William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, or What You Will, stands as one of his most beloved comedies, frequently categorized as a romantic comedy. This classification is undeniably apt, given its intricate love triangles, witty banter, mistaken identities leading to hilarious confusion, and the eventual resolution of all romantic entanglements in a series of joyful marriages. The play adheres to many conventions of the genre, offering audiences a journey through the often-farcical landscape of desire, ultimately culminating in a celebratory conclusion characteristic of comedic drama.
However, to label Twelfth Night as only a romantic comedy would be to significantly understate its thematic depth and the nuanced complexities that elevate it far beyond mere lighthearted entertainment. Beneath the surface of celebratory revelry and romantic pursuit, Shakespeare weaves in profound explorations of identity, gender fluidity, the nature of madness, the harsh realities of social hierarchy, and even moments of genuine cruelty and melancholy. These elements challenge the simplistic categorization of the play, inviting a deeper consideration of its capacity to explore the human condition with both effervescence and poignant introspection.
The Quintessential Romantic Comedy
At its heart, Twelfth Night undeniably functions as a sophisticated romantic comedy, meticulously crafting an environment where love is both the primary motivator and the ultimate reward. The play initiates with the quintessential romantic melancholia of Duke Orsino, who laments his unrequited love for the Countess Olivia, expressing his yearning with an iconic opening line: “If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken, and so die.” (Act I, Scene I, lines 1-3). This dramatic declaration sets the stage for a world consumed by passion and yearning, a hallmark of romantic comedy where characters are driven by the pursuit of affection.
The central comedic device, and indeed the engine of the romantic plot, is the disguise adopted by Viola. Shipwrecked and believing her brother Sebastian lost, Viola bravely chooses to “Conceal me what I am, and be my aid / For such disguise as haply shall become / The form of my intent.” (Act I, Scene II, lines 53-55), transforming herself into the eunuch Cesario to serve Orsino. This disguise immediately ignites a series of romantic complications: Viola (as Cesario) falls deeply in love with Orsino, while Orsino, ironically, uses “Cesario” as his messenger to woo Olivia. The comedic brilliance then truly sparks when Olivia, rejecting Orsino’s advances, falls instantly and passionately in love with the disguised Viola, mistaking “him” for a man: “Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections / With an invisible and subtle stealth / To creep in at mine eyes.” (Act I, Scene V, lines 294-296). This creates a classic love triangle – Orsino loves Olivia, Olivia loves Cesario, and Cesario loves Orsino – providing ample fodder for humorous misunderstandings, awkward encounters, and the escalating tension inherent in unrequited love.
The humor in Twelfth Night extends beyond situational irony, encompassing a rich tapestry of wit, wordplay, and character-driven comedy. Feste, the professional fool, exemplifies the play’s intellectual wit, often demonstrating more insight than the nobles he serves. His banter with Olivia, such as his assertion that she is “a dry fool” (Act I, Scene V, line 43) for mourning her brother, showcases his sharp intelligence and ability to deflate pomposity. Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek provide a more earthy, often drunken, brand of comedy, embodying revelry and foolishness. Toby’s famous line, “Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” (Act II, Scene III, lines 114-115), perfectly encapsulates his hedonistic philosophy, contrasting sharply with Malvolio’s puritanical strictness and serving as a humorous defense of merriment. The physical comedy, such as the duel between Viola and Andrew, orchestrated by Toby, further solidifies the play’s comedic credentials, with its emphasis on ludicrous fear and feigned bravery.
Ultimately, the resolution of the play firmly places it within the romantic comedy genre. The arrival of Sebastian, Viola’s identical twin brother, unravels the complex web of mistaken identities, allowing for a swift and convenient resolution. Olivia, believing Sebastian to be Cesario, marries him almost immediately, proclaiming, “Praise, Heaven, and make no question of it, but that you are he and henceforth you are my husband.” (Act IV, Scene I, lines 61-62). This accidental marriage clears the path for Orsino to finally recognize his true feelings for Viola, acknowledging her constancy and declaring, “Your master quits you; and for your service done him, / So much against the mettle of your sex, / So far against the metal of your love, / I know not what to say, or where to begin.” (Act V, Scene I, lines 320-323). The play concludes with two harmonious marriages (Orsino/Viola and Olivia/Sebastian) and the promise of a third (Toby/Maria), fulfilling the traditional comedic trajectory of chaos leading to renewed order and celebratory union. This neatly tied, happy ending, driven by romantic pursuit and culminating in societal harmony, makes a strong case for its romantic comedy classification.
Beyond the Laughter: Deeper Thematic Explorations
Despite its robust adherence to romantic comedy conventions, Twelfth Night transcends this simple categorization through its profound engagement with a spectrum of complex themes, giving it a depth that lingers long after the final curtain. These elements introduce a darker hue, a philosophical inquiry, and a social critique often absent in purely frivolous romantic narratives.
Gender, Identity, and Performance
One of the most striking and progressive aspects of Twelfth Night is its extensive exploration of gender identity and the performative nature of self. Viola’s disguise as Cesario is not merely a plot device for mistaken identity; it becomes a crucible for examining the fluidity of gender and the societal constructions placed upon it. When Viola is disguised as Cesario, Orsino finds a connection with “him” that he never could with Olivia, noting “Diana’s lip / Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe / Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound, / And all is semblative a woman’s part.” (Act I, Scene IV, lines 30-33). Orsino is unwittingly drawn to Viola’s inherent femininity, even as he believes her to be male. This blurs the lines of sexual attraction, suggesting that attraction might lie beyond strict gender binaries.
Viola’s dual identity also forces her into internal conflict and poignant soliloquies that highlight the burdens of disguise. Her famous line, “I am not what I am” (Act III, Scene I, line 147), encapsulates the existential dilemma of her situation, grappling with a public persona that contradicts her private self. This extends to her relationship with Orsino, where she must conceal her true feelings while eloquently articulating her disguised master’s love. Her declaration, “I am all the daughters of my father’s house, / And all the brothers too” (Act II, Scene IV, lines 122-123), hints at her unique position, embodying both male and female roles, and subtly revealing her true gender to the audience while remaining veiled to Orsino. This pervasive exploration of identity, challenged and shaped by clothing, societal expectations, and personal desires, adds a layer of psychological complexity rarely found in a simple romantic comedy. It forces the audience to consider the difference between appearance and reality, and how easily identity can be manipulated or mistaken.
Madness and Folly
The play delves into the nature of madness, both real and perceived, and the thin line separating reason from folly. This theme is most prominently explored through the character of Malvolio. His inflated ego and puritanical disdain for revelry make him the perfect target for the gulling prank orchestrated by Sir Toby, Maria, and Feste. The forged letter, convincing him that Olivia is in love with him and wishes him to “Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity” (Act II, Scene V, lines 152-154), is a catalyst for his perceived madness.
Malvolio’s subsequent humiliation, parading around in yellow stockings and cross-gartered (Act III, Scene IV), is initially presented as broad comedy. However, the prank escalates to a disturbing degree when Malvolio is imprisoned in a dark room, tormented by Feste disguised as Sir Topas, a “curate,” who attempts to convince him he is insane: “Why, what is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?” (Act IV, Scene II, lines 50-51). This descent into psychological torture, far from being purely humorous, borders on cruelty. Malvolio’s desperate plea, “They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits” (Act IV, Scene II, lines 98-100), evokes genuine pathos. His final exit line, “I’ll be revenged on the whole pack of you!” (Act V, Scene I, line 378), carries a palpable sense of bitterness and an unresolved desire for retribution that stands in stark contrast to the celebratory marriages, injecting a discordant note into the festive ending. This darker exploration of mental anguish and the abuse of power complicates the play’s comedic label.
Furthermore, Feste, the professional fool, serves as the play’s moral compass, often articulating truths and insights that the supposedly sane characters overlook. His role as the “wise fool” allows him to comment on the follies of others with impunity, as when he tells Olivia, “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit” (Act I, Scene V, line 35), exposing the absurdity of those who believe themselves wise. Feste’s ability to navigate between sense and nonsense, often appearing the sanest person in a world driven by emotional excess and self-delusion, underscores the play’s broader commentary on human irrationality.
Social Hierarchy and Ambition
The play also subtly critiques social mobility and the rigidity of class structures in Elizabethan society. Malvolio’s ambition to rise above his station is a significant driving force behind his character and the plot against him. His fantasy of becoming “Count Malvolio” and ordering around Sir Toby and others, dreaming of “calling my Lady Olivia’s steward” (Act II, Scene V, lines 74-75), reveals a deep-seated desire for status and power. The prank plays on this ambition, making him believe that his social ascent is imminent and dependent on his adopting “airs” of nobility.
The punishment inflicted upon Malvolio for his ambition can be seen as a reaffirmation of the established social order. His desire to marry Olivia, a noblewoman, is perceived as a dangerous overreach by the established gentry like Sir Toby. The severity of his punishment, leading to psychological torment, suggests a darker societal judgment on those who attempt to transcend their designated place. This aspect adds a layer of social commentary, illustrating the potential dangers and consequences for those who challenge the existing class structure, thus moving beyond a mere comedic portrayal of a pompous servant.
Melancholy and the Transience of Life
Despite its overall celebratory tone, Twelfth Night is permeated by an undercurrent of melancholy and a poignant awareness of life’s transience. Orsino’s initial self-indulgent lovesickness, which he seems to cultivate for its own sake, already hints at a deeper emotional complexity. His dramatic declarations, “O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, / Methought she purged the air of pestilence!” (Act I, Scene I, lines 19-20), border on an affected sadness rather than genuine grief, suggesting a world where emotions are often performed.
More profoundly, Feste’s songs frequently punctuate the merriment with a sense of the fleeting nature of joy and the inevitability of sorrow. His song “O mistress mine, where are you roaming? / O stay and hear; your true love’s coming, / That can sing both high and low: / Trip no further, pretty sweeting; / Journeys end in lovers meeting, / Every wise man’s son doth know.” (Act II, Scene III, lines 40-45) while ostensibly about love, also carries a nostalgic tone, urging enjoyment of the present moment before it passes. The play’s final song, Feste’s “The wind and the rain,” offers a reflective, almost somber epilogue, reminding the audience that “A foolish thing was but a toy, / For the rain it raineth every day.” (Act V, Scene I, lines 403-404). This song’s melancholic acceptance of life’s hardships, acknowledging that the world goes on with its “rain” regardless of individual fortunes, provides a surprisingly bittersweet end to a play so full of laughter and joy, preventing it from being purely lighthearted. It underscores the idea that even amidst festivity, life’s inevitable challenges persist, adding a layer of philosophical reflection that is characteristic of Shakespeare’s mature comedies.
The very title, Twelfth Night, refers to the traditional end of the Christmas season, a time of revelry and inversion of social order, but also a moment when the party ends and reality must be faced. This temporal aspect subtly reinforces the theme of transience; the misrule and freedom are temporary, and order must eventually be restored, bringing with it both joy and the lingering echoes of what was lost or never truly gained.
Conclusion
While Twelfth Night undoubtedly possesses all the effervescent charm, witty repartee, and joyous resolution characteristic of a romantic comedy, to confine it solely to this genre would be to diminish its profound intellectual and emotional scope. Shakespeare masterfully employs the framework of comedic romance to delve into a much richer tapestry of human experience, offering insights into the complex interplay of identity, the deceptive nature of appearance and reality, and the fine line between sanity and madness.
The play’s exploration of gender fluidity through Viola’s disguise, the unsettling cruelty of Malvolio’s gulling, the poignant undercurrent of melancholy found in Feste’s songs, and the subtle critique of social ambition all contribute to a work far more multifaceted than a simple romantic romp. These elements introduce a depth that challenges the audience, inviting contemplation on the human condition, the follies of self-deception, and the often-harsh realities beneath the surface of festivity. It is this masterful blend of light and shadow, laughter and introspection, that secures Twelfth Night‘s enduring place not merely as a romantic comedy, but as one of Shakespeare’s most sophisticated and perennially relevant explorations of what it means to be human.