If it be so, Laertes –

No one names their kid Laertes
Even though he’s a perfectly decent guy
Who gets manipulated by the king.

They’ll name their kid Horatio
Or Francisco or Bernardo
But I’ve never met a Laertes.

Come to think of it, though, I’ve never met a Hamlet, either. Even though
He’s one of the most human, complex, interesting characters to be found.
His ending is probably
Prohibitive for child-naming.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never met a Polonius either.

What’s curious, though, is that that prohibition
Does not seem to apply to women.
I have met Ophelias and there have been other famous Gertrudes:
Lavinia’s end in Titus has not prevented parents from using her name –
Nor Cordelia. Nor Emilia.
I guess as women we’re expected to have tragic ends.

Can you advise me?

The problem with going into the arts – well, no – one of the problems, is that there are very few people who can advise you with useful thoughts. You can get advice from ANYONE – even from people who have NO IDEA how your field works. There are no shortage of bad ideas – or tired ideas – or ideas you already tried ten years ago. But someone who can ACTUALLY advise you, with ACTUALLY useful ideas, that’s a person to cherish.

Naked!

It is funny how humans have such an intense relationship to nakedness. There are many cultures that don’t have naked hang-ups. But – no other animal covers its skin with something else. No other animal averts its eyes in front of another naked animal. No other animal body polices other animals saying who can reveal what when. I wonder what it would be like not to have any self-consciousness about naked bodies.

‘Tis Hamlet’s character.

Maybe it’s because I am a writer but I like the link between how someone uses the written word and their personality. That handwriting might express the person as much as the person expresses the writing. I think this is why handwriting analysis is so compelling – that we are our characters. It’s also probably wildly inaccurate. It’s probably pretty much a crapshoot to understand a person based on how they form words with a pen. That said, I have had clients that I understood everything about long before I met them due to how they filled out their forms. I looked at a form, the ink large and jagged, the pressure through the page enough to chisel stone and I knew I was in for a doozy of a client. And I was not wrong.

Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?

Claudius is saying “abuse” but it feels like he really means “ruse.” The abuse, I suppose, would be an abuse of trust, perhaps?
Abuse does tend to feel sticky. What actually qualifies as abuse and what is just shitty behavior. Not so long ago, someone close to me acknowledged that someone close to him had probably been emotionally abusive to him, to me and probably to others as well. I agreed. But I’d never thought of it that way before. I’d just thought that person was being a shit. And she definitely behaved abominably. She treated me very badly. And she had authority over me. I would never have said I was emotionally abused but when it was described as such, it felt true. And yet still, it’s not a badge I’d claim. Is that because, when I hear abuse, I imagine bruises? Is it that abuse requires physical evidence? In a way, I think I don’t self identify as someone who has experienced any kind of abuse because it conflicts with some sense of myself – some tough girl “I ain’t a victim” mentality. But when someone else reflects it, I can’t deny it. We tell ourselves whatever we have to to keep going.

Are all the rest come back?

Who else did Claudius send on this trip? Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, for sure. There’s a captain and a crew (for fighting pirates, obviously – but also manning the ship). But who else is bound for England?

Tom Stoppard placed the Players on board – though I suspect that they probably usually travel on land – unless Claudius has specifically paid for their passage as far away from his kingdom as he can muster.

But who else? Is there someone Claudius cares about on this ship? Has he sent his buddy to England to collect some of that tribute he’s looking forward to receiving.
Does he have someone prepared to collect Hamlet’s head and bring it back to him? Who does Claudius trust to do his dirty work? Are there passengers that are hitching a ride from Denmark to England? The vanishing Marcellus – is he on board? Probably not. He disappeared too long ago. He probably caught a ship to Rome.

I like to imagine that there might be others on board – others that Claudius is as curious about as Hamlet. I’d very much like to see that ship’s log.

What should this mean?

I appreciate the use of “should” rather than “does.” “Does” has a definitiveness that does not always accurately reflect what meaning is.
When I teach Shakespeare, students constantly ask, “What does this mean?”
I am not wont to tell them – in part, for pedagogical reasons, in part, because there are often multiple meanings to be found once one goes looking for meaning. Maybe even more than “should,” I might go with “could.” There’s enough space in “could” for multiple meanings.

Hamlet

Hamlet doesn’t bother with a sign off. He doesn’t say “Yours truly” or “Sincerely” or “Til tomorrow” or “thine as thou usest him” or “Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him” as he wrote to Ophelia or “He that thou knowest thine” as he wrote to Horatio. He’s just like, “Hamlet.” Not “Prince of Denmark” or “your nephew” or even “That guy you tried to have killed but failed to.”

When I shall, first asking your Pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden And more strange return.

I wonder what story Hamlet is planning on telling Claudius. Is it the pirate story? Or will he start with what he found in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s orders? Or will he start with, “So I know you killed my father…?”

In the end, he doesn’t really have time to recount all this stuff because their first re-encounter is over Ophelia’s dead body but I’m very curious about what Hamlet’s strategy would have been.