|
|
|
Hamlet: Articles & Essays

Hamlet and His Problems
by T.S. Eliot

www.hamletguide.com |
| Few
critics have even admitted that Hamlet the play is the primary
problem, and Hamlet the character only secondary. And Hamlet the
character has had an especial temptation for that most dangerous type of
critic: the critic with a mind which is naturally of the creative order,
but which through some weakness in creative power exercises itself in
criticism instead. These minds often find in Hamlet a vicarious
existence for their own artistic realization. Such a mind had Goethe,
who made of Hamlet a Werther; and such had Coleridge, who made of Hamlet
a Coleridge; and probably neither of these men in writing about Hamlet
remembered that his first business was to study a work of art. The kind
of criticism that Goethe and Coleridge produced, in writing of Hamlet,
is the most misleading kind possible. For they both possessed
unquestionable critical insight, and both make their critical
aberrations the more plausible by the substitution—of their own Hamlet
for Shakespeare's—which their creative gift effects. We should be
thankful that Walter Pater did not fix his attention on this play. |
Two recent writers, Mr. J. M. Robertson
and Professor Stoll of the University of Minnesota, have issued small
books which can be praised for moving in the other direction. Mr. Stoll
performs a service in recalling to our attention the labours of the
critics of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
1 observing
that
they knew less about psychology than more
recent Hamlet critics, but they were nearer in spirit to Shakespeare's
art; and as they insisted on the importance of the effect of the whole
rather than on the importance of the leading character, they were
nearer, in their old-fashioned way, to the secret of dramatic art in
general.
|
| Qua work of art, the work of art
cannot be interpreted; there is nothing to interpret; we can only
criticize it according to standards, in comparison to other works of
art; and for "interpretation" the chief task is the
presentation of relevant historical facts which the reader is not
assumed to know. Mr. Robertson points out, very pertinently, how critics
have failed in their "interpretation" of Hamlet by
ignoring what ought to be very obvious: that Hamlet is a
stratification, that it represents the efforts of a series of men, each
making what he could out of the work of his predecessors. The Hamlet
of Shakespeare will appear to us very differently if, instead of
treating the whole action of the play as due to Shakespeare's design, we
perceive his Hamlet to be superposed upon much cruder material
which persists even in the final form. |
| We know that there was an older play by
Thomas Kyd, that extraordinary dramatic (if not poetic) genius who was
in all probability the author of two plays so dissimilar as the Spanish
Tragedy and Arden of Feversham; and what this play was like
we can guess from three clues: from the Spanish Tragedy itself,
from the tale of Belleforest upon which Kyd's Hamlet must have
been based, and from a version acted in Germany in Shakespeare's
lifetime which bears strong evidence of having been adapted from the
earlier, not from the later, play. From these three sources it is clear
that in the earlier play the motive was a revenge-motive simply; that
the action or delay is caused, as in the Spanish Tragedy, solely
by the difficulty of assassinating a monarch surrounded by guards; and
that the "madness" of Hamlet was feigned in order to escape
suspicion, and successfully. In the final play of Shakespeare, on the
other hand, there is a motive which is more important than that of
revenge, and which explicitly "blunts" the latter; the delay
in revenge is unexplained on grounds of necessity or expediency; and the
effect of the "madness" is not to lull but to arouse the
king's suspicion. The alteration is not complete enough, however, to be
convincing. Furthermore, there are verbal parallels so close to the Spanish
Tragedy as to leave no doubt that in places Shakespeare was merely revising
the text of Kyd. And finally there are unexplained scenes—the
Polonius-Laertes and the Polonius-Reynaldo scenes—for which there is
little excuse; these scenes are not in the verse style of Kyd, and not
beyond doubt in the style of Shakespeare. These Mr. Robertson believes
to be scenes in the original play of Kyd reworked by a third hand,
perhaps Chapman, before Shakespeare touched the play. And he concludes,
with very strong show of reason, that the original play of Kyd was, like
certain other revenge plays, in two parts of five acts each. The upshot
of Mr. Robertson's examination is, we believe, irrefragable: that
Shakespeare's Hamlet, so far as it is Shakespeare's, is a play
dealing with the effect of a mother's guilt upon her son, and that
Shakespeare was unable to impose this motive successfully upon the
"intractable" material of the old play. |
Of the intractability there can be no
doubt. So far from being Shakespeare's masterpiece, the play is most
certainly an artistic failure. In several ways the play is puzzling, and
disquieting as is none of the others. Of all the plays it is the longest
and is possibly the one on which Shakespeare spent most pains; and yet
he has left in it superfluous and inconsistent scenes which even hasty
revision should have noticed. The versification is variable. Lines like
Look, the morn, in russet mantle
clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill,
are of the Shakespeare of Romeo and Juliet. The lines in Act v.
sc. ii.,
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of
fighting
That would not let me sleep...
Up from my cabin,
My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
Grop'd I to find out them: had my desire;
Finger'd their packet;
are of his quite mature. Both workmanship and thought are in an unstable
condition. We are surely justified in attributing the play, with that
other profoundly interesting play of "intractable" material
and astonishing versification, Measure for Measure, to a period
of crisis, after which follow the tragic successes which culminate in Coriolanus.
Coriolanus may be not as "interesting" as Hamlet,
but it is, with Antony and Cleopatra, Shakespeare's most assured
artistic success. And probably more people have thought Hamlet a
work of art because they found it interesting, than have found it
interesting because it is a work of art. It is the "Mona Lisa"
of literature. |
|
|

|
The grounds of Hamlet's failure
are not immediately obvious. Mr. Robertson is undoubtedly correct in
concluding that the essential emotion of the play is the feeling of a
son towards a guilty mother:
[Hamlet's] tone is that of one
who has suffered tortures on the score of his mother's degradation....
The guilt of a mother is an almost intolerable motive for drama, but it
had to be maintained and emphasized to supply a psychological solution,
or rather a hint of one.
This, however, is by no means the whole story. It is not merely the
"guilt of a mother" that cannot be handled as Shakespeare
handled the suspicion of Othello, the infatuation of Antony, or the
pride of Coriolanus. The subject might conceivably have expanded into a
tragedy like these, intelligible, self-complete, in the sunlight. Hamlet,
like the sonnets, is full of some stuff that the writer could not drag
to light, contemplate, or manipulate into art. And when we search for
this feeling, we find it, as in the sonnets, very difficult to localize.
You cannot point to it in the speeches; indeed, if you examine the two
famous soliloquies you see the versification of Shakespeare, but a
content which might be claimed by another, perhaps by the author of the Revenge
of Bussy d' Ambois, Act v. sc. i. We find Shakespeare's Hamlet
not in the action, not in any quotations that we might select, so much
as in an unmistakable tone which is unmistakably not in the earlier
play. |
| The only way of expressing emotion in
the form of art is by finding an "objective correlative"; in
other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which
shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when
the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are
given, the emotion is immediately evoked. If you examine any of
Shakespeare's more successful tragedies, you will find this exact
equivalence; you will find that the state of mind of Lady Macbeth
walking in her sleep has been communicated to you by a skilful
accumulation of imagined sensory impressions; the words of Macbeth on
hearing of his wife's death strike us as if, given the sequence of
events, these words were automatically released by the last event in the
series. The artistic "inevitability" lies in this complete
adequacy of the external to the emotion; and this is precisely what is
deficient in Hamlet. Hamlet (the man) is dominated by an emotion
which is inexpressible, because it is in excess of the facts as
they appear. And the supposed identity of Hamlet with his author is
genuine to this point: that Hamlet's bafflement at the absence of
objective equivalent to his feelings is a prolongation of the bafflement
of his creator in the face of his artistic problem. Hamlet is up against
the difficulty that his disgust is occasioned by his mother, but that
his mother is not an adequate equivalent for it; his disgust envelops
and exceeds her. It is thus a feeling which he cannot understand; he
cannot objectify it, and it therefore remains to poison life and
obstruct action. None of the possible actions can satisfy it; and
nothing that Shakespeare can do with the plot can express Hamlet for
him. And it must be noticed that the very nature of the données
of the problem precludes objective equivalence. To have heightened the
criminality of Gertrude would have been to provide the formula for a
totally different emotion in Hamlet; it is just because her
character is so negative and insignificant that she arouses in Hamlet
the feeling which she is incapable of representing. |
| The "madness" of Hamlet lay to
Shakespeare's hand; in the earlier play a simple ruse, and to the end,
we may presume, understood as a ruse by the audience. For Shakespeare it
is less than madness and more than feigned. The levity of Hamlet, his
repetition of phrase, his puns, are not part of a deliberate plan of
dissimulation, but a form of emotional relief. In the character Hamlet
it is the buffoonery of an emotion which can find no outlet in action;
in the dramatist it is the buffoonery of an emotion which he cannot
express in art. The intense feeling, ecstatic or terrible, without an
object or exceeding its object, is something which every person of
sensibility has known; it is doubtless a study to pathologists. It often
occurs in adolescence: the ordinary person puts these feelings to sleep,
or trims down his feeling to fit the business world; the artist keeps it
alive by his ability to intensify the world to his emotions. The Hamlet
of Laforgue is an adolescent; the Hamlet of Shakespeare is not, he has
not that explanation and excuse. We must simply admit that here
Shakespeare tackled a problem which proved too much for him. Why he
attempted it at all is an insoluble puzzle; under compulsion of what
experience he attempted to express the inexpressibly horrible, we cannot
ever know. We need a great many facts in his biography; and we should
like to know whether, and when, and after or at the same time as what
personal experience, he read Montaigne, II. xii., Apologie de Raimond
Sebond. We should have, finally, to know something which is by
hypothesis unknowable, for we assume it to be an experience which, in
the manner indicated, exceeded the facts. We should have to understand
things which Shakespeare did not understand himself. |
|
 |
| |
| |
| |
|
|
|