As You Like It Transformation

Both of Rosalind's transformations are made out of need—she needs to leave the comfort of the court, and she must dress as a man to protect Celia and herself on their travels to Arden. Celia's transformation, by contrast, is entirely of her own choosing. She chooses to be alienated from her home, and later claims that she goes not to banishment, but liberation. It is clear Celia does not take this as seriously as Rosalind.

Rosalind transforms into a man by disguising her height with manly accessories, yet it is likely she will look the same. This transformation is not one of just outward appearances; Rosalind changes her persona.

Jaques' famous speech suggests that our lives are nothing more than a series of transformations: 1) puking infant; 2) whining school boy; 3) young, sighing lover; 4) soldier; 5) "justice" or upstanding leader; 6) silly old man who thinks he's still young ("pantaloon"); 7) super-old man, toothless, blind, and as helpless as a baby. Is this an accurate or even useful way to sum up human life?

According to Jaques, love transforms us all into "fools."   

Touchstone suggests that, as soon as a man is married, he is transformed into a beast with "horns" on his "forehead" (a.k.a. a cuckold, or a man who has been cheated on by his wife). As unfair and sexist as it is, this idea is pretty common in Shakespearean drama. In fact, our favorite Danish Prince says something similar about his ex-girlfriend in Hamlet. Check it out:

Or, if thou wilt needs
marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough
what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,
and quickly too. Farewell. (3.1.11)

Like Touchstone, Hamlet suggests that women turn their husbands into "monster[s]," or cuckolds (cuckolds were thought to have horns like monsters) because wives inevitably cheat. For more on cuckoldry in As You Like It, check out "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory."

Hmm. This is a mighty convenient time for Oliver to undergo a transformation. Gee. We wonder if it has something to do with the fact that Oliver's life was just saved by Orlando. Here, Oliver confesses that he's no longer the same guy he was before. (The one who tried to have his little bro killed... twice.) Nevertheless, Oliver does seem to have experienced a "conversion" after entering Arden.  

This is interesting. The melancholy Jaques is virtually the only character who doesn't change. What's up with that?

This news confirms something we already know—the Forest of Arden is capable of "convert[ing]" any person who steps foot in the woods. In Duke Frederick's case, merely entering the edge or "skirts of this wild wood" coincides with a sudden and miraculous transformation. After talking with some random "religious man," Frederick changes his evil ways and gives his dukedom back to his brother. What's even more interesting is the fact that Duke Frederick's conversion mirrors bad-brother Oliver's sudden transformation (see Quote #6).  

Rosalind has removed her "Ganymede" disguise and is now ready to marry Orlando. Still, we have to wonder: Is Rosalind's transformation from "Ganymede" back to Rosalind a change for the better? It seems like she's now undergone the obvious transformation from a young man to a marriageable woman. The more potent transition, though, is her change from the state of freedom to some tied-down-relationships. Throughout the entire play, Rosalind has been a fairly independent woman, managing on her own with Celia. This very formal "giving over" of herself to husband and father seems like a transformation—maybe even a reversion—of the lively, strong-willed, whip-tongued Rosalind we have come to know in the forest.

Duke Frederick's conversion has a major social impact. When he returns the dukedom to his older brother, Frederick makes it possible for Duke Senior, Rosalind, and Orlando to return to court, where they will (presumably) transform the once-treacherous court into a more civilized place.