Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.

It’s funny that hire and salary are words with such a long history. They seem so contemporary somehow or maybe a few decades ago, at the most.

In our freelance society, getting hired or getting a salary are increasingly Rare things. But I don’t know how these words meanings have shifted and changed over the years. I know that a while back people would hire coaches and horses and so on. Has a salary always been a regular payment system? Usually a yearly sum? Maybe it was once a little different.

Hire AND salary would suggest that Hamlet’s been FIRST, SELECTED to do the job of killing Claudius at prayer and also PAID for it.
This seems a tiny bit redundant but there is a slight raising of the idea with “AND salary”

It would seem that Hire and Salary wasn’t an everyday phrase. This is Shakespeare inventing.

It also would be a great name for a pub or a rock band.

A villain kills my father, and for that I, his sole son, do this same villain send To heaven.

Is Hamlet an only child?
If he has or had any sibling, they are nowhere to be seen in the play. We know he’s the only boy but does he have a sister stashed somewhere? Maybe married off to the King of Sweden or something?
Or did he have brothers who didn’t survive?
It is rare for a Royal family to have just one child. Part of the deal with having a Royal Family at all is to insure lots of heirs. So I’m curious about Hamlet’s only-ness.
I’m part only child (on one side) but no one’s concerned about middle class lineage.
And I am the sole daughter both of my mother – to whom I am also the sole child and to my father, who has two sons.
It never occurred to me to wonder about Hamlet’s siblings before – why he doesn’t seem to have any and what happened there.
Was Gertrude unable to have more? Did she become a little like Lady Macbeth and lose a child or two?
Are there sisters somewhere?
I’d like to imagine that there are three sisters and one is Queen of Sweden, another is in a nunnery (the one where Hamlet would send Ophelia) and the third has been discovered, since she ran off, joined up some pirates off the coast.
It’s a natural extension of Virginia Woolf’s imagining of Shakespeare’s sister – this extra fictional step of imagining Hamlet’s sisters. If I started a band again, I might call it Hamlet’s sister, since someone already took Shakespeare’s sister.
It’s the next best thing.

That would be scanned.

We start with scanning text, with verse
Analyzing words and then
Somewhere sometime
A thing that was text based
Becomes image based
And before long we have
A piece of technology
(Created in my lifetime)
that places scanning firmly
in the image camp)

And yet
Despite its transition from word to image
There is some essential thing in the word
that remains.

And so I am revenged.

There was that interesting moment in theatre history when revenge plays were all the rage, of which this is one. It makes me curious about why. Why, in this particular moment in history, was revenge so important? What social anthropologist has worked out the significance of revenge to the English people in the Renaissance? Because, yes, it is fantastic fodder for drama. This drive – this vengeance is delicious in the Revenger’s Tragedy, The Spanish Tragedy and of course, here in Hamlet. But we don’t really write Revenge stories much anymore – Is it that we’ve somehow evolved past them? That we are driven less by honor and revenge and use more of our common sense in this area? It would be nice to believe so. But I’m not entirely sure – it could just be that once Shakespeare wrote this one, no one ever felt they could top it – so the trend just dried up.

And so ‘a goes to heaven.

Herman told me last night that he was excited to go to heaven. There are a lot of people he wants to see there, he says.

He was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s 2 years ago and while he’s doing very well, he’s concerned about what’s ahead.

He told me that when it comes time, he’s not going to take any pills or anything, he’s just gonna go. He gestured with his two thumbs going upwards. He’s just gonna go.

I guess he’s imagining that he just makes the decision and, poof, like magic, his body will follow his will.

And so he goes to heaven.

And now I’ll do’t.

I’ll set something down.
Put one word on the paper to start with even if I don’t have another to follow it. I’ll make at least one mark and then the next might just follow on.
Sometimes I can sit and stare at the page, waiting for something to come to me – especially with this Hamlet Project. I’ll look at the line and think about it and little bubbles of thought will rise and sometimes I’ll seize one.
And then sometimes there’s nothing and I feel like I could stare out the window for an hour before anything occurs to me. I could feel that about to happen today – perhaps due to the sheer amount of possibilities in a line like, “And now I’ll do it.”
So I just did it – instead of standing at the threshold waiting.

Now might I do it pat, now ‘a is a-praying.

This bit is where a lot of character analysis goes a little bit bananas. Those who believe Hamlet to be too hesitant, too wishy-washy or INDECISIVE as they usually say – use this speech as evidence.
“He ought,” they usually say,” to have killed Claudius outright in this moment when he gets the opportunity.”
They say, “He knows he’s guilty now. Why does he pause?”
They see Hamlet’s explanation for NOT killing him now as a convenient excuse. And then the final evidence is the fact that Claudius’ prayers have been ineffective.
“See,” they say, “He should have killed him here.”
But while it is a convenient moment to kill Claudius, I think we have to take Hamlet at his word. As far as Hamlet knows, Claudius is in the midst of getting absolved. As far as Hamlet knows, killing Claudius now is actually a terrible idea – given his worldview. If he is well and truly after revenge in a world where hell is real – he truly would believe that he’d be sending his murderous uncle to heaven.

For many contemporary viewers of this play, hell is an abstract concept that doesn’t pack a real emotional punch. So Hamlet’s concern about sending his uncle to heaven instead of hell doesn’t seem legitimate.

But – a little cultural anthropology is useful to apply to this moment. To try and see this from the actor’s point of view and also the views of a lot of the audience. Sure, it is ironic that, with this worldview, he could have killed him and still sent him to hell despite the appearance otherwise – but that irony packs no punch at all unless you can believe that killing him while praying would send the murderer to heaven.

You can’t really have both things- a Hamlet who’s just using the praying as an excuse and an ironic end to the scene. But that’s how a lot of people see it. They see the end at the beginning and discount the character’s very real concerns of heaven and hell.

All may be well.

The qualified happy ending.
When I asked my former directing teacher what he felt was particularly challenging for his students, he said that they’re all convinced that everything should work out in the end. They’re pretty sure all will be well. I was one of his students once and I remember feeling this way. I was keen on unqualified happy endings. I liked a good clean wedding at the end of a comedy. All’s well that ends well.
Except even All’s Well The Ends Well doesn’t really end WELL.

There’s some evidence that as humans, we judge the quality of something by how it ends. We imagine we’d want a shorter life that ended well rather than a longer one with a terrible one. We judge the quality of a life by its final moments. Which is a bit silly – because very few people’s final years are their best – and very few people end with unqualified happiness.

So this one – this assurance that all MAY be well – well, that seems like a more useful idea. We don’t have to be entirely pessimistic and face down in nothing but darkness but we don’t have to pretend there’s no darkness either.
All MAY be well or it may not.
It’s the mature happy ending.

Bow, stubborn knees, and heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe.

He won’t let many touch his steel stringed heart. It takes a practiced hand with lots of callouses to play those strings. The music that can emerge is beautiful but it takes an accomplished player to pluck it out.
What was his heart like before?
Were the strings pliant and flexible?
Could anyone with a bit of skill make them sound?
Was it all melody?
All harmony?
All music?
The heart at the center of the body resonating everywhere.

Make assay.

It’s interesting to plead for help and then ask for an assessment. Is an assessment a form of help? How?
Is it that the angels look into his soul and find either a) potential for redemption or b) irrevocable evil and he wants to know which it is so he doesn’t waste any time repenting in case it’s the latter? I mean, if he’s going to hell anyway – he probably figures, why lose out on the benefits of my crime?
It’s just – funny – I feel like you ask angels for help with mercy, with forgiveness, with finding the keys to your castle but for an evaluation? Not so much. Or at least I wouldn’t.