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The Elizabethan tradition of Misrule came as a hugely enjoyable period of anarchy when the normal rules didn’t apply. It was a chance to let off steam, challenge convention and be rude. The hierarchy was tipped on its head – jesters became kings, men dressed as women, masters served their servants. The periods of licensed misrule in the Elizabethan era, the feasts and festivals of Easter, Mayday, Whitsuntide, Midsummer Eve and Hallowe’en were joyful revelry, and Twelfth Night was the biggest and most unruly of the lot.

Shakespeare sets a number of his plays during these moments of licensed anarchy. Misrule in Shakespeare is when men dress as women; when Malvolio in Twelfth Night wears his yellow cross garters, thinking his mistress has fallen for him; when the hierarchy becomes reversed. Malvolio is referred to in the play as a sort of Puritan, and Puritans were deeply uncomfortable with the concept of Misrule, making the disapproving Malvolio an ideal target for Toby Belch and Maria. Toby Belch represents the spirit of Misrule; he turns a Christmas night into a carnival with alcohol, singing, dancing and lechery. He is commanded to stop by the po-faced Malvolio and Belch counters him by using the phrase “cakes and ale” to describe beautifully his glory in Misrule. Poor old Malvolio is punished by Shakespeare, by ending up imprisoned and then kicked out of Illyria, but not before swearing to be revenged upon “the whole pack of you”.

Midsummer Night’s Dream also takes place in a mysterious, mystical and magical solstice out of time, but even Shakespeare’s history plays sometimes feature Misrule. The first part of Henry IV boasts Falstaff, a big, fat, disreputable anti-hero who rules over his alternative kingdom of the tavern in London’s East Cheap. Falstaff is one of Shakespeare’s liveliest Lords of Misrule (despite being a bore who’s slowly drinking himself to death).

Misrule still exists in pantomime – the eccentrically dressed Dame, the principal boy slapping her thigh, the audience involvement, innuendo laden ad libs and some sort of enormous creature (Mother Goose, Puss in Dick Whittington) capering around amidst things being thrown from the stage into the audience.

There isn’t much opportunity to be anarchic around traditional festivals these days. There’s an inevitability to the rituals of Christmas and Easter, and what we’ve lost is the element of joyful chaos. The Lord of Misrule is the ultimate disrupter – his sovereignty gives us a quick burst of anarchy that refreshes and revives, and gives us the energy to trudge on; back to work, back to school, back into the bleak winter.

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