when the Prince is Not Enough

The more and more I start reading scholarly mumbo-jumbo on HAMLET, I start to feel dizzy.

I usually like this kinda stuff, but the more and more I read it, I feel like they are making his essence ever more complex, contrived, maddening, distant, and inaccessible.

Is it just me, or am I one of the only people who think it’s really NOT that deep…

Okay, I take that back. Hamlet is waaaay more than meets the eye. I have a theory formulated later down in this discussion, but first, I do very much agree with this:

“He is, more than any theatrical character before and perhaps since, a figure constructed around an unseen or secret core. Such a figure in the theatre is something of a paradox, since all that exists for any character onstage is what is seen and heard there.” – Stephan Greenblatt

Let’s continue to explore. Okay, so what are the pieces he has within him?

Goethe says Hamlet is the soul of a poet—he’s too sensitive, too delicate and complex to endure cruel pressures of a coarse world.

Freud says it’s an unresolved Odeipus complex. (this is a tired & old idea, in my view. There’s more to this fella than just the desire to fuck him mom)

So far, I’m with Goethe.

Shakespeare has Hamlet defy the archetypal ‘Revenger’ character. This play, actually, veers off from the very popular Revenge Play seen in his day. // like any good artist, Shakespeare takes a popular, accustomed genre and turns the sucker on its head and in turn wows audiences. (lesson noted). For one thing, this is probably the first time the Revenger character has said to himself, “whoa boy. Stop. Is this even worth it? Am I even worth it? Am I even enough?”

Hmm…Also…

“In Hamlet’s melancholy consciousness human existence has been reduced to dust at its dustiest…the roots of Hamlet’s despair seem to lie in a more intractably inward place, a place perhaps less consonant with revenge than with suicide…[if he was just trying to kill Claudius, he would’ve] composed a straightforward course of action, but his soul-sickness has receding layers—beyond political corruption, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern’s lowness (his so-called friends), Ophelia’s dismayingly complaint obedience to her father, mom’s disturbing carnality, and beyond this there is the ongoing, endlessly transformative morally indifferent cycle of life itself. The quintessence of dust is not only the cold, inert matter produced by nauseating triumph of death, but also living matter with meaningless vitality produced by equally nauseating triumph of life.” –SG

He is a tragic hero who is sad and funny. Full of hidden meanings.

He is composed of the murderous design of the Revenger character AND with the propensity toward a philosophical, meditative approach to Life and Death, which haunts him throughout.

If I were to take a gander at this young man, here’s what I’d say, plain and simple…

He is the soul of poet. (Who know what’s he studying in Wittenburg, but I’d guess that literature, theatre, history and philosophy are his favorite subjects.) With this burden of carrying around the heart and soul of a poet, he naturally does not fit into societal conformity.

But remember. He’s a Prince! The Prince and heir to Denmark. So technically he IS society. But he has zero privacy. He is watched, and yes I would assume adored and scrutinized as anyone prominent in Court was in those days. As a man, he would’ve probably had a better situation than probably someone like Marie Antoinette, but still his overly sensitive composition would have constantly felt his environment a violation of privacy, which would had certainly stunted his social skills, which would had forced him to search and live within—live within a fantasy world, or an idealized world, certainly a world of deep thought.

(I keep saying sensitive. That doesn’t mean I don’t think the boy can get angry, because he certainly can. Sensitive folks tend to get hot and passionate and out of control of their emotions.)

One thing time has taught him was that he can’t really trust his friends. After all, he’s the Prince. Horatio is currently his closest friend from school. No telling how long they’ve been friends, but there’s proof in the text that Hamlet doesn’t disclose everything to Horatio, so there are trust issues there.

Hamlet has a mental inclination to think about and consider suicide. This is not unique. Thousands and thousands of people in the world commit, attempt and definitely consider (or entertain the idea) of suicide. This is either because of one’s biology at birth, it’s a learned behavior, or it’s due to trauma. Regardless of its origin, it denotes a delicate soul, and one should handle with care.

And handle with care they haven’t. Obviously Hamlet is extremely disconnected from his Mother. How close he is to his father is unclear, but he has certainly constructed an idealized version of him. The reality of those being truthful depictions is slight—Hamlet the elder was a politician and a warrior; two positions that in my mind’s reality never embody those popular idealized illustrations, unless its mythology we’re talking about. (& sometimes even then, hmmm).

Then he’s got drama with Ophelia. It’s impossible to determine exactly what their relationship was before Claudius committed murder, but I think Hamlet truly did love her. But Ophelia’s ability to let her father control her would have certainly been an impediment.

And finally, the biggest is the death of his father, which completely shatters him and his reality. This is his soul’s first encounter with significant death (do you remember your first encounter with significant death and how shattering that was to you?). This forces him to confront death, the FEAR of it, head on. Not to mention the trauma of losing a father, especially in the way in which it happened, AND not given the proper space or support to GRIEVE properly.

There is no common form of grieving. Grieving is a private matter. Some people grieve for a day, others need much, much more.

SO you have this HUGE event that shatters his life, fucks with his reality, he’s not given the proper space or respect to grieve—no fucking matter that he’s the king, it’s his fucking father, give him space. Plus his distant mother, finicky girlfriend, zero close/trustworthy friends, and total lack of privacy due to his position in the court….

NO WONDER HE’S A HEAD CASE, RIGHT?

How can someone feel like they are enough while living in this kind of world?

Lots and lots and lots of scholars begin their studying of Hamlet by acknowledging that he is an “enigma,” a complete mystery. And this is true.

But I feel all of his contradictions, his very mystery, the “enigma” of Hamlet is the very “enigma” of us all, of humanity.

…thoughts of suicide…the meaning of life and death…complexities…impulses…whether of not to act on something…the art of acting one way, but feeling something else on the inside…

For the 1st time we have a central character we don’t have clarity on. By exploring him, we turn into ourselves, do we not?

His mysteries are our mysteries.