Claudius is generally really good at politics – but this sending Hamlet to England business is kind of a political mistake. With Hamlet gone, people are free to think whatever they want and they are likely to be predisposed to be on Hamlet’s side. So by sending Hamlet away, he’s got no murderer and thereby probably casts some suspicions on himself. If he’d kept Hamlet nearby, he’d have had to have some kind of public justice. Hamlet would likely not deny his murder of Polonius. I guess the danger, though, would be that in confessing to Polonius’ murder, he might reveal why he killed him, which might reveal Claudius’ actual murder.

There’s a song that always made me laugh called “Railroad Bill”. In it, the folksinger is trying to get the subject of the song to cooperate with his wishes. He wants Railroad Bill to climb up a tree and rescue a kitten but Bill refuses. They go back and forth for a bit until a series of violent events sweep through and kill Bill. The cat comes down and has some milk. Bill is survived by a wife and two small children. I think of a violent author of his own remove like this – as if Railroad Bill sang the song about himself.

Next up in disingenuous griefs…Claudius mourning the loss of the man he sent away to his death.
It would be funny if he forgot that Gertrude doesn’t know about the execution order for Hamlet and he started to say “your son dead” and then caught himself to say “gone.”
It’s so much fun to watch someone caught in a lie.

Hmmm. Not QUITE first, Claudius. FIRST you killed her king – and potential future father in law. THEN you watched as her boyfriend rather cruelly broke up with her and then flirted with her again in front of the whole court. So…yes. FIRST in all the ways you might not be implicated. FIRST.

Ready the Sorrow Regiment.
They gear up over the hill ready to attack.
They don’t need to wear armor.
There’s no way to fight them.
Sorrows are unbeatable and sure, occasionally they travel on their own but usually they bring their friends. They hit you once, then again and again. They knock you around until you think you’ll never get back up again.
It’s better to let them pass- fighting them only makes it worse. Perhaps it will be years before you’re confronted with the Sorrow Battalion again.

There’s something about this emphasis on ALL that raises some red flags, some questions. Because what is Claudius hiding that he needs to say “All”? It’s obvious that Polonius’ death is the trigger. And the other major contender for madness might be her dysfunctional relationship with Hamlet – which Claudius would have no motivation to hide.
It’s like – the use of the word “all” and its placement at the beginning of the sentence seem to make it pop. Sure. You could read it with a regular iambic pentameter rhythm and unemphasize it – But then you’re emphasizing “from” – which is generally weird.
Emphasizing a preposition when there’s a word like “all” around is not USUALLY the most effective way in to a sentence. But you could do that.
Still, though, that ALL is sitting there like a big neon sign for me. All All All. Nothing to see here.
Which, again, supports my very weird counter narrative of Claudius being somehow implicated in Ophelia’s madness. I mean I wouldn’t put it past him.

Or perhaps it is the release of deep grief.
Grief does sharpen everything – it brings things into focus.
Everything seems both flatter and heightened at once.
The important things rise up and everything else blends into one another.
I can see how things that have been long repressed might bubble up and take center stage.
But I’m not sure it’s poison.
It is a kind of clarity – even if it triggers madness.

It would be funny to see a cave man Claudius.
I picture the unfrozen caveman lawyer that Phil Hartman played on Saturday Night Live – but with a crown. And this line, if spoken by a caveman, could suggest giving Ophelia a nice timepiece. Caveman Claudius orders that Ophelia be given a Rolex as a parting gift. Of course, this line doesn’t mean that at all. But it would be funny.

http://gph.is/1JmT3NH

 

Where are these followers later? Where did they go? How did Ophelia lose them? And how did Gertrude come to be following her instead? And why would a Queen be out in the countryside watching a young girl drown herself? Especially if the king has appointed some guys to follow her close. Theoretically they are following her to prevent her from doing exactly what she does. How does a young woman in dire emotional straits shake off trained followers? Or does this following cease? Once Laertes shows up – maybe Claudius calls off the Ophelia suicide watch. Which is, of course, a mistake.
It is interesting how no one in the scene ever questions how Gertrude knows all the poetic description of Ophelia’s death. It’s kind of a beautiful mystery. And the sort of thing, if this play were written today, some dramaturg would insist that Shakespeare put a line in about it. Or cut the speech – because it raises questions that aren’t answered.