True Friendship in A Midsummer Night’s Dream

I have always loved Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, ever since I first read it in my high school drama class. Perhaps I was drawn to it initially because it is considerably shorter and more easily understood than many of his other works; perhaps it was the magical and other-worldly nature of the tale that attracted me. Knowing myself as a teenage boy, I can say with relative certainty that I loved the mischievous fairies, Bottom’s transformation into a donkey, and the frequent ensuing “ass” jokes. It may also have helped that my drama teacher cast me as Puck, the troublesome fairy who delights in chaos and confusion. I still don’t know whether she did that because I was a fun-loving troublemaker myself, or it was simply a happy accident.  Either way, due credit must be given to my drama teacher, who obviously knew how to get teenagers invested in reading Shakespeare! Well done, Mrs. Bushnell. I aspire one day to be half the teacher you are, and hope that my work inspires future generations to love great literature as you inspired me.

In any case, I found the play thoroughly enjoyable as a tale of romantic love gone hilariously wrong; thus have I always remembered it, and thus I believe it has been beloved through the centuries since its composition. Therefore, I was rather surprised when I was rereading it some years ago and discovered a profoundly insightful passage about friendship between individuals of the same sex. Now, I have read and reread enough of Shakespeare not to be surprised by his profundity. He has taught me about true love, constancy, self-sacrifice, leadership, courage, folly, hatred, vengeance, mortality, and duty, among other priceless things. However, I did not expect a lesson in friendship from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Here it is worth quoting the passage at length. This is from Act III, Scene 2, wherein Hermia’s two suitors have just professed their undying love for Helena, as a result of the fairies’ meddling. Because of this, Helena has come to believe that she is being mocked by her childhood companion, Hermia. Helena then delivers the following speech:

Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoined all three
To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.—
Injurious Hermia! Most ungrateful maid!
Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us—oh, is it all forgot?
All schooldays’ friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry—seeming parted
But yet an union in partition—
Two lovely berries molded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies but one heart,
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient love asunder
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly.
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.

This brief passage has a great deal to tell us about true friendship, and its teaching goes far beyond Helena’s anger and sense of injury at Hermia’s perceived betrayal. She tells us here about the great deal of conversation that occurs between good friends (“all the counsel that we two have shared”), the amount of time they invest in one another (“the hours that we have spent”), and the intense enjoyment they feel in each other’s company (“When we have chid the hasty-footed time / For parting us”). Are these not all vital elements in friendship, indeed, in any close relationship? Have not all dear friends felt time too “hasty-footed” when they were forced to say farewell? I certainly have, and I hope my friends have felt the same way when we parted.

It may be that these three qualities (time, talk, and joy) are, in fact, the essence of friendship. I cannot think of a close companion I have had at any time during my many years with whom I did not spend a significant amount of my life; I would even say that the longer I have spent with someone, the closer we have become. This statement needs qualification, certainly: some people get on my nerves more the longer we spend together. Sometimes this is mitigated or even reversed by talking; sometimes, as we reveal ourselves to one another through conversation, I come to like someone to whom I was originally indifferent or even averse. Again, I hope that is true for others and their feelings toward me, as well! I know, however, that occasionally the very opposite takes place: the more I speak with someone, the more I dislike them, even if I was originally drawn to them. Alas, this is the one response I know for sure I have engendered in others from time to time! This is why joy is also essential. Whenever I have spent time with a person, conversed with them at length, and found joy in their presence, I have felt a bond with that person and a desire to call him or her my friend.

This bond, fostered and strengthened over time, can grow into unity. Unity is what Helena describes so beautifully and poetically, and why she feels so bitter that Hermia would seemingly “rent [their] ancient love asunder.” She describes various contributing factors to this unity: physical closeness (“sitting on one cushion”), shared activity (“with our needles created both one flower”), and choral singing (“warbling one song, both in one key”). These three enhance and advance the connection formed by time, talk, and joy, allowing friendship to blossom into oneness. Perhaps you have experienced this phenomenon yourself after taking a road trip with someone, completing a project or playing a sport together, or singing hymns (or Christmas carols, or rock songs) side-by-side. There is something about the synchronized and synchronizing nature of these activities that draws us closer to one another; perhaps it is that they foster growth in us individually and corporately.

Whatever the ultimate cause, the resulting condition is a deeper unity between friends: “So we grew together, / Like to a double cherry—seeming parted / But yet an union in partition…with two seeming bodies but one heart.” Is this not what we desperately need today?  Bridges of unity joining us to our neighbors despite our apparent divisions? We need now, more than ever, to spend time with those from whom we feel divided, whether politically, religiously, racially, or socially. We should talk with them face-to-face, looking for and being open to joy in our interactions. We should seek out meaningful moments of deeper connection with them, so that we may grow together. If we do, we may just find that we share “an union in partition” even with those we formerly considered our enemies, and this union will make it all the harder to scorn, deride, or injure one another. What a beautiful and worthy goal for which to strive! May we do so and may we attain our aim, by the grace of the One Who tore down the dividing wall of hostility and brought together those who were separated in Himself.

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