The world hasn’t changed after all: „spotlight“ on the Oscars

So, now the Oscars are “over” again for this year, and the world is again as it was before. And of course I knew that and am ashamed of having been so excited about them! And I really have been, as I seriously considered to stay up and at least hear the updates on the radio. What a waste of time and sleep that would have been! Not just because I always forget that the Oscars here are so “late” that I would be up again about an hour anyway before they come to “best actor” and “best film”, but because I had a premonition of what would happen – at least if they did what they usually do, which, in both cases, they have done.

Well, for Leonardo DiCaprio it was to be expected anyway, and didn’t come too soon.
And I just hope that he is as happy about it as he certainly pretended to be. But I doubt it, though I don’t know how many nominations there have been. And it doesn’t happen often that an actor gets it whom I have admired in four films: “Gilbert Grape”, “The Man in the Iron Mask” (from 1998! where I actually discovered that he probably already was a significant actor), “The Departed” and “Revolutionary Road”. There an Oscar certainly would have been in order because he nailed this character as certainly nobody else could have done, though he did a bit much “for safety” as he usually does. But best actor and best actress are usually never given for the same film, and, in this case, notwithstanding how many she already had?, Kate Winslet should have got it. I don’t think there was a nomination because of this film anyway. Instead she got it for a stupid film like “Der Vorleser” – one of these films where I know it MUST HAVE BEEN stupid without having seen it. I haven’t seen “The Revenant” either, and I didn’t plan to. I planned to see “Spotlight” though, but now I certainly won’t.  I had a premonition these last few days that it would be “Spotlight” when I thought about it. No great surprise there either. And why see a film where I know in advance that I will come out “crushed” and already know why? Bloody waste of time. Or, although slightly better, see a film like “The Revenant” where I’d probably feel the same way and won’t even know why. When a film can make me laugh, which doesn’t happen too often but has happened two times very “thoroughly” just in the last month, I certainly know why! - Well, the less said on that subject the better. Why can’t I just give up hope that - in just one tiny and insignificant spot - the world might be changed for less stupid?

Strange, but I don’t. I just wrote in my diary yesterday that maybe intelligent series like “House of Cards” and “Sherlock” which a lot of people see might actually make “a difference”. Maybe they have already been the “reason” for amazingly intelligent box office productions like “The Big Short” or “Hail Ceasar!” to have come into being. Because there must be tons of intellect “out there” just waiting to be used to make “big” money - if there was a real opportunity of making this kind of money through telling stories in a different and intelligent way. On the other hand, this would spark a chain reaction by waking tons of unused intellectual potential “slumbering” “in” the audience. I even thought their success might already be an indication that people are actually getting “more intelligent” – which appears to be a scientifically proven fact. Yes, I was surprised to hear that as well (!) – especially when I consider that children hardly learn to read at school anymore, let alone write properly, in the first place. But from what I see concerning my nephews and nieces lately I am still not too pessimistic. Take my seventeen year old niece Lisa – who certainly loved “50 Shades of Grey” which just got a “razzie” and probably deserved it. (Which I again can tell without having seen the film! Though I am obviously not quite as old yet as these snobbish critics, who have forgotten, if they ever knew, what a young female audience wants. Just because most of the more “grown up” or “male” products of stupidity don’t just go unchecked but quite often get you a nomination or an Oscar!) But, apart from “50 Shades of Grey” she also loved “The Hobbit “ AND is a great fan of “Sherlock”, both of which you can certainly do or be for the “wrong” reason. One of them in this case being Benedict Cumberbatch, and I don’t mean AS AN ACTOR, of course! But it wasn’t JUST Benedict Cumberbatch because she liked Martin Freeman very much as well. And to appreciate “Sherlock” there has to be a substantial store of intelligence somewhere, even if it is usually well hidden. (By the way, I should be one to talk! Though I am still pretending that it has been “the other way round”! Well, IT WAS!!!)

So, enough of snobbishness for one day now! Because something much more important than the Oscars happened just this weekend. I took up Dover Wilson again, and the first thing I noticed was that I had “cracked” “Hamlet”. Which means I was able to answer MY question about “Hamlet” – a question which I hadn’t known how to ASK in the first place. And of course I was enormously pleased about that. Less pleased though, just now, that there will have to be YET ANOTHER chapter on “Hamlet” – THE LAST ONE, THIS TIME! And I was so much looking forward to finally see my first chapter about “The Hobbit” appear on my blog – which in the meantime I have polished to a degree that it shines like the great jewel in the film ... Well, as I am the only person who is excited about it, it doesn’t matter anyway. Although maybe still a tiny bit more than the Oscars …

Yet another appendix (for Claudia): One last thing about „Hamlet“ …

 Even though I obviously cannot find an end I still think that I am in no danger of getting started on “Hamlet” “for real” because I would have to do all the work that Dover-Wilson did – at least where the “reading” is concerned. And I suppose he will still be a much better reader than I am. Which I still think has little to do with being a scholar of Shakespeare as such. Of course it has for the purpose of publishing lasting and proven “truths” about his plays. Which is not at all what I am trying to do – but sometimes you just “fall on them”. And I don’t even think it happens very rarely if you take the text seriously – potentially all of it! (Which I think is impossible to do in “Hamlet” anyway, but Dover Wilson has gone pretty far with this.) And if you are a CONFIDENT reader, trusting your own instincts and experience. Because there are limitations to the achievements of a “historical” school of reading to which Dover Wilson belongs. And they are basically the same that I have already laid down playfully rather at the beginning of my blog. Of course we can “unearth” a lot of really important content in the play by acquiring knowledge about its historical situation and especially about how it has probably been performed at the time, as Dover Wilson proves, but it would be impossible to have a comprehensive and exact knowledge of the historical circumstances appertaining to any play from a context as remote as this - and probably any text at all. Because there are always historical facts, especially biographical, that might be much more important than the historical context, and which nobody knows anything about anymore. Basically, it doesn’t really matter if we know who Shakespeare was or not, and not even that he was a man of the theatre – which is valuable information but not at all NECESSARY to still understand what his plays are about.

By which I don’t mean at all that this kind of information isn’t very useful FOR digging up what is in the play because in “Hamlet” the biggest part literally is “below the surface”, and very little of it is stated “directly”. Which usually is the fun of it, but in “Hamlet” it is certainly an awful lot of work as well. And, whereas for example in “Macbeth” there are still only a few sentences and words I know I don’t understand, in “Hamlet” there is still a lot. One of the reasons for it I understood reading Dover Wilson, because there is so much ironic content there, and that largely rests on quoting proverbs or colloquialisms that “we” don’t understand anymore – much more than in most of the other plays. And a lot of it is quite important, even for understanding a reply or a whole scene. So, at least in “Hamlet”, there is a language barrier there still, for me. Here I am moving on even thinner ice than I usually do, and I am well aware of it.

Nonetheless, in my opinion, there is something which is always “there” when we are reading something – or are watching it in the theatre. Which is the potential existence of THE COMPLETE TEXT “in” the person who is doing the reading. Which is always a process that gets terminated somehow but can always potentially go on. And as there certainly is a great danger of going wrong in a “subjective” reading process because we single out part of the text according to what we think is important concerning our own personal situation and experience, there is, in my opinion, exactly the same danger in selecting part of the historical information, or what we think we know about Shakespeare, to “pin down” the meaning of the text. And, in my personal experience, there are much more examples of this kind of going definitely wrong by selecting single historical issues than by trying to seriously connect with the complete text AS A HUMAN BEING. Because I am convinced that it is human beings these texts were written and performed for, though partly human beings who were scholars as well, of course. But mainly intelligent human beings with a sense of humour and an ability to FEEL. And I am convinced there are still more of them among us than we usually think, if they’d just try and give it a go. And that’s the reason I think we always “have” the complete text at our disposal, everything that is really important, though there might be different degrees of difficulty of getting at it. (I remember that in “The Crucible” I had the impression that the COMPLETE text was given to me so clearly by the actors that I am not THAT pissed off of not being able to see it again as I usually would have been. Though I am, of course! Whereas “Hamlet” is definitely something like a black piste which requires a “daring” reader. And I obviously like to be that, even though there ensued some very questionable reading in this case. Though no “real damage” or “life-changing” experience so far.) And I think, by the way, that’s basically what Schiller wrote. And what I found astonishing about reading “him” was that I found myself in total agreement with him about this – I’d never have thought!

(And if more of the kind of readers I just described would read my blog I could recommend to them the next very entertaining and intelligent U.S. film I have seen: “Hail Caesar!” Which contains a satirical but, in the end, moving version of the “idealist” dilemma.  At least I found it moving  (and hilarious at the same time) when George Clooney as Hollywood star Baird Whitlock overcomes his temporary “infection” with communism and moves everybody on the set , and presumably the audience in the cinema!, by pleading exactly the same values the communists stand for. Not because of WHAT he says, I think I barely noticed!, but because of the superior and convincing display of the emotional content. The ultimate triumph of “matter” becoming “form” – which, as stated in this film,  might very much be the point of what “Hollywood” is about …)

But now to the reason I wrote this (last?) appendix and dedicated it to Claudia. We had another long conversations about Shakespeare and other things we “read” just last week, and she brought up an issue which I later recognized as rather important, and which lead to another discovery concerning “Hamlet”. It was an issue that scholars obviously have agreed on – and I judge they are right because it was basically about what puzzled me about Hamlet and on what I had hit myself the moment I came to look for other “heroes” in Shakespeare. Even earlier, actually, quite in the beginning when I began to develop an interest in Hamlet because of the perspective of Benedict Cumberbatch playing him. And in this case the historical point of view is rather crucial – though not something that you couldn’t dig up using very general historical knowledge.  But, in this case, THINKING of the play as something with a “place” in history, is rather helpful and revealing. Because “Hamlet” is seen as a play where two different frames of reference for judging human beings exist. I already figured out that, for example, in “Macbeth” there actually IS a dilemma because there is not just the inhuman act of killing somebody who is his kinsman and his king, but the question what will become of his life when he doesn’t take his one “career opportunity”.  And what makes it a potentially “tragic” decision is that he feels the pressure of this and is finally unable to overcome it – though he knows he should.  But he can’t because he is completely “held” by an outdated frame of reference that is basically much “older” than Shakespeare himself, but still relevant and understandable to his audience. So, Macbeth’s potential “happiness” comes to an end THE MOMENT the witches hail him as king. It’s what seals his fate. And he doesn’t know it …

Hamlet knows, though. He knows what happiness really depends on, which is – as he talks about with Horatio – true peace of mind. And, deep inside, he probably isn’t convinced that he will achieve that by doing his duty: to kill Claudius and to become king. But what probably makes “Hamlet” so especially complicated is that the new frame of reference wasn’t really “there” yet. At least not for Hamlet himself who believes that he has to do his duty, and that there is basically no way out. I think we have to take it more seriously than we would in a contemporary context how Macbeth is always picked on by his wife for not being a “man”. Because, if he isn’t a man – WHAT is he? And maybe – just maybe!  - trying to find a “way out”, somehow, being inventive about the fact that there MIGHT BE a choice, is what makes Hamlet special, and why I saw him as potentially “heroic” – which is highly questionable of course. Not being a man somehow just doesn’t appear to be top of the list of his problems. There is very thin evidence still, but maybe “Hamlet” is about the appearance of a new “species” of mankind which we think we are so familiar with and which I would call an “individual”.  But, at the time, this might have been kind of a heroic existence. Probably still is?

Of course I rather like heroes with swords, and there are still lots of them “out there”. Take your pick! But everybody will probably agree that being a ruthless fighter doesn’t make Macbeth a “hero”. But what it is that makes a hero, even though it appears important to me, I don’t think I figured that out yet. And there are of course different forms of heroism. But maybe the point here is that it may be too difficult for Hamlet himself to figure out. Maybe even Shakespeare himself didn’t, in the end. And I’d rather like to think that everybody who “does” Hamlet, and every audience that watches the play, tries to figure it out for themselves every time this happens. Like I did. And isn’t THAT great!

Appendix to the appendix about „Hamlet“: perpetual “reload”?

The week before last “Hamlet” got “reloaded” unintentionally, as usually happens by going to the cinema. I saw “The Big Short” which is an amazing film, outstanding, even taking into account all the amazing U.S. film productions I have seen just in the last year (like “Boyhood”, “Carol”, and “Steve Jobs”). But this film – I just sat there, literally with my mouth open and couldn’t believe it. And I thought: There must be hope for this world if people actually can make such an outstandingly intelligent and intrinsically funny film about this kind of issue. Even though nobody laughed except myself, which was kind of embarrassing. So I have no proof that anybody else understood the film which was rather difficult to “follow” of course. Without the German subtitles I wouldn’t have understood ANYTHING, but I am rather used to that. I am so glad I went to see it even though there is Brad Pitt in it. But that wasn’t a problem anyway because I didn’t recognize him.

What is even more amazing than the film itself is probably that it made the short-list for the Oscars. I am usually not interested in the Oscars at all, but in this case I checked immediately. And who knows – of course I don’t believe that it will make it. But I promise: If either “The Big Short” gets the Oscar for “best film” or Michael Fassbender gets “best actor” for “Steve Jobs” I will celebrate. And if both of this happens – which would be more of luck than EVEN I have had in the last few years – I will certainly get drunk, even if I have to do it on my own! Because nobody will understand my NEED to celebrate in this case, and I even know that it is stupid. Because the Oscar wouldn’t make me “more right” now than I was right about being pissed off about Susan Sarandon getting the Oscar for “Dead Man Walking” whereas Sean Penn got nothing, and his’ was probably the most remarkable feat of acting I had seen until then. (Well, in the long run: he has two of them now, I think, and he got “best actor” in Cannes for this one, which I remember having been enormously pleased with.) But this was probably when I stopped caring about the Oscars. Now I might even take it up again - but especially continue to watch U.S. films again, as I have already started to do in the last few years.

But about “Hamlet” … The “reload” happened when I left the cinema and suddenly that thought struck me: I am beginning to understand now! (And I think this might as well happen AGAIN more than a few times.) This time it was about Hamlet’s madness, an issue I have always dodged – like a couple of other important issues in the play – until I saw David Tennant’s Hamlet. Which made me think: I don’t think he really “got it” but there must be a REAL reason for Hamlet to “become mad”. That is, another reason than the requirements of plot or even Hamlet’s own reason of strategy. Because, just as a strategy, faking madness isn’t really a good idea. Mostly because, under normal circumstances, it must be incredibly difficult to “keep up” all the time. So there must be a real reason for him. Maybe that he HAS TO do it to make it easier for him to “survive” under these circumstances. I even think it must be for him kind of a “natural reaction” to what his world has become, and, consequently, not really difficult to “fake”. Something that he WANTS to do because it allows him to finally speak the truth in a world that is fundamentally deceitful.  But how much truth there is, and how much strategy, is of course difficult to decide. I think this was how I CHOSE to understand it when I saw Benedict Cumberbatch as Hamlet.

But to understand THIS you really must have an idea of what the world has become for him. The RSC used this broken mirror – which I understood as an incredibly powerful visual metaphor for the kind of “prison” Denmark has become for Hamlet. But as a visual metaphor it doesn’t SAY what it means, and “we” have to fill in the content ourselves. Which is difficult, exactly BECAUSE we think we know “Hamlet” so well – to a point that we got used to what happens to the main character.  And we need to use something like this distorting or magnifying glass to understand what he is going through. And, I think, in a fictional text, we are required not just to understand it but to FEEL it. Which was for me finally achieved by recognizing “The Big Short” as an “emotional” metaphor for what Shakespeare aimed at in “Hamlet”. And this is a state of reality that is at the same time kind of unreal, unbelievable, and genuinely threatening. I think this is why Shakespeare chose to “unsettle” the audience by trying to make them realize that they don’t understand anything, just when they think they do.

And when I have this general metaphor of something I ACTUALLY FELT as a “sample” of how Hamlet must have been feeling – adding to this that, for him, it was the state of HIS OWN PERSONAL WORLD that is at stake! – I suddenly can PLACE the issues I HAD understood and feel the weight and importance they might have for Hamlet. For example, I couldn’t understand the scandal Hamlet is feeling about his mother marrying his uncle. Dover Wilson enlightened me a bit on this issue, but I cannot see any proof in the play that there must have been unfaithfulness before his father’s death, and he gives none. And marrying the brother after one’s husband’s death was a very common thing, at least in the Middle Ages, certainly not “incest”(!), so I didn’t – and probably don’t – understand (yet?) what is the most important cause for Hamlet’s depression BEFORE he meets his father’s ghost. He obviously hates his uncle though we don’t really know why. But I somehow understood the scandal nobody is talking about, the question that is never raised: Why didn’t Hamlet become king after his father’s death? And I understood then the scope of Gertrude’s betrayal towards her son. Because, without the prospect of marrying the present queen, Claudius wouldn’t have been elected. And I think that was the moment I began to understand that there is DEFINITELY something wrong here – before we learn about the murder.

But there is another parallel still, even more important than the “state of the world”. Because what “The Big Short” analyzes in an absurdly funny – and finally the more enlightening – way is what happens when you start to ACT UPON THE TRUTH. Which is TRAGEDY. Which is people being unable to pay their mortgages, families losing their homes, and, in the end, people dying. And this realization is even more unsettling than I care to think. Of course we know that lying about the actual state of something cannot go on FOREVER. But it can go on for an amazing length of time. And, frankly, what is the state of the U.S. national budget JUST NOW? I don’t know, of course, and I don’t want to know! And I don’t want to know what will probably happen if the truth about it finally “gets out” – which is all the people “in charge” are continually trying to keep under the radar … Now just try, for a moment, to take WHAT HAPPENS IN “HAMLET” seriously, which is what I am trying to do: What if these idiots just hadn’t told Hamlet about the ghost? What would have happened then? Who knows. The only thing we can be rather certain of is that fewer people would have died …

And I have now come one step closer approaching an issue that is probably even the most important to me. It is about the value and USEFULNESS of significant works of fiction. Which means what they can actually BE USED FOR. Even apart from what I have stated already a few times – that you can use them to understand other texts and even the structure of “real life issues” and, in some cases, the nature of your own real life experience. Which is probably not in every case because they literally contain the “truth” about these issues, but because, in a way, you have to repeat or double these structures to analyze and understand them. And because understanding them “theoretically” often isn’t enough. There has to be an emotional content that you can only find in fiction. And, because of that, you create some kind of memory about these things. Which is unlike the kind of memory we acquire through trauma in real life, which is rarely useful and can hurt us permanently. Because, however perversely, we have ENJOYED these moments when we actually “lived” them. Often because of a sense of humour, or an “innate” understanding of structure and beauty, or maybe even because of a sense of freedom: that we are free to choose IF this is about ourselves or not. That we are free to “take on” this depth of feeling which would be kind of inadequate in real life. I am speculating, I DO NOT KNOW why my worst moment in “The Crucible” was actually my best moment watching it. It was only afterwards that I thought: What right has this self-important author to tell me the truth ABOUT MYSELF? Might be that I really understood only afterwards when I had the leisure to think about it. But I wouldn’t have REMEMBERED this moment if I hadn’t felt the truth and importance of it ALREADY THEN.

Anyway, everybody knows that we easily forget knowledge acquired “theoretically”, but by reading fiction, and remembering what we have “lived through” reading it, we acquire layers and layers of memory that can be used over and over again – and, by being used, develop new layers and change on and on, changing us …

(And, of course, by now, having read some more of Dover Wilson in the meantime, I have realized that I have now probably reached the point where I could GET STARTED on “Hamlet”.  This book is great, by the way, driven by an amazing ability to READ what is actually in the text and make sense of it, and, what is of even greater interest to me, of making his method of reading transparent. His argument is so convincing that it took some time for me to find out that I fundamentally disagree with him about Hamlet because of what he states to be the right method of “reading” the play, and the character. Which was an exciting discovery, but, as he is so much better, he’ll “beat” me. At least at the moment I don’t feel that I am up for the challenge. In any case: a book that survived a century because it is so relevant, and I am grateful for the recommendation!)

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.