Did Hamlet Love Ophelia?: and Other Thoughts on the Play Read online

  Coroner: [Drily.] The death of Old King Hamlet more than most, I imagine, given the circumstances.

  Horatio: Oh, for sure. Old King Hamlet being found dead in the garden, and Claudius and Gertrude getting married so quickly, before Prince Hamlet has time to come home and take the throne…. I mean, it does look suspicious, after all.

  Coroner: And what has this to do with anything here?

  Horatio: Well, there were a large group of people who approved. They felt Old King Hamlet was incompetent, and that Claudius becoming king was the best thing that could happen to Denmark And that he married the Queen and took over and it all was planned by the lords because, as they said, even Ophelia would have been a better ruler than the prince, and….

  Coroner: We’re off track, here. Do you have a point?

  Horatio: [Angry.] Yes. Yes I do. The rumor that Claudius had murdered his brother was so common in the castle that people were posting it on the toilet walls. Claudius threatened to lop the head of the next person he heard repeating it.

  Coroner: And….

  Horatio: And suddenly there it is, laid out in a play in the Great Hall. Personally, I think Claudius was guilty, but even if he was innocent, he’d hit the ceiling just to see that story come back at him again. Particularly in front of some visiting Lords and their ladies.

  Coroner: But you think it confirmed the ghost’s story, to Hamlet?

  Horatio: I’m sure of it.

  Coroner: You may step down. [Addresses jury.] Gentlemen, we ask you; did Prince Hamlet have reason, or sufficient reason, to kill his father? I await your decision, tomorrow.

  Chapter 4: In Praise of Polonius

  Polonius just can’t get any respect. Sure, Willie Shakespeare, why don’t you make fun of guys when they start going senile; looks big on ya.

  Polonius has been around the Danish royal court for a while. Not only is he included in the bastion of Elsinore Castle as war is approaching, but when he is killed a lot of the nation is angry at the small funeral Claudius gives him. And he’s enough of a noble that Gertrude thinks a marriage of Hamlet to Polonius’s daughter would have been a fine thing.

  So where did his respect go? Sure, he blithers on too much, but so does Hamlet at times (like when he’s talking to the players. Gawd, that went on forever) and a lot of other characters (the Mel Gibson movie of Hamlet is one of the best because they trimmed a lot of the blither.)

  But don’t make the assumption that just because Hamlet makes fun of him that Polonius is stupid. He correctly calls out the Hamlet-Ophelia relationship as a predatory one. (Hamlet could have had Polonius’s blessing if he’d shown any sign of wanting to actually marry the girl.)

  And his advice to his son who is about to return to Paris is spot on. I’ve been through that speech enough times and it’s pretty well the advice I’d have given in his situation. [Ralph Layne, you still owe me that three bucks – and a few decades of interest]. A noble’s son in Paris – well, I’d have sent Reynaldo to check him out, too. College kids wasting parents’ money – believe it or not, it happens.

  Okay, so he goes on too long; check out his advice; it’s sound. If he had said the same things tersely, he’d have come across a lot more like Yoda’s brother.

  Now, you might think Polonius is a fool because you’ve heard his weak performance in the “fishmonger” conversation with Hamlet. But that’s an illusion. The medieval monarchy was a more dangerous place than a Mafia franchise. The head of a modern mob has far less power and is better educated than most medieval monarchs. And, unlike medieval monarchs, mob bosses – and most dictators – don’t believe they’re divinely appointed. You do not argue with a prince, not if you value your neck.

  Try it sometime; you and a friend. One pretends to be a royal, for whom “off with his head” is not just a cute phrase, and who simply cannot be prosecuted for anything, and the other pretends to be a lesser rank. Play out the scene. You’ll find that this is not a case of Polonius being bettered by a smarter person. It is a case of a prince abusing his status and being needlessly cruel to an old man. Hamlet does the same, later on, with Osric, another man who can’t argue with him. Hamlet is an asshole.

  Chapter 5: The Great Poland Invasion Scam

  After his uncle forbids Fortinbras to harm Claudius, the Norwegian prince gets permission to attack Poland instead, crossing Denmark en route. This plan is financially and militarily incomprehensible, especially if the route starts near Elsinore, which is on an island. Most scholars seem to be a map or two short of an atlas in this case.

  Here’s a excerpt from the novel, Hamlet: The Comedy, that somewhat explains this. The narrator is a Polish military expert.

  “Why Poland?” Casimir cried. “What has Poland ever done to Norway or Denmark? Don’t they have to have a made-up excuse at least?”

  “Fortinbras was avenging his father by invading Denmark,” I said. “At least that’s what the Norwegians claim.”

  “They got Vest Agder back,” Casimir said, speaking loud enough that some sawyers stopped to listen. “And Old King Hamlet, the guy who killed his father, is dead. He has no excuse for invading Denmark or Poland. Looting, and shooting. That’s what.”

  “Isn’t it enough?” I asked.

  “Especially, what is Poland to Fortinbras? He’s a thug, a criminal; his war is murder and pillage. Old King Hamlet was liar like all other thugs and like ancient Vikings. Oh, Poland’s had wars with its neighbours for land or honour, but…. Norway? As if we didn’t have enough problems with the Russians and the Germans!” He waved his arms. I finished my stew before it could get knocked over. “Thuggery and buggery; the Norwegian army like all other damn armies in this damned age. Did Fortinbras even give a half-assed reason for wanting to invade Poland?”

  “If he did, I didn’t hear about it. I guess I have to ask what are we Vikings to the Poles or the Poles to us that we should have tried to loot them without a provocation?” I tried to be contrite for my ancestors.

  “Old King Hamlet and Fortinbras : both thugs with armies. Thugs with armies. Murder, rape, looting! Polish neighbors are Russians and Germans A treaty with Denmark or Norway would be logical. We could come to each other’s aid if the Holy Roman Empire wants to expand. That’s logic. That’s what a good leader would do. But not Fortinbras. No, he has to go a-Viking like his hated ancestors, those sons-a-bitches!” He sat down beside me and helped himself to part of my bread and a piece of mutton.

  “I can see you’d be concerned with your people, what with the Norwegian army coming your way”, I said.

  He looked up, tried to talk with a mouthful of food, thought the better of it, washed the food down with some of my ale, and said, “Of course not. The Norwegian army’s not going anywhere near Poland. Nobody’s that stupid.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “He’s right,” said a voice behind me. I looked up and there was Soldir. “I’d bet more heavily on Poland being invaded by, oh, the Irish or maybe the Fez of Morocco than the Norwegians.” He, too sat down on the log, with a sigh of relief as he stretched out his bad leg.

  “What?” I asked again.

  “Not if he’s landing an army in Denmark,” Casimir said. He turned to Soldir. “Good to see you, Soldir. Tell our fool here how Old King Hamlet took his troops to invade my country, back when you were younger.”

  “By boat, of course,” Soldir said. “Loaded men and supplies onto boats here at Elsinore. Then we sailed across the Baltic with a freezing tailwind and into the first port on the coast of Poland. Then it’s seize the port, spend a few days unloading, and off we go down the road to wealth and glory.”

  “It’s a Viking tradition,” Casimir said.

  “It’s also the only possible way,” Soldir said.

  Casimir got up, smoothed out a patch of mud, and drew a map of northern Europe with a stick. “Observe,” he said, pointing. I leaned forward. “Option one for Fortinbras is to leave Norway, sail past Elsinore into the Baltic, and go to Poland’s sunny shor
es.”

  “Wet,” said Soldir, “but with the normal west winds, just a few days travelling, even with barges towing enough food and cannon for a decent invasion.”

  “On the other hand,” Casimir said, “Fortinbras can land his forces on the head of Denmark, which is sticking up like a waiting dick.” He pointed the stick at me. “Then what does he have to do?”

  I thought he’d taught one too many classes in military school in Poland. Or had to explain the Polish campaign one too many Danish generals. “Unload his men and equipment onto the Danish land. And the carts to haul it all. And the horses to pull the carts.”

  Soldir nodded. “It would be impossible to haul enough food to get all the way to Poland from Denmark, even if you used every fish cart in Norway and every one of the tiny Norwegian horses. What’s he going to do when the food runs out?”

  “He’ll have to get it as he goes,” I said. “But he can’t just take it, because he’s here by permission.”

  “So he’ll have to buy it. On top of the enormous sum and vile interest rates the money-lenders will have charged the Norwegians to raise an army and buy the weapons, he’ll have to have enough money to buy food as he goes through Denmark.” He smiled. “There’s an old saying, ‘while the grass grows, the horse starves.’ Do you know what that means?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’ve used it many times. It means that one of the hardest times of the year is when the crops are growing, but not ripe. A farmer has to have saved enough from the previous year to see his family through until the first harvest.”

  “And what time is it now?” Casimir asked.

  “About that time,” I said.

  Soldir spoke up. “In the Polish Winter War we were counting on bins full of autumn harvest.” He shook his head ruefully. “What hadn’t been burned or spoiled with manure had been hauled away before we got there.”

  “So,” Casimir went on. “Fortinbras is going to have to buy food as he travels, at a time when there’s little to have and the price will be highest. He’ll need more money from the moneylenders.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “But then he leaves Denmark.” Soldir pointed at the mud map. “Then he’s in the Holy Roman Empire.”

  “Not just any part of the Holy Roman Empire,” Casimir noted, “but the Hanseatic League. Five hundred years of merchants controlling the trade of the coast of the Baltic Sea. Extracting every bit of money from that trade. He’ll have to lead his army across not only Denmark but the Duchy of Schleswig, and the Duchy of Holstein. That puts him into The Duchy of Brunswick-Luneberg, assuming he isn’t crazy enough to pass through the free city of Lubeck. That would be pricey. Top prices for food, this time of year.”

  Soldir nodded. “From there he crosses the Electorate of Brandenburg or the Duchy of Pomerania, where he’ll find the Poles and probably their Hungarian allies, and maybe hired knights from the Teutonic Order waiting for him.”

  “After the war, he’ll have to make his way back the same way, having no boats with him,” Casimir pointed out.”

  I sighed. “Or he could have just sailed from Norway to Poland.”

  Soldir said, sadly, “Or they could just have sailed to Poland.”

  “And tolls. Can you imagine what a Hanseatic state would charge for use of the roads?” Casimir said. “Fortinbras would be bankrupt before he got through Mecklenburg, let alone through any of the other half-dozen states. He’d be selling his army to pay for his own passage back to Norway.”

  “Do you know how most armies on the move feed themselves?” Soldir asked.

  “Foraging,” I hear, I said.

  “Right,” Casimir said. “Pillaging and looting and the rest. It’s not like foraging for mushrooms in the woods; there’s a lot of burning and raping and the usual. And how do you think the Hanseatic States will react to that sort of behaviour?”

  “I’m not a military man,” I told him. “I know nothing about the strength of those places.”

  “They don’t have big armies,” Casimir said. “They don’t need to. They can hire the best knights and other mercenaries whenever a problem arises. Some of the best soldiers in Europe are available, with the finest new weapons. But they don’t need to do that. Do you know why?”

  I didn’t feel like guessing.

  “Big Brother,” Soldir said.

  Casimir nodded. “They’re part of the Holy Roman Empire, of course. It’s neither holy nor Roman, but it has a hell of a lot of soldiers available when there’s trouble anywhere. Far, far, more than Fortinbras can even imagine. And suppose Fortinbras somehow got all the way to Poland by land. What would be waiting for him?” He waved at Soldir.

  “Prepared armies of Poles,” Soldir said. “With armies of allies.”

  “Which brings up the question,” Casimir said, “of how Fortinbras would get home even if he attacked Poland.”

  “Steal boats?” I asked.

  “The Poles would have all boats out of the way, just in case.”

  I stood up. “You’re saying it can’t be done.”

  “What would you say?”

  I said, “It can’t be done. Not by land.”

  “On the other hand,” Casimir said, “they could always just sail to Poland.”

  “And not need to ask Claudius for permission to land in Denmark,” Soldir said.

  “And if Fortinbras were to cross Denmark with the permission of Claudius, how do you think the Holy Roman Empire would feel?”

  I shrugged. “I think they’d be pretty pissed off at us,” Casimir said.

  I didn’t know what to say. “So what can you say when Fortinbras lands on Jutland?” I asked.

  “There’s a bigger question,” Casimir said. “What if the Norwegian army lands on Sealand?” [Elsinore is on the island of Sealand.]

  I blinked. “What?”

  “What if….”

  “I heard you,” I said.

  “What problems would it make for Fortinbras,” Soldir asked.

  The question annoyed me. “That would be stupid,” I said. “First he’d disembark from his boats, then march past Elsinore to the other end of this island. Probably to the ferry at Voldingborg. He’d have to then ferry all his troops and equipment to Falster Island. Then he’d have to cross that island. Then ferry everything to the mainland. The Hanseatic merchants would like the business, but it would cost more than he’s worth.”

  “Any conclusions?” Casimir asked me.

  “It does seem like the ultimate in stupidity to attempt a land attack on Poland, when you’ve got all of Denmark and the Holy Roman Empire to get through.” But then, not as stupid as landing on an island instead of the mainland.”

  “When you could just sail your boats to Poland,” Soldir said. “What if you found out Fortinbras had landed on Sealand, our cozy little island here?”

  “I’d wonder what he really was after,” I said.

  “Let’s consider,” Soldir said. “Fortinbras tried to fool his uncle, so we know he’s a known liar and trickster. And that his uncle is an idiot for not throwing him in the dungeon for trying that. So can we trust anything he says to us?” Ingald laughed. “Probably has an honest face, too. Fortinbras or Hamlet to rule – neither have a conscience; big deal. Where’s Laertes when Denmark needs him? Laertes, the guy who skipped town when war was about to break.”

  Chapter 6: Why Did Hamlet Think His Mother Was Living in Sin?

  Cripes, because she was! That’s why!

  No Englishman of Shakespeare’s time would have missed the point here. The older brother of Henry the eighth had died and Henry wanted to marry his wife. The bible specifically prohibited such a thing. Henry applied to the Pope for a dispensation to marry the woman. After a bit, he got it.

  Wife #1 didn’t produce an heir, which wasn’t good. Henry fell for Anne Boleyn. He told the Pope he wanted to annul the first marriage because, after all the bible prohibited a man from marrying his brother’s widow. “What the fuck,” the Pope said, (or Ital
ian words to that effect) “you want me to dispense with my dispensation????!!” And refused.

  Well, without a papal dispensation, Claudius married Gertrude. A marriage invalid in the eyes of the Church. You can see what Hamlet was upset about. Well, that, and a few Oedipus problems, maybe.

  Note: There is an exception in the bible. If a man dies in battle and has a wife and little kids, his brother is obligated to marry her, as a second wife, if necessary. But Gertrude and Claudius didn’t fall into that category.

  Chapter 7: In Praise of Claudius.

  Evil bastard. Between Claudius and Hamlet, they managed to wipe out the entire royal family of Denmark. What a team!

  Let’s look at it under another possible scenario. Just a possibility, but I must say, in the play, Claudius didn’t seem to get much enjoyment out of either his crown or his new wife. If he and Gertrude were in love, neither showed it much. Here it goes:

  - Prince Fortinbras of Norway is threatening to kick the crap out of Denmark in revenge for his father’s death at the hands of Old King Hamlet. That would be bad, very bad, for a lot of reasons. Victors in medieval wars claimed a lot. Like all the gold and silver, some of the castles and much of the land.

  - Old King Hamlet is a loser. Spends all his time bragging about the good old days, and ignoring the peril of Fortinbras.

  - The Danish Lords panic and conspire with Claudius to get rid of Old King Hamlet. Simply unable to contemplate what kind of military leader Prince Hamlet would be, they arrange for Claudius and Gertrude to marry and take over the throne before the prince can get back to Elsinore.

  - Claudius strengthens the Danish defences, then contacts the real king of Norway, successfully heading off an invasion, at least for the time being. He’s a hero in the eyes of the Danish Lords at least,

  His big mistake was in not letting Hamlet return to Wittenberg.

  Chapter 8: The War Theme

  Sometimes you’ve got to wonder if this is a black comedy, rather than a tragedy.