**The Original Rom-Com: A Deeper Look at Shakespeare's Twelfth Night**

Twelfth Night is a play that has intrigued audiences for centuries. There are two main reasons I gave this play a high rating, and one of them is Sir Toby Belch. This character, a rude, crude, and perpetually drunk individual, is a classic. Along with his comrades in arms like Maria, Sir Andrew, Fabian, and the clown Feste (brilliantly played by Ben Kingsley in the Trevor Nunn movie), they form a major plot that makes one shake their head at the sordid episode.

Initially, I felt sympathy for poor Malvolio. He was just doing what a faithful servant was expected to do. But when he believes a random letter on the ground, written by his mistress, is legitimate, one has to question his sense of reality. He gets so caught up in this falsified sense of love that he loses all touch with reality. Maybe when people accuse him of being mad, he really is.

Before delving into the cross-gender/androginous aspect, I want to comment on a saying from the play. "Some are born great; some achieve greatness; and some have greatness thrust upon them." This line appears several times, which is odd considering Samuel Pepys described the play as "silly" and others thought it was written when Shakespeare was overconfident. I can't help but apply this line to famous Christian characters. In the Bible, they were either born great like Jesus Christ or had greatness thrust upon them like Moses and King David. Maybe Solomon achieved greatness through his wisdom.

The cross-dressing aspect in the play has been much discussed. While the idea that love can transcend gender has a point, it's not necessarily the romantic love we understand. Shakespeare is not supporting homosexual love as the main characters who marry are heterosexual. In Shakespearean plays, cross-dressing is always one way, with the woman disguising as a man. This was important in Elizabethan England with a female monarch. It was about empowerment and sometimes protection for women. When Viola gets into a fight, she can't handle herself and is saved by Antonio. I won't comment on As You Like It here as I'm not as familiar with it as The Merchant of Venice. In Merchant of Venice, the cross-dressing is about a woman using her superior intellect to save the one she loves. It's not about destroying the gender cage but exposing inequality. Queen Elizabeth proved that sex had nothing to do with one's ability to perform a job. For those interested, I've written a blog post on the play, though my view there is different, seeing it as a soppy romance.

Conclusion

Twelfth Night is a complex and fascinating play that offers much to explore in terms of characters, themes, and social commentary. It continues to captivate audiences and scholars alike, and its enduring popularity is a testament to Shakespeare's genius.

For a long time, I had a distinct preference for Shakespeare's tragedies over his comedies, and to some extent, that inclination still lingers. However, I have recently discovered a newfound appreciation for his comedies, especially in "Twelfth Night". This play is a remarkable work that is both economical and unforced, hilarious and humane, confined and yet infinite, clever and accessible. It tells the story of the shipwrecked twins, Viola (disguised as the boy Cesario) and Sebastian, in Illyria. Here, the hilarity of mistaken identity, unwanted love, and unrequited love are all turned on their heads and lead to a comedic reveal and reversal. Viola loves Orsino, who loves Olivia, who loves Viola (mistaking her for Cesario), and then marries Sebastian, thinking he is Viola. This tangled web of comedy in the final two acts is masterfully crafted, and the sideplot trick on the proud Malvolio is a misjustice served sweetly.

What strikes me in Shakespeare's works is the commonalities among his plays, even down to the very tautology: "I am what I am". I suspect this phrase is uttered in some permutation in all, or nearly all, of his plays, as it delves into the truth of identity and what it means to be "what you are". I was particularly struck by Viola's final assertion in this comedic exchange:

OLIVIA

Stay:

I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.

VIOLA

That you do think you are not what you are.

OLIVIA

If I think so, I think the same of you.

VIOLA

Then think you right: I am not what I am.

"I am not what I am" - the very line that is the key to the character of Iago in "Othello" quoted verbatim for the ends of comedy. When Iago says this line, he means that he is a trickster, someone who deceives and betrays those who trust in his outward appearance of honesty. However, when Viola exclaims the same words, she means that she is literally not as she appears, as her outward appearance of a boy is just a disguise.
Can anyone truly say "I am what I am", or conversely claim the opposite, without some irony or self-awareness that reverses the very claim? I am what I am only insofar as I am aware of it myself, and only to myself can I be thus. To an acquaintance, I may be something completely unfamiliar to my own perceptions of myself, as my identity is shaped by his/her desires, expectations, and prejudices of me. So, am I entirely what I am, or what I am not? The question of identity, what it means to be your true Self, is a common thread that traces its origin to the pre-Shakespearean era and continues through the consciousness of our modern times. It is a question that remains unresolved. It can lead to both tragic and malicious ends, or result in comedic bemusement. Unlike in the literal masquerade of false identity in "Much Ado About Nothing", the masks in "Twelfth Night" are true faces, disguised but essentially true. In loving Viola and professing her love, Olivia reveals her masculinity and boldness, as well as her Narcissism for liking what is literally closer to her self than any man. Although the play ends in a double marriage and a union of Orsino and Olivia through the mutual relation of their spouses, one can't help but wonder about the happiness of Olivia with Sebastian, a man she scarcely knows. Does she only love him for his appearance, which he shares with his sister's disguise? Or is there something more at the heart of it? While Viola truly loves Orsino as he is, even in his love for someone else, Olivia's love for Sebastian is never proven, only transferred. Despite the high comedy of the play and the interplay of identities, doubles, and disguises, there is a subtle question about the nature of the play that follows the play, the unwritten play, wherein the full effects of mistaken identity may play out to tragic or yet comedic ends.

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Additional thoughts on "Twelfth Night":
If Denmark is a prison, Illyria is a madhouse. The distinct flavor of pure comedy in "Twelfth Night" is a direct result of the zaniness of all the characters, save the fool! Shakespeare's "most perfect comedy" achieves such a status through his parodies of his own devices: turning upside-down his own ploy of mistaken identity and criss-crossed loves explored in previous romantic comedies and taking them to hilarious extremes. Illyria is a dukedom haunted by strange phantoms, men and women of such peculiar extremes as to parody themselves.
Take the Duke, Orsino, for example. Despite his surety of his infinite love for Olivia, he seems more in love with himself, or rather in love with being in love. How quickly he can transfer his love for Olivia to Viola, as if it were a matter of rearranging the letters in her name. Olivia too is an oddity. Originally racked with grief and swearing off men completely, she is apparently fallen in love at first sight with the first boy she meets. Her boldness may surpass that of some of Shakespeare's bolder heroines, though her bold pursuits are in favor of so ridiculous a prize.
But the oddest man, or rather perhaps the least odd (besides the fool, who remains the only sure-headed man in the chaos of Illyria), is Malvolio. He feels very much at odds with his surroundings and would likely be much happier in almost any other play. In the pace of the play, we find Malvolio a fun butt for the deft prankster Maria. However, on second glance, his fate is undeserved and almost cruel. Like Orsino, he is a parody of himself, but he has an almost infinite creative imagination of himself: "Count Malvolio!" Surely his pride and egoism border on solipsism, but he remains one of "Twelfth Night"'s great tragicomedic masterpieces. He at once deserves our pity and our jibes, though he is a man "greater sinn'd against than sinning" - to quote Lear's self-styled betrayal by fate. He is an involuntary fool, gulled into a role that he holds beneath his station even as steward, and is locked in the dark cellar as his punishment, a fitting end for a man otherwise locked in the blinding brightness of his own imagination.