HAMLET INCONSISTENT

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Logical or not, Shakespeare’s prince has a lasting appeal

William Shakespeare undoubtedly achieved one of his greatest characterizations when he created the role of Hamlet, the gloomy Prince of Denmark. Hamlet’s appeal to audiences almost certainly stems from his many human weaknesses. The one for which he is best known is indecisiveness, but his inconsistency may well be an even more outstanding characteristic.

T. S. Eliot, in 1932, wrote an essay on Hamlet that is still cited as a noted critique of Shakespeare’s great tragedy. Eliot argued that Hamlet is an artistic failure, due to a basic weakness in the play. It was his contention that a playwright owes a duty to the audience to write dialogue appropriate to characters as they have been developed in the drama. Eliot made the point that in the “Closet Scene,” when Hamlet confronts Queen Gertrude, his mother, in her bedchamber, his words demonstrate an animosity and a vindictiveness for which the audience is totally unprepared.

Since Eliot’s charge against Hamlet is self-evidently valid, actors and directors attempting to stage Shakespeare’s tragedy have struggled with the problem Eliot’s essay highlighted, both prior to and after its publication. The conventional approach in the 20th century has been to imply, on Hamlet’s part, a frustrated, incestuous love for his mother, which may justify the words Hamlet speaks, but for which Shakespeare gives no background whatsoever. As a result, rather than solving the problem, this approach creates yet another inconsistency. Still, in spite of these inconsistencies, and in spite of Eliot’s accusation of artistic failure, Hamlet continues to walk the stage and fascinate theatergoers.

If it is justifiable to look for logic and consistency in Hamlet, as Eliot did, one can find a far greater inconsistency in the play than the inadequate preparation of the audience for Hamlet’s attitude toward his mother in the Closet Scene. That inconsistency is Hamlet’s almost total lack of concern for his loss of the Kingdom of Denmark.

The inconsistency would appear to be an oversight on the part of the playwright, one of the keenest observers of human nature who ever lived. Shakespeare’s genius was to show us the timeless aspects of our strengths and frailties through the characters in his plays. People tend to fight, and fight fiercely, for what they believe to be rightfully theirs. Princes, we have learned from countless examples throughout history and drama, plot, scheme, maneuver, risk, and sometimes lose their lives in their attempts to become kings. Shakespeare, himself, wrote one of his greatest plays about the Scottish lord, Macbeth, whose burning desire for royal power is the essence of the tragedy.

And yet, Hamlet’s attitude toward the throne seems to contradict what history, experience, and even Shakespeare have taught us. Only once does Hamlet ever speak of the loss of his kingdom, and even then only in passing. Other than that, he never refers to the loss of this prize of ultimate power and prestige, a loss which has just taken place, and a prize for which so many people have been willing to commit any act, including, in the case of Hamlet’s uncle, the murder of a brother. This would seem to fly in the face of what we know about human nature. And, to make the case stronger, the character who never talks about his feelings regarding this vital matter is someone who shares his innermost thoughts with the audience to a greater extent than almost any character in the history of the theater. This silence on Hamlet’s part would appear to be an inconsistency far greater than the inappropriate dialogue in one scene to which T. S. Eliot devoted his entire essay, and on which he based his conclusion that Hamlet was a failure.

An analysis of Hamlet’s lack of concern about his loss of the Danish crown begins with a question. Why isn’t Hamlet the King of Denmark as the drama opens? Early in the play, we are told that the King, Hamlet’s father, has just died. The play makes it clear that Hamlet is the King’s only son. In the Graveyard Scene, we learn that Hamlet is 30 years old, so we know he is not too young to wear the crown. There is no indication that any extra-legal political coup has taken place. Then why didn’t Hamlet become the King upon his father’s death?

There is an answer to that question, and a straightforward one. In Shakespeare’s time, Denmark chose its kings by election, not automatic succession. The election was a very circumscribed one, wherein the only voters were the members of a council of nobles. Under that system, the late King’s son did not automatically inherit the throne. Shakespeare may have felt it was not necessary to explain this procedure, since he was writing plays principally addressed to an audience composed of England’s nobility and gentry, who were well acquainted with the procedures by which kings attained their thrones, particularly in nearby European countries.

Shakespeare based the character of Hamlet on Amleth, a Danish prince who lived in the 10th century, at a time when the king’s oldest son did become king automatically when his father died. However, in the 1300s, Denmark adopted its elective system. The question then arises, when does the action of Hamlet take place? Shakespeare gives us the answer, as always, obliquely. We learn that Hamlet is roughly a contemporary of Shakespeare from the fact that Hamlet is a student at the University of Wittenberg, which was not founded until the 16th century (a fact probably well known to the elite of Shakespeare’s audience, but, of course, not to most current theatergoers). In addition, Shakespeare gives us one concrete piece of evidence. This is embodied in one, and only one, line of dialogue, but nonetheless a line Hamlet speaks. In the last act, Hamlet tells us that his uncle, Claudius, has “Popp’d in between the election and my hopes.”

And so, rather casually, and late in the play, Shakespeare tells us that Hamlet’s uncle did not usurp the throne, but was legally elected King of Denmark. From Hamlet’s remarks about his father’s death, the audience knows that the election took place very shortly before the commencement of the drama. Further, the entire ambience of the play implies that Hamlet was not a candidate, or even a factor, in the election. The election in question was nothing like those with which we are familiar today. There was no open democratic procedure in which any citizen could compete for the job of chief of state. It was generally understood that if there were a qualified son of the old king available, that prince would dominate the race to elect the new ruler. It follows that Hamlet, in accordance with his words cited above, had expected that the throne of Denmark would someday be his, but had seen his hopes dashed when Claudius had manipulated events to bring about the state of affairs that exists when the curtain first rises.

Hamlet’s lack of concern for his lost kingdom is again evidenced when he confronts his mother in the Closet Scene. There, his vicious attack is based on the Queen’s hasty marriage after his father’s death. It would be more consistent with what we know about people in general, and princes in particular, if Hamlet should, instead, rage at his mother for having allowed his uncle to stage the election which deprived him of his kingdom. While he was unleashing his fury at his mother, Hamlet should have given some thought, and possibly some tongue, to the likelihood that she was having an affair with Claudius before her husband’s death.

There is a high probability of a liaison between Claudius and Gertrude that antedated the death of Hamlet’s father. Without the existence of such a relationship, the audience would be asked to believe that Gertrude fell in love instantly after her husband’s death, or at best, was suddenly able to give in to her suppressed desire for Claudius within days after he murdered her husband, and then immediately agree to marry him. Also, we presume, because it could hardly have happened otherwise, that within an equally short time after her husband’s death, Gertrude gave her assent to the holding of the election that put Claudius on the throne. The Queen occupied a position of great power in the court, and must have had a major voice in deciding when and how the election should be held to elect her late husband’s successor. The election was held almost before the murdered King’s body was cold, so the Queen’s cooperation must have been essential. Since this support that we deduce Gertrude had to give Claudius also deprived her only son of his rightful place on the throne of Denmark, a long-standing relationship between Gertrude and Claudius becomes all too probable.

In spite of this strong case of circumstantial evidence against his mother, Hamlet, in the Closet Scene, lashes out at the Queen without ever alluding to what very probably was her infidelity to his father, not to mention her betrayal of Hamlet himself. These omissions indicate, once more, that Hamlet’s behavior does not, at least with regard to his loss of the Danish crown, reflect what Shakespeare certainly knew about the human psyche.

A LACK OF LOGIC

If one continues a search for Hamlet’s inconsistencies, at least one more major illogical action can be found. At the end of the third act, Hamlet comes upon Claudius praying, and is about to run him through with his sword, and thus avenge his father’s death. However, Hamlet stays his hand, because he concludes that Claudius, killed while praying for forgiveness for his brother’s murder, will go to Heaven and escape his just punishment.

This situation may make for high drama, but it has some logical weaknesses. As it happens, we, the audience, having listened to Claudius speaking his inner thoughts while wrestling with his conscience, know that in his prayers he was actually offering a very limited degree of repentance. Claudius expresses some regret for killing his brother, but makes it very clear he had no intention of giving up the throne or the Queen that he had gained by his terrible act. By no twist of theology would such a limited act of repentance gain one admittance to Heaven. But Hamlet is not privy to the audience’s knowledge, and has no way of being aware of Claudius’ attempted, albeit unacceptable, repentance. Hamlet should be making his decision as to the substance of the King’s prayers based on what Claudius has said publicly. Hamlet has been given no evidence that would cause him to conclude that Claudius had ever considered admitting that he has murdered his brother, much less repenting his crime. Thus, Hamlet has no reason for leaping to the conclusion that his uncle is at that moment engaged in such a prayer.

Hamlet’s inconsistency continues in that he bases his decision to spare his uncle’s life on his concerns about the soul of Claudius. As Hamlet ponders whether or not to kill his uncle, and considers the prospects of Claudius’ soul in some future realm, he never questions his own certainty of an afterlife. Yet, earlier in that same act, Hamlet delivered his “to be or not to be” soliloquy, in which he expressed so eloquently his doubts about what, if anything, comes after death.

Hamlet appears to have been well aware that since he was the person who posed the greatest threat to Claudius’ possession of the throne, his uncle would almost certainly try to have him murdered as, indeed, Claudius does shortly thereafter in the play. Hamlet is sure that his father has already been killed by Claudius, and needs no great amount of insight to conclude that Claudius will not hesitate to kill again to secure his grip on his newly acquired kingdom.

A logical Hamlet should realize that if he killed Claudius then and there, instead of worrying about Claudius’ soul’s debatable position in a debatable here-after, then the survival of Prince Hamlet in an undebatable here and now would become much more likely. In short, a consistent Hamlet, acting logically to protect his own best interests, would kill Claudius on the spot, thus ending the play and ruining one of the greatest dramatic creations of all times.

And, so, the audience is left with all too clear proof that Prince Hamlet is at times illogical and inconsistent. All of these examples suggest, however, that the logic and consistency advocated by T. S. Eliot are not essential to a play’s success, nor to its greatness and immortality. Eliot’s conclusion that Hamlet is an artistic failure is based on logic even more specious than that of the indecisive Prince of Denmark. A play succeeds because of its ability to stir the feelings of the audience, to transport the members of that audience to places beyond the bounds of the theater and their daily lives.

Audiences, whether those of today or of Shakespeare’s era, do not judge a play by its logical perfection. Hamlet, with all of its inconsistencies, evaluated on the basis of its emotional power, the majesty of its language, and by its seemingly timeless ability to move and enthrall audiences, remains one of the theater’s ultimate masterpieces.

 


John Safer (CC ‘70) is a former chairman of the board of NationsBank, DC, and is also an internationally renowned sculptor whose works are in sites ranging from the Harvard campus to the American Embassy in Beijing. He is currently working on a 70-foot high representation of man’s pathway into space, which will stand in front of the Smithsonian Institution’s new Air and Space Museum Udvar-Hazy Center at Dulles Airport.