As You Like It - Orlando

When a lover is in madly in love, a lover turns to poetry to give their passions voice. There is something about poetry that draws out the romantic in many of us, and love is a fit topic for the flights and fancies of poetry. Though why do we turn to poetry? Poetry is the pinnacle of language use. It is the toughest, most compressed, most demanding form of language, and a great poem will perfectly capture our thought, emotion, and passion in a concise, precise, and graceful way. When we hear such craftsmanship, our hearts swoon, and we stop everything to hear what is being said - because it truly matters. This type of love poetry is difficult to come by, but it is truly moving when one does.

This type of expression is one of the lessons that Orlando must learn and come to terms with.  In Act I Scene II, after Orlando bests Charles the wrestler, he his approached by the Rosalind and Celia. Both women show their affections for the strapping young man, and pleasantries are exchanged. Orlando, however, is dumbfounded in this brief exchange, and when we should speak he finds he cannot:

     Can I not say 'I thank you'? My better parts
     Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up
     Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.

Even though Orlando chastises himself here, and finds he is not as eloquent as he wishes, he is not without poetry. His language is still in pentameter (which is appropriate because he is still at court and experiencing a moment of love), and his language is a  mixture of iambs, anapests, and spondees. Moreover, he speaks in metaphor as he compares his good qualities to fallen posts and his speechlessness to a lifeless block. We see a surprised Orlando who is a novice in the manners and habits of love and courtship. Orlando experiences what many of us feel when faced with a powerful emotion we don't quite understand, nor know how to express, and that speechlessness is the first sign of someone in love. While Orlando doesn't have love language yet at his disposal, all the building blocks (pentameter, variation, metaphor, strong emotion that needs to be shared, and speechlessness) are at his (and Rosalind's) disposal.

Whether it is love or poetry, any novice is going to make mistakes before they get better. A lot of them. Orlando is no exception. In Act III, Scene II, after Orlando has experienced the beauty and otherworldliness of the forest of Arden for a time, he hangs love poems to Rosalind on trees.This is a sweet gesture by a young man who is overcome with strong emotions and is compelled to share that with the whole forest. The problem is, well, his poems are not very good:

     'From the east to western Inde,
      No jewel is like Rosalinde.
      Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
      Through all the world bears Rosalinde.
      All the pictures fairest lin'd
      Are but black to Rosalinde.
      Let no face be kept in mind
      But the fair of Rosalinde.'

The West Indies...Orlando's idea of beauty?

In disbelief, Rosalind reads this aloud to Touchstone and Corin, and clearly enunciates the awful rhyme on her name between "wind" and "lin'd". End rhyme is the most striking feature of this poem, and it feels very deliberate, as if one is trying too hard. Now, that can be ok, but here the rhymes are so obvious, ring so loudly, and place so much unnecessary weight on the words, that this rhyming becomes far too simple, tedious, and artless (which Touchstone picks up on and pokes fun at). The similes and metaphors Orlando uses too are obvious. Rosalind is as beautiful as the West Indies
, she is like a bird in the air, and pretty pictures don't compare to Rosalind's beauty in reality - not much unique to say there. This poem, too, has a "false gallop" as Touchstone says: it is written in a trochees, not iambs, a meter unsuited for such a grand topic as love.

Though, hope is not lost. While Orlando shows raw ability that requires cultivation, maybe poetry just isn't his thing, perhaps he and his love are better suited for prose:

     Rosalind. I might ask you for your commission; but- I do take thee,
     Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the priest;
     and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.
     Orlando. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd.
     Rosalind. Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have possess'd her.
     Orlando. For ever and a day.  
     Rosalind. Say 'a day' without the 'ever.'

 
At this point, one act later, Rosalind has increased her instruction, and her tutelage is working. Orlando has one reply that is witty, metaphoric, concise, and downplays gender stereotypes, and one reply that is sappy, overwrought, and cliche. His prose seems in better shape than some of his poetry, and his prose even has elements of poetry, but it is clear that his love-language isn't perfect yet. It will take work, but Orlando can refine his language, his passion, and his intellect to create some subtle, artful phrasings that will please the Rosalind he is learning to woo.

The essential question for Orlando is not whether to use poetry or prose for love language, but rather how and when to use poetry. Poetry that is too obvious can by cloying, yet poetry that is too prosy can be unsatisfying. Balance is needed between many elem
ents, and Orlando learns to be aware of his audience and the context of his speech, and, eventually, his language use becomes more mature and sophisticated. As in many things in life, timing is crucial, and if we aren't prepared to act appropriately when the time is right, we could miss out on something altogether wonderful. Thankfully for us, Orlando has had a great tutor and can take advantage of his new found eloquence.