43

CHAPTER THREE

HAMLET

Tn The Shakespearean Imagination, Norman Holland opens

his chapter on Hamlet as follows: "There are four subjects on
which more books are written than anything else in the world—
or so have I heard, and do in part believe it. The first
three are: Christ, Napoleon, and Shakespeare; the fourth is
Hamlet.1,1 Indeed, no other play seems to have been as fully
discussed or frequently actecL Hamlet is by far the most popu­
lar of Shakespeare's tragedies* It is believed that the play
was written between 1598 and 1602, when it was registered in
the Stationer's Company in London. The year 1601 is the most-
accepted date for the first production of Hamlet. The story
is found in the folk literature of Iceland, Ireland and Den­
mark, but a collection of these legends was not printed in
England until.1608. Shakespeare must have gotten his material
either from the French translation of this work, or from an
earlier play of Hamlet, which is now lost.
Hami ft-h is the story of a prince of Denmark who comes
back to his land after his father's death and finds the throne
already occupied by his uncle, who has married the widow—
queen. Hamlet mourns his dead father and is shocked at the
idea that his mother has been able to forget her late husband
so quickly. The ghost of Hamlet's father appears to him and
reveals that he had been murdered by his own brother. He
urges Hamlet to punish the murderer, but to spare Gertrude.
Hamlet swears to take his revenge "with wings as swift as
 44

meditation or the thoughts of love" and he decides wto put an

antic disposition on" in order to fulfill his task.
Giaudius and the queen, very worried about Hamlet's
strange behaviour, welcome his friends Rosencranz and Guilden—
s t e m to Elsinore and ask them to try to find out the cause
of Hamlet's distraction. Hamlet, however, confounds them as
easily as he does Polonius, the king's prime counselor who
thinks that the cause of Hamlet's lunacy is his frustrated
love for Ophelia, Polonius' daughter. Ophelia also helps her
father and Claudius to discover the cause of Hamlet's beha­
viour, but he acts and speaks very crudely to her, and the
girl can but lament, '"0), what a noble mind is here o'erthrown."
However, Claudius is now convinced that Hamlet is not a dis­
tracted lover and that his presence in Denmark is dangerous.
Hamlet, on the other hand, decides to take advantage of
the presence of a company of players in the castle, and arran­
ges for them to perform a play containing a murder very similar
to that of his own father. Hamlet wants to test the ghost's
words in order to be sure of Claudius' guilt. Perturbed by
the play, the king rises during the presentation and leaves
the room precipitously. He decides to embark Hamlet immediate­
ly to England with Rosencranz and Guildenstera, who will bear
sealed orders calling for Hamlet's death as soon as he gets
there.
Meanwhile, Hamlet goes to an interview with his mother,
who has allowed Polonius to eavesdrop on their talk. Polonius
hides behind an arras and is killed by Hamlet, who feigns a
fit of madness. Then he entreats his mother to abandon her
incestuous relationship with Claudius, and the ghost appears
once more, reminding Hamlet not to include Gertrude in his
revenge. She cannot see the ghost to whom Hamlet talks, and
thinks that her son is truly mad. Claudius, informed by the
 45

queen of Hamlet's deed, sees in it a good pretext for sending

Hamlet away, to which the prince passively submits.
Laertes, Polonius' son who has been in Prance, comes back
at the news of his father's death and finds out that his sister
has gone mad for that same reason; afterwards, she drowns her­
self in a brook. At her burial, Hamlet reappears. He had
arranged for Rosencranz and Guildenstern to be killed in
England, and came back to Denmark with the help of some pirates.
Laertes attacks him in the graveyard, but they are parted by
some attendants, and Hamlet leaves announcing madly his own
love for Ophelia.
The king convinces Laertes that Hamlet has to be killed
and they decide to stage the murder by engaging Hamlet in a
fencing match. Laertes' foil will have its point unguarded and
envenomed, and a cup of poisoned wine will also be at hand.
They trust that Hamlet, not suspecting any villainy, will not
examine the foils. The match is proposed and Hamlet accepts
it. This is the last scene of the play. Hamlet and Laertes
wound each other with the same weapon (which they accidentally
exchange): the poison is already in their blood. The queen
drinks of the poisoned cup and dies. Hamlet, being informed by
-fche dying Laertes that "the king is to blame,” finally kills
Claudius and also dies.
Critics have frequently discussed the character of Ham­
let, his duty to revenge his father's death, the nature of his
delay, and the peculiar situation where we see him placed. The
richness of Hamlet's character as Shakespeare has depicted it
has always accounted for the particular difficulties critics
have had in answering the major questions. The best known
theories about Hamlet's problem are those of the traditional
critics, who have always explained the hero's irresolution on
the basis of his excessive intellectual activity. Por Hazlitt,
 46

Hamlet's powers of action have been eaten up by thought, and

Coleridge also emphasizes the prince's intellectual activity
as opposed to his aversion to real action. Bradley's more re­
cent ideas do not disclaim, such views, but add to them the
importance of Hamlet's profound melancholy and his feeling of
"disgust at life and everything in it, himself included." Such
a feeling, Bradley says, is "adverse to any kind of action.”2
Hbwever, my main concern here is Hamlet's madness. As it
has been suggested in the first chapter of this dissertation,
I will try to focus on the problem of madness by means of an
analysis based on R. D. Laing's modern approach. Thus, I hope
to emphasize Hamlet's peculiar and individual kind of madness.
The biggest question asked about Hamlet's madness is "Is Ham­
let really mad, or does he just pretend a derangement that he
is far from experiencing?" In other words, does he use his
madness as a mask for his plan of revenge, or as a veiled way
of criticizing society? As Hamlet's character is rich and
complex, so his madness is also not one thing among many, but
rather a mixture of various different factors. It can indeed
be seen as a mask for a plan, a "stalking-horse,” so to speak.
Hamlet himself seems to admit this when he proposes the oath
after the "ghost scene."
As 1» perchance, hereafter shall think it meet
To put an antic disposition on—
(I.v.171-72)
Thus Hamlet decides to feign madness, and he actually
does so, as we are told by Ophelia in the opening scene of
act II. She reports to her father the strange way in which
the prince has come before her in her closet, "as if he had
been loosed out of hell to speak of horrors." (II.i.82-83)
Polonius, worried about his daughter, believes that Hamlet is
mad for her love, and goes to the king and the queen with this
discovery. Claudius, however, is not convinced; he doubts
 47

that Hamlet's distraction has so simple a cause as love. May­

be he has guessed, in the deepest part of his soul, the true
cause of his nephew's madness. Gertrude, worried about the
moral implications of her marriage to Claudius, relates Ham­
let's problem to this fact. It is indeed very interesting to
note that everyone has a self-centered explanation for Hamlet's
madness, depending on each person's individual preoccupations.
And if we examine each case carefully, we shall see that none
of them is completely wrong.
However, while they try to find out the "cause of this
defect," Hamlet wanders in the court, watching them carefully
like a witty observer. He tests them to see their reactions;
he scandalizes and tortures them; he makes them tremble and
look foolish. In a sense, this "madness" allows that same li­
cense the Pool used to have in the court. I have already men­
tioned the similarities between madmen and fools in my previous
chapter.3 As Hamlet "puts on" his antic disposition, he also
wears the fool's coxcomb, or the comic mask.
All this "wearing" and "putting on" suggests a rich imag­
ery of clothing, which is recurrent and important in this play.
Hamlet's madness is associated with a mask which can be assumed
or taken off whenever it is necessary. And this is a peculi­
arity with Hamlet's case, for madness is usually "unmasking"—
as in King Lear, for instance, where the old man is deprived
of everything, including his clothes. "Off, off, you lendings.'
Come, unbutton here." (King Lear. Ill.iv) Madness as "unmask­
ing" also happens to Ophelia, for the girl’s derangement allows
her to "take off" the cloak of court conventions and inhibi­
tions, and thus talk about things which she would never dare
mention before (images of love and sex which appear in the
ballads she sings). But Hamlet's madness is not unmasking; it
works as a disguise.
 48

Thus, Hamlet assumes his pretence and, in his new posi­

tion, becomes a critic of society— a bitter one— who utters
judgements that would be forbidden had he not been "mad." In
The Question of Hamlet. Harry Levin says that
When Hamlet, after playing hide-and-seek, is captured
and brought in attended by guards, his self-humiliation
seems complete, . . . But we should not forget that he
is stooping to folly in the grand Erasmian manner, and
that self-criticism is a premise which enables him to
criticize others.4
The mad prince becomes the "wise fool" who, by making himself
ridiculous, is able to criticize openly those "foolish wisemen,"
Claudius and Eolonius.
Therefore, Hamlet's madness is— or at least seems to be—
a mask for his plan of revenge, a "stalking-horse," which he
uses as a tool in his criticism of society. But, as a coin
has two sides, so Hamlet’s pretence also manifests two facets.
It does function as a disguise in the situations just mentioned,
but before Hamlet decides to assume it, even as the play opens,
we already find him in a very strange state of mind. He is
said to have always been introspective, given to reading and
lacking exercise. His excessive concern with his father’s
death and his mother’s second marriage, drives Hamlet to the
dangerous verge between madness and sanity. Moreover, the
ghost’s revelation brings Hamlet to such a state of mind
which, if not madness itself, is very close to it; one can
never be sure whether he is really mad or just pretending. Of
course, when he is with Horatio, his speech is sound and co­
herent and he looks quite sane. But his soliloquies are so
deeply rooted in sorrow and grief, so obsessively concerned
with fixed ideas, that one certainly doubts his sanity.
Hamlet is primarily concerned with his "iiausea" with
sex and women, which springs from the cruel deception he had
with his mother. "Frailty, thy name is woman! . . . 0 God.’ a
 49

beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourned

longer." (I.ii) Hamlet's treatment of Ophelia also reflects
his disgust with Gertrude. He delays in examining the girl's
face as if to discover traces of his mother's frailty in it.
Later, in the "nunnery scene," he openly insults her: ", . .
wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To
a nunnery, go, and quickly too." (III.i.138-40)
Hamlet's concern with obsessive images of sex, death, and
suicide seems to be a consequence of that peculiar attitude of
his to which Coleridge calls our special attention. "Hamlet's
mind," the critic says, "is constantly occupied with the world
C
within, and abstracted from the world without." Hxs percep­
tion of real objects and real actions is greatly dimmed by this
tendency to be excessively dominated by thought. Hamlet him­
self seems to realize this in his most famous soliloquy.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied over with the pale cast of thought.
(III.i.83-85)
It is not surprising that a man who is mainly preoccupied with
the mental and sensitive parts of his being should think so
earnestly about suicide. Hamlet suffers more in the mind than
in the body, which he wishes "would melt, thaw, and resolve
itself into a dew.'" (I.ii.129-30)
Coleridge says that the necessary balance "between our
attention to the objects of our senses, and our meditation on
the workings of our minds" is, in Hamlet, clearly disturbed.
Hamlet's perceptions of the real world pass through his senses
greatly altered by this imbalance, and he "loses the power of
action in the energy to resolve."6 This kind of "procrastina­
tion" is very peculiar with Hamlet. He lingers upon thoughts
and generalizations, giving to intellectual activity much more
importance than to actual deeds.
 50

Whenever Hamlet performs an action, it usually forced

upon him by accidental circumstances or by an outburst of pas­
sion. This is so, for instance, when he kills Polonius— "How
now.' A rat? ’ Dead for a ducat, dead."’ (Ill.iv) The same hap­
pens again at Ophelia's burial, when Hamlet advances from his
hiding-place, fearless of Laertes' reaction— ". . . This is I,
Hamlet, the Dane." (V.i) Also, in his sea-adventure with the
pirates, Hamlet is impelled to act without having time to think.
". . . and in the grapple I boarded them." (IV.vi,15)
This is, for Coleridge, the very peculiarity of Hamlet's
madness and the cause of his delay— Hamlet grows all "head";
his thoughts are disconnected from his feelings and ability to
act.
It is interesting to see how fitly Coleridge's ideas
apply to, and are complemented by R. D. Laing's mod em theories
about split personality, ontological insecurity, "embodiment"
and "unembodiment," etc. Here it will be helpful to open a
parenthesis to reinforce some of these ideas.
As it has already been suggested, Laing's work offers a
rich existential analysis of personal alienation. In The Divi­
ded Self, Laing says that his purpose is "to show that there is
a comprehensible transition from the sane schizoid way of
being-in-the-world to a psychotic way of being-in-the-world."7
As he sees the problem, the mentally sick individual is an out­
sider, estranged from himself and society, and cannot experi­
ence either himself or others as "real." This is what Laing
calls a problem of "ontological insecurity."
A man may have a sense of his presence in the world as
a real, alive, whole, and, in a temporal sense, a con­
tinuous person. As such he can live out into the world
and meet others: a world and others experienced as
equally real, alive, whole, and continuous.
Such a person, Laing says, is "basically ontologically
secure." In the opposite situation, an ontologically insecure
 51

person will try to devise a defense mechanism to protect him­

self, for his "living out into the world" and his "meeting
others" will be basically threatening to his "self." There­
fore, he will invent a "false self," or a "false-self system,"
with which he can confront both the outside world and his own
despair. This happens by means of a process of disintegration.
The person feels his real self to be "more or less unembodied";
he feels out of his body, which them becomes the core of a
"false self."^
Shakespeare's heroes, Laing says, are never truly psycho­
tic, for they "evidently experience themselves as real and
alive and complete."1° Indeed, it is so, but their "sane schi­
zoid" condition is drawn so near the psychotic type especial­
ly in the middle of the plays— that one cannot always realize
the difference. Hamlet is a good example of this.
We can say that Hamlet displays traits of "self-division"
right from the beginning of the play. The true self "is never
revealed directly in the individual^ expressions and actions"
and, as a consequence, "the direct and immediate transactions
between the individual, the other, and the world, . . . all
come to be meaningless, futile, and false."H Which better
testimony to this fact can we find in Hamlet, than his own
words in the first soliloquy?
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this worldJ ^ 133 37)

Hamlet's heart is divided between opposite feelings, as his

own self comes to be.
Immediately after the ghost's revelation, Hamlet knows
exactly what he has to do.
Remember theei
, . thy commandment all alone shall live
within the book and memory of my brain,
unmixed with baser matter.
(I.v.97-104)
 52

He knows his course, and yet he delays. Maybe Laing's ideas

can. account for this when he says that ’’there is something
final and definite about an act, which this type of person re­
gards with suspicion." The schizoid individual, in Laing s
words, "abhors action."12 Hegel's characterization of an act,
quoted in The Divided Self, implies that an individual is what
his act is, and "in the simple fact that the act is, the indi­
vidual is for others what he really is."13 This the schizoid
person must avoid at all costs, for revealing himself to others
as he is (in his own, true self) means exposing himself to des-
destruction. He must keep his "self" from any kind of contact
with the world, and this is why he creates a "false self."
"He wishes to remain perpetually uncommitted," Laing says.1^
This is precisely the case with Hamlet. He refrains from ac­
tion and develops a false self, like the antic disposition he
puts on. Thus he is able to keep his true, "inner" self un­
known and untouched by others.
As a result of his splitting into a true and a false
self, the schizoid person can only exist in perpetual isola­
tion, which is the self’s effort to preserve itself. Obvious­
ly, Hamlet isolates himself from other people in the play; the
only two persons who come into contact with Hamlet's true self
are Horatio and the queen. Hamlet sees Horatio as a just man
who is not "a pipe for Fortune's fingers" (Ill.ii) and, there­
fore, not a slave of passion (as Hamlet himself is). Horatio
can thus be seen as a part of Hamlet's own self (perhaps an
echo of the "double-man theory"15), to whom he must be true.
But whereas Hamlet's attitude towards Horatio never
changes throughout the play, it is only in the closet scene
that he can finally be true to his mother. He confesses that
his recent, strange behaviour is but the result of cunning,
and asks her not to reveal it to Claudius. He trusts her be­
cause he has seen the effect of his words on her, and also
 53

because she is, after all, his mother and can, as such, be also
seen as a part of Hamlet's "self."
In this scene we have the third and last appearance of
the ghost. It comes in precisely at the moment when Hamlet be­
comes more incensed in his torture of Gertrude. Three times
she asks him "no more," but Hamlet cannot stop directing his
rash words at her. In the beginning of the play, the ghost had
told Hamlet to spare the queen from his revenge. Now, the
spirit comes in once more with the same request:■ "Step between
her and her fighting soul." (III.iv.113-14) The ghost may not
want Hamlet to take any action against his (Hamlet's) own
mother, which would be a more unnatural deed than Claudius'.
Moreover, we can also infer this from the fact that when the
ghost talks about adultery and incest, he refers only to Clau­
dius, mentioning Gertrude as a victim of the villain's seduc­
tion.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts
0 wicked wit and gifts that have the power
So to seduceI— won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.
(I.v.42-46)
The Ghost of Hamlet's father is not primarily concerned
with images of sex and incest as Hamlet himself is. The spi­
rit's concern is revenge. Shakespeare's audience would
accept this ghost at once; Elizabethans really believed in
such things. There were three different contemporary theories
on the subject, briefly summarized by Professor Campbell:
Either the strange appearances which came as ghosts to
men are the spirits of the dead released to return tem­
porarily to earth, or they are the feigned appearances
used by the devil and his angels, or they are the fan­
tastic forgeries of men's minds induced by melancholy
or by passion.
Such were the theories current at the time of Shakespeare,
and the ghost of Hamlet's father seems to conform to all of
 54

them. Nowadays, interpretations of the supernatural in Ham­

let tend to rest mainly on Freudian ideas, according to which
the ghost is a projection of the hero's super-ego. This view
also explains why Hamlet cries "0 my prophetic soul.'" when the
ghost reveals Claudius' crime.1?
Another important fact about the ghost is that in its
first appearance it is only seen by Hamlet's friends on the
platform; the prince is not with them. When the spirit comes
in for a second time, Hamlet is also there to see and listen
to it. But in the closet scene, however, the ghost is only
visible to Hamlet, and the queen cannot see it. It is as if it
was meant to become more and more subjective as tJae play pro­
gresses; that is, more and more a product of Hamlet's mind,
where madness is gradually intensified. Thus, the interview
with the queen is the moment in the play when Hamlet is closest
to actual madness— or, at least, Gertrude believes so. In
spite of Hamlet's assertion that he is but "mad in craft,"
still one cannot be sure, for the very speech where he affirms
this suggests that he is deeply distracted. He urges his
mother not to reveal what he is about to tell, but he begins
his speech with "Not this . . and then goes on to say
things which are the very opposite of what he desires— "Let the
bloat king tempt you . . . And let him . . . make you to ravel
all this matter out. . . (III.iv.l83,187)
As it has already been said, however, Shakespeare's
heroes are never truly psychotic. Some way or another, they
always manage to recover from their dangerous position on the
border-line between a schizoid way of being—in—the—world and a
psychotic one. It is not very clear, however, how this re­
covery takes place. In Hamlet's case, it obviously happens
off-stage, for when he comes back from his sea-adventure, he
has already undergone some change. Indeed, we may say, with
 55

Bradley, that the Hamlet of the fifth act is a new man. He

has refrained from action, delaying because of too much think­
ing. (His attitude echoes Kant's theories, for Hamlet tries to
go beyond the nature of things— phenomena— to reach their true
essence, things-in-themselves— noumena.) To parody King Lear,
Hamlet has been more acted upon than acting; he has waited pas­
sively that something might happen that should decide for him
(maybe divine providence). His "motto" has been, as Bradley
puts it, "it does not matter," "it is not worth while," "it is
no good."1®
But, after Hamlet's frustrated trip to England, (the
turning point of the tragedy), all changes. The veil of melan­
choly and inaction has been somewhat lifted from his brow and
he is now ready to accept whatever may come.
There is a special providence in the fall of a spar­
row. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come.
The readiness is all. (V.ii.202-20,)
Hamlet's "motto" now seems to be "all is for the best." He has
achieved what Aristotle called "tragic recognition" and, in­
deed, it is the more tragic because, as Bradley says, it comes
too late. Now, Hamlet cannot avoid his own tragic fate. Once
more he gives his enemies time and opportunity to conspire and
prepare his death. There is no way to escape it now and Hamlet
accepts it with the realization that "all is for the best."
When all is done— the revenge performed, the king killed,
forgiveness exchanged with Laertes, Hamlet is finally in peace
with his own conscience; he is himself again. Nevertheless,
as is the case with Othello, too, Hamlet is worried about his
reputation; he does not want to leave a "wounded name" behind
him. So he asks Horatio,
Absent thee from felicity awhile,
And in this rash world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story. (V.ii.329-31)
 56

As Laertes had given his "dying voice" to Hamlet, so

Fortinbras also receives Hamlet's, and, as the new ruling power
in Denmark, gives the dead prince the treatment due to a sol­
dier killed in battle, one who would "have proved most royal­
ly" had he become king.

As Laertes and Portinbras are Hamlet's counterparts on

the level of action, so Ophelia in her sweet lunacy is the
hero's counterpart in the dimension of nmdness. He feigns a
madness that he does rot wholly have, whereas the girl's dis­
traction is true and complete. Ophelia is quite young and
innocent, loving to her brother and obedient to her father; her
love for Hamlet does not seem to surpass, in depth, her affec­
tion for Polonius and Laertes. Indeed, as Bradley says, "her
existence is wrapped up in these three. The triangle with­
in which she restricts her life determines her imminent isola­
tion and consequent death. Her brother is abroad and Hamlet,
gone mad for her love, kills her father; this is too much for
her. Ophelia's whole life collapses and her mind goes with
it.
The girl's sweetness and innocence are always associated
with flowers, water, and the prime elements of nature. In her
mad scenes, more than anywhere else in the play, this associa­
tion is evident. Ophelia mentions flowers in her songs and
also gives some specimens from the bunch she carries to those
who watch her. She is drowned in a brook, and dies all
dressed up "with fantastic garlands . . . of crown-flowers,
nettles, daisies, and long purples." ( I V . vii.169-70) At her
burial, references to flowers as symbols of her sweetness and
chastity are also constant. Laertes wishes that "from her
fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring," and the queen
scatters flowers in the girl's grave, saying "sweets to the
 57

sweet." (V.i) There is some irony here, because, since "her

death was doubtful," the priest is not willing to perform the
usual service of the dead, which begins with "dust to dust."
Nevertheless, "sweets to the sweet" fits better here and works
as a substitute for the normal rite. Thus, the flower-imagery
which surrounds Ophelia throughout the play adds a special
fragrance to the beauty of her character.
There is also irony in the fact that Ophelia's true mad­
ness treads upon the heels of Hamlet's feigned distraction. in
the "nunnery scene" she pities his derangement, but it is she
who will become truly mad in the end. One is reminded of the
Elizabethan belief according to which reason, like order in
the chain of being, was linked to the harmonious music of the
spheres.20 Ophelia was certainly referring to this belief when
she described Hamlet’s madness as "sweet bells, jangled out of
tune and harsh" (III.i.157). Her own madness, however, does
not seem to conform to the pattern, for the lyric quality of
her distraction is in perfect harmony with the beauty and
sweetness associated with her character. Nevertheless, the
irony persists; Polonius announces that Hamlet has gone mad
for Ophelia's love, but it is actually Ophelia who will lose
her mind because she has been deceived.
Indeed, Ophelia is the character who is most deceived
in this play. Hamlet deceives her three times: when he tells
her he loves her and then denies it; when he tells her he
does not love her any more, but still does; and when he makes
her believe that he is mad. Most critics seem to find it
strange that Hamlet should so deceive the woman he loved. More­
over, he also insults Ophelia openly. Gertrude's recent be­
haviour has driven Hamlet to think of women in a very unfavor
able light. Therefore, swept by a fit of passion (like Othello
when he strikes Desdemona), he cannot help directing at Ophelia
 58

the offenses that he should apply to his mother. As Harry Levin

aptly puts it, the "nunnery scene" is a rehearsal of the
"closet scene," where Hamlet finally discloses his tormented
soul to the queen. The same can be said of the "play scene"
where Hamlet’s indecent comments at Ophelia spring from his deep
disillusionment with women in general and with his mother in
particular. What Hamlet could not foresee, however, is that
Ophelia would go mad herself as a consequence of so much decep­
tion and suffering.
Nevertheless, her going mad and consequent suicide can
also be seen as a kind of preservation against further suffer­
ing. The gravedigger is not wholly wrong when he realizes
that "she drowned herself in her own defense." (V.i.5) indeed,
in spite of being the purest and most innocent character in the
play, yet Ophelia has to bear an enormous amount of pain. It
is fair that her innocence should be "rewarded" with a sweet
madness and a beautiful death, thus being spared from the final
•terrible scene of slaughter. She dies, as the queen says, as
one uncapable of her own distress." (IV.vii.179)
Ophelia's madness causes even more dismay among those
around her because of the images associated with it. In her
mad speeches, mainly in the songs she sings, she mixes refer­
ences to her father and to Hamlet, talking about death, love
and sex. When she sings
. . . Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more,
the king cries out in surprise, "Pretty Ophelia:" (IV.v) Such
a song with words such as these in it, sounds indeed very
strange in the girl’s mouth. She says things and asks ques­
tions that she would never have said and asked before. Thus,
Ophelia’s madness lifts the veil of court conventions which
had always inhibited her from expressing such thoughts freely.
 59

I have said that Hamlet never becomes truly psychotic

the play, because he is able to overcome his loss of identity
through tragic recognition. This is not the case with Ophelia;
here Laing’s ideas are thoroughly applicable. Unlike Hamlet,
Ophelia is not able to overcome her schizoid tendencies and
advances further into a psychotic state. Harry Levin says that
"the simple Ophelia is halved by loss of reason; she is divided
from her judgement, 'without the which' . . . 'we are pictures
of mere beasts."' (IV.v.82)21 This is very much so and very
"Laingian" too. Ophelia, being weaker than Hamlet, cannot put
herself together again, so to speak, and her poor, weak "self
becomes irremediably divided.
It has been said that there is a great difference between
"falling" into madness on the one hand and "diving" into it on
another.22 This may be seen as the way Hamlet*s madness dif­
fers from Ophelia's. She falls helplessly into madness, as one
falls into a deep, dark well, whereas Hamlet "dives" into it,
that is, he deliberately chooses this way. Ophelia, being
weaker than he is, is not able to win the battle against the
social and family pressures that come upon her, and so her mind
gives way to madness, "like sweet bells, jangled out of tune
and harsh."
Not only does Hamlet overcome such pressures, but he is
also able to turn against them in the role of the critic, the
"fool" who satirizes everything bitterly. The mask that he
wears works as a kind of "X-ray" with which he can see through
the conventions of society. Social convention is usually a
nickname for hypocrisy and corruption, and Hamlet's Denmark is
not an exception to the rule. The court is a place where pomp,
vanity and flattery characterize everybody’s actions, from the
king himself down to the affected Osric.
 60

Claudius *ceremonious entry on the stage with the whole

court following in a splendid procession is the first instance
of this. The king’s speeches are always delivered in the
smooth language of flattery, and his public affairs usually in­
volve some Machiavellian policy in the guise of skilled diplo­
macy. Deception and falsehood are the habitual instruments
used in the court. Hamlet is deceived in his ascent to power,
though the king pompously announces that "you are the most im­
mediate to our throne." (I.ii) Hosencranz and Guildenstern,
willing to win Claudius' favours, also enlist in the troop of
deceivers and, "sponge-like," try to find out Hamlet’s secret.
Polonius' love for figures of speech also reveals the impor­
tance given to artificial matters in the court. Corruption is
everywhere.
Moreover, we must not forget the primary reasons which
bring the ghost out of his grave: fratricide, usurpation and
incest, all performed by the same person, ’’the serpent that .
. . now wears the crown.” (I.v.39—40) The ghost’s appearance
portends cosmic disorder, which is also reflected in the body
politic (through rumours of political discontent and threats
of foreign invasion), and on the family-level, where ‘fc.ies are
broken and natural laws disregarded. Social order is jeopar­
dized, internally and externally.
Marcellus says, very properly, that "something is rotten
in the state of Denmark." (I.v.90) The rich imagery used by
Shakespeare throughout the play strongly reinforces this idea.
Images of gardening and of hidden disease are paramount here.
H&mlet describes the world as
. . . an unweeded garden
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely.
(I.ii.135-37)
 61

Well-cultivated gardens usually stand for order and nor­

mality in Shakespeare, but a garden that grows to seed is
related to neglect and chaos. Also, in V.ii, Claudius is com­
pared to a disease, a "canker of our nature" that will enter
into further evil if not stopped at once. The image is that
of a contagious infirmity which goes on infecting everything
around it (Claudius' drinking infects the Danish reputation
abroad, just as his powerful "distilment" had infected his bro­
ther's "wholesome blood").
Thus, Denmark is rotten and corrupt; it is a prison, as
Hamlet says, for he has seen through it all and can tell. His
madness has allowed him to do so, and in this new perspective
he can discriminate between false symbols and the "noumena,"
things-in-themselves. This echoes Laing's idea that everyone
who achieves knowledge must "take on the job at the top," 2 ^
that is, knowledge implies responsibility. Hamlet has been
responsible since the moment of the ghost's revelation. "I
find thee apt" the spirit had said, and Hamlet himself agrees—
"... I have cause, and will, and strength, and means to do't."
(IV.iv.45) We must not forget that this is also Bradley's
opinion: "The man who suffers as Hamlet suffers . . . is con­
sidered irresponsible neither by other people nor by himself.2^
But the responsibility that Laing talks about is not
that of revenging the murder of a father; rather, he is talking
about one’s responsibility for others. In Laing's view, mad­
ness reveals society to itself, and this is, precisely, Ham­
let's "job at the top," Like the "witty fool," the madman in­
corporates society's self-division in grotesque, exaggerated
forms; thus madness works as revelation and as potential sal­
vation for the evils of the world. Laing concludes The Poli­
ties of Experience with the following quotation:
If 1 could turn you on, if I could drive you out of your
wretched mind, if I could tell you, I would let you know.
 62

This is indeed what Hamlet seems to be saying; or, at

least, what he tries to say both to Ophelia and to his mother.
Horatio has already understood part of it, but Hamlet knows
that he will waste his time if he tries to convey it to Hosen-
cranz, Guildenstera, and Polonius, who are but tedious fools.
Society in Denmark is too corrupt to realize and accept the
truth behind the mask of Hamlet's Tnadness." Instead, they
take it to be true madness, and refuse to look into the mirror
that Hkmlet lifts up to them. In their attempt to protect
themselves (for "madness in greats ones must not unwatched go
(III.ii.l87)), they separate the unknown from the familiar—
and Hamlet is now the "unknown." So he is sent abroad, ". . .
this deed, for thine especial safety— . . . must send thee
hence." (IV.iii.39-41) This is, in Laing's terminology, "vio­
lence masquerading as love"^^; it is destruction in the guise
of protection*
Thus, Hamlet becomes the very embodiment of Laing's
ideas, a symptom and a victim of a sick society "heaven hath
pleased it so, . . . that I must be their scourge and minister«,"
(Ill.iv) Moreover, for Laing, the mad person also functions
as a source of cure for this same society, and Hamlet knows
this, too— "O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it
rightJ" (I.v) He know^ that there are painful discrepancies
between his aspirations and his accomplishments. His own,
inner self is sorely divided and he is sick at heart.
But madness itself is a way of comprehending and partial­
ly relieving personal suffering. Hamlet, having seen what he
has seen, has acquired the capacity of pulling free from his
"madness." He has undergone what Laing calls "an initiation
ceremonial" where the person on the verge of a schizophrenic
breakdown is driven "further into inner space and time, and
back again."2? Thus, Hamlet becomes finally able "to heal,
 63

to cleanse and to create harmony"2® in a sick society, prepar­

ing the way for that inevitable restoration of order which he
himself foresees and welcomes.
. . . I do prophesy th'election lights
On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice.
(V.ii. 337-38)
 64

NOTES TO CHAPTER THREE

■^Holland, op. cit.. p. 150.

2Bradley, op. cit., p. 97.

^See Chapter Two, 2.3 - Madness and Folly.

^Harry Levin, The Question of Hamlet (New York: Oxford

University Press, 1959), p. 125.
5s. t . Coleridge, ’’Lectures," Hamlet: Critical Essays, p.
31-
^ Ibid., p. 30.
7R. D. Laing, The Divided Self (Harmondsworth: Penguin
Books, Ltd., 1965), p. 17. Hereafter, DS.

8Ibid., p. 39.

^Ibid., pp. 66-69.

10Ibid., p. 40.

11Ibid., p. 80.

12Ibid., p. 88.

■^Hegel, quoted by Laing, DS, p. 87.

l4Laing, DS, p. 88.

•^See Chapter One, 1.2 - Review of Criticism.

Campbell, op. cit., p. 92.

^ S e e Chapter One, the "psychological" school of criti­

cism, especially Ernest Jones’s ideas about Hamlet.
Tft
Bradley, op. cit., p. 98.

19Ibid., p. 130.

20See Chapter Two, 2.2 - Madness and Cosmology.

 65

21
Levin, op, cit., p. 64.

22This image was once used by Karl Jung in relation to

James Joyce, on the one hand, and his mad daughter, Lucia, on
the other. The story is available in Richard Ellmann's James
Joyce (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959), p. 692:
". . . she and her father . . . were like two people going to
the bottom of a river, one falling and the other diving.”

2^fî. D. Laing, The Politics of Experience (New York:

Ballantine Books, 1967), p. 157. Hereafter P.E.
24.
Bradley, op. cit., p. 97.

2^Laing, P.E., p. 190;

26Ibid. p. 58.

27Ibid., p. 128.
28
Knight, op. cit., p. 20.