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Post by stever on Mar 5, 2014 2:52:26 GMT
This article really changed my perception of Hamlet. While reading the play, I have been basically diagnosing Hamlet with psychological disorders. He seems clinically depressed, he appears to have anger management issues, and his mood swings seem to be a sign of bipolar disorder. Most of us simply call Hamlet "insane," or at least suspect that he is pretending to be "insane," even though this word does not do much justice to the intricacies of his behavior. This article pointed out that all of Hamlet's odd idiosyncrasies might just be a symptoms of grieving. I believe that when someone has suffered a great loss, they go through a specified grieving or mourning period in which doctors cannot diagnose them with certain disorders (like depression) because the behaviors that come with grieving are often the same as the symptoms of those disorders. This is why we keep "diagnosing" Hamlet: the symptoms of grieving are disguising themselves as symptoms of other disorders or insanity.
I looked up some of the stages of grieving and loss, and I saw that several of them coincided with things that Hamlet has been doing. The steps are:
1 - Denial and Isolation (The ghost of Hamlet's father represents his denial, it is like the personification of the hope that he is not gone. Hamlet has also been isolated himself from those important to him, like Ophelia, and talks to himself on his own frequently.)
2 - Anger (This is pretty evident throughout Hamlet's Soliloquies.)
3 - Bargaining/Need to regain control (Hamlet's desire to kill Claudius demonstrates a desire to take control over his situation.)
4 - Depression (Hamlet is pretty depressed... need I say more?)
5 - Acceptance (This has yet to happen, but there is still hope! Though I somehow doubt it since this is "The TRAGEDY of Hamlet.")
It's pretty clear that many of Hamlet's abnormal actions are normal elements of the process of grieving. I think it was difficult to see this initially because I think that grieving is very difficult to understand if you are not experiencing it.. This reading of the play gives me a lot more insight into the character of Hamlet, and I am a bit surprised I did not see this reading of the play initially.
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Post by natalieskowlund on Mar 5, 2014 3:00:05 GMT
I hate to pull the "us vs. them" card, but I'm going to briefly--just keep in mind that my intent is not to point fingers. By "us vs. them," I mean those who have experienced grief vs. those who haven't. The thing is, I think this article can be read two different ways, depending on which one you are. A few months ago, I might have read this article and felt it was a sappy attempt to find some sympathy in Hamlet's character. Yet, after recently experiencing a loss of my own, I believe O' Rourke gets "Hamlet" completely right. Grief is something that can only be understood once you have experienced it yourself--otherwise, it is like viewing a terminally ill patient from behind a sound-proof glass window. In that instance, you can sympathize with the patient and feel sad, but you do not understand what it is like to be one of the people in the room with the patient, watching as she slowly fades and gives herself up to death as you stand by, unable to do anything.
O' Rourke's article reminded me that...wait a minute...Hamlet is not just some mentally-unstable, angry, depressive, hormonal teenager. This is a young man who is not only at a pivotal time in his life--making the extremely difficult transition from the simplistic thinking of childhood to the more chaotic and complex musings of adulthood, but also facing the sudden and recent death of his father, arguably the person an adolescent male is most likely to look up to. Thus, while Hamlet has not yet fully formed his views of the meaning of life, he now must do so within the context of his own father's demise. And, as O' Rourke writes, "Grief is a bad moon, a sleeper wave. It's like having an inner combatant, a saboteur who, at the slightest change in the sunlight, or at the first notes of a jingle for a dog food commercial, will flick the memory switch, bringing tears to your eyes." Hamlet seems "mad" not because he is a villain ready to pounce upon Claudius at any moment, but because he is the victim of his own horrible sorrow, unable to control his reactions to circumstances that once seemed normal. Moreover, the crazier he acts, the more everyone around him begins to isolate themselves from him out of fear , perpetuating a cycle of insanity which feeds upon the notion that everyone else believes there is something wrong with Hamlet.
After finishing O' Rourke's article, I suddenly felt so much more innately connected to the play as a whole. And it made me wonder...is "Hamlet" truly about a few people gone mad in a sane world, or is it perhaps a tale of people coping with the dark parts of reality the only way they know how in a world so insane that it represses those emotions that are so fundamentally human? Perhaps "Hamlet" is not known for its "play within a play" because of the literal scene, but because "Hamlet" is about characters acting out their parts in an attempt to disguise their own humanity.
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Post by austinellerbruch on Mar 5, 2014 3:07:02 GMT
Though I do appreciate the depth of O'Rourke's interpretation of Hamlet, I personally do not posit grief to be the source of Hamlet's madness. To be honest, I am still dwelling upon what exactly the source of madness is in the play (as will probably be explored in my essay) but I am fairly certain at this point in time that grief is not the source. Hamlet hardly seemed to be connected to his father well enough that he would be driven mad by his death. Hamlet does not seem to put much grief over his father until the apparition appears before him, telling him to murder his uncle. There seems to some other source of madness here, let it be fear, insanity, or some other form of irrationality. As said, I'm not certain that grief is the cause of Hamlet's madness, it doesn't fit the puzzle together for me, at least not at this point in reading the play.
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Post by betsyrahe on Mar 5, 2014 3:14:43 GMT
When I initial was reading Hamlet I read it as O'Rourke did her second time. I excused his behavior for grieving and anger over Claudius being king and confusion with his mother marrying Claudius. I have had relatives that I was close to die, but never someone that affected by life as much as my mother or father. But I understood that if all of that changed had occurred in my life It would be hard to just move on with my life. As we read on and discussed Hamlet only then did I see more of the depressive going mad Hamlet. What really fascinates me is O'Rourke's comment about his sanity, "And Hamlet's madness, too, makes new sense. He goes mad because madness is the only method that makes sense in a world tyrannized by false logic. If no one can tell whether he is mad, it is because he cannot tell either." It does make me question why he would then say he plans on fooling everyone into thinking he's gone mad; however, I liked this view of Hamlet's insanity. This insanity seems genuine but accidental not planned and strategic. His grief envelops him to the point where reality doesn't make sense and the world he use to know is no longer true. Hamlet line to Horatio, There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,/ Than are dreamt of in your philosophy," I always loved by now I understand it more. The grief and wrong doings he has witnessed has given him a new reality. He can see everyone else as people that don't understand and thats why they think there's something wrong with him that they need to fix or that he's a nuisance. Unless they had gone through a major loss and change they just would not understand the madness grief has on you.
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Post by mattagritelley on Mar 5, 2014 3:33:03 GMT
After reading O’Rourke’s take on Hamlet’s mental condition, I’ve come to an interesting conclusion (one that perhaps stands contrary to my concrete and absolute method of thinking). I no longer view the play as a statement, but rather as a template or a guide of sorts.
Perhaps Hamlet is meant to serve as only a partially completed and understood object, one that readers or viewers can then take and fill in the blanks in their own desired manner. O’Rourke feels comforted by the parallel she draws between Hamlet’s and her own grief following the death of her mother. Sally (my made up test subject), on the other hand, keens into the notion of Hamlet’s depression, for she has recently been coping with intense bouts of it. From the same source of text, these two different people are able to proffer two entirely different theories, each of which is equally as valid as the other and holds particular significance in its respective circumstance. Like Gary said, this idea is a fundamental tenant of reader response criticism. Gary recognizes that this lens takes into consideration the varying circumstances and conditions that affect and shape different people’s views. While I wholeheartedly agree with this in respect to the reader response lens and literary criticism in general, we can take it a step further and say that Hamlet, specifically, lends itself uniquely and perfectly to this template. That is, Shakespeare has so artfully crafted a play that the reader is left entirely to project his deepest seeded emotional connections in order to find comfort through similarity.
O’Rourke believes that Hamlet’s grief drives his behaviors. That resonance defines the play for her. Sally finds validity in the idea of Hamlet’s depression. This is equally as powerful and real of an interpretation. So, things may not be as cut and dry as many I imagine them to be. There is no one right interpretation, and that is exactly how I believe Shakespeare wanted it.
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Post by yongkim on Mar 5, 2014 3:52:06 GMT
Although I have not lost a close family member in my life and could not directly relate to O'Rourke, I loved her analysis on Hamlet. Through Hamlet, I can experience the emotional tolls of grief as well as understand, as best as I can, what it feels like to lose a loved one. I agree with Gary in that one of the most valuable characteristics of reading is how circumstance can affect reading. How the text speaks to you and the analysis of certain characters ultimately depend on personal experiences (reader response). At times, I am adamant about my analysis of literature; however, interpretations like O'Rourke's truly make reading such an eye-opening experience in literature and in life. ALL of these distinct interpretations based upon personal journeys are valid.
Like Steve, my first reaction was to look up the five stages of grieving and loss (denial, anger, need to regain control, depression, acceptance). Understanding the five stages of grief only further supported the veracity O'Rourke's analysis on Hamlet. Out of the give stages, we see a lot of anger (Hamlet's soliloquy in Act II Scene II) and depression (basically everywhere in the text). As I continue to read toward the end, I know I will be reading keeping O'Rourke's interpretation in mind.
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amychen
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“But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go—we’ll eat you up—we love you so!”
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Post by amychen on Mar 5, 2014 4:21:50 GMT
On a somewhat related note (somewhat because the part of the article I'm referencing is kind of tacked-on), the poem O'Rourke added to the end of the article was by the same poet referenced in Pinsky's "Shirt," George Herbert, from the political criticism presentation. I found "The Collar" by Herbert, which draws some interesting connections to Pinsky's "Shirt." Whereas Pinsky's poem refers to serving the needs of industrialization, Herbert's refers to serving a divine power ("Me thoughts I heard one calling, "Child"; /And I replied, "My Lord."") suggesting that industrialization has become so omnipresent in our lives that poor working conditions are seen as necessary as necessary sacrifice, NOW BACK TO HAMLET. Like jessicapollard, I haven't had any close losses of the no-longer-living kind, and so the idea that Hamlet's grief caused his madness hadn't really crossed my mind. Actually, scratch that. I just realized I have. I know this might be kind of "boo hoo you lost a pet," but when I lost my rabbit last year I didn't react very well. Not only because I lost him in the midst of studying for a biology test---"the study of life and living organisms"---but also because I planned to bury him the next day after school. Except when I got back home, he was gone: my grandparents and a few distant relatives had buried him for me because they didn't want me to have to be sad about having to bury him. My understanding at the time was that they had stolen my rabbit and given him a shitty, loveless funeral. So I dug him up, put him in a different shoebox---the nicest one I could find---and reburied him with a card in which I apologized for being a terrible owner. It is for this reason odd that I didn't draw the same conclusions about grief and Hamlet as O'Rourke did in her article. After all, his father did just die, and everyone else is trying to move on much too quickly. It would be irrational for Hamlet to act rationally. O'Rourke's interpretation takes into account Hamlet's lashing-out at his mother and his passiveness towards taking action (i.e. killing Claudius)---not out of hesitancy, but out of lack of will to live. What adds to this interpretation is that Shakespeare provides a foil to Hamlet: Laertes. Laertes is quick to take revenge for his father's death and secret burial---seeking the exact thing Hamlet did not get: for those around him to recognize his father's death. Ironically, although Hamlet's father had an honorable funeral and Laertes' did not, the society around Hamlet acted as if his nothing had changed while Laertes gained the support of an army, fixed on recognizing Polonius. Laertes' army is not made up of those close to Polonius, but rather those who are angry about his lack-of-funeral. They seem as angry as Laertes about Polonius' death, yet, with a proper funeral, would likely provide the same environment to Laertes as those around Hamlet has provided him. In this sense, Hamlet is less about the individual characters Shakespeare provides and more about the purpose funerals serve in society---as a route for those not-as-close to the dead to get rid of their grief, or more pessimistically, their guilt from lack of grief through displaying "grief" at funerals. |
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Post by davidqin on Mar 5, 2014 4:31:12 GMT
After reading through O'Rourke's introduction and hitting the part focusing on how Hamlet's sadness is not existential, but rather something else, I thought this article would cause the sky to start falling in my mind's construct of Hamlet. However, the next sentence made me I felt sorely disappointed with this article; while the rest of the piece made interesting comments on how Hamlet's grief causes many of the other bad things to befall characters, I ended up never seeing a whole new viewpoint, but instead more a subtle rehashing of our in-class discussions of Hamlet's grief.
The thing that's especially problematic for me is O'Rourke's contention that "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." It's a elegant train of thought, though I feel it makes an excessive leap of intellectual faith. Since when does Hamlet feel attached to his father? The only interactions between Hamlet Jr. and Sr. are when Jr. meets the Ghost and the Ghost tells him, "It was Claudius and the ear-poison! Avenge meeee!" There's definitely no "What's up son? Are you making moves on Ophelia" or "Hey dad, I'm glad you're here again. Don't you remember the time you invaded Norway?" It seems like a one-sided relationship with the Ghost telling Hamlet to carry out his will, all the while bemoaning the horrors of purgatory. Nowhere is there any sign that they had a strong personal relationship - one that would actually cause Hamlet to suffer such grief in the emotional vacuum of loss. Therefore, since this entire article is predicated on this assumption, I simply felt many of the other points become moot. The assumption "If only the court had just let Hamlet feel bad about his dad, you start to feel, things in Denmark might not have disintegrated so quickly!" is especially dicey in my view. It's just another "what if" and I see little evidence that Hamlet actually felt bad about his dad, and it's much more likely he felt bad at a variety of factors that we've discussed (Oedipal complex, claiming the throne for himself, his inability to get the ball rolling). So there's my negative comments on this piece.
I did feel several of O'Rourke's comments were refreshing, however. The callousness with which Claudius and Gertrude treat his grief is no doubt emotionally-wrenching, and it's interesting to think that Claudius' nonchalant greeting "How is it that the clouds still hang on you" (I.ii.66) marks the introduction of our title character to the scene. The author's insights on how "grief... is a social experience" is also very interesting. It goes a long way in explaining how others relate to the grieving Hamlet because even today, when we deal with a loss, other people may frequently tell us to "cheer up" or "you'll get over it," without really understanding what's going on inside the mind. Therefore, I like how O'Rourke has related the concept of grief in Hamlet to our treatment of loss and sadness in today's society, and it seems not very much has changed.
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Post by carolinedorman on Mar 5, 2014 4:32:59 GMT
What jumped out to me most about this article was “It reminded me of the friend who said, 14 days after my mother died, "Hope you're doing well." No wonder Hamlet is angry and cagey”. Shakespeare touches on some of the most applicable and confusing parts of being a species that values companionship—the solitude of grief and the difficulty of understanding how to console those in misery. As the article alludes, I think a large majority of Hamlet’s actions, or lack thereof, is a result of his companions, family, and servant’s inability to comfort or empathize with him. O’Rourke writes, “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”. This article truly emphasizes the beauty of how Shakespeare portrays grief. Each person handles heartbreak differently but each person can appreciate finding someone or something that says “you’re not alone in your grief”. That is why Meghan O’Rourke felt inspired to read and write about Hamlet and I think it is also the reason that Hamlet experiences insanity.
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Kasey
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Post by Kasey on Mar 5, 2014 4:42:35 GMT
I love this interpretation. I'm biased, of course, because this is how I originally viewed the play. Hamlet has ALWAYS seemed grief stricken to me. I find him human and relatable and one hell of a character. Hamlet strikes me as a character you need to do one of those hefty "character analysis" packets over, not just one someone could make up. And this is, of course, because he's human. Humans are days worth of information.
And part of the reason I don't want Hamlet to be considered Oedipal or cowardly or whatever is because it takes away the weight of his grief. It takes away the weight of grief itself. As most of you know, I've lost multiple people who have been close to me over the years, including my mother. After my mother died, I spent a lot of time getting into fights, acting out, muttering to myself, terrorizing other people, being mad, being sad, crying. I did, for lack of a better word, scary shit. I've attempted to help kids over the years in similar situations as mine; kids who believed their animals were real and would talk with them, kids who couldn't be told "no" without punching a wall, kids who were afraid of their own shadow; even kids who just poker-face'd it and barely blinked. Rationality is not a grieving person's strong suit. To expect Hamlet to act as a well-minded human would is to expect a robotic and non-human reaction. To call his grief cowardice or say "Aw Hammie's just nuts" is to take away the weight death has on us as people. Hammie is nuts, but his insanity has a cause.
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Post by allegra on Mar 5, 2014 4:44:55 GMT
Can I just point out one of the most beautiful things O'Rourke said? "To mourn is to wonder at the strangeness that grief is not written all over your face in bruised hieroglyphics. And it's also to feel, quite powerfully, that you're not allowed to descend into the deepest fathom of your grief—that to do so would be taboo somehow. Hamlet is a play about a man whose grief is deemed unseemly." That, right there, is something that pulls at me in a strange way. Like I'm being pinched and cut by things that hurt but show no evidence. If such a thing were to happen to you, anyone you talked to would think you were crazy. O'Rourke points this out as a valid (albeit dramatized) description of grief. I think I agree with Jessie when she says that maybe we've thrown too many punches at the kid. I mean, he was shocked when he found out people could lie and smile at the same time. I think it's appropriate to connect this childlike reaction to lying with his immaturity towards grief.
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rishi
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Post by rishi on Mar 5, 2014 4:50:08 GMT
Like Gary, I did not find anything too surprising about this article, and I think that the reason why is because of the way I tend to read works of literature.
O'Rourke's main idea in her article is summarized when she writes, "Hamlet's moodiness and irascibility suddenly seemed deeply connected to the fact that his father has just dies, and he doesn't know how to handle it...I can relate." While I understand that O'Rourke and many other readers may not have initially read "Hamlet" as a play that they could relate to, I did read it this way. I tend to read everything this way because I believe that resonance is a defining characteristic of any literary masterpiece. In other words, in order for a work to be considered great, readers must be able to relate with it. And by "relate," I do not mean "agree" or "sympathize;" I mean that readers must be able to identify a part of that work in their own lives or in the lives of people in the past. I wrestled with this idea in my previous forum post on the intertwining of aesthetics and meaning in art.
Because of the way I read, I automatically thought of "Hamlet" as a literary work that people could relate to. How else could the play be so enduring? While O'Rourke is surprised at the fact that she can relate her own sorrow and grievances with Hamlet's, I find the parallels between Hamlet's behavior and that of real humans somewhat obvious.
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alice
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Post by alice on Mar 5, 2014 5:44:47 GMT
I thought this article touched on a viewpoint that we skimmed over but never gave much attention to. I mean YEAH we were saying that Hamlet goin crya cuz his dad died, but this article gives a really thoughtful, realistic, and fitting argument regarding this viewpoint. Additionally, she brought light where I could not to the argument of overwhelming grief. I think the part of the article discussing escaping into books in times of grief (ja feel) and the common choice and relation with Hamlet was especially powerful since it wasn't just her own example, others had experienced it too.
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Post by kevinle on Mar 5, 2014 5:58:01 GMT
Hamlet's absurd behavior now seems more reasonable to me. The lines in the article that caught me are:
He captures the way that people act as if sadness is bizarre when it is all too explainable. Hamlet's mother, Gertrude, tries to get him to see that his loss is "common." His uncle Claudius chides him to put aside his "unmanly grief." It's not just guilty people who act this way. Some are eager to get past the obvious rawness in your eyes or voice...
I think we've all experienced this from both sides. When we are experiencing great sadness, we only become more annoyed and depressed when others tell us to simply "cheer up" or that "it's not that bad." On the other hand, when we have peers who are experiencing pain, we are often guilty of telling them to simply "cheer up." The reality is it hurts more when a friend or family member, who is trying to help, misunderstands and undervalues the gravity of the situation. Now, I'm coming to believe Hamlet is in this position, and his "insanity" is being fed by Claudius and Gertrude's cheap, incessant efforts to make Hamlet happy again. Even worse, his friends are being dragged into the problem by the king and queen, causing even more emotional harm to Hamlet. So maybe Hamlet's desire to kill Claudius is driven by a desire to end the pain from grief, and not from insanity or from a need to avenge papa Hamlet.
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Post by jennyxu on Mar 5, 2014 5:59:33 GMT
I think this article gives very valuable insight into a different perspective, because I did not initially read Hamlet from this lens. Since I have never experienced the death of a person close to me, I have limited ideas of the suffocating powers of grief. It was easy for me to discount Hamlet's melodramatic musings as unnecessary and whiney. I think that if we read Hamlet as a teenager, the viewpoint that he is simply grieving, with no support and understanding from his parents and the people around him, is very much plausible and likely. But in the film version, with Branaugh, for example, I see more madness and stubborn refusal to accept the truth, which is also a valid interpretation. My favorite point from the article is that the author says Hamlet "dramatizes grief rather than merely describing it". Yes, people don't usually commit murder in mourning, but they do start questioning the world and develop a fascination and fear of death. Hamlet's reactions, though dramatic, are very much possible reactions to the death of his father. Some points, like his idolization of his father, could be interpreted as a disconnect between him and his father, but it could also be interpreted as the desire to remember a loved one in the most positive light possible. Revenge could be an excuse to break out of the numbness that accompanies grief, especially revenge targeted towards the person that seeks to replace the person that you lost. This article really makes Hamlet's actions feel more human.
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