Appendix 3 about „Hamlet“, part 3: Need a hero?

 Now I have to begin this blog with the sad news that, of course, having now looked into Hamlet himself a great deal more – mainly with the help of Dover Wilson – I had to discard my theory about Ophelia’s pregnancy. There is no way that Shakespeare could have wanted to play with the possibility that she was pregnant because this would virtually damage the basic logic of the Hamlet-plot. Of course this leaves now a newly opened can of questions about the Ophelia-plot unanswered (which is great, by the way!) because I am still convinced that the rue and the long purples “carry” meaning. And certainly somebody did already come up with a similarly fascinating explanation for them as Dover Wilson had for the question why Claudius doesn’t react to the “dumb show”, and what this means for the whole scene where the “Gonzago” play is staged. Which I hadn’t even realized as something I hadn’t understood AT ALL. Finding and answering these questions is a fascinating game which could be played ad infinitum, but it isn’t THE POINT. At least not for me. As I am reading Dover Wilson I am digging up new questions almost as fast as I get others answered. Maybe that is why I am having so much fun reading it … So the point is, as this doesn’t occur at this rate in any other one of Shakespeare’s plays: WHY is this so?

And I still like my reading of Ophelia a lot because, in this case, I had the complete story of HOW IT HAPPENED that I came to make “Hamlet” available to me. And that story started even BEFORE my renewed relationship with Shakespeare began. It might even be that a failed reading process gets me a better result than being instantly successful. In any case I am learning a lot more about what I am doing. And, being led astray can even be an essential part of creating meaning. As it was in my reading of Sonnet 1. There it was, in my experience, as simple as that: If you don’t follow the false leads but stay on the path of “straight” reading you will never retrieve what the poem really is about. Because meaning, in this case, is retrieved through performance. You have to COME TO feel even EXACTLY what the person who wrote this poem felt “performing” it. (I wrote “performing” because “feeling” is a difficult issue to deal with talking of other people – like “thinking” is. Of course, in a way, we are trying to figure out what the author of a text felt or thought. But, taken literally, it is about as pointless as trying to figure out what an actor is thinking or feeling during his performance. There are probably MOMENTS that are really “as simple as that”, but usually we cannot know anything about it. As we can know nothing about what Shakespeare was thinking or feeling when he wrote this poem. But I believe that, when the circumstances are right, and I manage to be a good reader, I can come to know what feelings and thoughts his PERFORMANCE is about.) In “Hamlet” creating false leads must be equally essential, very likely in more ways than one. And the communication as such is infinitely more complex because most of what happens in this play is performed through pretending or lying. And there is potentially no end to the process of nailing the truth.

Even having read or heard very close to nothing about the play, I have already collected two references to its “mystery” character. One from someone interviewed on the National Theatre’s production who referred to it as a “mystery play”, one by Dover Wilson who addresses the play as a “dramatic essay in mystery” even before he deals with its being a tragedy. But stating this, in both cases, without any further explanation, is kind of a provocation and should be taken up as such. Because “Hamlet” obviously isn’t a “mystery play” but a tragedy. A “mystery play”, in my understanding, is something that couldn’t have existed in Elizabethan times because, if I remember this correctly, the first “mystery” in world literature was a French kind of novella from the nineteenth century. Which means for “Hamlet” that the objective of the play is not to clear up a mystery in a way that would satisfy the speculative mind of the “scientific” age but to create “catharsis” of the kind where you might come to ask WHY these atrocious things actually HAVE TO happen. Whereas the “dramatic essay in mystery” is a very alluring expression - which might even explain a lot about the difficulties of “processing” the text on a stage or on screen – but what does it actually mean in terms of a structural issue about the play?

The first thing that struck me seeing the RSC production with David Tennant, and the reason why I came to like it, was that I could SEE people LYING all the time. And by playing Hamlet in a way that it was impossible to “take him for granted” David Tennant constantly alerted me to that happening. Because - as I am not able to resist taking a “shortcut” here: what’s “wrong” with Hamlet is not him but OTHER PEOPLE. And it is the kind of structure of reality they create FOR HIM that he is unable to cope with. In this disagreement about the character of Hamlet – which, as in Dover Wilson, dates back at least to the late eighteenth century when Goethe put him down as a WEAK character – I noticed, to my own surprise, that I stood entirely on Dover Wilsons side who states that it is the “sheer weight of the load” that is too much for him to handle. I even came to the conclusion that Hamlet is probably one of the very few tragic characters that are actually tragic because of what HAPPENS TO THEM, not because of what they DO. And this even makes it more difficult to take him seriously as a tragic character! In his case – as in the case of the other main characters as well – it is probably more useful not to dwell on introspection but to look on how he reacts to what happens to him. And to figure out what happens to him in the first place. And what happens to him is that, politically and on a personal level, a structure of reality has been created where it is impossible for him to act as the person HE SHOULD BE, as well as the person HE KNOWS HE IS. Because he KNOWS, and can FEEL, that there is something in him that “passes show”, and which he knows is more important than whatever other people judge to be important, and on what they base their actions and reactions. As, at one point, everybody important to him has shown what he himself HAS FAILED to show until then: WEAKNESS.

Which, especially in the women, Getrude and Ophelia, means that, if they have had something in them which passes show, they have at one point shown weakness which resulted in betraying it and in creating a structure of betrayal that proves fatal to Hamlet. And what convinced me of my approach is that exactly the lines that “we” don’t want to hear and try to reject, suddenly gather context and make sense, as: “frailty thy name is woman”. Because “in Shakespeare” where there are so many strong women as probably nowhere else in classic literature, this frailty is supposed to be SIGNIFICANT and should raise questions about these characters and about what is actually “rotten in the state of Denmark”. Because, for Hamlet, the real problem isn’t just Claudius. It is the fact that he has nobody, apart from justice, on his side. It’s the people he actually trusted, like his mother, the woman he loves, and the people he considers to be his friends, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern who should be on his side and “help” him against Claudius, not the other way round! But Claudius has just “occupied” the position of the

“massy wheel fixed on the summit of the highest mount, to whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things are mortised and adjoined, which when it falls, each small annexment, petty consequence, attends the boistr’rous ruin …”

Which I recommend to read ALOUD so as to feel the full impact of how this wheel moves inexorably, and how heavy it actually is. So heavy in fact that people cannot find the strength to stand up against it and, because of that, let things happen that shouldn’t happen. On a political level because they don’t want to know, or don’t care, if this position of power is taken lawfully. (As, I think, Dover Wilson states correctly: everybody in the audience would have understood that it wasn’t!) On a personal level because, for various reasons, they are not strong enough to listen to that which is within them THAT PASSES SHOW. Because, to survive in this “rotten” state of reality, SHOW is actually enough! As long as there is nobody to question the state of reality created by show there is no problem. And this is actually the point where “Hamlet” is growing INCREASINGLY contemporary just now within the political reality I am living in. Where DOING NOTHING is actually the best way to survive politically. And these politicians of course don’t care and not even think about where what they DON’T DO will get us because their SHOW of activity is sufficient for people to believe in them. But they don’t believe in them, at least I think so, because they are actually THAT stupid, but because they WANT to believe that everything will stay the way it is while they are doing nothing “about it”. Which, of course, it will not! I think that lots of people are aware of the fact that, if there is no change, the world or political system we are living in will not survive. But most people, myself included, don’t want to believe this. And they don’t want to act upon it because they are not “cut out” to be heroes. But what makes Hamlet, of all people, the ideal victim for the questionable fate of becoming a hero is exactly that he totally lacks THE USUAL KIND of human weakness which makes it so easy for those that move the spokes of the “massy wheel” to manipulate people into doing what they ARE SUPPOSED TO DO.

There is another quote which I feel should be taken very seriously, and which cannot be taken seriously if we put Hamlet down as weak:

“The time is out of joint. O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!”

Because it doesn’t only suggest that Hamlet himself doesn’t feel that he is cut out to be a hero. Which, at least for me, certainly isn’t an indication of weakness but rather of good sense. (What, of course, I like a lot about Hamlet is that he is obviously very intelligent and has a shrewed sense of humour of the kind that people often don’t get it that he is actually joking. And, personally, I don’t think that being brainy is the reason for his inability to act and just “erase” the problem by using his dagger. Which is something that can of course be contested quite easily …) It is as well an indication that he is very well aware of the scope of his task which somehow passes the personal issue of revenge and redeeming his honour as well as the political issue of removing Claudius and establishing himself as the rightful king. But WHAT is this supposed to be?

At this point I somehow came to extend my perspective and started to look around for other “heroes” in Shakespeare. And the most important thing I came up with was that I wasn’t able to “dig up” more than one! There are certainly many characters that are kind of “naturally heroic”, like Othello, Macbeth, and Mark Anthony. Even Richard III, whom I think Shakespeare wanted to put up a heroic fight in the end – as he did, by the way, in “real life” where he ended up hacked to death instead of being ransomed, as kings usually did. And making them heroic certainly is meant to make them kind of attractive as a character - probably with the exception of Richard III? - but quite certainly doesn’t redeem them IN ANY WAY as a human being.

The only “real” hero I detected was Henry V. On a cursory inspection I concluded that one important issue about him might be something like an “essay on heroism” which is certainly very interesting and so shrewed that I don’t pretend to have made sense of it as yet. But it is certainly significant in some way that the only character who, in the end, emerges as a hero, wasn’t cut out to be a hero in the first place, rather the opposite! And it is certainly significant that the only character cut out to be a hero in this play, namely Henry Percy, called “Hotspur”, ends up the way he does. Trevor White, in the recent RSC production, even played him as somebody with a mild case of autism. And I think he definitely has a point there. And then there is of course Sir John Falstaff and his subversive subtext – which is even “louder” probably where it isn’t that explicit: “What is honour? A word. What is that word? Honour. What is that honour. Air. (…) Who has it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Does he hear it? No …” (Henry IV, pt. 1, act 5, scene 1)

As far as I am probably still from understanding “him” it is certainly safe to state that Shakespeare isn’t “big” on heroes. And that he even might have thought of the “classic” type of a hero as BORING and STUPID. (As I have always done myself, by the way …)

Anyway, what makes Henry V a hero, and what this character really is about, remains rather obscure. Whereas I think in “Hamlet” we might find the answer what exactly Shakespeare thought a hero is made of.

Some time ago my sister gave me a postcard I totally loved. It is like this kind of advertisement students, for example, use to search for a room, and where people can tear off small strips with their phone numbers on it. Only that, in this case, there are identical little men you can tear off, and the text says:

“Need a hero? Take one.”

And I love to analyze, in a case like this, what EXACTLY I am laughing about. And I think that I am laughing about myself and my NEED for a hero. And that I take this need seriously. But I have found out that being cynical often is a form of lying about something important, and laughing doesn’t change anything. When I had my laugh I still kind of need to believe in the POSSIBILITY of a hero, and even - maybe? - in the possibility of being one. As Richard Armitage said in an interview about playing John Proctor:

“It is such a high point to take a human being to. I don’t know if I aspire to do that myself. But I certainly aspire to be a man that could, you know, chose that.”

What I love about this quote – apart from the fact that somebody ACTUALLY said something like this IN PUBLIC - is the precision and truthfulness about the feelings implied. Because the reluctance probably implies something that I have always felt to be true, and what might be Shakespeare’s own conclusion on heroism. (And why I think I am STILL RIGHT about despising people who put their life at risk in a show of heroism for nothing but fame, and don’t feel the least bit sorry for them if they get hurt.) Namely that somebody who ASPIRES to be a hero probably is an idiot. But at the same time it is really important that we can kind of feel this FORM of heroism “in us”, in case the need for it might arise some day. And I think this is not even as unlikely as it appears on first sight. Because it might just mean as “little” as being able to realize that we still HAVE A CHOICE where we couldn’t SEE it before. For example, I like it that most productions of “Hamlet” give Gertrude a choice in the end and make it apparent that she tries to save her son, on expense of her own life, and in that way shows considerable strength, even though it is then too late. And it is not “out of character” because it might be the only thing within her that “passes show” – where she still can feel herself as a human being.

And maybe this is very naïve, but I think that this is what Benedict Cumberbatch meant when he said that every actor has a Hamlet “in him”. I don’t think, as I said, that this is literally true, as I have seen great actors play Hamlet, even in a significant way, who didn’t have a Hamlet “in them” but who played what they thought this character is about with amazing imagination and expertise. Namely Derek Jacobi and David Tennant, who obviously both had a Richard II “in them”! But Hamlet, as played by them, didn’t emerge in the way he emerged kind of “naturally” when Benedict Cumberbatch played him. Because I think he has something in him which “passes show” which enables him to play characters like Sherlock or Julian Assange in “The Fifth Estate” – which would have been my choice for an Oscar, by the way – and, of course, Hamlet, in the totally unique way he played them. As all of them are obviously “heroes”, but of the kind which doesn’t emerge as a hero on first sight. But in fact their heroism goes deeper and is more real because it is something the actor can make himself believe in, and, in that way, makes us believe in it as well. And I think that Julian Assange, as played by Benedict Cumberbatch, is even the best version of a Hamlet for our own time because he has to take on this task of “cleaning up” single-handedly, knowing that it is dangerous and can be lethal to his “mission” if he trusts anyone. And this is basically what Hamlet is about. He even has a stupid German “Horatio character” by his side, played by Daniel Brühl, who betrays him as well, in the end. Of course the two stories are quite different, but in both cases there is this person who believes that he is “born to set it right”. And the actor has to make us believe in this. Even if it passes our understanding, as it does in my case. Because I think I can CONTEMPLATE John Proctor’s choice of death over having EVERYTHING being taken away from him – even how hard it is, which probably is the reason why it is kind of painful to watch, and “catharsis” actually “works”. It wasn’t the same with Hamlet. John Proctor is, in a way, a very “basic” kind of hero, very close to himself and, by that, close to the audience. Whereas Hamlet is certainly a complex character, like Julian Assange in the film, not immediately likeable at best, probably manipulative and devious, responding to the situation he lives in of course, at worst even with a cruel streak. Which probably precludes that I can feel “cathartic grief” for his sake, as something that actually hurts. But, for the first time, in the end I didn’t feel kind of relieved that he is now “put out of his misery”. For the first time I felt sorry for him. In fact, Hamlet goes much further than I can follow. And still, I think, “we” have a dire need to believe that this kind of hero EXISTS. Maybe even more than ever.