It’s been three months since kicking off Hamlet, and at that point, nearly two decades since my last reading and teaching of the play, I began thinking this was a play about royal succession, maybe some kind of oblique metaphor or literary handwringing over the future passing of Elizabeth. That didn’t last long, and it melded into a vague discussion of what it means to be a king, and how and why Hamlet would never reach that height. I toyed with the theme of madness for a while, but I just couldn’t (and still don’t) see this play in any way, shape or form, about real mental illness (at least not so far as Hamlet is concerned… and as I’ve mentioned before, I’m not so sure that Ophelia is mad so much as situationally desperate). No, as I continued to go over this play, I kept coming back to the same motif:
Not madness, but playing madness. Playing at what isn’t real. Which is fascinating in the same way baseball is philosophically interesting. But intrinsically interesting? Not so much. I know I can’t take a three-hour long baseball game. Give me an hour-long water polo game, any day.
So…
Where do I stand on Hamlet? Continue reading “Hamlet: the Wrap-Up”