle. It’s the trifle. If you are going to quibble and say the handkerchief is not reasonable, then you should focus on what you are really arguing with: the believability of the characters and their actions (the psychology of the mind that is portrayed).

As we discussed in class, the handkerchief is an open signifier. It can mean anything. There is no connection between the signifier and the actual object. Now, in one way, the handkerchief symbolically represents Othello and Desdemona’s marital bond and trust. This symbol works rather well when the handkerchief is dropped by Othello and Desdemona and passed around between Desdemona, Emila, Cassio, and Bianca, which conveys the amount of interference in their marriage. The handkerchief also represents Desdemona’s body. Othello sees the handkerchief passed around willy-nilly. It is ironic that he assists her in dropping it in the first place. When Desdemona offers up her handkerchief to Othello, he says, “Your napkin is too little” (3.3.285). Othello seems to value this token of love more than he does Desdemona. I think the handkerchief functions well symbolically and as the object that sets off Othello’s jealousy.

Yes, the tragedy seems like it hinges upon Desdemona dropping the handkerchief. However, the handkerchief is only a mere vessel for the real force of the plot, Iago’s deception.

The relationship between Iago and Emilia is the most interesting, to me, in this play. We’ve talked a little in class about Iago’s motivations for basically being the most evil character we’ve read about, and the only thing that he himself has said to direct us to an answer (though it’s still not a very satisfactory one, at least to me) regards his wife. He claims that Othello slept with his wife: “For that I do suspect the lusty Moor / Hath leaped into my seat, the thought whereof / Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards” (2.1.278-280). The jealous rage that he plans to put Othello in is his revenge for this perceived act.

Emilia says, when she gives the handkerchief to Iago: “What will you do with’t, that you have been so earnest / To have me filch it?” (3.3.310-315—these citations are going to be approximations because the line numbers in my edition are odd). There is no one on stage other than the two of them at this point in the scene, so they are not performing for anyone: Emilia is truly not plotting with Iago. When he skirts her question by asking why she needs to know, she says: “If it be not for some purpose of import, / Give’t me again. Poor lady, she’ll run mad/ When she shall lack it” (3.3.314-316). The fact that she asks for the handkerchief back and seems to be worried about Desdemona’s state when she realizes that it is missing makes it clear that she’s not doing this for malicious purposes, but for some misguided loyalty to her husband.

Later, after Othello has called Desdemona a whore, it seems like Emilia might at least have a vague inkling about Iago’s plot (not that she approves of it). She says to both Iago and Desdemona: “The Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave, / Some base, notorious knave, some scurvy fellow” (4.2.138-39). Her audience in this makes it seem to me that she’s aware that Iago is manipulating Othello, since she is the one suggesting that “some most villainous knave” is “abus[ing]” Othello. If she were involved in the plot, there would be no need to suggest to Desdemona that there was someone whispering in Othello’s ear and making him act the way that he has been acting. Clearly Emilia cares about her lady, especially based on her interaction with Iago in Act III, although it’s also possible that she’s just saying these things for her husband’s benefit. The next few lines include an aside from Emilia to Iago: “Some such squire he was / That turned your wit the seamy-side without, / And made you to suspect me with the Moor” (4.2.144-146). This brings me back to the handkerchief: does Emilia think she has something to make up for to Iago, or does she want to placate him because he thinks that she cheated on him? She is also angry, though, since she refers to him (assuming, as I think it is safe to, that she is aware that he is the one causing Othello to act out) as a “villainous” and “base, notorious knave.”

Perhaps a more interesting idea than the general relationship between Emilia and Iago, though, is how the situation between them mirrors the situation between Desdemona and Othello. Iago believes, mistakenly, that Emilia and Othello have had an affair. As a result, he enacts an entire manipulative plot to get Othello to kill his wife, and we as an audience perceive him as completely evil with no legitimate reason behind it. Othello is convinced, also mistakenly, that Desdemona is having an affair. As a result, he becomes mad with rage and (spoiler alert) murders her. Both men have been convinced of something false, and act not-at-all-accordingly, since they take things much too far with their anger. Both of their wives appear to be good people who are more willing to stay with their husbands than they should be considering how badly they end up being treated.

 

I understand why a character like Iago would be so unlikeable, and his destructive actions throughout the play definitely prove that he is a cruel individual. However, there seems to be sufficient amount of evidence throughout the play that proves that Iago does have a reason behind his actions. When I first read this play a few years ago I was convinced that Iago was a motiveless character who thrived off of the chaos and misery of others. But after thoroughly re-reading this play, I think that there is evidence to prove that Iago’s maliciousness is due to his internal conflict about his sexuality. Early on Iago expresses that he does not want anyone to know who he truly is, he states, “But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve / For daws to peck at. I am not what I am” (1.1.61-71). He indicates that if he wore his heart on his sleeve then people would “pick” at him, which may indicate that there is a part of his identity he may be ashamed about. Also, for him to say that he is not what what people think he is reveals that people are not aware of his true identity. Iago also shares a lot of intimate moments with Othello, and it is clear that Iago deeply understands Othello, since he is able to manipulate him by understanding Othello’s strengths and weaknesses. It is not rare for men to share a bond like this, but the other factor causing me to question his sexuality is his constant criticism of women. For example, at one point Iago states, “Come on! Come on! You are pictures out of door, / Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens, / Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, / Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your bed” (2.1.108-111). He seems to think that all women are the same, and he suggests that even though women look presentable in public, it does not mean that they are good people or that they are satisfying in bed. Iago’s statement seems to reveal that he does not have strong sexual feelings towards women, while he is more than willing to spend an exorbitant amount of time with Othello.

 

Iago also seems to use the lie about Desdemona being unfaithful in order to spend more intimate time with Othello. Iago subtly suggesting to Othello that Desdemona may be cheating, and Othello states that Iago has to tell him the truth otherwise he is not a good friend. Iago responds to this, stating, “My lord, you know I love you” (3.3.116). He may be continuing his manipulation, but he could also be using the situation to interject his feelings about Othello without repercussion. Iago’s lust for Othello may be causing him to destroy Othello’s love life, in the sense that if Iago cannot have Othello, then no one can. Iago does not ever give one clear answer as to why he is manipulating Othello, in fact, he continually changes his reason for torturing Othello. At first he states that his reason is because Othello did not choose him for the lieutenant position, he states, “I know my price, I am worth no worse a place” (1.1.10). However, a few scenes later he states that he is being malicious because he thinks Othello has been having an affair with his wife, he states, “For that I do suspect the lusty Moor / Hath leaped into my seat” (2.3.279-80). He seems to change his mind a lot about why he hates Othello, which exposes that both of these reasons probably have nothing to do with Iago’s actions towards Othello. Perhaps Iago realized that not getting the lieutenant position would mean that he would have to spend less time with Othello, and that Cassio would be the one who would get alone time with Othello. Cassio’s ability to spend time with Othello would explain why Iago took vindictive actions towards both Othello and Cassio. Iago’s negative feelings about his sexuality are not an excuse for his cruel actions, but it does provide us with some understanding of Iago’s character and why he is so cruel to others. Ultimately Iago may just be a character who does not know how cope with his feelings towards men, and he creates destruction in other people’s lives instead of taking the time to try and understand his sexuality.

In reading Shakespeare’s Othello I have come to the conclusion that this is by far my least favorite Shakespeare play, the deciding factor for me was then Iago opened his mouth. I know, sounds harsh but I genuinely cannot find anything enjoyable about him. His deceptive and evil nature deters me. I understand that all great genres need an evil twist to create some conflict, otherwise it would not be merely as enjoyable, however, this isn’t my cup of tea

I often think during my readings of the play, “why would Shakespeare want to include a character such as he?”. I feel this question is rhetorical, considering I don’t have any way of connecting to Shakespeare. Ill explain the many reasons as to why Iago boils my blood. Right off the bat of the play Roderigo is paying Iago in efforts to gain Desdemona’s love. Iago has clearly portrayed himself as being selfish and only looking after himself. I understand that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it is important to always watch yourself to make sure others aren’t taking advantage of you, so ill give Iago that point, however, the way he treats his supposed “friend” shows his true character. He has manipulated Roderigo into thinking that he is cupid and will make Desdemona love him as long as he gets a little extra cash on the side. Perhaps, my next thought may be a stretch, but I feel that this is a social commentary on men who feel women will fall in love with them because they think they are worthy. Maybe it isn’t but this scene does implicate the ego Iago has, which as the play progresses later develops and becomes out of hand. What is Iago’s purpose in getting into everyone’s business? Doesn’t he have enough to worry about considering he believes his wife, Emilia is cheating on him? Which, if this in fact is true I cannot blame her, rather I feel sorry she has married Iago. Iago devises a plan to wake Desdemona’s father as a way to show him his daughter is not who he thinks she is. He is expressing to her father that she has eloped with Othello’ talking negatively about Othello and Desdemona.

Call up her father,
Rouse him. Make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such changes of vexation on ‘t
As it may lose some color. (1.1.74-80)

In this beginning of the play he is so quick to throw Othello under the bus because he is upset he was not promoted to be his lieutenant, then as the play continues we see this shift in Iago where he realizes that he will play on Othello’s weakness in efforts to have Othello remove Cassio form the position. Of course, like any master manipulator and a pathological liar he preys on his victims weakness and acts like their friend while planting lies in their minds about the person he has an issue with.

But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor,
And it is thought abroad that ‘twixt my sheets
He has done my office. I know not if ‘t be true,
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. (1.3.429-433)

Iago clearly states how much he despises the Moor. Now, I am going to backtrack. I understand the need to create conflict within the play. My criticism lies with the amount of evil that has occurred all because of Iago. As a reader it does not make me want to read more for it is almost too over the top that he has this ability to control all these strong characters minds with this idea that Desdemona is a cheater. It loses its realness. It takes away the meaning of the work. In my opinion, I enjoyed that the main character was a Moor, it was different and it seemed like Shakespeare was making a social statement creating the most powerful and needed character to be a Moor. When you start creating a character like Iago it diminishes the modern elements. Granted, everything Shakespeare does seems to have some meaning behind it or motive. It could also be important for him to have a character like Iago in the play to counter the Moor and show how a white male is overpowering this black man who appears to have all the power because of his labels, however, in the play that does not seem to be true. Of course because I am reading this through a twenty-first century lens that idea that was just expressed bothers me and make some dislike Iago even more for the play has become nothing but a puppet show. He is a coward hiding his true intent.

We need to talk about Malvolio.

This was my first time reading Twelfth Night–never studied it in school, never read it on my own, never even seen She’s the Man. But I knew a little bit about it: lots of gender-bending, lots of “-io” and “-ia” names, multiple crossdressing-induced love polygons–all good stuff. Having finished it, I have to say that it is, indeed, a masterwork. It’s an exhaustive exploration of multiple meanings–of layers of significance that, rather than confirming or contradicting each other, complicate the whole, and create something that becomes more than the sum of its parts while still carrying the weight of each and every one of them. I wouldn’t think of disputing that. But through the majority of twists and turns, costume changes, and whip-smart wordplay, I was distracted by one question:

“What did Malvolio even do, anyway?”

Because for the majority of Twelfth Night, Olivia’s faithful steward is being brutally punished for some vague sin via the machinations of Maria, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, Fabian, and Feste. Apparently, one-third of all the named characters in the play believe that, not only has Malvolio wronged them, seemingly by virtue of his very being, but that they themselves should be the ones to dispense justice in his case. Maria’s letter itself would be a cruel enough trick to play on Malvolio; she taps into his deepest desires–for Olivia, and for social advancement–so that he’ll make a fool of himself with respect to both ambitions. But Maria isn’t content with that end alone; she scales up the level of public disgrace, building him up so he can fall all the harder–and for all eyes to see.

So, knowing the outcome as we do, let’s pull back a bit. What are these self-styled judges reacting to in the first place? What is Malvolio’s great transgression, his “vice” (2.3.140)? Arrogance, supposedly. As Maria says, he is “a kind of puritan,”  but really nothing “but a time-pleaser, and affectioned ass that cons state without book and utters it by great swaths. The best persuaded of himself—so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies—that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on him love him” (2.3.136-140). As Olivia says in his first scene, he’s “sick of self-love…and taste[s] with a distempered appetite” (1.5.82-83). Essentially, he takes himself too seriously, which sours his opinion of some of the things those around him take delight in. He has little use for fools like Feste or drunkards like Toby. He’s condescending, self-important, punching above his weight. Sure, that’s annoying.

But there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of some ancient grudge he bears them, or even anything but courtesy in the way he approaches them in the course of his duties as Olivia’s steward. It’s only after Olivia prompts him that he expresses his distaste for fools (1.5.65), and his only textual rebuke to Maria, Andrew, and Toby before his imprisonment is a fairly diplomatic, if peeved, response to their drunken revelry, which he had been sent by his mistress to address (2.3.81). It’s a thin case. His real offense is having the audacity to entertain the fantasy of upward mobility, of being in love and advancing his social position–a fantasy that Maria & Co. then went out of their way to make him think was becoming a reality. What a jerk.

His dream that he acts out in 2.5 before finding the letter, and while assuming he was alone, doesn’t involve any grand plotting or, really, any trace of malice. He doesn’t even have designs on Olivia’s heart; he’s honestly confused about Olivia’s feelings for him–this is confusion that, it should be noted, is also partially due to Maria’s actions: “Maria once told me [Olivia] did affect me” (2.5.20-21). Even in his fantasies, where he could have anything his heart desires, what’s the harshest action he takes toward those who want so badly to undo him? Commanding Toby to “amend [his] drunkenness”, and advising him to not “waste [his] time with a foolish knight…One Sir Andrew” (2.5.65, 68-69). Considering that these are the same people who mocked him two scenes ago for his lowly position as steward, Toby himself telling him to “rub [his] chain with crumbs,” and that he’s speaking only to himself, I think he let them off pretty easy, frankly (2.3.110-111).

[Obligatory statement that I’m not actually going to talk about his torture here, or even the implications of his “madness,” because there’s Too Much To Say and I’ve already gone on too long.]

He dreams of wealth, power, and love. We judge him primarily on one unguarded moment that, had the play been following him as its protagonist, would likely have been framed as an uplifting scene that provides insight into the heart of a character who is otherwise quite closed-off. So he’s not fun. He’s not cool. He’s not content with his station, the duties of which he nevertheless performs without fail. He has a crush on his mistress. He has lofty ambitions. Is that so bad? In a lot of ways, he’s the most realistic character in the play; I think it’s safe to say that those qualities are somewhat more relatable than the complications that come with being a shipwrecked woman disguised as a man and mistaken for your dead-but-not-dead brother by his friend-but-not-quite-lover while being secretly in love with a Duke who’s openly in love with a Countess who falls in love with you and marries your brother. But hey, who knows. Maybe I’m mad.

Twelfth Night, like most of Shakespeare’s comedies, uses identity confusion to pose questions about reality. Subjective reality is explored extensively in this play. Just like the clothes used for disguises, language is in disarray. As we discussed in class, language is chaotic. Feste says, “Words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them” (1944). All throughout the play, we see that language is corruptible due to subjective reasoning. And Feste continues, saying, he is not Olivia’s fool, “but her corruptor of words” (3.1.31). As the fool, Feste often speaks in abstractions. When talking to Antonio, who he thinks is Cesario, Feste humorously says, “Nothing that is so, is so,” clearly stating the device of confusion that propels the play (4.1.7). The chaos that flows from language and subjective reasoning leads straight to madness.

From the outset of the play, subjective reasoning is displayed in the characters interpersonal conflicts. Orsino cannot understand why Olivia wants nothing to do with any suitors, specifically his well-endowed self. Twelfth Night is, of course, about love and displays “more midsummer madness” in this way. Lying around and doing whatever Dukes do, Orsino ruminates his love and says, “So full of shapes is fancy / That it alone is high fantastical” (1.1.14-15). Accordingly, Malvolio demonstrates the “high fantastical” effects of love when he reads the wittingly vague love letter written by Maria. Malvolio’s hysterical love soliloquy in act two is one of the longest in the play. Consumed by his desire for power and love (no more than any other character in the play), he fills in the blanks that Maria so wittingly left in the letter. Similarly, Olivia, consumed in her desires, experiences the “high fantastical” effects of love as she tries to woo Viola. As Olivia’s wooing increases, Viola becomes more and more eager to find some resolve in her identity: “I am not what I am” (3.1.132). To this, Olivia displays the most intense “high fantastical” effect of love, saying, “I would you were as I would have you be” (3.1.133). Olivia mirrors Orsino at the beginning of the play, saying one of the most awfully selfish things in the play. Olivia continues to see Viola’s plainly deflective words as a silly game of hard to get. Solipsistic love takes possession of them all.

In act four, madness is defined by subjective reasoning. Feste disguises himself as Sir Topas the curate to visit Malvolio in his prison. A curate is an ecclesiastic (a priest or member of the clergy) who is commended to the souls of the people. And, as the footnote says, the mineral topaz “was thought to have special curative qualities for insanity” (1959). Ironically, Feste goes to convince Malvolio that he is mad. Several times, Malvolio says “there was never a man so notoriously abused” or “never was man thus wronged” (1960). Olivia also repeats this phrase at the end of the play. Malvolio was abused. He is no more self-important than the rest of the characters. His imperious attitude over the servants is hardly a crime. Maria, Feste and the others manipulated him by the passion of his desires, the “high fantasticals.” Shakespeare garners sympathy for Malvolio in order to call attention to Feste’s statement: “I’ll ne’er believe a madman till I see his brains.” Before Feste believes a madman—a person with beliefs that are foreign and conflicting to his—he must see his reasoning. Madness, therefore, is an illusion of subjective reality. Malvolio isn’t mad. The “high fantasticals” took possession of his just like it did the others, but his were exploited by Maria and the others.

By this definition, art can be seen as a form of madness, an explication of ones reality.