THE GREATEST?
Our theater critic weighs the cultural legacy of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.”|
Let’s put aside the fact that arguments like these are endless, pointless, Eurocentric, malecentric and impossible to settle. Those who see Houston Shakespeare Festival’s production of “Hamlet,” running through Aug. 4 (alternating performances with “Comedy of Errors”) should nevertheless entertain the idea that these following statements have a very high likelihood of being true:
“Hamlet” is Shakespeare’s best play.
“Hamlet” is the greatest play ever written.
Hamlet is the greatest character ever written.
Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” is the greatest single scene/ speech written in Western literature.
First, the caveats. Modern culture tells us to consistently challenge and revise the canon of dead white men, and to push for art that reflects the current society. The culture is beginning to realize that even the idea of canon carries with it a white male bias because much of the canon was written when only white men had the opportunity to create so-called “great” art. The canon, therefore, is limited to a narrow perspective.
“We’re living in a time when theater people and artists in general are grappling with what the idea of greatness actually means, and if that is even the most important question we should be asking,” says Rob Shimko, director of the University of Houston School of Theatre & Dance and the executive director of the Houston Shakespeare Festival.
But the idea that “Hamlet” has historical baggage is fair, yet con-
versations that problematize “Hamlet” aren’t necessarily more interesting than “Hamlet” itself. History matters too, and history has a thing to say about the Prince of Denmark: That the above four statements, grandiose and potentially biased as they may seem, have a higher chance of being true than being false.
“It occupies a place in Western drama that I don’t see duplicated or exceeded by any other work,” Shimko says of the play.
“Hamlet,” after all, isn’t just about revenge or ghosts or kings or even romance. It’s about the ultimate topic. As the centerpiece of all the Western canon’s greatest hits, the ultimate topic is (drumroll): life and death.
Everything, when you boil it down, is about life and death. “Moby Dick” is about life and death. Dickens’ novels were about life and death. The Bible and the Quran are about life and death. The works of Toni Morrison, David Lynch, Emily Dickinson, Kurt Cobain, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, Li Bai, Laozi, C.S. Lewis, Socrates, Friedrich Nietzsche and Kendrick Lamar are about life and death.
And what is the purest, most practical distillation of life and death, a literal path of action people can choose to take that is essentially a real-life reaction to this grand idea? Suicide. The topic of suicide is synonymous with the topic of “Why is life worth living?” The topic of why life is, or isn’t, worth living fuels all art.
That’s why so many of the greatest works in the canon reference not only “Hamlet” but the “to be or not to be” soliloquy (technically, the speech is not a soliloquy since the ill-fated Ophelia is present). They are all wrestling with the same question.
Dramatically, we’re not given a full picture of why Hamlet says what he says. One could say it’s simply a contemplation of whether it’s worth his life to take revenge on Claudius, who murdered Hamlet’s father. But the speech’s appeal transcends its context within the play. The speech waxes philosophical, leaping across time and space.
Hamlet presents a fundamentally human duality, which is between our suffering existence and our fear of the unknown. In other words, he’d totally kill himself if he knew what awaited him on the other side. To rather suffer in a current state than plunge into the unknown — who doesn’t relate to this conundrum?
And consider the fact that the “to be or not to be” speech is only a drop in the ocean of “Hamlet,” Shakespeare’s longest play. Hamlet’s quiet, introspective moment is only one of many in the play.
“The emotional range of the character is immense,” Shimko says. “An actor playing the role is tasked with digging into an array of the most potent human emotional states: love, friendship, betrayal, grief, obsession, playfulness, melancholy, fury and beyond. And the famous soliloquies offer us multiple insights into his intelligence and his inner struggles.”
Keep in mind all the above as actor Shannon Hill delivers Hamlet’s best speeches during the festival at Miller Outdoor Theatre. Keep in mind the fact that witnessing “Hamlet” means witnessing the history of how humans have thought about the most difficult and important question ever, and turning such thought into entertainment. And keep in mind Shimko’s most practical point:
“If we look at Hamlet’s influence over more than four hundred years — the enormous number of times it’s been produced by important artists, the audiences and readers who have found nearly endless meaning in it time and again, the vast array of scholars and enthusiasts who have debated its many qualities in innumerable and fascinating ways — then I think it’s safe to say that it’s a truly great play.”
That claim to greatness isn’t just enshrined in the text. The idea of life versus death returns, two acts after “to be or not to be,” in arguably the most famous image in the history of live theater: Hamlet raising up Yorick’s skull. There, the audience contemplates both the “to be” and the “not to be” of the play, as Hamlet’s remaining moments of life are juxtaposed against not only the dead jester’s skull but against all those who’ve died — Ophelia, Hamlet’s father, Rosencrantz, Guildstern and even Alexander the Great.
“Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make loam,” Hamlet says, considering the fact that the world’s greatest conqueror who might be a pile of dirt now, used to patch a wall or plug a hole in a barrel. The image isn’t just viscious and morbid. It’s also hilarious. An actor might choose to smirk during this scene, knowing that when the idea of life and death is turned into a punchline, its emotional impact becomes all the more devestating.