At the end of Greenblatt’s essay, I was particularly interested in the emphasis he places on the role of Shakespeare’s comedies. He writes, “for Shakespeare friction is specifically associated with verbal wit; indeed at moments the plays seem to imply that erotic friction originates in the wantonness of language, and thus that the body itself is a tissue of metaphors or, conversely, that language is perfectly embodied” (89). All of these elements–minus the physical re-enactment on stage with real bodies–also seem present in Shakespeare’s sonnets, which I would argue are riddled with the same verbal wit. In a similar manner, the verbal wit in the sonnets also seems encoded in physical descriptions of the beloved or with gender (master-mistress). Specifically in this manner relating to verbal wit, I am wondering what differentiates comedy from the sonnet? Is the actual theatrical element of the comedy very important? Does the comedy allow more easily/readily for parody or social criticism?

Greenblatt discusses how the revelation that Viola and Sebastian come from a noble family solves the issue of socially-mismatched couples so that social order is restored in end. Indeed, Malvolio, who sought to rise in the ranks by marrying Olivia, is cast aside and his aspirations ignored and refused. But Sir Toby and Maria marry even though the former is a nobleman and the latter, a servant. Even then, their marriage is only briefly touched upon when Fabian mentions it during his explanation of the Malvolio prank. Is their marriage acceptable because it’s not one of the main couples, or because Sir Toby does not behave like a noble, or because Maria somehow rises in status through her wit? It seems to me this marriage is the only one in which the two characters actually know each other for who they are, and it is the one that does not neatly fit into the social standards of the time.

Natalie I think you are raising an important point here. To me, the love Antonio expresses for Sebastian seems to me to be acceptable based on class-differences that appear throughout the play. Antonio as a person of a lower class than Sebastian adores him and the love of a servant for his master seems to be more acceptable. For example, nobody really questions Cesario’s love for Orsino because this is also a master-servant relationship.

One of the things that stuck out to me from Greenblatt’s article was his idea that most of the transformations and exchanges in Twelfth Night show how “men love women precisely as representations, a love the original performances of these plays literalized in the person of the boy actor” (93). With the Globe performance of Twelfth Night, we got a sense of how Renaissance theater used the body as a way to both reveal and trouble gender and sexuality; how women “pass through the state of being men in order to become women…. Shakespearean women are in this sense the representation of Shakespearean men” (92).  In order for a woman to really be a woman, she must have first been “legitimized” as a man.

Hi Rachel,

I thought your point about this word was really interesting, especially considering the role that the physical elements (the weather/natural forces) play in Twelfth Night; a storm is the catalyst for the plot, when Viola and Sebastian are stranded, while Feste concludes the play with a song about “the wind and the rain.” Fittingly with the consciously-theatrical nature of this play, Feste references how “A great while ago the world begun, / With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,” — reminding the audience that the world of Twelfth Night began with a storm. I’m curious about the connection between performance/disguising your “element” and the natural elements, or if there is even one?

In his piece “Fiction and Friction,” Greenblatt mentions Antonio’s passion for Sebastian in passing several times, but he does not spend a particularly long time dwelling on this relationship – arguably the most explicit example of homosexual desire in Twelfth Night. I find it interesting that Antonio is so bold as to declare his love for Sebastian in no uncertain terms, not only to Sebastian himself but also to others – including officers who have come to arrest him for other crimes – especially considering the sentences imposed on Marin le Marcis and his lover during the same time period. In view of the fact that le Marcis and le Febvre were condemned to horrible punishments and grisly deaths for engaging in homosexual behavior, how can Antonio so brazenly declare his homosexual love in such public spaces? Is it a sex-based determination, since le Marcis and le Febvre were both women and Antonio and Sebastian are both men? As Greenblatt points out, Shakespeare frequently makes self-reflexive references to the fact that all female parts in his comedies were being played by men, but Antonio’s love is not an object of levity or humor but one of serious passion, and he is ultimately “left out in the cold” but not threatened with bodily harm (Greenblatt 93). I find it difficult to reconcile such differing reactions to the presence of homosexual love and relations in Elizabethan England. Any ideas?

I am curious about the word “element” that appears so many times throughout the play. For example, the Fool particularly calls attention to this word in 3.1 where he says “who you are and what you would are out of my welkin–I might say ‘element,’ but the word is overworn” (3.1.56-58). My guess is that this has to do with people’s internal natures and the fact that it is so difficult to see a person’s actual “element” throughout the play–the gender bending but also the numerous other disguises people take on throughout the scenes.

Hi Tully!

I was also interested in the origins of the quote “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some / have greatness thrust upon ’em” (2.5.136-37). I have only ever heard this quote being used in the utmost sincerity, so it was interesting to learn that it’s original context was as a practical joke. These lines are an inflation of Malvolio’s dreams and desires, not something that Marie actually believes. The underlying humor of these lines are further emphasized when Malvolio repeats them to Olivia with pompous sincerity and (in the production at least) emphasis on the sexuality of the lines (3.4). All of this is to say that I was surprised that these lines were originally intended ironically, given how they now stand as inspiration for class mobility.

Somewhat in relation to the discussion we had about interpretation and reading in Twelfth Night, I’ve been thinking about how Shakespeare’s characters’ use of borrowed language so often causes confusion in the interwoven plot-lines.

For example, when Sir Andrew eavesdrops on Viola and Olivia’s conversation in Act III Scene I, he hears Viola’s eloquent, romantic diction and says to Sir Toby, “‘Odors,’ ‘pregnant,’ and ‘vouchsafed’ – I’ll get ’em all three all ready” (NA 1076). The anthology’s footnote tells us that he means to “commit” these words “to memory for later use” (NA 1076). However, being the dolt that he is, Sir Andrew has no idea what these words actually mean, so any “later use” of them will probably be out of context and nonsensical.

Additionally, in Act III Scene IV, Malvolio quotes what he believes to be Olivia’s letter back to her, thinking she will recognize her own words, but she interprets his speech not as quotations but as statements directed toward her, which confuses her so much that she declares, “Why, this is very midsummer madness” (NA 1083).

What do these examples tell us about the Puritans’, and humans’ in general, penchant for borrowing language to serve their own ends, religious and otherwise? How does the interpretation – or literalization – of these words affect conversations and relationships? What arguments might Shakespeare be making about originality and authenticity?

I was also struck by how much of the play contained elements of the Fair Youth sequence of sonnets, not just in terms of the sonnets imploring the Fair Youth to bear children. Critics have argued about the nature of the relationship between the sonnets’ speaker and the Fair Youth, for in some it seems more platonic and in others (such as Sonnet 18) it is more explicitly romantic.Throughout the Globe production, the relationship between Duke Orsino and Caesario toes the line between platonic friendship and sexual romance. Orsino is drawn to Caesario, touched by the youth’s effeminate beauty, and in Act 2, Scene 4 of the production, he creates a physical intimacy with Caesario while listening to Feste’s song. This scene reminded me of Sonnet 20 in which the speaker laments that the Fair Youth is not a woman, an idea that is also reflected in Viola’s hinting at her love for the Duke in the same scene. I am curious as to how the intimacy enacted on the stage would have been received by the audience’s of Shakespeare’s time.