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Post by jamiezimmerman on Mar 4, 2014 6:01:27 GMT
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Post by jamiezimmerman on Mar 4, 2014 6:43:11 GMT
The beautiful argument O'Rourke makes is that Hamlet can be any age, and it's left to the reader once again to choose how they visualize Hamlet. A suddenly bereaved person of any age will likely have this response - this crushing agony, existential questions about the point of life, and inability to find any resolve in a course of action. O'Rourke didn't mention it too much, but maybe the reason Hamlet doesn't get around to killing Claudius is that he questions whether or not revenge will really make things any better. Hamlet (and, similarly, O'Rourke) spends a lot of time questioning the nature of our humanity. They both question if it's really worth all the struggle.
Hamlet remarks,
"How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!" I.II.133-134
Things haven't really improved by the time of his To Be or Not to Be soliloquy. Will killing Claudius really make thoughts like these go away? This might suggest, though, that Hamlet is older than we think. He is smart enough to realize that his actions might not really alleviate the pain. If he were younger, he might act on his impetuous nature and easily be led into believing that the Ghost tells the truth in their first encounter. But where would he be then? If he is young, he might still be foolish enough to think that everything is better. However, a young Hamlet would probably face an alienated mother, a destabilized throne, and a multitude of introspective faults and guilt to handle. So this reading suggests he is a bit older. Moreover, in his soliloquy at the end of Act II Scene II, Hamlet reasons that he might have been won over in the moment and that he needs more substantial proof that his uncle killed his father.
Hamlet says,
"The spirit that I have seen
May be the devil, and the devil hath power
T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps,
Out of my weakness and melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,
Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
More relative than this" II.II526-532
All of this high-level thinking indicates that Hamlet has had enough life experience to consider the consequences of his actions and the ability to take a step back and think of a meta-reality.
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Post by jessicapollard on Mar 4, 2014 20:01:39 GMT
After reading this, I'm feeling guilty for all the punches we've thrown at Hamlet in class... I'm not entirely sure I agree with what O'Rourke's establishes in her article, seeing as Hamlet didn't appear to be very close with his father. Then again, I've never lost anyone extremely close to me through blood or love, so I have no place to talk. I do, however, really like the idea that Hamlet is an examination of sadness, guilt and the importance of emotions in general, as all of the characters falter in belittling Hamlet's feelings.
O'Rourke's response solidifies, for me, the purpose of literature and art in general. The connection and deeper understanding she's built with Hamlet has helped her to come to terms with things in life that are really difficult, and whether Shakespeare meant to do that or not, I remain in awe.
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Post by moreno on Mar 4, 2014 21:59:07 GMT
I really like and appreciate this article. Like Jessica says above, "the connection and deeper understanding she's built with Hamlet has helped her to come to terms with things in life that are really difficult..." I agree that the beauty of art and literature is that people are able to connect with it on a deeper level and apply it to their own realities. I've always liked Hamlet, maybe because I sympathize with him regardless of the type of relationship he had with his father. I think grief can make you depressed, and I think depression can make people crazy, or at least feel crazy.
O'Rourke wrote, "Grief, Shakespeare understands, is a social experience. It's not just that Hamlet is sad; it's that everyone around him is unnerved by his grief. And Shakespeare doesn't flinch from that truth." I love this. Not only is it a tribute to Shakespeare's genius, but it also speaks to the reader and how universal our feelings really are. I appreciate O'Rourke defending Hamlet and opening up so that others can better understand the purpose of Hamlet's character and the overlaps between fiction and reality.
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Post by garygates on Mar 4, 2014 23:00:38 GMT
This article did nothing especially eye-opening for me. Yes, maybe I have read Hamlet believing that Hamlet's actions were a result of a state of depression-caused lunacy, as opposed to the grief that O'Rourke explains, but the way in which I explain and focus Hamlet's altered attitude implies the same ideas as O'Rourke's grief explanation. Without a new real twist to look on the story itself, part of me wants to say that the article was not really helpful or worthwhile because plot-wise, it did not test my comfort with the novel whatsoever.
This being said, I did in fact find some value in the article. The value was seeing (I guess "firsthand"?) how mood and circumstance affect reading and interpretation. This in itself is one of the most valuable characteristics of literature. Literature is not concrete. We are able, with enough force and struggle, to mold a piece of art into helping fortify our opinions or our desires. This idea gives me a little insight into my own reading of Hamlet, the real reason for which I enjoyed O'Rourke's article. For instance, this idea explains why I sympathized and fought for Hamlet's honor, despite his obvious misogyny, when I myself felt a little misunderstood, or why I radically changed my viewpoints on Hamlet and argued against his cowardice when I was bloodthirsty for violence and Claudius' death. This article, in a nutshell, really demonstrates and strengthens the Reader Response Lens. The reader response lens is the most versatile lens because it incorporates circumstance and accounts for the variability of human emotion. So while I hope that I never have to read Hamlet in the same manner that O'Rourke interprets Shakespeare's work, I know that every day grants a different and unique perspective on literature.
Damn, I really wanted to stop there because I thought that was a poignant and well developed sentence to end on but now my mind's dragging me to new ideas. Through my analysis of O'Rourke's analysis of Hamlet and my conclusion of the variability of the reader response lens I stumbled upon quite a scary and uncomfortable notion, at least for me. If we, as readers, are always viewing works differently as a result of our own environment and changing moods, does that not also alter our consistency of opinion and morals and values in general. By this, I mean to say, are we not always in an infinite tumultuousness of ideas and mind? Constancy would then be inconceivable and we would then really have no permanent ideals because although we may hold certain items closer to heart, our opinions of them would always differ. And so it is explained the flawed beauty of humanity: we never are really just one black or white image, but an amalgamation of all our variable viewpoints, as so is the self that Siddhartha discovers. Man, it sure is funny how cyclical life is.
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Post by hannahlewman on Mar 4, 2014 23:35:14 GMT
This completely shook my mental ant farm.
Maybe I'm a just a bad reader, but I feel like Shakespeare is not something I've ever felt. As soon as I hear the word Shakespeare, my brain puts up a glass case around whatever text I'm reading. Once that glass case, that velvet rope, is up, I'm in museum mode. Shakespeare's works are relics, they are to be analyzed and translated and studied. Never before have I thought of Shakespeare's works as something to relate to, something to feel. And not until I read O'Rourke's article did I even question the way I read Shakespeare. I never really thought anyone FELT Shakespeare's works, with the exception of the Robin Williamses of the world delivering really dramatic soliloquies. Now that I think about it, though, why shouldn't we feel Shakespeare? The dude isn't famous because he writes in fancy patterns, the dude is famous because he writes amazing characters who speak in really punny, fancy ways. Maybe the reason I've never been too crazy about Shakespeare is because I've been reading him as a type of rhyme scheme, not as an author capable of relatable (I know, Ms. Aalberg. That's not a word) characters.
Wow. Shifting my angle and looking at this in the emotional, O'Rourke way makes the play so much more real. I like Hamlet ten thousand times more after reading this article and now I want to go back and re-read all the other Shakespeare works I brushed over.
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Post by sheridanf on Mar 5, 2014 0:28:57 GMT
I had the same reaction as Hannah to reading this article. It's easy to forget that 17th century emotion is real emotion, especially when the subjects are as lofty as love or death or duty. It takes an article like this to pull the high up clouds of Shakespeare's plays back down to Earth.
It's also easy to forget sometimes that Hamlet is grieving. After Hamlet meets Ghost Dad, is given his destiny, and proclaims that vengeance is the only thing on his mind, we switch out sad Hamlet for smart, plotting, clever Hamlet. But really, he's still sad Hamlet. If anything, he becomes plotting Hamlet to deal with sad Hamlet. His meeting with Ghost Dad gives him something to do other than grieve. It gives him an outlet that, he hopes, might allow him to deal with his grief. The "method to his madness" might not just be witty phrases or a way to kill crappy Uncle; it's also to cope, because it's easier to be crazy than to hurt all the time. And Hamlet definitely has a lot of hurt to deal with.
This article also makes me mad at myself. I often find myself sometimes dismissing the dramatic nature of Hamlet as him being an inexperienced teenager, but, as the article reminds us, we can grieve at any age. Also, as readers, we never get to see Hamlet when he isn't hurting, so who knows who he actually is behind all of the grief? Maybe we aren't even seeing the "real" Hamlet, just a projection that he puts up to deal with all of the suck in his life. We can't blame Hamlet for his actions without first noting his very real situation (except for maybe killing Polonius. Dunno if I can just let that go).
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Post by jessicalee on Mar 5, 2014 0:44:06 GMT
I never found Hamlet to be a personable character... and I still don't. But this article did shine a new light on Hamlet's otherwise obscure nature. I will admit that I can very much relate to O'Rourke and what she (and Hamlet) has gone through. I know the feeling of losing a beloved family member. I'll cut right to the chase and say, it hurts. There's no getting around that.
Keeping these emotions in mind, I can see Hamlet in a much more sympathetic light. (Ahh the power of Reader Response criticism!) At the same time, however, having gone through a similar experience as Hamlet, I know that it's possible to keep one's emotions under control- or at least to the point of not killing someone. Hamlet may be grieving, but it is no excuse for bloodlust.
With that being said, I do think O'Rourke makes an interesting point about the universality and the flux of literature. If we read Hamlet as a play about a boy/man going through a time of grief, the play instantly becomes more universal. In this sense, literature can be interpreted in many different ways, with each interpretation conveying a new meaning. And that is the beauty of literature.
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Post by Lacey Doby on Mar 5, 2014 2:07:24 GMT
In every analysis of Hamlet I have made, I have tried to give him some crazy, complicated reason for how he acts and what he says, but blaming it all of grief is so much simpler.
However, while his grief justifies a lot of things (his suicidal thoughts, his inappropriate sense of humor, the feelings he has towards other characters and the world), I still feel like there must be something else going on.
Though grief is a powerful, world altering thing, Hamlet really takes it to a whole new level. He becomes so radically disconnected from reality that he hardly seems to care that he just stabbed and killed an innocent (if you can call him that) man in front of his mother IN HER BEDROOM and choses instead to talk about how and why she upsets him. Hamlet, dude, you just killed a guy in front of your mother and now you are saying SHE upsets YOU? Someone needs to straighten out his priorities.
I think the grief set him off but it doesn't excuse everything.
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Post by anaritter on Mar 5, 2014 2:09:12 GMT
If anything, this article helped me, like Hannah, connect with a piece of literature that has never been resonant with me. I guess it just can be difficult as a 21st century reader to place yourself in the Elizabethan world, though the themes and emotions are universal.
To address what many people have said about Hamlet's grief not being just grief, as he is violent and has these rampant homicidal and suicidal thoughts, I think Shakespeare's Hamlet is just an exaggeration of the emotion of grief, personified in a young man. When a family member or close friend dies, we may not think about murdering another family member or killing ourselves, but there are two things to take into account: few (if any) of us have had family or friends be murdered. That adds a whole new element of anger and blame and fear to the grief. Additionally, don't we sometimes feel extremely diluted versions of what Hamlet feels in the way of homicide or suicide? This might be a long shot, but in the usual stages of grief, (though everyone's grief is manifested differently) we go through an intense period of anger in which maybe it isn't too far to consider homicide. We would never actually act on it (similar to Hamlet and his inaction), but sure, in a dark place, having lost a close family member, we might go there. Similarly, we might humor the idea of suicide.
I would argue that the author of the article perfectly explains the way that our modern understanding of grief applies to Hamlet's grief throughout the entire play, and I would argue that Hamlet doesn't stray from that common grief pattern at all - his is just more intense because of the circumstances.
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Post by cassiecumberland on Mar 5, 2014 2:11:43 GMT
I think that it is super easy for us, as outside observers, to put characters (or our peers) in boxes. Characters like Hamlet are no exception. I was starting to truly dislike Hamlet as a character, but after reading O'Rourke's article, I feel myself recentralizing on the main conflict-the death of King Hamlet. I truly couldn't imagine the feeling of losing a parent, no matter how unspecified the relationship between kid and parent is. I have nightmares about losing my parents sometimes  . Now, I can begin to fathom and even consider Hamlet's actions on a more personal level instead of just as a completely separated bystander. I'd like to take a quick moment to give Mr Parris props for always challenging us as readers to ask the hard questions... example being "why doesn't Hamlet kill Claudius?" where after, we take time to consider all possibilities, including the harsh reality that killing someone isn't as easy as talking about killing someone. Oh, sympathy! I cannot wait to see where this play leads me in both my world view and understanding of Shakespeare's incredible work. |
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Post by emilybrinkmann on Mar 5, 2014 2:20:46 GMT
I think that O'Rourke brings up some very interesting ideas, but I don't think it gives Hamlet a free pass. My interpretation and frustration with Hamlet remains the same because he can't seem to figure things out. Understanding that his father just died and his mother married his uncle, Hamlet doesn't take responsibility for his emotions, particularly grief. O'Rourke writes, "Hamlet's moodiness and irascibility suddenly seemed deeply connected to the fact that his father has just died, and he doesn't know how to handle it". This really frustrated me because I feel like it is the common standard not to know how to handle that situation. Nobody would really be able to know how to go through exactly what Hamlet is going through, but that doesn't give him a free pass.
The article did say something that I very much agreed with though and really liked. "To mourn is to wonder at the strangeness that grief is not written all over your face in bruised hieroglyphics" (O'Rourke). Everyone has gone through something hard and wether it constitutes as grief and not just sadness is indifferent to my point; lots of people have had the feeling of being lost and hollow in your own body and wondering how everybody is not staring at you as you walk down the street.
I do think the article brought up some interesting and valid points but it did not persuade me to excuse Hamlet's behavior in anyway.
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Post by clairem on Mar 5, 2014 2:28:10 GMT
When reading works of literature we, as readers, make our own interpretations of what the author intended a character to be like. For example someone may view Hamlet as a rather young character who is foolish and another reader might perceive him to be a mature 30 year old making thoughtful and planned decisions. Well, as I have been reading Hamlet I have made him up to be a rash and volatile teenager acting solely on his insane and destructive impulses. After reading O'Rourke's article I can't say that I have completely reformed my thoughts but I am working harder to see these tendencies of grief rather than depression that lie in the character of Hamlet. One of the most interesting lines that O'Rourke stated was, "No wonder Hamlet said, "… for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Grief can also make you feel, like Hamlet, strangely flat. Nor is it ennobling, as Hamlet drives home. It makes you at once vulnerable and self-absorbed, needy and standoffish, knotted up inside, even punitive." Some of these adjectives that O'Rourke listed seemed to perfectly describe Hamlet as a character in my eyes, such as self-absorbed and standoffish. The thing that opened my eyes were the words that she paired them with that brought out a pang of sympathy from inside me, vulnerable and needy. Maybe I had been ignoring all along the fact that Hamlet was never given time to deal with his grief and the way he acts is merely a byproduct of the madness that has enveloped him. In the end though I have to agree with Jessica that there is just, "no excuse for bloodlust." O'Rourke highlighted a few tendencies of Hamlet I had already observed, but mostly brought to light a variety of explanations for his behavior that linked to a cause, grief, that I hadn't previously given much thought to. Though I knew he would be sad about his father's death, I never factored in the possibility of this mourning into the way that Hamlet reacts in the play. Also I really appreciated how O'Rourke was able to compare modern day examples to the text such as the way Cladius asks Hamlet why he is still grieving just as her friend did a mere 14 days after the death of her mother. It made her arguments seem very relevant while also being classic and grounded in the text. This article opened my eyes to new ways of viewing Hamlet but didn't make me feel the need to repent every judgment I ever passed on him, only reread parts to greater understand the pain he is going through.
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Post by gracepark on Mar 5, 2014 2:35:12 GMT
To me, Hamlet was exactly that: “depressive, self-obsessed” and someone who just could not “stop chewing at big metaphysical questions.” But after reading O’Rourke’s article, I realize how much of a terrible reader I was. Too often, as readers, we tend to lose sight of our own interpretation when we choose to yield a little room for character influences. Through the eyes of multiple characters – Claudius, Gertrude, Ophelia, Polonius, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (aka pretty much the entire cast) – we see Hamlet as this crazy, insane character spitting out sexual innuendos and ridiculous puns. And once we see this reoccurring image of Hamlet through the characters’ lens, we subconsciously start distorting our own view of Hamlet as this crazy, insane character. And that’s why something like “The Long Goodbye” catches us off guard.
Too often, it’s hard to discover such an intimate and human-to-human connection with a character that is simply developed on a thin piece of paper. It requires work from both the author and the reader. But in this play, Shakespeare seems to have done his part in delivering this whole, three-dimensional character right before our eyes. Unfortunately, it was only though O’Rourke’s article that we were able to meet him halfway. Like the rest of us, this piece hit me right at the heart. Hamlet isn’t depressed – he’s grieving. Yet he’s not even given the time to. And I think that’s where we really start to place Hamlet under a sympathetic light. Just as O’Rourke points out, Hamlet is not granted even a moment to mourn for his beloved father’s death. His own mother, the wife of his murdered father, marries his uncle and already, Claudius is announced as king. So what else can Hamlet do? All he’s capable of is expressing his grief in all different manners. But no one seems to be listening. His run-on sentences, his puns, his madness, his attempts to “make sense in a world tyrannized by false logic” are all dismissed as some fanatic act. And I think that’s what breaks my heart. Here we have a character, deprived of the very basic humane treatment, screaming out his pain and suffering to a cold, deaf audience. But what breaks my heart even more is that I, too, was once part of that audience – completely oblivious to the cries of a character that was really grieving.
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Post by Lauren on Mar 5, 2014 2:51:27 GMT
I, like many of you guys already said, was shown a new insight into Hamlet through this piece. Of all the theories, analyses and ideas on the play we've read so far, this was by far my favorite. I love it because I as a human can connect with the ideas she's presenting. Grief is a really overwhelming feeling, and it serves as an excellent reason for Hamlet's craziness. I agree with the author's ideas that "Grief, Shakespeare understands, is a social experience" and "This tension between your private sadness and the busy old world is a huge part of what I feel as I grieve". I think this analysis also opens up great insight on what an impact one person's grief can have on others. It's the fact that Hamlet's grief drives him to insanity that really makes an effect on the play. The comparison of Hamlet to his mother especially shows how people deal with loss differently. Jumping on what Ana said, Hamlet deals with his father being murdered which sets him into very deep anger. Gertrude deals with her husband dying of "natural causes" and is able to recover fast. Since everyone reacts to situations differently, it makes perfect sense that Hamlet might be driven to murder and yet other characters can move on faster with their lives. Hamlet goes through normal grief, just his own interpretation of grief.
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. Now, I can begin to fathom and even consider Hamlet's actions on a more personal level instead of just as a completely separated bystander.
