Twelfth Night is a William Shakespeare’s comedy that is believed to have been written 1600-02 as an entertainment for the twelfth night for the Christmas season’s closure. The play is centred on the twins Sebastian and Viola, who part ways in a shipwreck incident. Viola (who is disguised as a boy in the play) is interested with and falls in love with Duke Orsino, but Duke is in love with Countless Olivia. Upon meeting Viola, Countess Olivia mistakes her for a man and in turn falls in love with her. The play expanded on the riotous disorder and musical interludes expected of the occasion, with elements of the plot being obtained from the “Apollonius and Silla” short story by Barnabe Rich, which was initially based on Matteo bandle lo's story. The first performance was recorded on 2nd February 1602, at Christmas tide's formal end in the year’s calendar. The play was not published earlier than its inclusion in the 1623 first folio.
The synopsis of the twelfth night
Viola is shipwrecked on the llyria coast, but a captain helps her reach ashore. From this incident, she loses contact with Sebastian her twin brother, who she perceives as dead. She portrays herself as a man by the name Cesario to join the service of Duke Orsino through the interventions of the sea captain who aids her. Duke Orsino later convinces himself that he is deeply in love with Olivia, whose brother and father have recently died, and who refuses to acknowledge charming things, be in man’s company and entertain marriage or love proposals from any person until the end of seven years without the exception of Duke. Cesario is used as an intermediary by Duke Orsino to express his passionate love before Olivia. Olivia, however, bridges the seven years principle by falling in love with Cesario, who does not realise that he is Viola in disguise. Similarly, Viola falls in love with Duke Orsino thus creating a love triangle between Olivia, Viola and Duke Orsino.
The sources of twelfth night
The play is extensively drawn on “The deceived ones” Italian production, which was collectively written in 1531 by the academic Degli Intronati. The actual twelfth night festival of Elizabethan encompassed the Lord of Misrule’s antics, who would call for songs, entertainment and mummery before leaving the position of authority. The play is regarded as preserving this traditional and festive licensed disorder’s atmosphere.
William Shakespeare wrote Twelfth Night apparently to be performed on the twelfth feast day, the joyous climax of the Renaissance Christmas season; however, the feast day itself otherwise has nothing to do with the substance of the play. The play’s subtitle suggests that it is a festive bagatelle to be lightly, but artfully, tossed off. Indeed, Shakespeare may have written the play earlier and revised it for the Christmas festival, for it contains many signs of revision.
The tone of Twelfth Night is consistently appropriate to high merriment. With nine comedies behind him when he wrote it, Shakespeare was at the height of his comic powers and in an exalted mood to which he never returned. Chronologically, the play immediately precedes Shakespeare’s great tragedies and problem plays. Twelfth Night recombines many elements and devices from earlier plays—particularly The Two Gentlemen of Verona (c. 1594-1595) and The Comedy of Errors (pr. c. 1592-1594, pb. 1623)—into a new triumph, unsurpassed in its deft execution.
It is a brilliant irony that Shakespeare’s most joyous play should be compounded out of the sadnesses of its principal characters. However, the sadnesses are, for the most part, those mannered sadnesses that the Elizabethans savored. Orsino, for example, particularly revels in a sweet melancholy reminiscent of that which afflicts Antonio at the beginning of The Merchant of Venice (pr. c. 1596-1597, pb. 1600). Orsino’s opening speech—which has often been taken overly seriously—is not a grief-stricken condemnation of love but rather owes much more to the Italian poet Petrarch. Orsino revels in the longings of love and in the bittersweet satiety of his romantic self-indulgence. He is in love with love.
On the other side of the city is the household of Olivia, which balances Orsino and his establishment. Although Olivia’s sadness at her brother’s death initially seems more substantial than Orsino’s airy romantic fantasies, she, too, is a Renaissance melancholic who is wringing the last ounce of enjoyment out of her grief. Her plan to isolate herself for seven years of mourning is an excess but one that provides an excellent counterbalance to Orsino’s fancy; it also sets the plot in motion, since Orsino’s love-longing is frustrated by Olivia’s decision to be a recluse.
The point of contact between Orsino and Olivia—ferrying back and forth between the two—is Viola. As Cesario, she also is sad, but her sadness, like the rest of her behavior, is more direct and human. The sweet beauty that shines through her male disguise is elevated beyond a vulgar joke by Olivia’s immediate, though circumstantially ridiculous, response to her human appeal. Viola’s grief is not stylized and her love is for human beings rather than for abstractions. She seems destined to unite the two melancholy dreamers, but what the play instead accomplishes is that Viola, in her own person and in that of her alter ego, her brother, becomes part of both households. The ultimate outcome is a glorious resolution. It is, of course, immaterial to the dreamy Orsino that he gets Viola instead of Olivia—the romantic emotion is more important to him than is the specific person. Olivia, already drawn out of her seclusion by the disguised Viola, gets what is even better for her, Sebastian.
The glittering plot is reinforced by some of Shakespeare’s best and most delicate dramatic poetry. Moreover, the drama is suffused with bittersweet music, and the idyllic setting in Illyria blends with language and imagery to create a most delightful atmosphere wholly appropriate to the celebration of love and to the enjoyment of this world.
The one notable briar in the story’s rose garden is Malvolio; however, he is easily the play’s most interesting character. He is called a Puritan, but although he is not a type, he does betray the characteristics then associated with that austere Anglican sect. He is a self-important, serious-minded person with high ideals who cannot bear the thought of others being happy. As Sir Toby puts it to him, “Dost thou think because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” Malvolio suffers within a joyous world; it is against his will that he becomes part of the fun when he is duped and made to appear ridiculous. As a character, he represents a historical group, then growing in power, whose earnestness threatens to take the joy out of life (and, incidentally, to close England’s theaters). Yet, Shakespeare does not indulge in a satire on Puritanism. He uses the critical powers of comedy in indirect ways.
Malvolio is ridiculous, but so are the cavaliers who surround him. The absurd Sir Andrew Aguecheek and the usually drunken Sir Toby Belch are the representatives, on the political level, of the old order that Malvolio’s counterparts in the real world are soon to topple. While these characters are flawed, they are certainly more engaging than the inflated Malvolio. Shakespeare does not set up the contrast as a political allegory, with right on one side and wrong on the other. Nevertheless, Malvolio is an intrusion into the otherwise idyllic world of the play. He cannot love; his desire for the hand of Olivia is grounded in an earnest will to get ahead. He cannot celebrate; he is too pious and self-involved. Nothing is left for him but to be the butt of a joke—his role in the celebration. Some critics have suggested that Malvolio is treated too harshly, but a Renaissance audience would have understood how ludicrous and indecorous it was for a man of his class to think, even for a moment, of courting Countess Olivia. His pompous and blustery language is the key to how alien he is to this festive context. When he does his bit, Olivia casually mentions that perhaps he is put upon, but this is the only sympathetic gesture he deserves. He is the force that threatens to destroy the celebration of all that is good and refined and joyful in Elizabethan society.
Twelfth Night develops its theme on two levels. The main plot, written mostly in blank verse, shows the nobility in pursuit of love. The subplot features lower characters, who speak in prose and pursue drunkenness and mischief.
In the main plot, the twins Viola and Sebastian are shipwrecked on the Illyrian coast and separated; each presumes the other dead. Disguised as a young man, Viola joins the court of Duke Orsino, falls in love with him, and becomes his favorite. Orsino loves the lady Olivia, who refuses his attentions because she still mourns her dead brother. When Orsino sends Viola to woo Olivia for him, Olivia falls in love with Viola.
In the subplot, Sir Toby Belch, Olivia’s uncle, and Sir Andrew Aguecheek, a ridiculous suitor to Olivia, fall out with Malvolio, Olivia’s puritanical steward, who condemns their revels. With the help of Maria and Fabian, Olivia’s servants, they trick the self-serving Malvolio into thinking Olivia loves him, then they confine him for insanity. Sir Toby also persuades Sir Andrew to challenge Viola to a duel.
These plots untangle when Sebastian appears, marries Olivia, and whips Sir Andrew and Sir Toby. Viola throws off her disguise and accepts Orsino’s proposal of marriage. Freed, Malvolio stomps out vowing revenge on them all.
Symbolically opposed to Malvolio is Feste, the wise clown. He fools Olivia out of her mourning and Orsino out of his lovesickness--both self-indulgent, sterile behaviors, like Malvolio’s self-love. Shakespeare implies that people should open themselves to celebration and love, even if it makes them appear foolish, since it is truly foolish to deny these life forces.
Berry, Ralph. Shakespeare’s Comedies: Explorations in Form. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1972. A discussion of Shakespeare’s comedies in which each chapter is devoted to a specific play. In the chapter “The Messages of Twelfth Night,” Barry discusses the deceits and illusions in the play and concludes that it calls the very nature of reality into question.
Levin, Richard A. Love and Society in Shakespearean Comedy. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1985. A critical study of three of Shakespeare’s romantic comedies. Two chapters deal with Twelfth Night: “Household Politics in Illyria” discusses the acceptance of the various characters into society, while “Feste and the Antiromantic Twelfth Night” focuses on the discordant elements of the play.
Lloyd Evans, Gareth. The Upstart Crow: An Introduction to Shakespeare’s Plays. London: J. M. Dent and Sons, 1982. Focuses mainly on critical reviews of Shakespeare’s plays, as well as discussing sources and historical context and background.
Muir, Kenneth, ed. Shakespeare—The Comedies: A Collection of Critical Essays. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1965. An anthology of essays that discuss Shakespeare’s comedies from various points of view. Harold Jenkins compares Twelfth Night with earlier plays by Shakespeare and others and concludes that it is the greatest of Shakespeare’s romantic comedies.
Shakespeare, William. Twelfth Night. Edited by J. M. Lothian and T. W. Craik. London: Methuen, 1975. Includes more than eighty pages of introductory material and critical analysis, as well as the text of the play itself.