[WARNING: This contains MAJOR spoilers]
Hello everyone, I’m on an
“analysis” spree; last week I analysed Catherine Earnshaw’s character, today
I’m going to write about one of my pet subjects—Feminism in Shakespeare’s
works. Of course, that man was a genius, and I absolutely love all of his plays
and poems; they’re very well-written, and are very beautiful and emotive [at
times, they’re so dark you won’t like them in the beginning, but they kinda
grow on you—like Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear etc.] Some of my favourites are The
Merchant of Venice, Hamlet, A Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night, As You Like It,
Othello, Macbeth, The Winter’s Tale, Cymbeline… I have so many “favourites”,
it’ll take forever to list them! So anyway, [sorry, I got excited. I tend to
ramble on and on when I’m excited] Shakespeare’s plays have contained some
very, very, very strong female
characters. These amazing women often tend to overshadow the men in the
respective plays; even when they’re relatively minor [like Jessica from A
Merchant of Venice], they still stand out in their own ways [some of them just
don’t get enough screen time, though. Humph!] When I was younger and less
experienced, I always thought that Shakespeare was a man who thought way ahead
of his time [especially in his portrayal of women], and I still think that,
though I now have mixed opinions about the “feminism” in his works. Here we go!
I’d just like to begin by saying
that Portia, the lead female of The Merchant of Venice, is probably the best
example of Shakespeare’s powerful female characters. She has garnered critical
acclaim for her self-sufficiency, intelligence, strong-will [she really has
indomitable will-power], quick wit [she has the ability to take major decisions
very quickly], and sharp sense of humour. She is also very wise, in spite of
having lived a very sheltered life [she’s super rich. Her father died shortly
before the events of the play, and now she’s being wooed by idiotic men who
want her beauty and her money. She’s extremely
beautiful.] She also has golden hair [I don’t know where the stereotype of
dumb blondes originated from—I mean, just look at this paragon of wisdom!]
According to me, Portia is the best example of a fictional woman who possesses
beauty, bravery, and brains in equal measure. People who are unable to look
beyond the surface are unable to appreciate her fully [and this includes
Bassanio, her husband, even though he is more insightful than other men. He
values her greatly, but does not know just how invaluable she is until the end of the play.] I liked Portia since
the beginning, but the real treat is when she quickly decides to travel to
Venice to save Antonio’s life [ in a nutshell, Antonio, Bassanio’s best friend
and the titular “Merchant of Venice”, is being targeted by a psychotic
money-lender Shylock, who wants a pound of his flesh. Since this was a legal
agreement, Antonio is in troubled waters.] She decides to use her wit to deal
with his unwarranted nuisance. She disguises herself as a male lawyer
[cross-dressing was one of Shakespeare’s favourite themes] and hastens to
Venice with her companion, Nerissa. Once
there, she proceeds to bowl everyone over with her insightful, philosophical
speeches; when her entreaties to Shylock fail, she calmly states that he can
have his pound of flesh, but must not shed a drop of blood in the process. Of
course, this effectively renders Shylock’s scheme useless and saves Antonio’s
life. She did this single-handedly! She is completely inexperienced when it
comes to law, but she still dealt with this matter swiftly and smoothly,
succeeding where actual lawyers
could not. She completely outshines every character in this play [I actually
would love it if there was a play centred only around her. Sadly, there isn’t.
Anyways, I love her!]
I’m taking a moment to appreciate
Jessica, Shylock’s daughter. She’s way too under-rated; critics just pass her
over. Sure, she’s more of a “side character”, and she doesn’t shine like Portia
does, but so what? Not everyone can shine like Portia does. And I really do
like Jessica. She’s very intelligent, perceptive, unconventional, passionate,
and sweet-tempered [but feisty, hahaha.] She’s the mastermind of her dramatic
elopement with Lorenzo, a Christian. [She’s a Jew.] She feels stifled by her
father, and really wants to spread her wings and fly; Lorenzo gives her an
opportunity to do so. She cross-dresses too [as a page-boy. What is it with
Shakespeare and cross-dressing?] We don’t hear of her after her escape, but I
hope she’s happy and healthy [wow, I’m talking about her as if she’s a real
person!]
Moving on, Viola from “Twelfth
Night” is another great example of a strong woman. I really like her, too! At the beginning of
the play, she is shipwrecked off the coast of Illyria, and loses all contact
with her twin brother, Sebastian. She is understandably afraid, as it is unsafe
for young women to wander in Illyria unescorted; however, the Captain of the
ship which rescued her advises her to disguise herself as a man and enter the
service of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria; he has a very good reputation, and will
definitely help her. As she has no other options, Viola agrees immediately.
Disguising herself as a pageboy named “Cesario”, she joins Orsino’s train of
servants. In spite of her young age, she is very well-versed in the ways of the
world, and is very… “street-smart” [I just wanted to use this word.] She’s vey
shrewd and observant. Because of her
wisdom and precociousness, she quickly grows very close to Orsino, becoming his
closest advisor and companion. The two often hold long discussions about true
love [Orsino is deeply infatuated with a beautiful woman called Olivia, who
refuses to see the face of any man till seven years have passed, as she is
mourning her brother’s death.] Viola, who has discovered that Orsino’s
reputation does not do him justice, slowly but surely begins falling in love
with him. She drops subtle [sometimes not-so-subtle] hints about the same, but
Orsino is so… dense! He doesn’t get it at all. Viola is so charming that even
Olivia [who, like everyone else, thinks she’s a man] falls in love with her
[this was hilarious. It really was so hilarious.
I love this play!] Sebastian is revealed to be alive [Viola looks just like him
in her disguise; the poor twins often get mistaken for each [so it’s kinda like
A Comedy of Errors]. Ha—the best thing was Olivia mistaking Sebastian for Cesario
and dragging him off to be married instantly [this was one of the greatest
scenes!] Eventually, the twins come face-to-face, the confusion is cleared up,
Viola is finally able to reveal herself as a woman [and Orsino, recalling her
sharp wit and quick tongue, along with her beauty, decides to marry her. This
isn’t some stupid infatuation—he actually does love her, I believe. Well, I’m
glad she got what she wanted! She deserves a man who will value her and love
her unconditionally.]
The Winter’s Tale has three very strong female characters. My
favourite is Paulina, the closest confidante of Hermione, the queen of Sicilia.
Paulina is extremely distinctive, as she is charismatic, down-to-earth, very
kind-hearted, very intelligent, prudent, and observant. She is one of the key
characters of this play. She is very vocal about her dislike of the king’s
treatment of Hermione [I’ll explain in detail in a while.] She’s also rather
under-appreciated [for reasons unknown to me] but I don’t care what others
think, Paulina really shines. She is a huge help to Hermione, and the only
person who dares to stand up to the king, Leontes, when he’s being irrational
[which is like 99% of the time.] She’s the voice of reason and justice in this
play. However, Hermione should not be left out; oh my god, she’s so strong! She’s more of the “strong
and silent” type—Shakespeare’s strong women often tend to be very vocal and
expressive. Hermione is eloquent, but in a very quiet way. She could be
mistaken for passive, but she’s not—she just doesn’t believe in wasting her
breath, and really wants to maintain her dignity and maturity [she’s a queen,
after all.] When Leontes accuses her of infidelity [he rages and rants,
throwing unjustifiable insults at her], she calmly and firmly states that she
has NOT been unfaithful. She asks him to just listen to her, but he demands
that she prove her innocence; she is aware of her purity [she’s as pure as a
mountain lily] and does not feel the need to prove herself to anyone. Leontes
imprisons her, and puts her on public trial after a week. Though the Oracle of
Apollo declares that she is innocent [hence proven], the tyrant who calls
himself king of Sicilia refuses to believe this, and slanders her further. She
defends herself very well; her anger is obvious, but she chooses her words
carefully, as she does not want to act as immature as Leontes. However, soon
after, a servant declares that Mamillius, the prince of Sicilia, has died of a
broken heart upon witnessing the inhumane treatment of his mother; this is the
last straw for Hermione, and she swoons. Paulina reports her death to the king
[don’t worry, though. She’s actually alive, she’s just very shocked.] She
recuperates at Paulina’s home [she stays there for sixteen years. A very long
time, huh?] and reunites with Leontes at the end [cause that king realised how
wrong he was, and he’s been mourning her for sixteen years.] So… it’s happily
ever after for her!
Her daughter, Perdita, is no
less! She was abandoned by Leontes as an infant, because he was sure she was
the result of Hermione’s infidelity; of course, these are unfounded suspicions.
She is Leontes and Hermione’s daughter. Well, so she was left to survive on her
own—as a babe! Fortunately, she was found by an old shepherd and his son, and
they raised her as one of their own [but they knew of her royal status, because
Antigonus, the man who was forced to abandon her, left a bundle of royal
documents beside her.] Sixteen years later, here she is, a feisty, independent,
indescribably beautiful girl who has no dearth of admirers. However, she has
eyes for only one man—Florizel, the prince of Bohemia [where she resides]. She
doesn’t know he’s the prince, though; he has disguised himself as a shepherd,
Doricles. The two often hold
conversations on deeply philosophical topics, and Perdita proves to be very
intelligent and very well-versed in spirituality. Polixenes, the king of Bohemia, does not
approve of the growing closeness between the shepherdess and his son, so the
two lovebirds flee to Sicilia, where they are warmly greeted by Leontes; when
he finds out that Perdita is his long-lost daughter, his joy knows no bounds.
She is reunited with her mother, and betrothed to Florizel; so, it’s happily
ever after for her, too!
There are so many women I want to
write about. Right now, I’m just quickly gonna mention Lady Macbeth from
“Macbeth” and Rosalind from “As You Like It”; I don’t really like Lady Macbeth,
as she’s evil [but I can’t deny the fact that she’s very prominent—the most
prominent character of Macbeth. She has been highly praised by critics. But,
dear reader, is portraying a strong but evil woman “feminism”? I don’t exactly
think so. I feel that some of Shakespeare’s works have been over-hyped, and
people ooh-aah over how great his female characters are, but all of them are not great. I think he had a rather
typical mindset [even though it was more progressive than his time], and his
strong women were either cross-dressed [or portrayed as helpless when they were
not], very quiet like Hermione, or femme fatales [yeah, I’m talking about
Tamora from “Titus Andronicus”. She is the most iconic villainess of
Shakespeare’s plays.] About Rosalind—she’s my undisputed favourite from As You
Like It, as she is very courageous, quick-witted and kinda tomboyish [she’s
also taller than most women her age, much taller. She’s also quite playful!]
However, she cross-dresses, too, as a shepherd lad called “Ganymede”. That’s
what irritates me—his plays are jewels, but the themes are often so repetitive; it would’ve been so much
better if his plays experimented more with different concepts. Also, several
critics have accused him of being too explicit and misogynistic [if you read
The Taming of the Shrew, you’ll know what I mean. That play is good for laughs,
and I think the characters are very well fleshed-out, but it’s no longer one of
my favourites. It’s the farthest thing from “feminism” I’ve ever read. It
literally revolves around how a woman, Katherine [she’s very sharp-tongued, so
she’s called a “shrew”], is tamed and made to submit by a man called Petruchio.
It was my sister who opened my eyes to the deceptiveness of this play. Don’t
get me wrong—there are plays that I haven’t mentioned, plays that have some
really remarkable women; but there are also other plays that I haven’t
mentioned, plays that don’t promote gender equality at all.
That’s all for now. See you next
week!
Thank you! I hope you liked my
[really long] article!
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