The
holiday of Twelfth Night emerged from the Roman Saturnalia
festival and pagan Yuletide, fertility rites and extended
feasts celebrating the onset of the Winter Solstice. The Yule
celebration marks a turning point on the calendar, the onset
of lengthening days of sunlight. Christianity repurposed these
two pagan fests, incorporating elements to create the celebration
of the Epiphany, the feast observed for the visitation of
the Magi at the birth of the infant Jesus, concluding the
“Twelve Days of Christmas”.
In
Tudor England, the festivities often included the temporary
upending of normal order, anointing a “King” and
“Queen” who presided over the ensuing misrule
of the night. Participants were encouraged to behave contrary
to their usual demeanor, and take part in ludicrous (but hilariously
entertaining) tasks. A special Twelfth Night cake (also known
as King cake or Tortell de Reis) was baked with various
“charms” hidden inside, the recipient of which
crowned the King (with a bean) and Queen (with a pea), as
well as additional roles to be played during the revels.
Twelfth
Night, or What You Will is generally thought
to have been written by Shakespeare sometime in 1601. This
date proves consistent with various allusions throughout the
play referring to specific known historical milestones and
discoveries, and thus allow rather accurate inferences to
be made in this regard. The curious titling of Twelfth
Night bears no direct significance to any apparent events
within the play, and in fact, the alternative title of “What
You Will” (loosely meaning, “whatever you want”)
suggests Shakespeare’s quixotic naming convention, also
reflected similarly in his two previous comedic titles: Much
Ado About Nothing and As You Like It. It may
simply be that Shakespeare was well aware of typical Twelfth
Night hijinks and borrowed the themes of pranks, drunken revelry
and the off-kilter fatuosity of “things-not-as-they-seem”.
Scholars agree that Twelfth
Night derives proximately from Barnabie Riche’s prose
tale, Apolonius and Silla (1581), and ultimately
from the Italian play Gl’Ingannati (The
Deceived Ones, 1531). Both compositions turn chiefly upon
the common plot elements of disguise, misidentifications and
a pair of female/male twins. Aside from plot structure, elements
of characterizations and principals appear to have been liberally
adapted from these previous works. Shakespeare had also utilized
similar devices previously in his own works, The Comedy
of Errors, Two Gentlemen of Verona and As
You Like It. The disguise of the heroine as a man especially
had already emerged as a favored theme in Shakespeare’s
comedic canon.
Twelfth Night differs
somewhat from Shakespeare’s other comedies in that the
setting is firmly established from the beginning in a fictional
place. With Much Ado, Taming of the Shrew,
even Midsummer Night’s Dream, the settings
--however fictional-- are named for real locations (Messina,
Padua and Athens, respectively). With Twelfth Night, two entirely
fictional warring states are presented in the very first scene:
Messaline and Illyria. Thus, the action takes place free of
any prior associations the audience might have. The shipwrecked
Viola and her brother Sebastian thus become important agents
of change induced into what may be considered a previously
“closed system”.
Despite
its generally light and humorous tone, the play presents the
observer with a number of inescapable truths about life and
living. While Shakespeare does not truly moralize, he offers
a kaleidescope of human behaviors that all will recognize
as our common condition.
The character
of Malvolio has been frequently identified in critical commentaries
as a deliberate poke at the rigidly conservative Puritan mindset
of Shakespeare’s era. Intended to mock the oft Pharisaical
attitudes and hyperrationality, the story depicts that kind
of haughty hypocrisy that becomes just as much a vice as those
vices it disdains:
“The
devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a time
pleaser,
an affectioned ass, that cons state without book, and utters
it by great swarths;
the best persuaded of himself...”
Thus, the fate of Malvolio
may be said to have been ironically self-inflicted to some
degree. Other characters provide the gamut of vices, for example:
Sir Toby’s gluttony and sloth while he wheedles his
gull, Andrew, Orsino’s surfeiting melancholy and later
anger, when he believes himself betrayed by the “dissembling
cub” Cesario, Olivia’s pride and vanity in maintaining
her protracted mourning. The wide spectrum of vice and humours
is “most feelingly personated” here by the principals
for our amusement. Viola, as heroine, appears to be free of
the fetters of vice afflicting the others, as does Feste,
who provides the only objective perspective in his mediary
role as Shakespearean fool. Malvolio is also occasionally
interpreted as a tragic character, often compared to the character
of Shylock (in Merchant of Venice). Despite superficial
similarities, this assertion does not generally hold up as
a viable theory, however. Whereas Shylock represents more
complex aspects of race and profession which have historically
been objects of ridicule and scapegoating, Malvolio hardly
inspires the same kind of sympathies. While both have themselves
to blame for inspiring the revenges visited upon them (as
embedded character flaws), the treatment of Shylock evokes
a more ambivalent reaction. Malvolio, however remains well-pleased
with his self-love, despite his trials, and possesses no observable
sympathetic aspects that might prompt the audience to justify
his behavior to any appreciable degree. He does not learn,
his spirit remains unbroken, he is unrepentant and goes along
his way vengeful, yet unchanged. The particularly harsh fate
of Shylock, owing somewhat to immutable factors of race and
religion may seem far more deserving of our pity.

The role of Feste is offered
as deft counterpoint to Malvolio, Toby and especially the
addled would-be love triangles capering about in confusion.
Shakespeare fashioned his “allowed fool” as arbiter
and observer, detached from events therein. His worldly wisdom,
like that of Lear’s fool and Jacques of As You Like
It, permits him to participate, catalyze, yet remain
largely above the fray. Feste is most clearly contrasted with
Sir Andrew; who represents the multifarious "unconscious"
fools inhabiting the play. Typically, other characters lacking
the self-knowledge which Feste possesses, end up inadvertently
providing most of the humor. We are cleverly reminded time
and again that although the Lady Olivia's fool might dress
the part, the others are clearly his zanies. ("That
is to say, I wear not motley in my brain.") Feste
also moves freely between the courts of Olivia and Orsino,
further emphasizing his position outside the typical Illyrian
hierarchy. We also notice immediately that Feste is present
at many of the play’s critical plot points, often providing
clarity for other characters, yet allowing action and consequence
to proceed to their logical conclusions. It is his oft indirect
delivery -- cloaking his keen observations with wit -- which
allow him to both entertain and enlighten. Clearly, he sees
Olivia’s mourning as affected, Orsino’s melancholy
as exaggerated and is likely well aware of Viola’s disguise,
but intervenes only minimally (with the exception of his turn
as Sir Topas). Feste also comments directly upon the bittersweet
themes of love in the play in the form of his songs. His profound
impact on each character is unquestionable, just as he remains
accessible to each ("... I am for all!").
Twelfth
Night King Cake recipe: (link)