Twelfth Night

Viola is an aristocrat who washes up on Illyria’s shore and disguises herself as a man called ‘Cesario’ in order to become Orsino’s servant. He sends her to woo Olivia on his behalf, and her disguise prevents her from telling Orsino that she has fallen in love with him, or telling Olivia why she cannot love her back when the countess falls in love with ‘Cesario.’

Viola’s cross-dressing causes most of the play’s shenanigans, but why does she do it? From a purely logical perspective, having washed ashore with no money, she needed a job; Olivia wasn’t taking applications (because of her recently dead brother,) and while she could have been a female domestic servant for Orsino, it would have been harder work with less pay. From a more emotionally aware standpoint, she is buying herself some time to play pretend, before having to be “delivered to the [real] world” in which her twin brother is dead. In this way she is similar to Olivia, who also shuts herself off from the world to mourn, unable or unwilling to confront a reality without her brother.

Whatever her motivation, Viola’s disguise has serious implications for the themes and commentary of the play as much as it does for the plot. It blurs the line of binary gender and shows that androgyny can be attractive. It suggests that gender may be performative rather than innate, as she is accepted as a male simply for dressing and performing the social role of one. It suggests that the divide between classes may also be performative, given that her actions as a servant prevent other characters from seeing her as a noble. And it suggests that given the opportunity, women are equal to men in capability.

Counterintuitively, in light of these rather progressive implications, her social transgression (dressing as a man) ultimately causes the consummation of heterosexual marriages that reaffirm both the patriarchy and class system. These societal structures were threatened by Olivia’s power as the head of her noble household and refusal to marry up, Sir Toby’s fraternisation with servants, and Orsino’s being so lovelorn and shut in at his castle that he wasn’t exercising his rule over the county/dukedom. But Viola’s ‘Cesario’ pulls both Olivia and Orsino out of their self-absorbed states, in giving Orsino a relationship grounded in trust and reality rather than fantasy and egoism, and tempting Olivia out of her avowed seven years of mourning.

However, this wasn’t all part of some great pro-authority master plan. On the contrary, Viola’s actions are largely driven by passivity and naivety. Although her choice to disguise her gender and identity could be considered proactive and bold, her inability to deal with its consequences when things get complicated – instead leaving her problems up to “fate” and “time” to solve – show instead that it was impulsive and not well thought through. Perhaps she, Olivia, and Orsino all simply want what they cannot have.

To Olivia, Cesario represents youth, freedom, and is a suitor that won’t cost her her independence. To Viola, Orsino represents her old, noble-born life. For Orsino, Olivia’s love would validate his own inflated self-image. (This interpretation also holds for other characters: Malvolio wants Olivia’s status, and Sir Andrew wants her respect.)