The last scene. The last entry. Sadness.

ACT V SCENE II

Finally, we’ve reached the end of Hamlet. Not that I didn’t enjoy the process of getting there, I just feel like this is a big *finally* moment for me, since this is a story that I’ve heard about all my life without knowing the actual details - that is, until today.

Shakespeare seems to have an obsession with death, evidenced by his tendency to have his characters just die all together in this one dog pile at the end of the play:

Romeo and Juliet
Romeo kills Paris
Romeo sees “dead” Juliet and drinks poison
Juliet wakes up and finds Romeo dead. Stabs self.
Dead pile consists of Paris, Romeo, and Juliet (Before this we have Mercutio and Tybalt dead)

Othello
Othello kills Desdemona
Iago kills Emilia
Othello kills self
(There’s also a movie adaptation of Othello that I’ve seen with Iago committing suicide right after Othello. They all die on Desdemona’s bed.)
Dead pile consists of  Desdemona, Emilia, Othello, (and in the movie, Iago)

And now Hamlet
Gertrude drinks cup of poison and consequently dies
Hamlet kills Claudius
Laertes, wounded by his own poisoned sword, dies
Hamlet dies
Dead pile consists of Gertrude, Claudius, Laertes, and Hamlet (Before this we have King Hamlet, Polonius, Ophelia, and Rosencrantz & Guildenstern dead)

I’ve always heard from previous Hamlet-readers that it’s Shakespeare’s most death-ridden story. Counting the number of character casualties  in Hamlet compared to those of the other two Shakespearean works mentioned before, I can certainly see why they say this. Not only that, but Hamlet focused on the concept of death too, moreso than the others.

Browsing through my past blog entries, three themes are evidently portrayed throughout the whole story.

The first being (as I have mentioned before) – Death.

1. In Act I Scene V, we have the ghost of King Hamlet – who, now that I think of it, doesn’t make that much of an appearance after Act I – lamenting not only the end of his life, but the epilogue.

“Doomed for a certain term to walk the night
And for the day confined to fast in fires
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purged away…” (Act I scene v, 15-18)

2. In Act III Scene I, Hamlet launches his famous “To be or not to be” speech, noting how people would prefer to “draw [their] breath in pain” (Act V scene ii, 383) than to die, to plunge into the afterlife – the unknown.

“…dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others we know not of…” (Act III scene i, 86-90)

3. In Act IV Scene II, when asked of Polonius’ corpse’s whereabouts, Hamlet replies that he returned him to the dust.

“Compounded [the dead body] with dust, whereto ’tis kin.” (Act IV  scene ii, 6)
Which refers to the book of Genesis in the bible – “for dust thou art, and unto dust though shall return.”

4. In Act IV Scene III, when Hamlet is, again, asked of Polonius’ corpse’s whereabouts, only this time by King Claudius. I spent a whole blog entry dissecting this quote. You can find my conclusion & how it relates to death here.

“Not where [Polonius] eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service – two dishes but to one table. That’s the end.” (Act IV scene iii, 22-27)

5. In Act V Scene I, discussed in the previous blog entry, the characters discuss whether or not Ophelia deserves to have a Christian burial.

The second theme which I’ve noticed while scrolling through my past entries is Change. To be more specific, life’s flexibility – how circumstances can change, and how in turn, that affects the person. No human can be completely sure of his fate. A couple of characters establish this fact in different places in the play.

1. In Act I Scene III, when Laertes warns Ophelia against falling in love with Hamlet, saying that his attention for her is probably going to be short-lived anyway. He describes Hamlet’s love as:

“Forward, not permanent, sweet, but not lasting
The perfume and suppliance of a minute.
No more” (Act I scene iii, 9-11)

2. In Act I Scene IV, when Horatio advises Hamlet against following after the ghost, and expresses his fear that such an encounter will change his friend for the worst.

“What if it tempted you [Hamlet] toward the flood, my lord?
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
…And there assume some other horrible form
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
And draw you into madness?” (Act I scene iv, 77-82)

3. Act III Scene II is just ample with quotes that concern this theme.

“The world is not for aye, nor ’tis it strange
That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
For ’tis a question left us yet to prove
Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.” (Act III scene ii, 223-226)

“Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices are still overthrown;
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.” (Act III scene ii, 234-236)

4. In Act IV Scene V, when Ophelia appears to be talking nonsense but is actually sloshing around a lot of profound things.

“Lord, we know what we are, but know not
what we may be.” (48)

The third theme that I will mention is Ambition. What is ambition? According to dictionary.com, it means “to desire an end.” This is a word that really drive certain characters over the edge and has them bumping heads.

1. King Claudius was ambitious for King Hamlet’s position, so he killed his own brother for it.

2. King Hamlet & his son, Prince Hamlet, were ambitious for revenge, leading Hamlet into a situation in which he couldn’t trust anyone. Polonius was arguably ambitious for the spotlight.

3. Though I hate to admit to his flaws as he was one of my favorite characters, he was someone who always called for attention with his artful language and (SLIGHT) nosiness. Hamlet’s and Polonius’ ambitions collide, and Polonius ends up dead.

4. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern meet their end in a similar way considering that they were ambitious to obey the king’s orders and to be in the king’s favor, despite having to put an end to their own childhood friend’s life. They too die when betrayed by the one they planned to betray, Hamlet.

5. Laertes is ambitious to avenge his father’s death. He dies by his own poisoned sword.

6. Queen Gertrude was ambitious for a husband to protect her and love her after her first king’s death. Ironically, she is unintentionally poisoned by the very man she married.

In the end, a whole slew of people die, specifically because of their ambition. They died because “[their] wills and fates [did] so contrary run” (Act III scene ii, 234), because their desire for an end never came true.

Shakespeare truly knows what it means to write a “tragedy”, as he points out the sadness in life and in death. How humans have no power to control their own fates, how none of us know what’s on the “other side”, how people kill and die all because they all submitted to their human nature of wanting something, how no matter what you’ve done in your life, it seems as if you’ll only amount to nothing when your body is returned to the dust, etc.

Shakespeare offers no solutions to cope with these pains, or at least, none that I could find. I feel it’s almost impossible to give an answer everyone can be satisfied with anyways. That’s why Hamlet is considered to be the ultimate tragedy by some. Because it embodies these concepts that are truly tragic, in that we can’t do anything about them, in that there are no morals to learn because some of the wrongs committed are just instances of our selfish human nature.

It’s the tragedy of life, of how humans approach life, and how that life eventually comes to its end.

ACT V SCENE I

There’s this whole Christian-burial issue going on within this chapter that makes me think that Shakespeare is targeting the practices of the (Christian/Protestant/Anglican?) Church at the time. The gravedigger starts us off with the discussion by questioning in the very beginning, “Is [Ophelia] to be buried in Christian burial, when she willfully seeks her own salvation? … How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defense?” (1-2, 6-7)

To commit suicide is considered a sin in Christianity. Although I’m not entirely sure of the reasoning behind that concept in Hamlet’s time, I think it’s supposed to be because the suicide victim (well, technically he who commits suicide is both the killer AND the victim) takes away the life that God granted them. In a way, he’s also playing god by deciding his own fate and cutting it short. There’s a lot more detail where that came from but I’m generalizing in order to avoid straying too far from our main source, Hamlet.

So what does Shakespeare think of this? It’s hard for me to tell. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he best expresses his own personal opinions through the discussion between Laertes and the Doctor of Divinity.

“Doctor of Divinity: She should be ground unsanctified been lodged
Till the last trumpet. [Instead of] charitable prayers
Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.
Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.” (236-242)

“Laertes: Lay her i’ th’ earth,
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
A minist’ring angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.” (248-252)

This reminds me of the conversation between Laertes and Ophelia in Act I Scene iii, when Ophelia asks her brother not to judge her like some “ungracious pastors” would (51). It’s ironic that it actually does happen, and endearing that her brother instantly comes to her defense. As for Shakespeare’s message, its as if he’s saying through Laertes that the people who condemn are more likely to end up “howling” in hell rather than those who commit suicide. Shakespeare seems to judge people as a whole. Yes, Ophelia did end her own life, but compared to the “churlish priest”, she was an angel. Taking her whole character into account, in the opinion of Laertes and perhaps Shakespeare, Ophelia is pure, and the fact that she died the way she did shouldn’t change that.

I don’t particularly agree or disagree, since, although I am Christian, I’ve never really explored this topic before. Would a person who commits suicide descend into hell? I can’t say for sure. There’s different interpretations amongst all kinds of people, but who’s to say for sure what happens after we die? Like Hamlet said in his famous “To be or not to be” speech, the afterlife “puzzles the [human] will” (Act III scene i, 88).

There are many myths & religions that ponder over the subject. One myth that sticks to my mind is one of a mangaka (Japanese cartoonist’s). I feel a bit silly for mentioning this when I’m talking about English literature… but basically,  this mangaka, Arina Tanemura, has a series called Full Moon wo Sagashite. In the series, she imagines how the world of the dead works, introducing characters such as death gods, called shinigami, whose main job is to escort people into the afterlife (kind of like the Grim Reaper). She muses that while most people would simply dwell in the afterlife (she doesn’t go into much detail about what they do there), people who specifically committed suicide become shinigami. At first, the reader is led on to think that this is punishment for suicide victims, as they aren’t allowed to cross over and lead, I suppose, peaceful afterlives. Later, it is revealed that instead, the position of shinigami was made in order to give the said suicide victims a second chance, to appreciate life on earth, as well as to, perhaps, prevent others from committing suicide as well, as they have certain powers that allow them to alter certain situations.

It’s sickening to see that some people are even opposed to poor Opehlia having a Christian burial. I mean, if not a proper “Christian burial”, then what other options would be left for her? Judging by how the gravemaker keeps digging up skull after skull in such a nonchalant manner, maybe she would instead have been just wrapped up in a sack and thrown into a hole with a pile of corpses. Wow… how sad. Even if it wasn’t the case, it’s still implied that a Christian burial is only reserved for the higher ranks and the considered-to-be virtuous, and that a more lower-rank, disrespectful burial awaits those who fall short of such qualifications.

Hamlet spends a lot of this chapter lamenting the concept of death. How a person could go from something, to utterly nothing upon death. Makes life seem rather pointless, and yet here he is, driven by ambition and vengeance to kill his uncle, who killed his father, when at some point or another they will all die anyways.

P.S. RIP to Brittany Murphy, who died earlier today :( .

Although she isn’t the main focus of this blog entry, I just wanted to spare a moment to mourn the loss of yet another favorite character. Ophieeee :’(… Guess she’ll never learn that her beloved Hamlet is the one who killed her father. Perhaps it’s for the best…

ACT IV SCENE VII

Wow. Claudius is a sneaky fox. I think I’ve been so preoccupied with my extreme dislike for Hamlet that I’ve never really noticed how villainous Claudius can be until now.

Maybe I shouldn’t say “villainous,” since it’s a word that condemns him to be 100% pure evil. We know that he has a guilty conscience – unlike most fictional villains – in Act III scene iii, where he tries to repent for his sins. But he certainly is extremely ambitious, to the point that he’ll even kill off his own relatives in order to get what he wants.

In this scene, we find him smooth talking Laertes into his side. Claudius has this skill of making himself out to be the innocent victim. In order to shift the blame of Polonius’ death from himself to Hamlet, he calls himself Laertes’ friend, places himself on Laertes’ side by mentioning that Hamlet has been trying to kill him as well (“Enemy of my enemy is my friend” after all), and subtly compliments his father, calling him “noble” (4).  Once establishing that they are both, indeed, on the same side, Claudius conjures up excuses as to why he never made Hamlet’s violent pursuit publicly known by portraying himself as a thoughtful and weak man – saying that he didn’t want to hurt his wife, who’s quite attached to her son, and that he didn’t think the public would believe him because they loved their prince so much. How can Laertes not pity the distressed & kind king, who’s a victim just like his own father?

Once the letter from Hamlet arrives, Claudius reads it out loud – an action which might be seen as an indication of trust by Laertes. From that point onward, Claudius switches gears from a friendly & meek king, to a clever and confident one, as he assures Laertes that he has a plan to make it so that “no wind of blame shall breathe” (74) on anyone for Hamlet’s death; even “his mother shall uncharge the practice and call it an accident” (75-76). By this time, Claudius has secured Laertes’ trust, which is shown when the boy readily responds, “My lord, I will be ruled, / The rather if you could devise it so / That I might be the organ,” offering himself to be the main component of Claudius’ plan. I can just imagine Claudius inwardly smirking at this comment before launching into more tactics to keep Laertes on his side.

He goes on to really, and I mean really, flatter Laertes, saying that his ability to sword fight is so great that even Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, is envious of it. This probably gets Laertes excited, as he suggests that he will douse his sword in poison so that when he engages the prince into a “friendly” match, if he leaves so much as a scratch mark on the prince, it’ll be a wound fatal enough to lead to Hamlet’s death.

Mission almost accomplished.

Before Claudius can actually end the discussion, he confirms that Laertes loves his father a lot, and therefore, won’t back out of the plan. The theme of people altering according to circumstance arises once again as Claudius mentions how as time passes by, people change their mind. In a way, he, himself, prevents such a thing from happening with Laertes, saying that if Laertes sticks with the plan, it will “show [himself] indeed that [he is his] father’s son / More than in words…” (142-143)

ACT IV SCENE V & VI

I guess I spoke too soon when I said that I was the only one who was sad about Polony’s death. Ophelia is so distressed about it that she even ends up losing her mind! Throughout these two scenes, she’s seen either singing about love or death, or rambling some sort of nonsense, which according to Laertes, is more profound than how people normally speak.

There seems to be this theme in which the characters who are deemed “mad” by everyone else actually say the wisest things in the play. Ophelia, for example, has three particular moments throughout these two scenes that show that she’s in deep thought:

1. In the midst of her nonsense-talk, is a spark of truth: “Lord, we know what we are, but know not / what we may be.” (48) A message that adds on to this ongoing theme of the constantly changing nature & fates of people. (Most noted during the play in Act III scene ii, when the Player King notes in line 234 that “our wills and fates do so contrary run,” and then later on in that same speech, that “our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.”)

2. When she sings about Valentines Day, it seems as if she’s referring to Hamlet’s treatment of her. It’s about a young man pursuing a girl until they’ve slept together, and then that same man breaking his promise to marry her, blaming her for coming to him for sex.

By Gis and by Saint Charity,
Alack and fie for shame,
Young men will do ‘t, if they come to ‘t;
By Cock, they are to blame.
Quoth she “Before you tumbled me,
You promised me to wed.”
(Spoken) He answers:
“So would I ‘a done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.”
63-71

Although I doubt that Hamlet and Ophelia ever had sex, since there’s not enough evidence to support that claim, Hamlet did, nevertheless, drop Ophelia like a rock after having wooed her before his encounter with the ghost. It would be understandable if she felt used by the jerk Hamlet, especially since she’s unaware of the whole Hamlet vs. Claudius fight going on.

3. When Ophelia approaches Laertes and distributes some flowers between herself and her brother, according to the side notes, there seems to be a hidden meaning behind her actions. She starts off with giving Laertes “rosemary, for remembrance… and…pansies, that’s for thoughts.” Then she continues to give him the following without any additional explanation: fennel, columbines, rue, and a single daisy. She says she would give him some violets but they had all withered when her father passed away. Folger’s side notes come in handy when analyzing what Ophelia might mean by picking out these specific flowers. While fennel represents flattery/deceit, rue resembles sorrow/repentance, columbines are for foolishness, and the daisy is for purity. I wonder if Shakespeare/Ophelia chose these specific flowers to make a statement about someone, like Laertes? Looking at these traits all together, the only character that really comes to mind is Claudius, the deceitful and foolish man who seems to only have an ounce of purity in him and sometimes a remorseful heart. Yet she’s giving the flowers to & and addressing her words to Laertes, so I doubt that the significance of these flowers relate to Claudius at all.

From these three instances, we can deduce that although Ophelia is considered to be “mad,” in her madness, she’s able to make some profound commentary. We can also see that she’s very scatter-minded, jumping from one subject to another, and that perhaps the reason behind her madness is because she has so many things weighing on her mind, from Hamlet’s rejection of her love, to her father’s recent and tragic death.

Another thing I’d like to note – it’s ironic how both Hamlet and Ophelia have both gone insane because of their fathers’ deaths, ironic that Hamlet is the one who inflicted his same pain on Ophelia. (That impulsive idiot really needs to learn to think before he stabs.) I can only imagine the drama that might occur between these two as the play slowly continues to unravel. I’d like to see Ophelia’s reaction when she finds out (well, everyone’s bound to find out everything by the end of the play) that Hamlet is the one who murdered her father. Although I doubt she’d try to avenge Polony, it’s possible that she might snap at Hamlet. He’s been a jerk to her so far: first professing his love to her, dropping her like she was nothing to him, and then sexually harrassing (verbally) her later on. Ophelia has always managed to keep her cool with the boy up ’til now. But I wonder if she’ll still be able to when she faces him as not just some heartbreaking jerk, but as her father’s murderer.

ACT IV SCENE III & IV

… I suppose that I’m the only one who’s mourning Polony’s death at this point. Well… this will all eventually have to blow up in our “tragic hero’s” face sooner or later so I always have Hammy’s demise to look forward to! Yes, Polony, your untimely death shall be avenged! (Hahaha just kidding. Wow that sounded really horrible.)

Anyways, in this scene we have King Claudius address the murder of Polony by directly confronting an even crazier-than-usual Hamlet. Claudius asks for his councilor’s whereabouts, Hamlet simple responds that he’s at supper, not that he’s supping, but rather, he’s being supped on.

“Not where [Polonius] eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service – two dishes but to one table. That’s the end.” (22-27)

My initial reaction to his indirect response was basically a quizzical stare accompanied with a giant question mark stationed in the middle of my brain. What? How in the world did we get from Polony’s whereabouts to worms and kings and beggars and their guts?! Well, since we know by now that there’s a method to Hamlet’s “madness,” let’s take his little wormy speech apart, shall we?

It’s probably safe to assume that this is obviously all metaphorical, an analogy to something. Since our sidenotes suggests that the “convocation of politic worms” most likely referred to the Diet of Worms, if “politic worms” are meant to represent the politicians, “supper” probably represents an even bigger concept/thing – the world.

Hamlet says that Polonius is being eaten by these politic worms. According to wikipedia (such a reliable source, I know), the Diet of Worms is most famous for summoning Martin Luther, the founder of Protestantism, to renounce his views under the orders of the Pope. Shakespeare was a man of the Elizabethan era in England, the period in which Queen Elizabeth Tudor ruled (Kyahh, the Tudors! I love the Tudors! Just saying.). The Queen was well known to be a dedicated Protestant, and England, at the time, pretty much agreed that Protestantism was the best. (In fact, if I do remember correctly, England despised the Catholics, particularly the Catholic Spaniards.) It’s possible that when Shakespeare says that the “convocation of politic worms are e’en at him,” he says it in a negative connotation, since the Diet of Worms was against the Protestant movement, and England (Shakespeare’s beloved country) very much promoted it. Therefore politic worms = bad. Eating up Polony like they tried to nibble at Luther.

He proceeds to speak of Claudius’ worm (“your worm”) – which either refers to Claudius’ own Diet of Worms, aka Claudy’s little minions, which, in Hamlet’s mind, comprise of Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Polonius, or it’s saying that Claudius himself is a politic worm. The latter sounds like it would make more sense since Polonius is still the victim who was eaten at supper here. He then says that it’s “your only emperor for diet.” Translation? His schemes as a politic worm to eat away at people is all that occupies his diet/mind? Possibly.

The following sentences are especially trick, as Hamlet delves into the world of fat. “We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.” This reminds me a lot of the shadow conversation Hamlet had with his friends in an earlier part of the play, how if ambition is simply a shadow of a dream, then kings (with ambition) are shadows of the beggars (without ambition). We all depend on each other to feed ourselves, our ambition, our desires, only to “fat ourselves for maggots,” insects that eat anything from food to dead bodies. Makes it sound like Hamlet is saying all our greedy ambition leads to nothing, or death, and is meaningless. “Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service – two dishes but to one table. That’s the end.” It doesn’t matter if one is king and the other is a beggar, either way they “fat” others and they “fat” themselves.

So… if we piece together the puzzle… this basically translate into -

“Not where [Polonius] eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him” = ”You used Polonius to the very end, and like a worm, you ate away at him.”

“Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.” = “You only think of how to use other people for your own benefit. It’s in our human nature to be ambitious and to use each other for our ambition, but it’s all pointless in the end because we all die anyway.” (Italics = unsure about.)

“Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service – two dishes but to one table. That’s the end.” = “What difference is a king and a beggar when their services are simply interchangeable? They’re both humans. They contribute the same thing to life. They both die.

So where is Polonius, Hamlet? Being eaten by worms. As usual.

ACT IV SCENE I & II

I really dislike Hamlet. Granted, he’s the character that gets all the best lines, and seems to be the only one who understands what’s really going on in this play, but to be quite frank, I really, truly, and sincerely dislike this boy’s guts.

I call him a boy because although he’s one smart butt, he’s not very wise. Sure he’s a keen observer and a profound thinker, but no wise man would even consider revenge – “an eye for an eye” – to solve his problems. Then again, I suppose I should be considering the era Hamlet is living in, as well as the fact that he’s a Shakespeare character, and all Shakespeare characters tend to be drama queens in tights. (Sorry to say, though I do love Shakespeare’s writing style, as I mentioned in the last entry.)

It’s not really the revenge bit that irks me the most though, as it’s an understandably vital part to the story – if Hammy didn’t want any revenge, the story would have ended a long time ago, unless Claudy was stupid enough to plot HamHam’s death anyway. It’s more like his snobbish attitude, though I guess that also has its understandable roots since he feels betrayed by everyone around him.

Still, what a jerk. Giving never ending directions to the actors in Act III scene ii, as if they didn’t know how to do their own job. Dropping sexual comments on Ophelia like he didn’t just tell her off a couple of scenes before. (I honestly don’t see how people could possibly anticipate this couple when Ophelia obviously deserves MUCH BETTER.) Cutting down his mother and pretty much telling her that she’s filth, as if he’s someone who’s oh so pure but just happens to have vengeful thoughts of killing his uncle. Calling his friends sponges in Act IV scene ii, and then calling them stupid for not understanding him (“A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.” 23-24 Ha. Knavish?). Well of COURSE they wouldn’t understand you, they don’t even get where you’re coming from you snot!

And he does that pretty often: saying something poetic and profound but never bothering to clarify what he means for his intended audience because he figures they’d be too foolish to understand. Honestly, in my opinion, it’s the fools who make speeches for only themselves to enjoy. Yes, I realize that it’s for the purpose of dramatic irony that Shakespeare makes Hamlet so overly annoying with these moments where he’s like, “I’m just gonna say something pretty to confuse you and then belittle you for not understanding its prettiness,” but come on. Wouldn’t you be annoyed too if you had a friend who constantly did that?

“*Makes some pretty, poetic analogy/metaphor*”
“…What?”
“Oh, nothing. You wouldn’t understand~ *looks away*.”

I don’t know about you but that would make me just… do something violent. (I kid. Or rather, I’m just ranting.)

I think another big reason why I’m really disliking this guy right now is because he totally killed off my favorite character, Polonius (Polony/Poly-oly!), and was kind of like “…Whoops…” after he did the misdeed. Wow, so he’s a drama queen when lecturing his mom about her flaws, but not so much when it comes to his own. The little booger.

Just to go a bit off track, since this is a post mainly dedicated to my immense dislike (notice that I never use the word hate?) of Hamlet, I just wanted to talk a bit about Polony for a moment. Or rather, our class’ general opinion of him.Why? Seriously, I don’t understand why people would dislike Poly-oly. I’ve heard a couple of comments that deem him nosy. Even Hamlet insults him (after he’s dead. Way to show remorse for your actions, punk.), calling him a “wretched, rash, intruding fool…” (Act III scene iv. lines 38). Yet I don’t understand why.

Exactly what part of him is so annoyingly “intruding”/nosy? The part where he’s just trying to be a father in giving his daughter some advice? When he speaks to Claudius about the Hamlet x Ophelia affair because he suspects that it’s the reason behind Hamlet’s distress? Well, what else was he supposed to do? He was worried about his daughter, maybe Hamlet (though he shouldn’t be because Hammy is a complete jerk whenever he speaks with him), and how this relationship and Hamlet’s madness could affect the kingdom! He was simply staying loyal to his duty as a father and a king’s councilor. And how about the fact that Polony was spying on Gertrude’s and Hamlet’s conversation? Polony is a paranoid person, but also a very loyal one. It makes sense that he would spy on his king’s behalf – Claudius even ordered him to!

If the reason behind the majority’s dislike for Polonius is simply his know-it-all personality, I guess I can’t really defend him in that area. Polony and Hammy were both know-it-alls in their own ways. Except I found Polony’s conceited attitude to be a bit more endearing than Hamlet’s. (I think it was the sexual comments he made towards Ophelia that his snobbiness really started to bug me. If I were that girl, I would’ve kicked him in the face. But then again, if I were Ophelia, I’d probably get into trouble for acting violent against a prince. Even if he’s one of the most unprincely princes ever.)

Anyways, back to Hamlet, the reason why I don’t completely hate Hamlet is a very interesting character read about. Sure, he may make my blood boil, but he also makes me momentarily forget how much I really don’t like him whenever he says lines of gold.

His line in Act IV scene ii, when he responds to Rozencrantz’s inquiry of where poor Polony’s dead body is left me a bit torn between two opposite reactions: “Compounded [the dead body] with dust, whereto ’tis kin.” (6) This, as it is explained in the side note, is a reference to the book of Genesis in the bible – “for dust thou art, and unto dust though shall return.” As soon as I read this (along with the side note, since it took me a minute or two to register what he meant by line 6), I, for some reason, fell in love with his twisted way of thinking. The love was short-lived, however, when in the very next second, I snapped immediately, thinking that Hamlet had some nerve to think he had the right to just bury Polonius someplace random and not tell anybody. Not only that, but the fact that he makes such a reference makes it seem like he’s assigning himself the position of God by returning Polony to the dust himself.  (If that makes any sense…)

I wouldn’t surprised, actually, if Hamlet really did consider himself a god. He seems to have a lot of confidence in his judgment, always bossing people around (actors), condemning sinners (Queen Gertrude), and even deciding the rules of death and the afterlife. Not only does he decide all by himself that it’s okay to bury Polony without telling anyone because he’s returning him to the dust, he also mandates that killing King Claudius in the midst of prayer would send him to heaven, while killing him in the midst of committing a sin would send him to hell, where, according to Hamlet, he belongs.

ACT III SCENE II (2/2)

Laa dee daa~. Reading Shakespeare break out into rhyme reminds me of why I’ve always admired his writing. The way he fashions and structures his sentences is just so pretty. I mean, as much as I like to write poems myself, I can’t even imagine myself being able to force out words and string them together as prettily as he can.

And when I say “pretty,” I really mean, “pretty.” “Beautiful,” is probably a word that indicates the highest level of beauty (Well of course. Beautiful = full of beauty). But I feel like it would be a bit forced to just call Shakespeare-writing “beautiful.” Because it’s not. This is going to be a little hard for me to explain, but for some reason, whenever I think of the word “beautiful,” I think of something overwhelming, like a ginormous bouquet of flowers with sparkles dancing on top of the large, bulging petals. It’s all stuffy and in-your-face. Shakespeare’s writing is indeed beautiful, but has more of a subtle beauty to it, something like a feather that quietly alights on top of your head, yaknow? Pretty. Not imposing. Just pretty. If that makes any sense.

Here are some lines that seriously made me die (in a good way).

1. “The world is not for aye, nor ’tis it strange
That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
For ’tis a question left us yet to prove
Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.” (223-226)

Thoughts: This quote comes from the part where the Player King tells the Player Queen that they can’t know for sure whether or not she’ll fall in love again after he dies. For the world isn’t constant, it’s always changing. So it wouldn’t be strange for one’s love to also change according to the situation. Then he brings up a pretty profound question – does love determine one’s fortune/circumstance or does one’s fortune/circumstance determine one’s love?

This reminds me of a situation described in a different book called The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. In case you’ve never heard of the book, it’s basically about some Chinese immigrant families, specifically the mothers and the daughters, and the differences between the former generation and the next. While the Chinese immigrant mothers still remember their roots back in their homeland, their daughters identify themselves as Chinese-Americans, and have their own stories to share.

Unfortunately, I don’t remember the exact details of how this particular part of the story went… but basically, one of the Chinese-American daughters in the book has gone through a divorce. She recalls how she first met her ex-husband, how their relationship blossomed, and why it caved in the end. She explains that in the beginning her parents’ disapproval of her dating a Caucasian man set the dynamics of the relationship, in which he acted as her knight in shining armor and she acted as his damsel in distress. She says that’s how it functioned, and notes that perhaps because of their circumstances, they were able to stay together just for the relationship’s drama/fairy tale-like appeal. It was a forbidden love, and therefore, it was an exciting one. In this case, we can say that the situation –> led to “love.”

But at the same time, it really depends on how you look at the situation. Maybe it’s because they loved each other despite their racial differences that such a situation occurred. That they loved each other so much, they were willing to face her parents’ disapproval. That would mean that their love –> led to this conflict.

Notice how I had to go into multiple paragraphs to explain my point while Shakespeare only needed, like, four lines? But yes, basically, to summarize my mini-point (as opposed to my overall point in this blog, which I have none), the question of “Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love” is pretty complicated. In Queen Gertrude’s case, as this play is supposed to be parallel to King Claudius’ and her story, I’m going to guess that it was a love bred by the unfortunate circumstances. Gerty needed someone to comfort her after the death of her first husband, and who better than his brother? Not only did he happen to make himself available at the time of her grief, it’s possible that Gerty might have thought there would be enough similarities between the two siblings that Claudy would suffice as Hammy Sr.’s replacement.

2. “Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices are still overthrown;
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.”  (234-236)

Thoughts: This actually reminds me of a poem I wrote a few months ago about nature vs. humans. Not that I’d want to share it here (too embarrassing), but basically I just wrote about how humans use technology in an attempt to change the ways of nature.

We humans are always in this struggle to get our way. Whenever we express frustration over something, it’s usually because we expect to be in control of things. Like when our computer breaks down or temporarily freezes – some of us throw hissy fits (like myself) because we can’t understand why the compies won’t bend to our will and work like we want them to.

We’re pretty much rebels, always fighting the forces of nature. We want to fly, so we make planes. We want to get things done quickly, we have new devices flooding into the market each year. We want to live forever, we have people everywhere researching ways to extend our lives as much as possible.

But Shakespeare/Player King reminds us that nature/fate rarely agrees with humans’ ambitions. Our technologies are still imperfect and “are still overthrown.”  And, according to Shakespeare, though we know what we wish for, how everything eventually unfolds is not up to us. Our fate is not in our hands. (Whoooa could this totally apply to Hamlet in that though he plans to avenge his father in a certain way, things might not go as planned? SUPER SUBTLE FORESHADOWING?! Or am I looking for something that’s obviously not there…)

3. “Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
The hart ungalled play.
For some must watch, while some must sleep:
Thus runs the world away.” (297-300)

Thoughts: Hamlet recites these lines as soon as a “strucken” King Claudius leaves the room/stage. (A hart is a 5+ year old deer according to Dictionary.com. To be ungalled is to not be annoyed/irritated.) And he really does play after old Claudy leaves when he calls for some music. (What in the world are we even celebrating here. I mean, yeah he just found out that the ghost from before was telling the truth, but doesn’t that make things all the more dreary?! That means his father really WAS killed. That his mother married the MURDERER of his father without even knowing. What’s with the festive attitude? Is Hammy just confusing me again by disguising his true feelings under his act [?] of lunacy?)

I really like the last two lines with which Hamlet concludes that stanza. It seems as if Shakespeare’s saying that there are two types of people in the world (“ones that entertain, and ones that observe.” Had to throw it in.) – the observers and the sleepers – and that both are vital (implied by the “must”) to how this world functions.

I’m going to go out on a limb here, but I think that the sleepers could represent the average people – the ones who remain ignorant to what’s going on in the world around them and simply live life just to get by. The watchers are pretty much the ones with their eyes wide open to the truth.

In the case of Hamlet, Hamlet is the only true watcher, while most people around him, like Queen Gertrude, are the sleepers. Like Z said in a class discussion a couple of days ago, Hamlet seems to be the only one who’s skeptical of everything that’s going on. While everyone else in the play accepts the recent events – funeral, followed rather quickly by marriage – only Hamlet questions the truths lurking beneath the surface. And really, Hamlet always keeps his eyes open in every other situation as well, accusing people of being false and claiming to appreciate things (like the play) that are generally underrated by the public.

I find it interesting that Shakespeare/Hamlet implies that some must watch while others must sleep. Think about it, if everyone slept, how would anyone in this world make any progress? Where would all our geniuses be to point out things? To help us make progress as humans? In retrospect, if everyone was awake, what’s the point of having our geniuses if everyone else was on their level?

ACT III SCENE I & 1/2 SCENE II

Initially I wanted to spend a blog post talking/ranting about how much of a snobby know-it-all Hammy was – but then this line caught the corner of my eye. That famous line that I’ve seen & heard everywhere except in its original context – “To be or not to be- that is the question…” (64). *Insert squeal here.* I can talk about Hammy’s annoying behavior any other time, but since this line and this speech only arises once in this story (I believe), I feel compelled to seek its relation to the overall plot.

The message of the speech that follows after that line is pretty simple (in my opinion): People wish for death to end the pain that has been plaguing them throughout their lives. “To die, to sleep” peacefully, “to sleep, perchance to dream.” But Hamlet notes that here lies the problem – or the “rub”. “For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, / When we have shuffled off this mortal coil…” (74-75). Who knows whether or not death will really be just a peaceful sleep? In fact, who knows what happens to you after you die at all? The mere idea of it is baffling and the fact that no one can offer an exact answer that everyone can agree upon makes people even more anxious. He comments that the

“…dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others we know not of
…” (86-90)

By comparing the afterlife to an undiscovered country, Shakespeare/Hamlet builds up this clever analogy that the audience can easily relate to in order to fully understand his point. How often does anyone want to take the road untraveled? Rarely does anyone want to be the first to test anything out because they fear the potential problems they might experience as a result. What happens if a a major problem occurs? Then what? There are no experts to turn to, because you’ll be the first and only one to have tried the new/different course! Similarly, people get nervous about death because they do not know what to expect. Though many people have, indeed, died in the past, “no traveler returns” to explain the afterlife, leaving each and every individual vulnerable and ill-prepared for whatever lies beyond their death.

So how does this have anything to do with the rest of the story? There must be a reason why Shakespeare pinpoints humans’ natural fear of death in this speech. What does it show about Hamlet’s character? What does it contribute to the overall story?

Is Hamlet pondering the subject simply because he recently saw his father’s ghost? Is this whole passage about death simply there to give more insight to Hamlet’s scholarly character? I’m going to guess its a mix of both. We have to keep in mind that Hamlet was having doubts earlier about whether or not to carry out his father’s revenge like he promised to. His father was killed. And now he in turn might have to kill his own uncle. The subject of death would definitely be weighing heavily on his mind, and after having even met the ghost of his father, Hammy is probably wondering what it’s like in the afterlife as well.

Maybe the fact that he identifies the tragedy behind this fear of death – that most people would rather endure the heavy burden of life rather than just to die and be thrown into the unknown – intensifies his grief for his father. Not only was the old man robbed of his title, his wife, his country, and his life, he was also robbed of his choice of whether “to be or not to be.” I’d think Hamlet would seem more distressed though if that was the kind of thought he had when approached by Ophelia after making the speech. But maybe he really was disturbed and I just wasn’t able to detect it as a reader. After all, King Claudius does note that “There’s something in [Hamlet's] soul / O’er which his melancholy sits on brood…” (178-179)

Who knows.

… Sigh.

Rather than reach an actual conclusion, I ended up rambling. I hate when this happens. Bleh.

New layout. Only because the last one made my posts look annoyingly narrow.

ACT II SCENE II (2/2)

As much as we know by now how much Shakespeare likes to sprinkle allusions here and there throughout his stories, this is the first time (I believe?) we get a full blown excerpt. Specifically from the story of Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, Priam, the king of Troy, and Hecuba, the wife of King Priam. (Well, more specifically, from a story in which Aeneas recites Pyrrhus’, Priam’s, and Hecuba’s story to Queen Dido of Carthage. I don’t think that’s a very important detail though.) What’s very interesting about the inclusion of this story is that Hamlet specifically requests that the speech depicting Priam’s murder be recited then and there. It seems pretty random of him to suddenly shove the “First Player” into the spotlight, but let’s consider the following in this particular portion of the scene before reaching a final verdict on Hammy’s motives: the content, the reactions, and the audience.

Hamlet starts us off with a lengthy description of Pyrrhus’ dark character. Pyrrhus is pretty much depicted as a brute, “roasted in wrath and fire,” who is hungry for the death of King Priam. Immediately this should set off a light bulb in our heads. (Ding!) Already we find a parallel between Pyrrhus’ story and Hamlet’s – both are sons out to avenge the deaths of their fathers. Also, the fact that Hamlet has this stanza memorized by heart indicates that he either prepared for this moment or that he remembers how the story goes very well, simply because he finds some great significance in knowing it. I personally think it’s a mixture of both.

Knowing that there is a parallel between these two characters, it leads us to speculate that there might be more connections throughout the given story. If Pyrrhus represents Hamlet, Achilles would be King Hamlet, King Priam would be King Claudius, and Hecuba would be Queen Gertrude. Achilles is known to be a great and valiant hero, so it would make sense for Hamlet to associate him with his equally heroic Hercules/Hyperion-like father. King Priam is implied to be clumsy, weak, and an incapable ruler -

“…[Pyrrhus] finds [Priam],
Striking too short at Greeks. His antique sword,
Rebellious to his arms, lies where it falls
Repugnant to command…” (493-496)

- all of which are qualities that Hamlet probably thinks suits his goat of an uncle. And since King Priam is already there to represent King Claudius, Priam’s wife, Hecuba, naturally becomes Queen Gertrude in Hamlet’s mind.

To Hamlet, this is a story that perfectly defines the situation he is facing right now. He probably feels that the story serves to both reflect and justify (key word!) his motives behind killing King Claudius – to avenge his father and to save his kingdom from such a lousy ruler. Hence, he feels confident as well as defensive when the passage is recited. (The defensive part can be seen clearly when he shoots down Polony’s complaint of the story’s length by saying to the “First Player”, “Prithee say on. He’s for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps” (524), implying that Polony is too dumb to enjoy the performance.) Perhaps Hamlet actually feels insecure about killing another for the sake of his father (as he expresses doubt of the ghost’s validity later on), and has an outsider of the situation, a random actor, tell a tale of another that’s similar to his own. That way he secretly feels reassured of the actions he will be taking.

Hamlet’s confident reaction to the story takes a sharp turn however, when Hecuba makes her entrance into the tragic scene. “But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen-”, to which Hamlet responds, “‘The mobled queen’?” (527-528) in confusion. We can clearly see that he did not expect this part – the image of Queen Hecuba running towards Priam and crying upon his death. Perhaps it triggered him to think of a parallel image of his own mother running towards Claudius in that same, distressed fashion. Though he tries to deny that he cares enough about how his mother feels to stop his plans, the fact that his confidence seems to have taken a nosedive right after that last piece of the story seems to suggest otherwise. In fact, in his concluding monologue, he even expresses uncertainty as to what to do right after he rants about Hecuba’s intrusion and Pyrrhus’ reaction.

“What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he would weep for her? What would he do
had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage in tears
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the guilty and appall the free,
Confound the ignorant and amaze indeed
The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause” (586-595)

To conclude my lengthy ramble – Shakespeare effectively shows a couple of things through the use of an extended reference:
1. Hamlet’s doubt.
2. The fact that Hamlet’s been thinking a lot about his situation and relying on Pyrrhus’ story to find his answers. (How else would he have memorized that whole story or requested for it specifically on the spot?)
3. Emphasizes Hamlet’s thoughts on each character based on how they’re characterized in the story. For example, the fact King Hamlet is represented through yet another hero, Achilles, reinforces the fact that Hamlet looks up to his father.
4. Hamlet still cares for his mother.
5. Could foreshadow the events to come. It’s very likely that Claudius’ death – if he is killed, that is – will lead to his Gertrude’s distress. (I mean, that’d be her second husband she’d be losing.) Not only that, but did you notice how dark the description was for “hellish Pyrrhus”? Another hint, I believe, that Hamlet is going down the road to his demise, where he’s going to lose his sanity and maybe even his heart.

ACT II SCENE II (1/2)

Seriously.

First we have King Claudius and Queen Gertrude pondering over the possible cause of Hamlet’s misery (“What it should be, / More than his father’s death, that has thus put him / So much of th’ understanding of himself / I cannot dream of.” – Claudius, lines 7-9. “I doubt that it is no other but the main- / His father’s death and our o’erhasty marriage.” – Gertrude, lines 59-60. Indeedy). Then, after the whole Norway portion of the scene, Polonius states that he believes Hamlet has gone mad because he is in love. He’s so confident that he even declares that if he’s wrong, the King and Queen can “Take this [his head] from this [the rest of his body]…” (line 168). (Wow. I hope that bold statement isn’t going to badly affect him later on.) Polonius continues on his quest to prove his point and talks to Hamlet, all the while pointing out to the audience where he finds evidence that Hamlet is clearly going insane because of love. As Polonius says he’ll “take his leave of him,” Hamlet replies, “You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal – except my life, except my life, except my life.” (line 233-235) And later on, when Hamlet encounters his childhood friends, he briefly retorts Rosencrantz’s comment that “the world’s grown honest” (line 255-256) with a sarcastic, “Then doomsday is near” (line 257).

In all these instances, we witness the use of dramatic irony, a literary device that Shakespeare is well-known for. Dramatic irony is basically when the audience knows something that the characters don’t. The King and Queen are curious about Hamlet’s recent behavior. We, the audience, know the cause of it. Polonius swears that he knows the reason behind Hamlet’s madness. We know that’s not quite it. When Hamlet mentions that the only thing a person can take from another who’s unwilling is their life, it’s likely that he’s talking about his father’s murder, something that the audience knows Hamlet has learned about and something that Polonius has no knowledge of. And finally, when we analyze Hamlet’s bitter response to Rosencrantz’s “the world’s grown honest” comment, only the audience knows that Hamlet is probably thinking back on his father’s unfair death, and how his uncle is now living deceitfully.

What’s the point & effect of dramatic irony? Well, I suppose in its own unique way, it helps to build up the suspense for the audience. Although the audience knows what Hamlet knows, and knows what everyone else on the stage doesn’t know, what the audience has yet to know is what will happen as a result of all this knowing and not knowing. For example, what will happen to Polonius, or what will Polonius do when he finds out that he has been wrong all along? Will that bold statement of his matter at all? Or what will even happen between Claudius, Gertrude, and Hamlet as the story unfolds? How will the secrets Claudius and Hamlet are keeping be revealed? All these questions occupy the mind of the audience members as the dramatic irony plays out through this scene.

Going a bit off topic, another thing to note about the first half of this scene is the conversation Hamlet has with his childhood friends. The whole shadow bit is what particularly caught my attention.

Bold = bits in a bit of a conversation that I found especially amusing/interesting.

“Hamlet: …To me, [Denmark] is a prison.
Rosencrantz:  Why, then, your ambition makes it one. ‘Tis too narrow for your mind.
Hamlet: Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I had bad dreams.
Guildenstern: Which dreams, indeed, are ambition, for the very substance of ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
Hamlet: A dream itself is but a shadow.
Rosencrantz: Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow’s shadow.
Hamlet: Then are our beggar bodies, and our monarchs and outstretched heroes our beggars’ shadows…” (lines 270-284)

As the sidenote in our Hamlet book explains, this basically translates to: “if ambition is but a ‘shadow’s shadow,’ then beggars (who are with ambition) are the only humans with substantial bodies and kings and heroes (ruled by ambition) are only the beggars’ shadows.” It’s an interesting thought posed by Hamlet and, I believe, a bold statement made by Shakespeare. I suppose this also makes Claudius a shadow then, since he succumbed to his ambition to become king and killed his own brother to obtain that position. I wonder if that also makes Hamlet one as well, since now he’s ambitious to avenge his father’s death. But whose shadow would Claudius and Hamlet be? King Hamlet’s? But King Hamlet is dead and has no “human substantial body.” So does that mean that Claudius and Hamlet are shadows with no owners? Does that mean they are useless in a way because they have no owner? I can see that analogy apply to Hamlet, but not so much for Claudius.

Actually, I’m not even sure if I got this whole shadow analogy down right. If a beggar’s shadow is a king and a hero, what does that say about their relationship? What does that say about the king? Or the hero? That their ambition depends on the beggar? That they are, ironically, no longer living for themselves? If that’s so, then Hamlet’s ambition depends on the ghost of his father. If Hamlet is the shadow of his father’s ghost, then that could foreshadow Hamlet’s demise since he is no longer living for himself but for revenge.

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