Hamlet's Father IV -- In Which Hamlet Desperately Needs a Straitjacket

Apologies for not posting sooner -- I've been fighting a nasty cold and, between coughing up a lung and my throat feeling like I tried to swallow a hedgehog whole, I haven't been able to get a post up in the past week.  But I'm pushing through to get you guys a few more posts before I have to return this book.  Because I love you guys.

Throat-hedgehogs be danged, we're forging

on ahead...

Hamlet and Horatio go to look at the crime scene... erm, the garden where Hamlet's father died.  It's a secluded spot, and there's a stone bench where the king was laying when he died.  And Hamlet notes that it's impossible to see into the garden from the battlements.  There's some back and forth between Hamlet and Horatio that doesn't amount to much -- there are a LOT of conversations in this book that feel pointless and don't go anywhere -- but the gist of it is that Hamlet's still questioning whether he was actually murdered and Horatio is all gung-ho about finding the killer.

"Do you doubt his word?"

"I haven't told you what his words were," said Hamlet.  "Nor shall I.  So I can hardly tell you my doubts, or if I have any."

"Then you have no need of me here," said Horatio.

"More need than you know," said Hamlet.  "Because you knew him."

"Who?"

"My father.  Who else?"

"I feared that you thought I knew his murderer."

This is, what, the third time I've used this meme?

Card kind of sucks at subtlety...

"If you did, you would have told it," said Hamlet.  (*coughcoughcough*)  "You knew my father, as I could not."

"If anyone knew him," said Horatio.

"Everyone knew him better than I did," said Hamlet.  -- p. 55

Waaaaaaaaah...

Horatio also reveals that the king probably fell asleep in the garden because he was tired from working.  Hamlet acts shocked, and Horatio tells him that he took care of this garden himself.  And of course, Hamlet has to whine that the king loved plants more than his own son.  For Pete's sake, kid, stop bellyaching.  This whining about how Daddy never loved you is getting old.

Hamlet whines some more, asking why no one ever told him about the king liking to work in the garden, and Horatio protests that it could have been because any mention of his father seemed to cause him pain.  Hamlet whines even more and goes "I wish I was back in Heidelberg."  Good, go back there, spare us the rest of this travesty of a book...

More discussion about the ghost and why it would appear to Hamlet now when he and his father were so distant in life... and Hamlet brings up the story of King Saul and the witch of Endor from the Old Testament (1 Samuel 28, for anyone with a Bible handy who wants to look it up), which interestingly is a point of contention among religious scholars.  Namely, whether the ghost of the prophet that the witch called up was an impostor sent by the devil or the real deal who showed up despite the witch's spellcasting.  An interesting bit, but it's quickly dropped.

No, not THAT Endor...

More conversation, and Hamlet says something about how certain acts are always right or always wrong, regardless of context.  Horatio disagrees, and brings up another Bible story to prove his point -- the slaughter of the innocents by King Herod in the New Testament. 

"What if one of Herod's men, hearing the command to slay all the innocent babes of Bethlehem, had decided instead that he would strike down the giver of that command rather than obey it?  It's always wrong to kill innocent babies, isn't it?  Even if your king commands?  And it's always wrong to kill the king, isn't it?  Even if he means to do something evil?" -- p. 59

*COUGHCOUGHCOUGHCOUGH*  Hey Hamlet, Horatio's trying to tell you something here... Seriously, Card, you don't need a ton of foreshadowing here.  It's like Brylcreem, a little dab'll do ya.  Here it feels like you're trying to drive the point home with a sledgehammer.

Hamlet's answer to Horatio's story is to suggest the theoretical soldier Take a Third Option and run away, which is real noble of our hero.  Horatio insists that if you run away when you could have prevented the killing of hundreds, you're as guilty as the killer.  Then MORE foreshadowing, oh goody...

"But if you kill Herod, you'll die.  They'll torture you to death as a traitor."

"There are worse things than death, my prince." -- p. 60

I'm sorry, but is it just me here?  Am I the only one who thinks that Card, in his efforts to be all clever, is being very blatant about what his twist ending is here?  Or am I only seeing these bits because I went into this book knowing the twist already?  To me, it feels less like Card subtly hinting at future events and more like he's firmly winking and nudging and pointing to his twist ending in an effort to get everyone to recognize the BRILLIANCE of his new ending to Shakespeare's most famous play.  In other words, I think Card sucks at foreshadowing.

Subtlety isn't your strong suit, is it, Card?

Hamlet gripes again about how he'll never be offered the throne now with Claudius in charge, despite insisting that he doesn't want it.  I think you want it more than you think, Hamlet -- why else would you keep bringing it up but pretending you don't care?  I call sour grapes here.

Horatio tells Hamlet to not be afraid of whatever he has to do to keep his vow to his father.  Way to go, Horatio, you broke things worse...  And Hamlet walks off, thinking about how you have to do wrong to amend a greater wrong, and we get a page break.

After the break Hamlet's wandering around the castle, and he realizes people are staring at him.  He figures that if Claudius could kill his own brother, what's to stop him from killing his nephew, and decides he needs to find a way to stay alive until he can get Claudius alone.  And to do that, he has to masquerade... as what?

Oh hey, Ophelia finally shows up!  But if you're at all a fan of the play or the character, you're going to be enraged by her role in this book...

Hamlet runs into Ophelia, who's laughing with one of her maids.  Hamlet acknowledges that Ophelia's had eyes on him for years, though he figures it's just because he's the prince.

Not any more, thought Hamlet.  No crown prince now, and so no dynastic alliance and no yearnings.

But he could make use of her all the same. -- p. 63

Yeah, you read that right -- make use.  Hamlet has no tender feelings for Ophelia and only sees her as a tool.  He half-undresses and waltzes into her room shirtless, stares at her like a creeper, almost kisses her, and then runs off.

...wat.

And spoiler alert for the rest of the book -- this is the only scene where Ophelia appears, and the only one where she has any lines (which consist of "Your Highness, what brings you to my room?" and "Will Your Highness take refreshment?" and "How can I serve you, my lord?").  I understand that Ophelia wasn't exactly the strongest female character in literature, but still, to see her reduced to a single scene and a handful of lines that pretty much make her nothing more than a living prop to the male lead is painful.  Please tell me I'm not the only person upset about this...

Also, Hamlet states that he has no interest in "any of her tribe."  So... Hamlet doesn't like women?  Is Card hinting that his protagonist is gay?  That's rather rich, considering how this book treats gays, but we'll get to that...

So Hamlet's genius plan is to pretend to be insane to throw off suspicion, and so spends his days groaning and yelling at people and shunning company.  Okay, I can stand behind this to a degree.  Whether or not Hamlet is truly going mad is a big theme of the play, one that I spent an entire class period debating on in my AP English class and scholars continue to discuss to this day.  And while by no means is it the definitive interpretation of the play, some scholars do think he was feigning insanity in order to throw off suspicion and get closer to Claudius so he could kill him.

Hamlet runs into Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, has a loopy discussion with them about hunting, fishing, and taking a journey to Hell together, and leaves them to gape after him.  Hey you two, get out of this book.  At least Tom Stoppard treats you two respectfully, even if you do die in the end...

Hamlet then crashes the throne room while Claudius is hearing a petition and makes a scene.  Polonius leads him out, Hamlet blathers on some about nothing, and then we get another lovely bit regarding Ophelia.

"You have a daughter, sir?"

"I have."  Polonius's eyes lit up at that.  It made Hamlet sad that even a madman would be regarded as an interesting match for his daughter, even if he could only sire mad children on her.

"Be sure to keep her out of the sun," said Hamlet.  "Bright sunlight can breed maggots in a dead dog; who knows what it can do to daughters, sir." -- p. 67

Ugh... Hamlet, you're a jerk.  Why do so many authors feel the need to write their protagonists as arrogant and selfish A-holes anyhow?

Hamlet does have one moment in all his clowning around and messing with people's heads where he regrets toying with Ophelia, and thinks how he might have been able to marry her and have kids.  But of course now that's lost to him and he blames his father, thinking that it's the king's fault that now everyone sees him as a raving lunatic and Ophelia won't go near him.  This is really egocentric behavior, to blame other people for your own screw-ups.  The king just asked you to avenge him, not to parade around the castle and act like you need a straitjacket.  That was your decision, bucko.

Page break, and we're stopping here.  Less than thirty pages to go... one more post.  This is going to be GOOD, people, and by GOOD I mean "hold onto your knickers, this is where Card goes bat-slag insane..."

Card when he came up with his idea for "improving"

Hamlet, no doubt...