Rotten in etc.

Top painting by Eugene Delacroix, "Hamlet Before the Body of Polonius," 1855. Bottom by Dali, "Hamlet Stabs Polonius," 1973

Class last week: we discussed the repeating imagery of rot, decay & disease in the play. I asked class: what could it mean? Why all this rot stuff? Tried presenting Shakespeare like a cool & intricate puzzle to be solved. Lively discussion ensued about the various ways characters are rotten, or are beginning to rot/corrupt. What is the source of infection? Claudius and his murder most foul? Or could there be more than one source—the ghost’s mandate-for-blood, perhaps? Hmmmmmm.

One student made an interesting point about how alike/corrupt/rotten or rotting both Hamlet and Claudius are. Both have creepy “unnatural” desires surrounding Gertrude. Both are cunning. Both are contemplative (we do see Claudius in soliloquy, considering his crime). And, as she pointed out, both are stone-cold murderers: Hamlet seems to feel nothing after accidentally killing Polonius; after that murder, Hamlet dispatches Rosencrantz and Gildenstern with nary a guilt-twinge. Yes I said nary.

In groups, students identified all the rot/etc. images from III.iv, the scene in which Hamlet confronts his mother in her bedroom, why are you screwing my uncle, etc., killing Polonius, etc. My favorite images:

In the rank sweat of an enseamèd bed,
Stewed in corruption

Hamlet is referring to the bed his mother shared with Claudius.
Enseamèd = greasy

It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen

Hamlet says this right after telling his mother, and I paraphrase, Don't comfort yourself by telling yourself I'm crazy and that you don't know what the hell I'm talking about (that your slutty gross behavior is an atrocity). Doing so will "but skin and film the ulcerous place..."

Mmmmmm...the ulcerous place.

Gertrude = Kardashian

Today we finished the rest of Hamlet 2000, then discussed.

In order to view the film, we had to walk from the classroom to the basement of the library, which is a five second walk. The class is at 8 AM. The second we step outside, this one student, I'll call him Daniel, has a cigarette in his mouth. During class he keeps a cigarette on his desk. He's 19. He's awesome. As we're walking, "You know what I can't believe? I can't believe people fucking dress up to come to school. Like last spring semester I saw this guy wearing a fucking chinchilla coat."

The class hated the movie. General consensus: Julia-Stiles-as-Ophelia was boring as hell. Nobody could figure out why, if she's a photographer in NYC, she was so blah, such an utter pushover, and why she went crazy--since in the scenes with her father, she either stares out into space, or is quietly crying. And what were her feelings towards her brother, exactly? Who the fuck knows.

Daniel thought Laertes-by-Liev Shrieber was "a perv," and believable. Students agreed.

He said that Gertrude, played by Diane Venora, "reminds me of the Kardashian mother." I could see that perfectly. He also thought the film was ridiculous because there were murders, and no cops. "You can't spit on the floor in New York without getting arrested."

After class, as he's walking out, he comes up to me: "GOD I fucking hate that old English. Can you imagine someone talking like that on the fucking subway? I mean, right?"