As You Like It

As You Like It, a romantic comedy with a title that seems to have no plot-related meaning but simply promises to be an audience-pleaser, has kept that promise since its debut in 1599. Its story merges several comic devices that Shakespeare knew to be popular with his theatre-goers including a female character masquerading as a man, multiple couples wooing and wedding, bitter sibling rivalries resolved, and a court jester to compound the humor at every turn.

Few of Shakespeare’s plays rely as much on direct and indirect biblical references. The allusions to the Garden of Eden in particular are so numerous that they become a major theme of the story.

The plot centers on two pairs of brothers, both consisting of an evil brother casting a good brother out of his rightful place. Both outcasts resort to the Forest of Arden, an unexpectedly Edenic place where their banishments turn out to be blessings. Duke Senior, legitimate ruler of the realm, is overthrown by younger brother Frederick and banished to the forest along with his top advisors. Meanwhile Oliver, a wealthy young gentleman, plots against the life of his youngest brother Orlando, forcing him to escape into the same forest.

None of this sounds romantic, but there’s more. The evil Duke Frederick has a daughter Celia who is inseparable from her beloved cousin Rosalind, daughter of the rightful Duke. Rosalind is soon banished also, but Celia determines to escape with her cousin into exile and persuades Touchstone the jester to go along. Still no romance? Well, Rosalind and Orlando have laid longing eyes upon each other before their escapes to Arden, and that’s enough to set in motion not just one, but four love matches. 

The “disguised female” feature results from Rosalind’s decision to dress as a man for safety in the forest. When she finds out Orlando is also in Arden, she takes (unfair?) advantage by role-playing as an advisor to the lovelorn without Orlando realizing he is dealing with the woman of his dreams. 

Biblical references and themes 

“Adam” is the fourth word of the play, and the recurring theme of Creation and Garden of Eden will follow. This Adam is the faithful, aged servant of the late Sir Rowland de Boys who will shortly abandon Sir Rowland’s evil heir Oliver, give his life’s savings to young Orlando, and attend him into the forest.

When we first see Arden, Duke Senior is addressing his fellow-exiles and we find that the forest is not the wild and threatening place the men had feared. In Act II, Scene 1, lines 1-11 (II.1.1-11 in the Folger Shakespeare Library edition) he rejoices that they are safer there where they “feel not the penalty of Adam” than they were in “the envious court.” Jacques laments the need of killing deer for food (II.1.21-25) as inconsistent with Arden’s unsullied environment.

Orlando assumes the forest to be “uncouth” upon first venturing into it (II.6.6) but is soon happy to find it full of gentleness (II.7.111-114). The cold winds that might arise (II.5.6-8) are declared to be not a curse, but a blessing compared with human sinfulness (II.7.182-184). Even the diabolical creature who invaded Eden to ruin mankind also has a sinister equivalent in Arden (the serpent in IV.3.114). Besides these reflections of the Garden of Eden, Rosalind’s casual remark that the earth is “almost 6000 years old” (IV.1.100) assumes the traditionally estimated date of the Genesis creation, 4000 B.C.

Direct references to Bible accounts in As You Like It include the prodigal son (I.1.37 and 74), God’s feeding of the ravens in Luke 12:24 and the sparrows in Matthew 10:29 (II.3.44-45), the woman as the “weaker vessel” from I Peter 3:7 (II.4.6), a tree yielding “bad fruit” from Matthew 7:18 (III.2.117), and animals coming in pairs to the ark from Gen. 7:8-9 (V.4.36-37).

Less direct allusions include the Judas kiss (III.4.8-9) and Ruth’s gleaning of harvest leftovers (III.5.106-111). Even the wicked usurper Duke Frederick seems to know Jesus’ lost coin parable from Luke 15:8 in his “seek him with candle” command (III.1.6). That parable leads directly into the better-known prodigal son story which Shakespeare had used more obviously in Act I.

In very general terms an orthodox God-centered worldview is further reflected in expressions like “sermons in stone” (II.1.17), “Is he of God’s making?” (III.2.209-214), “thank heaven fasting” (III.5.62-63), and the disclaimer that Rosalind’s “magic” is “not damnable” (V.2.63-65).

Respect for biblical marriage is upheld throughout the play despite the jester’s inclination to lower that standard with a questionable wedding. He is reprimanded by Jacques and persuaded to get properly married (III.3.83-105). Even the lowly shepherd Silvius professes a love for Phoebe that is “So holy and so perfect…” (III.5.106). All four couples, socially diverse though they are, share a respectable quadruple wedding at play’s end after chaste courtships.

Shakespeare oddly brings a representation of a Roman deity onstage to solemnize the ceremony (V.4.190-191), but the biblical tone is restored immediately as the closing scene is interrupted by miraculous news. Duke Frederick, upon entering the Forest of Arden with evil intent, has met an “old religious man,” been “converted from the world,” and surrendered his usurped crown (V.4.159-168). Not coincidentally Oliver, the play’s other villain, had earlier undergone a conversion soon after entering this beneficent forest. Jacques now declares he will go find Frederick and learn from this “convertite” (V.4.190-191).

So the story’s climax features the launching of four marriages, repentance of the villains, their reconciliation with their brothers, and a final picture of religious devotion with Eden restored.  

Similarities to other Shakespeare plays

Kings/Dukes usurped by younger brothers: As You Like It, The Tempest, Hamlet. (The princes in Much Ado About Nothing almost fit the category, as Claudio has apparently put down a rebellion led by Don John just before the action of the play begins.)  

Weddings of multiple couples performed or impending: As You Like It, Midsummer Night’s Dream, Twelfth Night, Much Ado About Nothing, The Taming of the Shrew, The Merchant of Venice. 

Women disguised as men: As You Like It, Twelfth Night, Two Gentlemen of Verona. [Mind-bending bonus: The As You Like It version of the gender disguise adds an extra twist when Rosalind masquerading as the male Ganymede proposes to role-play a woman—herself! Remember, female stage roles in Shakespeare’s time were played by boys dressed as women. So the first audiences of As You Like It were treated to a male playing a female disguised as a male role-playing a female!]

Teachers' Resources for Shakespeare

The following is a list of books and other resources that can be very useful for teachers preparing lessons, discussions, and assignments on Shakespeare plays. Please contribute your ideas for extending and improving this list.

• Brightest Heaven of Invention, A Christian Guide to Six Shakespeare Plays. Excellent book by Peter J. Leithart (Cannon Press, Moscow, ID, 1996) with chapters on Henry V, Julius Caesar, Hamlet, Macbeth, Taming of the Shrew, and Much Ado About Nothing. Also an introduction on "A Christian Approach to Literary Study" and general introduction essays to history, tragedy, and comedy plays. I find the material quite sophisticated, and use it primarily with A.P. English classes, although it can be a useful resource at the College Prep level as well.
  
  
• Stories from Shakespeare by Marchette Chute. For generations a standard little reference book with easy-to-read but literate and accurate prose summaries of 36 of the 37 plays of Shakespeare (the 36 included in the First Folio, excluding Pericles). When you need a quick summary for any reason, this is an excellent resource. I sometimes have students read one of the summaries if I want them to have a working knowledge of a plot line that somehow parallels a play they are actually reading. (Teach Twelfth Night and include a summary of Comedy of Errors, for example.) The book also has a useful 7-page introduction.
  
  
• Twisted Tales from Shakespeare by Richard Armour, "twistfully illustrated by Campbell Grant." My dear old Dad, bless him, introduced this book to me while I was still in high school. A hilarious collection of pseudo-academic spoofs on Hamlet, Macbeth, Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo & Juliet, Merchant of Venice, and Othello. Also spurious introductions on Shakespeare's Life, The Elizabethan Theater, and Shakespeare's Development, and appendices on The Sonnets and Authorship of the Plays, which offers a fractured guide to those theories that Shakespeare didn't write anything at all. My rule: Students MUST master the real play before being allowed to see the spoof. Out of print for years, I'm seeing used copies on Amazon for $14 and up. My old copy says $2.45 on the cover, 70 cents higher than the original 1957 published price.
  
  
• An excellent on-line "concordance" to Shakespeare's works is available at www.rhymezone.com/shakespeare/ Enter a word or phrase and find where it appears in Shakespeare's writings.
  
  
• Christ in the Drama by Fred Eastman, (Macmillan Co., New York, 1947). Chapter Two is titled “The Influence of Christ in Shakespeare’s Plays.” In this venerable classic, Eastman gives special attention to Othello, Macbeth, and King Lear, but also deals with Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, and Julius Caesar. (Other Shakespeare titles are referred to in passing.) Available as of this writing from Barnes & Noble or Amazon.com.
  
  
• Shakespearean Criticism, published by Thomson Gale. This is beyond being a gold mine; it’s the Mother Lode! In printed form it is a series of more than 80 volumes, with new volumes added periodically, collecting short scholarly articles and excerpts on Shakespearean drama. Each volume updates a complete indexing of the entire set, with a Character Index, Topic Index, and Topic Index classified by play titles. Bibliographic information is included. Probably available only in large libraries such as those on college campuses. My students and I use the set at the University of Oregon library. The material is now being made available as an online database as well.

Hamlet

Hamlet. Most scholars and followers of classical literature place it somewhere on a scale between the greatest tragedy ever written by Shakespeare and the greatest play of any kind ever written by anyone. It is a worldwide phenomenon, translated into countless languages, performed constantly around the 24 time zones by amateurs, school and college groups, and professionals in its original form and in modernized variations, on live stage and screen.

Structurally, it is composed of three consecutive stories each with its own climactic scene. First a ghost story, next a detective story, finally a revenge story. Hamlet must first brave a meeting with a ghost of dubious identity, next play the sleuth to confirm whether the ghost has told him the truth, finally take the revenge that (he believes) only he can and should do.

Of course the whole issue of taking revenge is central in the play, especially for Christians who know that "Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord" (Rom. 12:19 paraphrasing Deut. 32:35). But perhaps this is not a standard revenge story at all, considering that Hamlet can be seen as the rightful ruler of Denmark with the sole God-given authority and responsibility (Prov. 20:26) to crush a false usurper who has assassinated Hamlet's royal father. The throne may not have been automatically hereditary in the Denmark portrayed by Shakespeare, but seems to have been virtually so, probably dependent only upon the "voice" of the previous monarch. Hamlet from the beginning sees himself (reluctantly) as the one person in "out of joint" Denmark "born to set it right" (I.5.210-211). He says that the false king Claudius has come between "th' election" (being crowned king) and his hopes (V.2.73). Fortinbras, who will become king at the end on the strength of Hamlet's "dying voice" (V.2.392-393), closes the play by saying that Hamlet would have "proved most royal" if he had lived (V.2.443-444).

One could argue that David, anointed as Israel's king to replace Saul, did not kill the divinely "deposed" king (First Samuel 24:6, 10), but it is up to the reader to decide whether that situation is analogous to the situation between Hamlet and his Uncle Claudius. The usurper is certainly the assassin of a legitimate king, a crime worthy of death in itself, but who has the authority to bring him to justice?

Beyond his central crime of fratricide, we see other deep character flaws in Claudius. He cannot bring himself to confess to heaven and repent of his sins, although he tries to go through the forms (III.3.40-103), and in the end he chooses not to save Queen Gertrude's life because it would have exposed him for his plot to kill Hamlet (V.2.315-318). However, it is not Claudius' tragic flaw we are seeking, but that of our tragic hero, Hamlet himself. Most often, something like "indecision" is nominated, although it is debateable whether that qualifies as a tragic flaw. (See my "Topics" post on "Tragic Heroes.") Hamlet certainly chides himself for lacking sufficient internal motivation to act, and his delay certainly expands the tragedy to encompass the deaths of multiple people including himself. After watching an actor bring himself to tears by simply reciting a speech, Hamlet reproaches himself for not acting upon legitimate motivation (II.2.577-616), and later with even more justification he compares his inaction with the military determination of Fortinbras and his soldiers (IV.4.41-69).

Ironically, the one time he does act hastily it is to impetuously, mistakenly kill the wrong man (III.4.29). And the one time he has the perfect opportunity and the full intention of slaying Claudius, he gives in to a desire to make his revenge even worse, filtered through a faulty view of God's final judgment, and delays his action once again. Claudius appears to be praying, and Hamlet decides that killing him at such a pious moment will not result in sufficient punishment for eternity (III.3.70-103). The supreme irony here is that Claudius is not praying at all, but trying to summon the will to do so.

The search for Hamlet's tragic flaw is complicated for some readers by the question of his sanity. They find it difficult to hold a person in the grip of madness accountable for his faults. So the persistent question of whether Hamlet is insane, and to what extent, becomes relevant. Is his "madness" entirely feigned as a cover for his early detective work and his later maneuvering to kill the king? Some lines that may help with this question include II.2.223-224 and 399-403. In any case, Shakespeare later shows us Ophelia's genuine and pitiful insanity (IV.5.1-78) as a comparison/contrast.

Shakespeare has created a set of doctrinal assumptions, quite consistent with the Roman Catholic environment of the time when the play is set, within which Hamlet works, and it goes well beyond the prince's view of judgment day. The idea of Purgatory, a place of "burning off" unresolved sins before being finally delivered to heaven, is seen in I.5.5-28 and 81-88, as well as V.1.230-247, V.2.52 and Hamlet's decision to kill the king at a more "sinful" time, mentioned above. The idea of suicide being not only a sin, but beyond the range of God's full forgiveness, is implied or stated in I.2.133-136, II.1.64-96, and V.1.230-247.

A Bible doctrine that would be much less controversial across Christianity would be the strong denunciation of adultery that runs throughout the play. It starts with Hamlet's reference to "incestuous sheets" (I.2.162) before he even knows that there was a murder involved, because he considers a widow's marriage to her former brother-in-law to be adulterous. It continues in passages including I.5.49-64, III.4.49-60, and indirectly in III.1.146-162 where Hamlet's railing against women in general probably grows from his horror over his mother's adultery.

Hamlet seems to have a good grasp on biblical truth in areas such as seeking God's forgiveness (III.4.170-179) and exchanging human forgiveness (V.2.361-364). He knows the extent of his own sinfulness (III.1.131-140) and his "What is man?" speech (II.2.327-332) parallels Psalm 8:4-6. Most of all, he speaks eloquently of his death being in the hands of God, notably in V.2.233-238 where he cites Matt.10:29-31 on God's notice of a sparrow's fall. See also V.2.11-12.

Additionally, there are many references and allusions to the Bible itself, both serious and humorous, many of them based on relatively small details of scripture. These include I.1.174, I.4.43-49, II.2.434-436, IV.4.61, and V.1.79.

Aside #1: For me, an unfortunate aspect of the story is Hamlet's devious orders that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern be executed. They are, of course, traitors to his cause, but they are "small men" in the employ of Claudius, and relatively harmless in my view. I don't see that Hamlet had the moral authority to have them killed, and I don't see any necessity for their deaths. I'm waiting for someone to convince me otherwise, but I think that Shakespeare's decision to write that subterfuge into Hamlet's character detracts needlessly from the "noble heart" of the "sweet prince" that his friend Horatio speaks of at play's end (V.2.396).

Aside #2: Notice the extent of the similarities between the scene where the ghost of Old Hamlet intervenes to protect Gertrude from Hamlet's rage (III.4.118-159) and the scene in Macbeth (III.4.59-129) where the ghost of Banquo appears (but only to Macbeth) at the banquet. Compare Lady Macbeth's reaction to her husband's behavior with Gertrudes reaction to her son's.

Aside #3: Don't overlook the tools for teaching Hamlet mentioned in my post "Teachers' Resources on Shakespeare."

Tragic Heroes

Aristotle’s definition of tragedy, the tragic hero, the tragic flaw, and the tragic fall, has survived pretty well. It is not always the rule that great or small playwrights follow, but it remains the standard against which their forays into tragedy are judged, or at least compared. Shakespeare was very willing to violate some of Aristotle’s precepts, especially as his career progressed, but that gives us no less reason to understand what the great Greek philosopher wrote in the first place, based on his observations of the considerable body of tragedy that he was privileged to witness in his lifetime.

To start simply with the tragic hero himself, Aristotle said that he must be both great and good. By “great,” he meant a man in a high position such as a king or a general. He reasoned that the tragic fall of a lesser man will not sufficiently engage the attention or emotions of the audience. In the greater scheme of things (cf. the medieval idea of the Great Chain of Being) he wouldn’t be falling very far. [In modern times, Arthur Miller mounted a very conscious challenge to this idea with his play Death of a Salesman and his essay Tragedy and the Common Man. The salesman’s wife delivers a heart-tugging statement of Miller’s premise in her “I’m not saying he’s a great man…” speech.]

By “good,” he meant a man of sufficient moral quality that we will lament, “What a loss!” when his fall comes. The fall of a villain is just what we expect and desire; it does not teach the moral lesson that the Greeks were trying to teach in their dramas. (The Greeks, remember, used their plays for religious reasons, as acts of worship to the god Dionysus—not that Dionysus was a particularly “moral” god!—so moral improvement was to be the goal of worthwhile scripts.) We think of ourselves as good, so we will identify best with a good hero and take warning that if he falls, we might also unless we beware.

However, this good man must have a serious moral flaw that will contribute powerfully to his downfall. The more clearly the audience members can identify this flaw and see its consequences, the better they will be morally instructed about that particular flaw. So here is the fulcrum of the delicate balance that made a great tragedy in Aristotle’s view. The flaw had to be a grievous one yet the hero had to be, on balance, good. This required that external factors must also contribute to the fall. These could include coincidence or accident, villainy on the part of others, etc. The delicate balance is that too much tragic flaw makes the hero too close to a villain, and too much external factor weakens or destroys the “moral lesson” aspect. My extreme example of the latter is that a good, great man at the height of his virtue is walking down a sidewalk and is killed by a flowerpot falling from a fourth-floor window.

Tragic flaws are not just moral slip-ups or particular unwise choices. They must be deeply-rooted flaws in character, not individual sins but a malignant core of sin that metastasizes to take harmful control of a man’s life. The most common example in the Greek tragedies, and certainly represented among Shakespeare’s heroes also, is “hubris,” the Greek word for a titanic level of pride that challenges even “the gods.” King Leontes in the first half of the tragicomedy A Winter’s Tale provides the most blatant of Shakespeare’s examples when he reluctantly consults the god Apollo’s oracle at Delphi to determine whether his charge of adultery against his queen is true, but then, when the god’s verdict in the queen’s favor is unsealed and read at her public trial, bellows, “There is no truth at all i’ th’ oracle. The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood.” (III.2.151-152) The divine retribution comes down on Leontes’ head immediately.

Other seemingly obvious flaws that bring about some of Shakespeare’s tragic heroes include Macbeth’s “ambition” in the negative sense of challenging God, and Othello’s “green-eyed monster,” jealousy. But even in these cases, Shakespeare makes sure the flaw is not as one-dimensional as it appears. Othello’s jealousy, for example, is definitely fueled by his insecurity and gullibility. But are these tragic flaws? And could the jealousy have grown without them?

Even more often, Shakespeare builds outright ambiguity into the question of his tragic hero’s flaw. Identifying Hamlet’s flaw has been a controversial exercise for centuries now. Indecision? Yes, but is that a moral failing? And what is Romeo’s tragic flaw? Acting too hastily on his first-sight youthful passion for Juliet by marrying within hours? His killing of Tybalt in a street brawl he had tried to avoid? Mistakes in judgment, but moral flaws worthy of death? King Lear’s flaw? Bad temper? Misjudging his daughters? Shakespeare complicates this one by giving us a tragic hero who is eighty years old and showing signs of senility from the beginning of the play. [Arthur Miller borrows from this device, complicating the tragic flaw question with his salesman’s mental state. A fair question: How responsible can people be for the deteriorating of their own minds?]

The ultimate tragic fall of the hero almost always includes his death. Sophocles’ Greek classic Oedipus the King is one exception, but only because the hero chooses something he considers worse than death rather than the expected suicide.

A Christian study of literary tragedy can be enriched by having students apply what they’re learning to the Bible’s account of King Saul in First Samuel chapters 9-11, 13-24, 26-29, 31.

Sexual Morality

Shakespeare's plays include elements of appropriate or inappropriate sexuality. Christians might be uneasy with some of these story lines, and feel that the overall body of Shakespeare's work sends mixed messages as to sexual morality.

One generalization I would offer is that Shakespeare sometimes implies a distinction between upper class characters and commoners with higher standards expected of the former, while lower standards for the latter might be assumed.

The exceptions among the upper class are treated as serious matters, often with weighty consequences. Hamlet takes his royal mother bitterly to task for her adulterous (by his society's standards) marriage to her brother-in-law (III.4.19-106). Juliet (III.5.216-255 and IV.1.51-90) is desperate to avoid violating her marriage as she has been advised to do by her nurse.

Even false accusations of fornication among the upper class are extremely serious when believed, whether in Shakespeare's comedies (Much Ado about Nothing IV.1.81-210) or tragedies (Othello IV.2.37-105). Yet in Much Ado, Borachio and Margaret seem to have something going on (II.2.12-49), as do Cassio and Bianca in Othello (IV.1.123-158), but these liaisons between commoners are treated as normal. Measure for Measure (the only Shakespeare play named from a verse of scripture, Matt. 7:2) deals with fornication and hypocrisy via a unique plot line in which the premature sexual union of a "nearlywed" couple is regarded as a mitigated sin in contrast with the immeasurably worse intentions of Angelo, the city's interim ruler.

All's Well that Ends Well offers another unique story in which a young nobleman brushes the boundaries of adultery. See my post on that play describing the two buffers between Shakespeare's general rule about sexual misconduct by the high-born and what actually happens. First, Bertram has already despairingly given up his title and considers himself ruined, virtually a dead man. Second, he never actually commits adultery although he fully intends to and just as fully believes he has! In the same play, notice the frequent words in praise of virginity and chastity. See also the modest propriety of Hermia, another nearlywed, under tempting circumstances in Midsummer Night's Dream (II.2.41-70).