Like I mentioned before, the Utah Shakespeare Festival has an annual symposium, called the Wooden O, that is a place where scholars meet to discuss Shakespeare and to share papers that they've submitted. Here's the second part of my proposed paper for the symposium, "Hooking Up and Marrying Down: Relationships in Shakespeare."
Marrying Down: Romeo and Juliet
Romeo and Juliet's eponymous heroine is a surprisingly capable and
thoughtful teenager, and certainly her Romeo's mental superior. Though perhaps
her age counts against her in the analyses of language and love (and the
language of love), she still provides a strong sense of capacity that many of
us are loathe to see wasted by the end of the play.
Sure, she is somewhat impetuous
about the marriage. If you've spent any significant amount of time in the
presence of teenagers, there's a pretty large problem with myopia when it comes
to emotional questions, even under normal circumstances. This is Shakespeare
giving a very young woman a robust vocabulary and a situation that feels as
large and complicated as the words she uses. That provides a worthwhile
contrast to her famous reflection:
JULIET
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet…
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself. (2.2)
Juliet's pursuit of better
understanding the world in which she's caught up is partially seen in this light
analysis of the arbitrariness of language. That she is wholly
linguistic--particularly on the page, but in many ways in what she is best
remembered for--is also of significance. Moreover, it's important to note that
Juliet's superior thinking is rendered throughout the play in her strong grasp
of language and the interplay of words to worlds. According to Shakespeare300,
Romeo's lines occupy 20% of the play, while Juliet comes in second at 18%.
Though there are comparatively few roles for women in Shakespeare, it's
noteworthy that Juliet has something to say, and she's given the time and space
in which to say it.
Scouring the play, we see little
inwardness or contemplative impulses in the male lead. We get postures of bravery
after attempts at reconciliation, and Romeo does seem inclined to consider that
Tybalt, now being family, ought to be treated the same as any Montague would
be. But there's an emotional distance to Romeo in everything save sexuality,
while the life-brightening power of love permeates Juliet. Her playful banter
with Nurse is enhanced by the childish wonder that she observes later, after
having married Romeo but not yet having consummated the marriage.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. (3.2)
The interweaving
of her age (choosing the childlike simile) and her awakening sexuality
(discussing the promised pleasures of a nuptial bed) speaks to a subtlety in
Shakespeare's art, but one that sits uneasily on a modern reader. The
twenty-first century has pretty strict rules and mores about what is age
appropriate for sex and marriage, but the sixteenth century's version was a
little less ambiguous. While it's known that Juliet's age is hardly marriage-appropriate
(Ruth Goodman argues that twenty-four is the preferred age for women in Tudor
times (120), while Liza Picard puts it between twenty-five and twenty-six (176))
it's also clear that her age is not designed to be titillating. Instead, it's
explanatory. Many of Shakespeare's characters make foolish choices, but for
Juliet, her error is her inexperience at living.
At the same time, however,
there's a lot to be said about her enthusiasm for life. Perhaps she isn't in
"true love" with Romeo--that she's impetuous and young and foolish
and mistaken between infatuation and love--but she is having real and honest
feelings. Lacking the experience of what those feelings should be--and what
they can turn into--Juliet understandably gets in over her head.
This raises the question of what
is lost by aging up Juliet by more than just a few years. A thirty-something
Juliet isn't in the same place as the teenaged one, any more than a
twenty-something Juliet resonates on a different level, too. By making both
lovers far too young to be ready for the large step that marriage is,
Shakespeare can, in some ways, critique the practice itself (which, as some
scholars argue, he found disapprobation with, as many believe his own marriage
to be cold, long distanced, and loveless). What is the purpose of a high and
holy status if it isn't good for youth? Where should the line be drawn?
Shakespeare, shotgun-married at age 18, was obviously familiar with the
workings of teenage hormones. Perhaps there are echoes of mishandling sexual
education in the play. After all, according to Goodman, sex in marriage was
"something to be looked forward to by the young and as yet unmarried, and
something that both men and women had a right to expect" (266). But maybe
the onerous requirements of the marriage state were not carefully enough
cultivated in the community at large.
Indeed, part of the tragedy that
Shakespeare has crafted comes from the realization that poor parenting is a
part of the blame. Note the Prince at the close of the play:
Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love… (5.3)
Who was supposed
to guide her toward a "true" love, if Romeo is so unsatisfactory of a
mate? Her parents, obviously, but they do allow their enmity--and, in Capulet's
case, his rage--to cloud the possibilities of any alternatives. Of course,
Juliet and her Romeo deserve some blame for their tragedy, as does the enabling
behavior of the Friar. The Prince is right: "All are punish'd" (5.3).
Of course, the question of
whether or not Juliet "married down" is still at play here. The fact
that she ended up as the sheath for her own dagger is indication that, in some fairly
fundamental ways, Romeo failed her as a husband. But more than that, Romeo's
"Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" (2.2) is perhaps the most
important characteristic of him. The satisfaction he's seeking, of course, is a
sexual one, which Juliet demurs quite adroitly. But he truly looks not with his
eyes, as the Friar observes (2.3), but with a different organ. Physical
attraction is not a disqualifier for a worthwhile spouse, but Romeo's romance
is all about wooing. Juliet seeks a more permanent relationship, something that
all could understand.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun (3.2)
Romeo hopes to
get into Juliet's pants; she's hoping to get him into the pantheon of pagan
gods. He desires a date; she seeks his apotheosis. It's this difference in expectation
of the relationship that differentiates the two characters. While both are
making the mistakes of youth, Romeo's thoughts rarely ascend above the waist.
Juliet's, however, wander among the clouds and stars.