Saucy Siblings

A coupling of my favorite Shakespearean siblings

Welcome to the first installment of Horny Shakespeare and Other Literary Nonsense. As most of you know, my interests lie in two realms — sexuality and literature — and its even better when they cross over. Sex is literally everywhere, all the time, but I didn’t realize how sexy Shakespeare and other writers in the Early Modern period could be until I took that one fateful course in college (we all have one). My new goal in life, post that course, is to bring people to the light, remove their blinders as mine were, and show them that Shakespeare’s work isn’t boring and difficult, but hilarious and overtly sexual — something we can all get behind.

Siblings in Shakespeare’s world are vital. Usually, they can be considered opposites, especially if one is a bastard and the other is legitimate. They can, at times, be considerate to each other, but what we mostly see in these plays are siblings pitted against each other. From sons and daughters and mixes of both, the siblings in these plays are either fighting for recognition from their parents, generally fighting over their parent’s land and resources, and ever now and again sometimes sleeping together (there had be some inspiration for Cersei and Jamie Lannister). Out of his 33 plays, there are many, many siblings to choose from but I wanted to narrow it down to my favorite pairs (or trio) to highlight the different reasons siblings are important to their own stories.

The Triad

My first favorite group of siblings is a trio — Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia of King Lear. If you’ve ever read this play, you’ve probably been taught that Goneril and Regan, the two oldest daughters, are the villains of the play, but I urge you to reconsider. Lear begins the play by auctioning off his land and resources as King to the daughter who loves him the most. The two older sisters do as they’re told and tell Lear how much they love him for their inheritance. Lear has no son, so passing down his title is complicated. Instead of making sure his daughters get everything they need to continue fruitful lives, Lear pits the sisters against each other, to fight for him. Talk about a toxic and narcissistic parent.

So it begins and with it, the family dynamic crumbles. Goneril and Regan are instantly cast to the evil side, Lear plays the ill victim, and Cordelia bails (more on that in a second). Lear begins his descent into madness as he is bounced from Goneril’s home to Regan’s where he is kicked out again. You see, Lear has brought his entire army and cabinet men to his new home. They are constantly drunk and singing, breaking things and truly being asshats. Goneril and Regan understandably so, don’t want their shit fucked up by a man turning back into a baby mentally. So they kick their father out, that’s another strick against them. Around this time we learn of the affairs with Edmund (Edmund is the illegitimate son of Gloucester and half-brother to Gloucester’s legitimate son, Edgar, adding another pair of siblings to the mix). They become suspicious of each other, like when Regan claims Goneril gave Edmund “strange oeillades [armourous glances] and most speaking looks” (4.4.29–30). Later on, they will physically fight over the man.

Let’s return to Cordelia for a moment, when Cordelia bails and we don’t see her for the majority of the play, she has infiltrated France, seduced the king, convinces him to marry her so she’s now the Queen of France. Thanks to this, she has the entire French army on her side as she returns to the play, ready to fight her sisters and Edmund for Lear’s power. She calls her enemies war tactics “blown ambition” indicating to me that she has had this planned all along (4.4.29). She is far too cocky to have all of this happen by chance because if she defeats her sisters and Edmund’s men, she will obtain her father’s power on top of her sway as the fucking Queen of France. But this play is a tragedy, so of course, that’s not how it will end for them. Cordelia is captured and thrown into jail, alongside her father. She claims she will “Repair those violent harms that my two sisters / Have in they reference made” but she won’t get the chance (4.6.30–31). Hungry for justice, Edmund orders Cordelia to be killed (and have it look like a suicide oddly enough). Soon after this, a messenger brings word that Goneril has poisoned Regan and then stabbed herself. What a fucking mess. When Lear, who somehow survived all of this, sees his daughters’ bodies before him, he (as we all could have surmised) cries over Cordelia and not the other two. He “howls” and cries “She’s gone for ever! / I know when one is dead and when one lives: / She’s dead as earth” (5.3.265 and 267–68). The three sisters have been pitted against each other their entire lives and as all four age, the tension has gotten worse. Add in an attractive and manipulative man and you’ve got a great mix of fighting, hysterical women, but only because their father made them that way. (Please know that King Lear is hella long and I totally glossed over some major plot points so if any of that sounds wrong to you more experienced readers — I was trying to make a point give me a break!)

The Incestual

Since I’m focusing all about Shakespeare being horny, you know I can’t leave out the sexual relationships. The grossest sibling pairing is Ophelia and Laertes of Hamlet. Now Hamlet actually has an additional pair of siblings: Hamlet’s father, the recently deceased king, and his brother/murderer/usurper, Claudius. Gotta love the jealous spare heir. While there are definitely things to discuss about them, these brothers aren’t as fun to talk about as incest. Hamlet and his treatment of his “girlfriend” who then “drowns” is a major plot point, but what is often overlooked are the family members in command of Ophelia. During this period, a woman is never in control of herself. When she’s a child, her father commands her, he picks out her suitors and ultimately decides whom she marries. Once the marriage is made legal, the father metaphorically and physically transfers his daughter into her new husband’s hands. This man is now in charge of her, capable of commanding her.

Since Ophelia isn’t married (yet), her father has control over her, but he is accompanied by an also overbearing brother, Laertes. In Act 1, Scene 3, the two are speaking about Laertes’ leaving (he’s going overseas to fight in the war). Laertes warns his sister to be smart around the admiring Hamlet, by reminding her of the most precious gift, her virginity which he compares to “A violet in the youth of primy nature” (1.3.8). He reminds Ophelia that while Hamlet might love her now, he could just as easily stop, so she needs to be smart with her “not permanent” and “sweet, not lasting” virginity (1.3.9). Seems her brother is a little too interested in his sister’s sex life. It only gets weirder when Polonius joins the conversation saying he is also worried about her “honour” (1.3.101). To them, she is just a pawn to control and perhaps more — Polonius constantly mentions his daughter’s obedience to him. She will do anything for him. She will do anything for her family. The relationship Ophelia has with her father and brother is intimate at best, gross at worst so much so that when Polonius is killed (spoiler: by Hamlet), she loses it. She notes how fragile her “wits” are to “an old man’s life’ (4.4.169–70).

Laertes returned from the frontlines when Polonius was killed and laments:

And so have I a noble father lost,
A sister driven into desperate terms,
Who has — if praises may go back again —
Stood challenger on mount of all the age
For her perfections but my revenge will come. (4.6.27–31)

He summarizes his feelings about his father’s death, very proudful, very respectful. But when his sister has a mental breakdown (she’s not dead yet at this point), he has a lot to say. He reminisces on how she has been a “challenger,” standing proud, and staying perfect. My last evidence of this X-rated relationship is when Ophelia is dead. Laertes’ recognition of her death, before she is never mentioned again,

Laertes claims he will not cry for his dead sister, seemingly dismissing her death with a wave of his hand, it bothers him not. He says “when these are gone, / The woman will be out” (4.6.174–75). According to the footnotes in my editions, defines the part “woman will be out” to mean “the woman in me will be finished.” Once all of this is over, he will have forgotten about his sister. Yet this definition also suggests penetration, but with Laertes being penetrated, and by her being “finished,” he is dismissive of her death. Once I have gotten my revenge, I will be done with her. Why the sudden change of heart, Laertes? One could even suggest that this statement deals with gender-identity as well, but I’d rather move onto my final Shakespeare siblings.

The Twins

One of the more interesting sibling relationships is one where the two are barely together in their play. In Twelfth Night we have the main character, Viola and her twin, Sebastian. Twins are automatically more complicated because they’re more than siblings, they are connected by their shared experience in their mother’s womb. When the play begins, Viola is clinging to her ship, caught in a storm that threw her brother overboard. Understandably so, Viola is worried about her brother, but the captain assures Viola that he saw Sebastian gripped “To a strong mast that lived upon the sea” (1.2.14). We can assume or at least hope that he is still alive (spoiler, he is). As they sail, they approach an island, Illyria, which is ruled by Duke Orsino. Viola believes her brother to be on the island, or at least will be able to get help, so she decides to stop and contact the duke. But, since this is Shakespeare, this needs to be more complicated. Instead of simply stepping off her ship and seeking help, Viola asks her captain to “Conceal me for what I am, and be my aid / For such disguise as haply shall become / The form of my intent. I’ll serve the duke” (1.2.55–57). She will infiltrate the Duke’s establishment by disguising herself as a man, more or less as her twin brother, while we (the audience) still don’t know his location. Perhaps Viola believes that since she is a woman, she won’t receive the same respect and urgency as a man, however when she successfully becomes close to the Duke, she never mentions her missing brother.

So where is Sebastian? He was saved by Antonio, another sea-captain, and is located perhaps on the other side of the island. Enter my favorite topic, homoeroticism. This play is just filled with gender questioning and same-sex relationships, beginning with Sebastian and Antonio. Once Sebastian is healed enough from his harrowing experience, he must leave their sweet cave, much to Antonio’s remorse because he believes Viola drowned in the wreckage. He speaks highly of her, mentioning that they resemble each other, and that “she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair” (2.2.24–25). They both are worried about their twin, convinced they are dead already.

Let’s fast forward for a moment through Act 3 where we get the main plotline, Viola wooing Orsino as disguised as a man (named Cesario). Naturally this derives much homoerotic readings that are just great, but not my conversation here. We go the rest of the play with Sebastion and Viola never meeting until the end. They begin to cross paths where other characters of the play mistake them for the other. Their reunion is, naturally so, emotional. Viola imagines Sebastian is a “spirit” come to “fright” them because she believes her brother is dead (5.1.236). If this person before him actually his sister, Sebastian would “should my tears let fall upon your cheek, / And say ‘Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!” (5.1.242–43). After donning a different personality throughout most of the play, Viola only takes off her disguise for her brother, saying it will make “us happy both” (5.1.251). From there, everything rights itself. Sebastian is with Olivia (after mistaking him for Cesario earlier on) and Viola is with Orsino, who had more or less been falling in love with Cesario, another homoerotic reading.

I could have gone so many different angles with siblings — in King Lear is another pair of siblings, the legitimate son of Gloucester, Edgar and his illegitimate brother, Edmund. There are loads more cases of a brother usurping, desiring to usurp, unsuccessfully usurping his brother/king, and while timely for them, is pretty run of the mill now. Which is why I chose these pairs of siblings; they’re more complex and are somehow connected more often than not, to sexuality and all it encompasses. Hope you enjoyed!