In Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing," Leonato describes the villain Don John as having "a February face, so full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness."
To modern ears, that doesn't sound especially cruel. February, after all, is familiar — of course, power-outs are awful, but usually it means a blazing fire in the hearth, hot chocolate, maybe a snow day or two.
But in Shakespeare's England, it was a stinging insult.
During his lifetime, England was in one of the coldest phases of the so-called "Little Ice Age." February was often the most punishing month of winter, marked by sharp cold snaps, sleet, ice storms and fog-making frosts. Gray skies could linger for weeks. Sunlight was scarce. Warmth, even more scarce.
And homes offered little refuge. Peasants lived in thatched hovels. The wealthy and their servants fared only slightly better, huddled together in damp, unheated stone castles. Rich or poor, everyone worried whether food supplies would last until spring.
It's no wonder February was a season of hunger, illness, and short tempers. Epidemics flared periodically, including outbreaks of the bubonic plague, deepening fear and exhaustion. This was not a month that encouraged contentment.
Shakespeare often used the word "face" as a metaphor for temperament. So when Leonato says Don John has a face full of frost, storm and cloudiness, he isn't talking about weather. He's telling us this man is permanently cold — sour, joyless, and bitter to the core.
And here's my confession: I sometimes wear a February face myself.
This is despite a cozy home, down-filled coats, and more than enough to eat. What I lack in February is light — real, full-spectrum light. So on every sunny winter day, I make a point of going outside, turning my face toward the sky and letting optimism thaw me out.
Because February may still be cold — sometimes really cold — but it won't own our faces forever.
