Twelfth Night

Letters

Somebody forgot to tell the characters in Twelfth Night that it's rude to pass notes in class. Yes, we're aware this joke may not hold the same meaning for you as it does for those of us who experienced junior high without unlimited text-messaging. But seriously, what's up with all the love letters? Duke Orsino makes "Cesario" memorize one so "he" can recite it to Olivia, Maria forges a love note in order to convince Malvolio that Olivia is in love with him, and Malvolio writes one to the Countess when he's imprisoned in the dark room. (OK, that last one is less a love letter than it is a hate note accusing Olivia of being a tease, but you get what we're saying here.)

So what? Well, it seems to us that all of these letters have one thing in common. Aside from their status as messages of love, they're all associated with deception and dishonesty. First, Olivia totally rejects Orsino's love note as a contrived and insincere declaration of passion, and she's absolutely right. Orsino doesn't mean any of it (not about her anyway). The letter Maria forges to trick Malvolio, of course, is completely deceptive, and Malvolio's letter to Olivia is utterly misinformed. Written words, it seems, are just not to be trusted, especially when they're contrived. Hmm. That's an awfully funny message for a wordsmith like Shakespeare to send his audience.

Coins

This one gives theater prop departments everywhere a run for their money (silly pun intended). Seriously, we dare you to count the number of times coins are exchanged in the play, because it seems like everyone is always passing around the scrilla. So, what's up with that? Well, let's think about this in terms of who has money, who hands out money, who loses or doesn't have money.

The first time we see coinage circulating on the stage is when Viola gives the sea captain a few coins for cheering her up about her (possibly dead) brother in Act 1. For Viola, who also gives money to Feste and poor Antonio as he's carted off to jail, money is a symbol of her generous spirit.

For someone like Sir Andrew Aguecheek, who burns through money like there's no tomorrow, excessive spending and the wasting of ducats is a symbol of his foolishness and excess. (Come on. The guy's got to write home for more money before we're halfway through the play.)

For Antonio, who gives Sebastian his purse (don't laugh, every guy had one back then), money seems to represent Antonio's willingness to give himself (in friendship, love, etc.) to Sebastian, who thinks nothing of taking it but gives nothing back in return. This is made even more apparent when Antonio is carted off to jail and desperately needs his cash to buy his way out of the jam. Meanwhile, Sebastian is off spending Antonio's money and hooking up with Olivia.

We know what you're thinking: what about Feste? Someone is always giving that guy money in the play. You're right. Feste is a professional performer who works hard for his money. (Unlike Sir Toby, who sponges off everyone else.) Feste's really clever (a bit of a con man, actually) when it comes to getting people to empty their pockets for a few jokes. At other times, Feste is paid to run errands, which reduces him to the status of a menial servant. In these moments, the exchange of coins between Feste and the upper-class characters seems to highlight the class difference between "lowly" entertainers and those with power and wealth.

Jewels

There's a lot of bling going around in Twelfth Night. Come to think of it, Olivia's the one who seems to be always handing it out. First, she gives a ring to "Cesario" (which is a secret signal that Olivia's has a crush on "him"). Then, she gives "Cesario" a miniature (a piece of jewelry with Olivia's tiny portrait on it). Duke Orsino also gives "Cesario" a jewel to pass along to Olivia. In these cases, the unwanted trinkets are emblematic of the giver's love, which is ultimately rejected.

Finally, though, when Olivia gives a pearl to Sebastian, Sebastian is pleased as punch, a pretty clear signal that he loves Olivia back. Too bad Olivia thinks she's given "Cesario" the pearl. By this time, love trinkets seem to have lost all meaning because everybody's just giving the stuff away like nothing. Rather than being a cherished symbol, jewels and hearts (the metaphorical kind, not the ones beating in our chests) become just another thing to be given carelessly and foolishly.

Malvolio's fantasy of fondling "some rich jewel" is a bit different. For Malvolio, a servant who desperately wants to marry up so he can boss people around, jewels signify power, not love. Consider this passage where Malvolio daydreams about what it would be like to have more authority than Sir Toby if he married the Countess Olivia:

Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make
out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind
up watch, or play with my – some rich jewel. Toby
approaches; courtesies there to me, – (2.5.7)

Here, Malvolio is about to say that he would act disinterested in Toby by "play[ing]" with his steward's chain (a chain worn by stewards to signify their status as head servant) while Toby bows before him. (We know that Malvolio walks around fondling his steward's chain because Sir Toby tells him to "go rub" it with "crumbs" in Act 2, Scene 3. You can read more about this quote under the theme of "Society and Class.") But, in his fantasy, Malvolio quickly corrects himself – if he was married to Olivia, he wouldn't be wearing a menial steward's chain. So, Malvolio replaces the chain with "some rich jewel," a much more appropriate symbol of his status in this fantasy. Of course, the text also implies that Malvolio's constant "rub[bing]" and "play[ing]" with his chain and the make-believe jewel suggests that Malvolio is more excited about power more than anything else.

Costume (Malvolio's Crazy Get-Up and Viola's Disguise)

Poor Malvolio. When he decides to wear a crazy get-up that involves yellow stockings (hosiery for men) with cross-garters, his silly costume becomes a glaring symbol of his social ambition and foolish desire for power. His yellow stockings are a lot like the "rich jewel" he fantasizes about stroking in Act 2, Scene 5 (see "Jewels" above). Huh? Let us explain.

Malvolio, as we know, is duped into wearing the completely inappropriate and unfashionable duds when he reads Maria's forged letter. The letter tricks Malvolio into believing that Olivia likes yellow stockings and that, by wearing them, Malvolio will be able to win Olivia's hand in marriage, which would launch Malvolio from servant to nobleman. When Malvolio turns up in his silly outfit, Olivia thinks he's gone crazy. It also doesn't help that Malvolio is smiling like a loon and slobbering all over Olivia's hand, which the letter also instructed him to do. The point is that Malvolio is Olivia's servant and, according to Elizabethan attitudes about class and social rank, Malvolio would have to be crazy to think he had a chance with her.

History Snack: There were actually rules (called "Sumptuary Laws") that governed choices in dress. One of our favorite literary critics, Lisa Jardine, shows that fabric, color, and style of costume were all symbols meant to distinguish and separate gender and class identities. It was a big no-no to wear something inappropriate to your social rank. That goes for wannabes like Malvolio and cross-dressers like Viola.

It's funny, though, that Viola's cross-dressing is not punished. Her temporary disguise as "Cesario" actually helps her land a husband. It's also responsible for Olivia's marriage to Sebastian and the play's overall "happy ending." Perhaps this is because Viola is not a social climber like Malvolio. As Duke Orsino points out in Act 5, Scene 1, Viola's "blood" is "right noble."

Still, there's more to say about Viola's "Cesario" disguise. The fact that Viola is so convincing as a pretty boy servant tells us that gender and class identity can be impersonated and performed. (It happened just about every day on the Elizabethan stage, after all.) While Malvolio's inappropriate costume change is unsuccessful, Shakespeare goes out of his way to leave Viola on stage at the play's end in her male attire. Check out "What's Up with the Ending?" for more on this.

Dark Room

After Maria, Toby, and their crew trick Malvolio into thinking Olivia loves him and wants him to behave foolishly, they lock him in a dark room and hold him prisoner. (They get away with it because Malvolio's behavior leads Olivia to believe he's insane and possessed by demons.) Once Malvolio's bound in the dark room, Feste pretends the room is as bright as day and says Malvolio's "mad" or "ignorant" if he believes the room is dark. Darkness, then, becomes synonymous with Malvolio's supposed insanity.

Of course, the dark room is only temporary. Malvolio is eventually released and let out into the "light," where he learns the truth about the phony letter and Olivia's true feelings. It's important to note that Malvolio's revelation comes immediately after Viola and Sebastian come face to face and Viola reveals her identity. This seems to invite the audience to see Viola's "Cesario" disguise as a kind of darkness that covers the truth throughout the play.

Insanity

Characters are always accusing others of being crazy. "You're a lunatic!" "No, you're a nutcase!" and so forth. Madness or insanity is mostly code for wacky, silly, or zany, which is exactly how one can describe the hard partying of Toby and Aguecheek, the elaborate prank Maria devises to punish Malvolio, and the various misguided pursuits of love in Twelfth Night. We discuss this in more detail under "Foolishness and Folly," so be sure to check that out.

Fluids

Like many other Shakespeare plays (The Comedy of Errors, Pericles, etc.), Twelfth Night is full of images and allusions to the sea. It's the place where the twins, Viola and Sebastian, are literally separated when their ship "splits" and sinks, which is the driving force of the plot. While the ocean is a wide and dangerous place where families can be destroyed and lives can be lost, the play offers a hopeful point of view. In one of the first vivid allusions to the ocean, the sea captain offers a stunning image:

I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself,
Courage and hope both teaching him the practise,
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
So long as I could see. (1.2.3)

In this vivid description of Sebastian's elegance and bravery in the face of a pretty harrowing experience, the ocean becomes a "sink or swim" metaphor for life. In tough situations, one can either drown or ride out stormy moments with the ease of "Arion" moving through "waves" on a "dolphin's back." (Did that just come from the mouth of a sailor? You see, this is why we love Shakespeare. Instead of cursing, this sailor sounds like an eloquent handbook for life's difficult moments.)

Before we get too sentimental, we have to acknowledge some other, less gorgeous allusions to the ocean. In Act 1, Scene 1, Valentine calls Olivia's tears (shed for her dead brother) "eye offending brine." Brine, of course, is a salty fluid that's synonymous with tears and, you guessed it, the ocean. Here's the gross part. Valentine also says that Olivia's salty tears keep her dead brother's memory alive and "fresh," which sort of creates an image of Olivia preserving or, pickling her dead brother.

So, you're probably wondering how you can connect the play's representation of the ocean to food imagery. Here's an idea. Why not think about the way Duke Orsino compares his appetite for love to the ocean? When Orsino claims that women aren't capable of passion, he says that his love "is all as hungry as the sea, / And can digest as much" (2.4.16). Here, the ocean becomes a simile for the Duke's voracious and insatiable erotic "appetite." This is funny and also a little scary – we get the sense that Orsino's passion could swallow a person whole.

Food

Food shows up everywhere in Twelfth Night, so we've broken it down into a couple of categories below. (Be sure to check out the relationship between "Food" and "Fluids" above.)

When Malvolio criticizes Sir Toby Belch and company for their partying ways and lack of propriety Toby asks "Dost thou think, because thou art / virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?" (2.3.17). In other words, Toby and his pals aren't about to change their ways just because Malvolio disapproves. "Cakes and ale" were popular treats associated with Carnival-like festivities such as Twelfth Night. In the play, they become a symbol of the festival atmosphere and bodily excess.

You've probably already guessed that Toby's "cakes and ale" are related to other food imagery in the play. In the opening scene, for example, Duke Orsino calls for more music, which he refers to as "food" that fuels his excessive appetite for "love." Orsino's gluttonous addiction to "love," then, is linked to Toby's partying, which involves lots and lots of eating and drinking. Both the Duke and Toby are bingers and, while the play is all for fun and love, it seems to warn against over-indulgence.