Oh Billy. Wherever I turn, it seems people get frustrated with Shakespeare, the friendly, arrogant poet slash playwright from the good ole fifteenth century. What's there to hate? Okay, I guess granted the language is a huge barrier. It's like trying to talk to someone with a thick accent, you just keep looking at them and thinking "Huh?" I guess Shakespeare can be the same way. Still, that's what makes it fun to read.
For my English class this week, we are starting to delve into Hamlet. We were told this is the most difficult of Shakespeare's plays, so I went in with a bit of reluctance. My expectations were too low. For those having trouble, try reading it all out loud. Trust me, hearing it all in my voice and being dramatic about reading the play helped me follow through with what was going on, rather than just glazing my eyes over it and pretending I got it.
I got it all first try, I think. In just the first three scenes, I succeeded in laughing my butt off a total of three times (3). I just find it completely hilarious the way the language is used to express humor. Lets go to Act 1, Scene 3. Laertes is about to take his leave back to France, and he says goodbye to his sister. Being her brother, he has to give some kind of brotherly advice before he leaves her in the big bad world...
Shakespeare had two choices here. He could have said something blunt and obvious, like "'Ey gurl keep it in ur pantz and stay away frum tha' Hamlet punk", but instead, he said this. "Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain if with too credent ear you list his songs or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open to his unmastered importunity."
Ouch. That one hurt. And throughout the entire play these people are harassing Hamlet. I mean, look at Cladius. He is the uncle of Hamlet's late father, whom also married his sister-in-law not even a month after her husband had died. She don't care. She do what she wants. But when Hamlet laments his father, all Cladius does is say "Maybe we should chug on over to mamby pamby land where MAYBE we can find some self-confidence for you, you jackwagon!". Even later on, Polonius questions Ophelia about what Laertes had told her, and when she told him, he just reinforces the statement.
It seems that Hamlet is a depressed little teenager. How? Well ask Horatio and he'll tell you. He comes in saying he is but a poor servant and Hamlet says "I'll (ex)change that name with you." Seems Hamlet wants nothing to do with the royal blood he was born with. Personally, he should be a little more grateful. I bet all the peasants in Dunsinane would kill a king to get an opportunity like that (cough cough Macbeth.)
So wrapping this up, I am excited to continue reading this. Shakespeare, even after 600 years, is still a great writer who never fails to amaze me. I'll certainly be looking forward to finishing this play.
(Bonus)
I always imagined Shakespeare in his teenage years. He would sit out on street corners, dressed all fancy, and he would walk up behind women and declare, "Your eyes are nothing like the sun." Curious, she turns around and looks at him imploringly. He continues his sonnet, sniggering sometimes in-between lines. "And in perfumes there is more delight, than in the breath that from you reek." SLAP. The woman backhands him in disgust and trots away. Shakespeare has this impish grin plastered across his face, and he rubs his cheek where he was hit and looks to find another woman to "woo." Sometimes he uses "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" and sometimes he uses other sonnets. He never gets to the end of them, because usually he gets slapped or the woman leaves before he can get to the turn. He spends his nights crashing at a buddy's house, where he and his friends help him write some of his more arrogant sonnets, and they usually end up falling asleep exhausted from all their laughing.
(Word Count: 710 words)
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