RR
22nd September 2006, 10:37 AM
Shakespeare: Shaken not stirred
- Badri and Prabhu
Hamlet: Act 1 Scene 5
Writing about ghosts poses a serious mor(t)al questions for any writer: is one to refer to the ghost as "it" or "him" (or her, as the case maybe). Using "it" exposes the author to be one of those no-good cynics who refuse to be intrigued by life’s mysteries. They can be spotted laughing through The Exorcist. As writers, we firmly believe that our readers have done nothing too bad to deserve such brutal rationality, so we stick to "him" henceforth, to indicate our guest ghost, Hamlet Sr.
The last scene ended with the ghost leading our hero away. After following his father’s footsteps for about ten paces Hamlet- whose most strenuous physical exercise was jumping to conclusions – finds the demands of the trek beyond him. He stops and declares he is going no further.
Hamlet Sr.: I am due back in a while to be roasted in sulphorous flames
Hamlet scholars readily understand that the senior Hamlet is referring to his Jacuzzi time. Junior, who did not inherit the sense-of-humour gene, takes him rather seriously and extends his pity.
Hamlet Sr.: (sighs how his son never got it, ever): Just listen up. And if you listen you are likely to act in revenge.
Shakespeare, it is often said, influenced more filmmakers than any other writer. Though this scene resembles a Woody Allen film - as it is just a couple of people talking - this line about revenge, is of universal appeal. Generations of Indian moviegoers have been raised over a hapless kid, who with the turn of a wheel becomes an avenger who goes about wronging wrongs to right them.
Hamlet Sr.: I am your father’s spirit -not the abstract variety that always appears married to adjectives like indomitable – but the spirit which is shorthand for ‘soul-without-a-body’. I am doomed, for a limited time, to walk about like this in the night and subject myself to the fire in the day.
The word doom may seem inappropriate to describe a relaxed schedule of Jacuzzi and strolling, but incisive readers would readily see that ‘doom’ refers to the fact that this agenda is only for a limited time. Something akin to of an office-goer not being able to enjoy a Sunday evening as the weekend is drawing to a close.
Hamlet Sr.: I am forbidden from sharing the details of my present abode with you, if I did, it would make your eyes start from their sockets and your knotted hair part from its locks and spike up like that of a fretful porpentine.
Didn’t get the last word? We didn’t either and we are in great company. For, the legendary Bertie Wooster concludes "Ah Jeeves, the chap must have meant porcupine, not porpentine. I expect this same mistake happens with ghosts a lot."
Hamlet Sr.: (unaware of the linguistic puzzles he is showering): If you ever loved your father avenge his murder!
Hamlet: Murder?!
Hamlet Sr.: Murder, most foul, strange and unnatural.
Perhaps is Denmark in those days there were also murders which could be classified as cute, natural and matter-of-fact, so as to necessitate the above distinguishing description.
Hamlet: (with the tone of a McD waiter managing a big queue) tell me quick so I can go about my revenge at the speed of thought
Hamlet Sr. (surprised by this atypical quickness of his offspring but moving on): It’s widely thought that a serpent stung me while I was napping in the orchard. Well, the serpent that stung me now wears the throne
Hamlet: Uncle??
That was the ghost’s cue. He launches off into a barrage of elaborate invectives about his very much not-late brother, who relieved him of life, throne and queen in one go. Seeming-virtuous he labels his queen and despises her shocking decline in tastes, going from him to his brother (do you trace some self-obsession and jealousy – we warned you about the Woody Allen influence, didn’t we?).
Hamlet Sr.: I was catching my usual forty winks in the orchard when he crept over emptied a vial of vicious poison into my ear which pretty much finished me up, before I had atoned for my sins and put my papers in order, to be ready meet the Higher Ups.
Hmm, a rather curious modus operandi that makes everyone think twice before submitting to filler wielding ear-doctors. Cladius must have taken the phrase "to poison someone's ears" a trifle too literally!
Then, just as he is leaving, Hamlet Sr. specifically requests Hamlet not to be unkind to the queen but just leave her to her conscience.
How was this line received? Well the historical reports are mixed. This specific instruction was inserted to paint the ghost as a die-hard romantic (to be tense-wise precise: dead-hard romantic). This strategy won over a section of the audience -some winsome Elizabethean maidens - on the ghost’s side (what is Elizabethean for “Cho Chweet ?”).
Of course this antagonized another section of the maiden populace that claimed that the ghost’s chivalry reduced the queen to an object, that two men fought over. So they gathered outside Globe Theatre and burnt their corsets in protest.
And with that, the ghost vanishes, leaving Hamlet to do what he does best when left alone. He starts talking to himself!!!
He damns the whole world and heavens, swears to wipe away everything else from his mind and remember only the ghost’s words: O most pernicious woman! / O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
Now that the ghost is clear - sorry - coast is clear, Marcellus and Horatio, our old friends who had been left in the lurch last scene make a rush onstage with a burst of anticipation. Horatio, thankfully unlike his more eloquent and celebrated friend, comes right to the point:
Horatio: What news my Lord ?
Hamlet: Wonderful
Horatio: Good my Lord, tell it (of course it is wonderful, ghosts don’t drop by to chat about the weather)
Hamlet: No you’ll reveal it.
Horatio: (that’s the very idea behind a secret you nitwit) Not I, my lord, by heaven.
The heavens seemed to be a popular target for people throwing vows at those days. With a good many of them meant to be breached, the heavens must have lived with a constant fear of a crack-up. If we follow this trail, we daresay, it may lead to some astounding conclusions about the origin of ozone depletion.
Hamlet: There isn’t a villain in Denmark. (But if there was one), he’d be a rascal
Horatio: (wha ! did this fellow manage to smuggle some Rhenish in his hip-flask? What the hell is he saying) You don’t need a ghost to come and say that, my Lord !
Hamlet: Ay, you are right. So we’ll shake hands and part….
And so on Hamlet rambles on, deftly keeping away from Horatio and Marcellus what transpired between father and son. The poor duo are not only denied the gossip but are also made to swear to secrecy of having seen the ghost at all.
This done the trio Exeunt.
Critics are trained to see the emperor’s new clothes. So they see meaning in Hamlet’s strategy of keeping his cards to himself. Horatio - since early childhood – made a hobby of rummaging through the gardener’s toolbox just to pick up the proverbial spade and call it by its name. Consequently his tragedy has never been dwelt upon sufficiently by the critics. We seek to correct this injustice:
Imagine soberly waiting the major part of the night, away from a nice party, away from the thick of the action in a play that would go on to be celebrated, and finally being denied the fruits of waiting with a whirling, wordy friend. He must have settled for unwinding in the nearest public house and spinning some angler-style yarns about his first-hand ghost spotting experience. And here comes the friend again foiling even that (with an almost audible evil chuckle). A man of any lesser mettle would have ensured the play ended here, with perhaps another ghost being added to the Castle's spooky menagerie.
But thanks to Horatio’s matchless self-control, we have more episodes to come.
[tscii:975e5802e3][/tscii:975e5802e3]
- Badri and Prabhu
Hamlet: Act 1 Scene 5
Writing about ghosts poses a serious mor(t)al questions for any writer: is one to refer to the ghost as "it" or "him" (or her, as the case maybe). Using "it" exposes the author to be one of those no-good cynics who refuse to be intrigued by life’s mysteries. They can be spotted laughing through The Exorcist. As writers, we firmly believe that our readers have done nothing too bad to deserve such brutal rationality, so we stick to "him" henceforth, to indicate our guest ghost, Hamlet Sr.
The last scene ended with the ghost leading our hero away. After following his father’s footsteps for about ten paces Hamlet- whose most strenuous physical exercise was jumping to conclusions – finds the demands of the trek beyond him. He stops and declares he is going no further.
Hamlet Sr.: I am due back in a while to be roasted in sulphorous flames
Hamlet scholars readily understand that the senior Hamlet is referring to his Jacuzzi time. Junior, who did not inherit the sense-of-humour gene, takes him rather seriously and extends his pity.
Hamlet Sr.: (sighs how his son never got it, ever): Just listen up. And if you listen you are likely to act in revenge.
Shakespeare, it is often said, influenced more filmmakers than any other writer. Though this scene resembles a Woody Allen film - as it is just a couple of people talking - this line about revenge, is of universal appeal. Generations of Indian moviegoers have been raised over a hapless kid, who with the turn of a wheel becomes an avenger who goes about wronging wrongs to right them.
Hamlet Sr.: I am your father’s spirit -not the abstract variety that always appears married to adjectives like indomitable – but the spirit which is shorthand for ‘soul-without-a-body’. I am doomed, for a limited time, to walk about like this in the night and subject myself to the fire in the day.
The word doom may seem inappropriate to describe a relaxed schedule of Jacuzzi and strolling, but incisive readers would readily see that ‘doom’ refers to the fact that this agenda is only for a limited time. Something akin to of an office-goer not being able to enjoy a Sunday evening as the weekend is drawing to a close.
Hamlet Sr.: I am forbidden from sharing the details of my present abode with you, if I did, it would make your eyes start from their sockets and your knotted hair part from its locks and spike up like that of a fretful porpentine.
Didn’t get the last word? We didn’t either and we are in great company. For, the legendary Bertie Wooster concludes "Ah Jeeves, the chap must have meant porcupine, not porpentine. I expect this same mistake happens with ghosts a lot."
Hamlet Sr.: (unaware of the linguistic puzzles he is showering): If you ever loved your father avenge his murder!
Hamlet: Murder?!
Hamlet Sr.: Murder, most foul, strange and unnatural.
Perhaps is Denmark in those days there were also murders which could be classified as cute, natural and matter-of-fact, so as to necessitate the above distinguishing description.
Hamlet: (with the tone of a McD waiter managing a big queue) tell me quick so I can go about my revenge at the speed of thought
Hamlet Sr. (surprised by this atypical quickness of his offspring but moving on): It’s widely thought that a serpent stung me while I was napping in the orchard. Well, the serpent that stung me now wears the throne
Hamlet: Uncle??
That was the ghost’s cue. He launches off into a barrage of elaborate invectives about his very much not-late brother, who relieved him of life, throne and queen in one go. Seeming-virtuous he labels his queen and despises her shocking decline in tastes, going from him to his brother (do you trace some self-obsession and jealousy – we warned you about the Woody Allen influence, didn’t we?).
Hamlet Sr.: I was catching my usual forty winks in the orchard when he crept over emptied a vial of vicious poison into my ear which pretty much finished me up, before I had atoned for my sins and put my papers in order, to be ready meet the Higher Ups.
Hmm, a rather curious modus operandi that makes everyone think twice before submitting to filler wielding ear-doctors. Cladius must have taken the phrase "to poison someone's ears" a trifle too literally!
Then, just as he is leaving, Hamlet Sr. specifically requests Hamlet not to be unkind to the queen but just leave her to her conscience.
How was this line received? Well the historical reports are mixed. This specific instruction was inserted to paint the ghost as a die-hard romantic (to be tense-wise precise: dead-hard romantic). This strategy won over a section of the audience -some winsome Elizabethean maidens - on the ghost’s side (what is Elizabethean for “Cho Chweet ?”).
Of course this antagonized another section of the maiden populace that claimed that the ghost’s chivalry reduced the queen to an object, that two men fought over. So they gathered outside Globe Theatre and burnt their corsets in protest.
And with that, the ghost vanishes, leaving Hamlet to do what he does best when left alone. He starts talking to himself!!!
He damns the whole world and heavens, swears to wipe away everything else from his mind and remember only the ghost’s words: O most pernicious woman! / O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
Now that the ghost is clear - sorry - coast is clear, Marcellus and Horatio, our old friends who had been left in the lurch last scene make a rush onstage with a burst of anticipation. Horatio, thankfully unlike his more eloquent and celebrated friend, comes right to the point:
Horatio: What news my Lord ?
Hamlet: Wonderful
Horatio: Good my Lord, tell it (of course it is wonderful, ghosts don’t drop by to chat about the weather)
Hamlet: No you’ll reveal it.
Horatio: (that’s the very idea behind a secret you nitwit) Not I, my lord, by heaven.
The heavens seemed to be a popular target for people throwing vows at those days. With a good many of them meant to be breached, the heavens must have lived with a constant fear of a crack-up. If we follow this trail, we daresay, it may lead to some astounding conclusions about the origin of ozone depletion.
Hamlet: There isn’t a villain in Denmark. (But if there was one), he’d be a rascal
Horatio: (wha ! did this fellow manage to smuggle some Rhenish in his hip-flask? What the hell is he saying) You don’t need a ghost to come and say that, my Lord !
Hamlet: Ay, you are right. So we’ll shake hands and part….
And so on Hamlet rambles on, deftly keeping away from Horatio and Marcellus what transpired between father and son. The poor duo are not only denied the gossip but are also made to swear to secrecy of having seen the ghost at all.
This done the trio Exeunt.
Critics are trained to see the emperor’s new clothes. So they see meaning in Hamlet’s strategy of keeping his cards to himself. Horatio - since early childhood – made a hobby of rummaging through the gardener’s toolbox just to pick up the proverbial spade and call it by its name. Consequently his tragedy has never been dwelt upon sufficiently by the critics. We seek to correct this injustice:
Imagine soberly waiting the major part of the night, away from a nice party, away from the thick of the action in a play that would go on to be celebrated, and finally being denied the fruits of waiting with a whirling, wordy friend. He must have settled for unwinding in the nearest public house and spinning some angler-style yarns about his first-hand ghost spotting experience. And here comes the friend again foiling even that (with an almost audible evil chuckle). A man of any lesser mettle would have ensured the play ended here, with perhaps another ghost being added to the Castle's spooky menagerie.
But thanks to Horatio’s matchless self-control, we have more episodes to come.
[tscii:975e5802e3][/tscii:975e5802e3]