By Sarah Hajkowski
The Bard weighs in on whether absence really does make the heart grow fonder, and how if. Centuries-old spoilers ahead.
With the network of communication expanding ever further in this 21st century, long-distance romances are an increasingly common phenomenon at all ages. According to recent statistics, 14 million couples in the United States are in a long-distance relationship, and "about 75% of engaged couples have been (at some point) in a long-distance relationship."
Individuals within and outside of long-distance relationships alike can see where some of the challenges would be in carrying on a long-distance love. Intimacy, communication, and quality time together are just a few aspects of a relationship naturally affected in a situation where the partners cannot always share the same physical space (HelpLine Counseling).
Love across a long milespan though, is anything but new. Dante and his immortal Beatrice, King Henry VIII, and American fore-parents John and Abigail Adams wrote and sighed to fill the absence of their love when separated by great distances. And considering Shakespeare, his lovers certainly have insights of their own on what works and what doesn't. This analysis examines three complicated love stories for their comments on the great LDR.
Romeo & Juliet: Keep Things in Perspective
Well, these two are seldom a model for anything. They speak some of the most storied and beautiful passages about love in all of the Bard’s works, and their first words to each other are indeed a perfect sonnet. But for all they make up in flowery metaphors and yearning panoramas, they lack in going the distance.
“Heaven is here/Where Juliet lives…
And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?”
(Romeo, Act 3. Scene 3)
Well, at sixteen it is even easier to feel a separation from one’s love as the end of the world. At twenty-three, at thirty, at sixty-five that strength of emotion is still reachable. Juliet might be excused in canon as her years are even fewer at 13. Still, both of them share a first impulse, namely the theatrical intent for suicide if they must be separated.
Staying in proportion is vital.
First, Romeo has hastily forgotten that in their time, lovers were frequently separated by distance: whether for the sake of war, education, exploration, or more sinister plots to see one partner married off. Half a pair might be stolen away to enter servitude or take religious orders. Even Kings and Queens were not untouched by the demands that could “exile” a person temporarily from their partner. In a more extreme degree said royals might be married before meeting their perfect match, driven apart forever by laws of propriety and constrained by the limitations of an unconsummated “courtly love.”
Too there is the matter of perspective. Verona’s factions of Montague and Capulet are policed “on pain of torture” (1.1) and more than one supporter on Team Capulet has called for the death of Romeo to answer the death of their kin Tybalt. Friar Lawrence has the presence of mind to identify this, urging, “Tybalt would kill thee, / But thou slewest Tybalt: there art thou happy. / The law that threatened death becomes thy friend” (3.3). Still, Romeo will not hear of it, which leads to perhaps the worst coping mechanism for a long-distance romance in the play, The Plot™.
Long-distance lovers of today, please, if a trusted mentor offers a strange vial to make its drinker seem dead, and plots to store half a couple in the family mausoleum till their lover comes – and furthermore doesn’t even employ his most trustworthy colleague to deliver news of the whole plot –do not take it! If feeling the strain of long distance to the point that it hurts their mental health, one should know that help is available, and not take any potions.
Macbeth: Communicate Regularly
“Thy letters have transported me beyond / This ignorant present, and I feel now / The future in the instant” (Lady Macbeth, 1.5)
A relationship reality too often glossed over is that regular communication is, indeed, crucial. Distance only makes this more so. “It's important to talk regularly, share your thoughts and feelings openly, and listen to your partner's needs,” according to Calm.com, clinically reviewed by Dr. Chris Mosunic, PhD, RD, CDCES, MBA.
With the sharing of thoughts and feelings, a couple (or any romantic network) hopefully stays on the same page about their future plans together. Ignoring the whole ending of the play, Lady M and her Mackers clearly stay connected even when they cannot be in physical proximity to one another.
For those unfamiliar, the plot of Macbeth includes killing one’s way to the top, a banquet haunted by the specters of one’s actions, and machinations of the supernatural. As such there are no guarantees that the relationship between the titular Macbeths, or even the Macbeths themselves, survive. Still, there are signs that in their assuredly unhealthy dynamic together, the emotional efforts of a healthy loving pair persist.
After Macbeth and his Lady survive their ghostly banquet, they are only further plagued by conscience and cease meaningful communication with one another. One stops short of asserting that a couple’s counselor could prevent the ending of Shakespeare’s Scottish play, but only just. It transpires that Lady M is under a doctor’s care not speaking sense any more, haunted by remembering the play’s earlier events and their guilt. Macbeth himself is conversely obsessed with protecting their ill-gotten gains from Macduff and Malcolm. A servant of the house ultimately delivers the news that Lady Macbeth has died.
“She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.” -Macbeth, 5.5
When partners are separated, one of the crucial patterns to avoid is lapsing into non-disclosure to each other. Even in death, Macbeth refuses to accept the true timing of communications around Lady M, and he winds up having his head cut off and ceremonially presented to Scotland’s new king. There’s no telling what troubles can arise in a couple’s deteriorating into mutual silence, but the prevention is as plain as it is vital.
Two Gentlemen of Verona: Find Independence with Hobbies
If Shakespeare’s early, often disquieting comedy of the Two Gentlemen teaches anything, it’s that love across long distances can lead to much ruminating and spiraling. One answer is keeping busy and getting joy out of life by other means.
“Independence in a relationship is an essential factor in the couple's success…having their own interests and hobbies can make for a healthier relationship,” Jamie Bronstein (LCSW) told Brides.
In Two Gentlemen of Verona, Valentine and Proteus test their friendship when Proteus abandons his first love, Julia, for Valentine’s beloved, Sylvia. Valentine and Sylvia plan to elope because her father, the Duke of Milan, would rather she marry his pompous chum, Thurio. Long-distance romances are endured by Valentine and Sylvia, and by Julia, then Proteus, one-sidedly.
Well, Proteus’ problem isn’t in the frequency of his communication. The issue is of quality, not quantity, he fails to reflect or be affected by his audience.
As many have identified, a record number of letters are written, delivered, torn up, and switched out in the course of Two Gentlemen of Verona. Shakespeare scholar Frederick Kiefer assesses that, “Proteus becomes increasingly carried away with the prospect of what the written word can accomplish. He tells Thurio: ‘Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears / Moist it again…’ (3.2)” (Shakespeare studies, p. 77)
Effectively one activity Proteus takes up to be his hobby is letter-writing. The only problem with that is its co-dependent slant.
He is finding a hobby, but that hobby is obsessively scheming to put himself and Sylvia together. He has made Silvia his sole interest. Flattering? Perhaps–if one squints hard and learns to love a lie. Yet it is not a healthy coping strategy for long-distance relationships by any stretch of the imagination.
It’s possible then that Proteus and Julia are meant for each other. Julia discovers in herself a knack for disguise, concealing herself as a servant called Sebastian to find out what Proteus is up to in Milan and endeavor to win him back. While she does look pretty cute in a beard (“I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.” 5.4), Julia is not what one could call independent of her changeable Proteus.
And finally, Valentine is rather thrust into his “hobby” by joining a band of forest outlaws after being banished, but he makes the best of it.
“FIRST, then SECOND OUTLAW: you are beautified / …by your own report / A linguist, and a man of such perfection / …Are you content to be our general /…And live as we do in this wilderness?” (4.1).
When life gives out lemons…become captain of the city’s outcasts? At any rate, the offer which these outlaws tensely make to Valentine gives him something to do until Sylvia runs onstage, pursued by a Proteus acting problematic-at-best. And in most stagings, Val gets a cool hat.
Twelfth Night, or What You Will: Accept Termination with Fairness
Orsino, just stop, dude. Move on.
About the Writer
Sarah Hajkowski is a poet, playwright, and journalist based on the East Coast, USA. In addition to Erato, she is a writer on Medium.com, publishes plays to NPX: New Play Exchange, and freelances as a theatre artist. If not writing, she will be listening to music, watching horror movies, and connecting with likeminded humans.
Find out more at sarahhajkowski.com and reach out on social media.
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