Hamlet's Heart

With the way Shakespeare is able to write the character of Hamlet, it’s very difficult to say what’s on the inside of the prince. He wears these masks, and he wears them so well that it’s difficult to tell exactly what the man is thinking at any given moment, no matter how many hints Shakespeare gives to the audience. They question themselves almost: Is this really what he wants me to think? Or is this just another act? Verily, it’s hard to tell which is the real Hamlet and when he comes out of hiding behind the mask.

If one had to say what Hamlet was feeling during this whole escapade, it would probably be hurt or betrayal, grief, for his father, of course, and mistrust for almost everyone around him.

The Hamlet that everyone sees – the one that he lets everyone see – is the smiling mask. This is best illustrated during the soliloquy where Hamlet is cursing his mother for marring his uncle and betraying his father. At the end of the speech, he says, “With such dexterities to incestuous sheets,/ It is not, nor it cannot come to good.” (I,ii,157-58) Beforehand, he was all discombobulated, interrupting himself, leading off with one thought and saying something completely different in the next line. That confusion and befuddlement – that turmoil – is what he’s really feeling, but because he isn’t able to tell anyone else – able to vent to anyone – he must put on a smiling mask. Letting someone who is loyal to his uncle know the absolute disdain that he feels for the new king could mean death for the prince. And it’s not so much the fact that he wants to get revenge on his uncle for the deeds committed against his father – the murder, namely – however, it’s the fact that the ghost of his father charged him with the task of avenging his death that also adds more to the muddle. Hamlet doesn’t seem like a violent person by nature, so killing his uncle, blood by his father, would seem really hard for him to do. He’s torn: be loyal to his father and kill his uncle, or let his uncle love and dishonor the memory of his father. (Daresay, this is almost like a redneck feud.)

Likewise, the audience is also shown his “true” nature, his real feelings, in Act 3, scene four where Hamlet confronts his mother. If one can’t show themselves to their mother, then who are they able to show themselves to? Of course, mommy dearest doesn’t completely want to hear her son – like any remarried woman wouldn’t want to hear their child complain about their new step-father. Hamlet goes on and on about how disappointed he is in her, how hurt he is by her actions, saying:

To give the world assurance of a man.

This was your husband. Look you now, what follows.

Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear

Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?

Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed

And batten on this moor? Ha, have you eyes?

You cannot call it love, for at your age

The heyday in the blood is tame, it’s humble,

And waits upon the judgment. And what judgment

Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have,

Else could you not have motion. But sure that sense

Is apoplexed, for madness would not err,

Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thralled,

But it reserved some quantity of choice

To serve in such a difference. What devil was ’t

That thus hath cozened you at hoodman-blind?

Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,

Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,

Or but a sickly part of one true sense

Could not so mope. O shame, where is thy blush?

Rebellious hell,

If thou canst mutine in a matron’s bones,

To flaming youth let virtue be as wax

And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame

When the compulsive ardor gives the charge,

Since frost itself as actively doth burn,

And reason panders will. (III, iv, 62-88)

He’s telling her that that man in the ground was her husband. Basically, he’s yelling at her for not even waiting until the corpse of her husband and his father is cold. He’s demanding to know if she even has eyes, and that show of raw emotion is what really makes-up Hamlet the man instead of Hamlet the mask.

Therefore, with the mastery with which Shakespeare writes his character Hamlet, it is difficult to get into his head, for the character wears many masks. However, to disagree with Eliot, Hamlet is not a failure as a character, for Shakespeare – in the writing of his tragedies is all one big masochistic super-bowl – gives his tragic heroes a flaw that seems to make them more human, and thus more relatable to his readers.