DRJ #1: Hamlet, Act I

Shakespeare’s mastery of dialog is thrilling in its brevity and powerful in purpose.  Within the course of a single line, even a few words, he conveys such depth of meaning.  It feels as if he has a fountain of wonderful lines, but doles them out carefully to specific characters, lending them his voice to charm the reader.  Some characters, like King Claudius, are given boring and mundane lines, turning the reader away and building in a sense of the antagonist.  The hero, of course, is given the best turns of phrase: “A little more than kin, and less than kind!”  Hamlet’s classic line is the soul of sarcasm.  His snide retort offsets the fluffy and meaningless dialog spoke just prior by his uncle, conveying both Hamlet’s offense at his uncle’s recent marriage to Gertrude and internal, deeply personal woe.  Within this, only his second line, we already clearly see Hamlet’s contempt for his uncle, the King, and foreshadow the conflict to come.

Almost every line Hamlet speaks is filled with sharp turns and quick wit.  Only a few stanzas later, we are given a short soliloquy with not less than three of the most famous lines in all of English drama. First a bitter definition of depression, mourning and self loathing: “O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt / … / How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable / Seem to me all the uses of this world!”  Followed next by a marvelous simile extolling the grace of his father: “So excellent a king; that was, to this, / Hyperion to a satyr;” which, by its contrast, enhances Hamlet’s internal pain.  And followed closely by a classic pronouncement of anger toward his mother: “— Frailty, thy name is woman!”  Hamlet quickly progresses through the classic series of reactions to grief within a single page.

Shakespeare meters out his wit, allowing secondary characters a moment to shine, at least when he wants the reader to empathize with the character.  Polonius, for example, gives the classic speech on fatherly advice as Laertes prepares to return to France.  “Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; / Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.”  And, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be; / … / This above all: to thine own self be true, /” help the reader to feel compassion for Polonius.  This amplifies the meaning of his death at Hamlet’s hand to come, allowing us to understand another twist in Hamlet’s psyche, leading inevitably to tragedy.

Each time I read Shakespeare, the dialog becomes easier to understand and more powerful.  I began by carefully reading each of the footnotes in the Bedford text.  Most provided new insights that helped me understand the text.  But soon, they became ponderous, breaking me out of the flow of the dialog.  After a few pages, I stopped reading them entirely, focusing instead on the rhythm of the prose.  I’m curious to know if others found the footnotes similarly distracting?

Extra Credit

Hemmingway, Question #11:

It is hard to sympathize with Krebs without enduring the horror of war or alienation.   I have a loving family and spouse and supportive friends.  Although I have travelled around the world, I have been fortunate to be close to my family both during college and my working life.  It is hard to understand Krebs’ world, except at a cerebral level through various readings and analysis of the affects of war.  I have not experienced horrors on that scale in my personal life, though Hemingway’s description of Krebs clearly shows how the mind pushes horror away from consciousness, and along with it, the rest of Krebs’ emotions.  The difference between my personal experiences and the world Hemmingway describes is difficult for me to understand on an emotional level.  Of course I understand his difficulties on a concious level, but I hope that I never need to understand that sort of alienation on a personal level.

Walker, Question #8:

1.       He is not sure of the people around him.  So different than him.  His focus on the future, with this girl.  Children of his own to raise, and children of hers to help around the home.  Their religions are different, but it is of no matter.  She needs him and he needs her.  Different reasons, of course, but the need is there for both.   He knows she has suffered and he can provide for her.  Capable and strong.  He feels stronger every moment he is beside her.  Defining a new world for himself with her.

SSRJ #3: Peter Meinke, The Cranes

The rare beauty of the end of a loving relationship is symbolized by whooping cranes in Peter Meinke’s short story, The Cranes.  The poetic style of the writing paints a picture of two lovers nearing the end of life together.  Terse dialog forms the basis of the painting, and brief glimpses of the natural setting provide a backdrop for the couple to reminisce about the life together.  Filled with humor, slight regrets and deep love, the couple confronts tinges of fear as they head off together into the sunset.  I was reminded of the feelings of separation that I’ve experienced at key moments in life: leaving my friends at summer camp when I was young, my friends from college when we graduated, and of course the bittersweet family reunions that happen at funerals.

We are introduced to the central literary and classical symbol of the whooping cranes in the very first sentence of the story.  The birds are described positively from the start as “tall and stately” (1) while their actions mirror the mood of the couple, “staring motionless toward the Gulf.”   The uniqueness of the cranes is called out both in how they compare against the other birds, they “towered above the bobbing egrets and scurrying plovers,” (1) and in the man’s remark about their rarity.  I viewed this as symbolic of the uniqueness of the couple’s relationship, filled with love and lasting not only for the duration of their lives, but on into the sunset past their death.  They are able to maintain humor and love despite the vicissitudes of life.  Even though he “can’t smoke, can’t drink martinis, no coffee, no candy,” (8) and she feels that she is “just a lot of trouble to everybody,” (14) they still laugh together at their memories, support each other, and marvel at the beauty of nature: a truly rare and unique relationship.

The cranes are a classical symbol of life, bringing babies to hopeful couples.  But here, in a story clearly about death, they represent the new life together that begins when a satisfied life together ends.  There are few direct statements about death, but the feeling pervades the story.  Early on, she asks, “maybe this is the wrong thing?”  (8)  We wonder, what is she referring to? Slowly, more details are given when he “picked up an object wrapped in a plaid towel” and gives the toast “here’s looking at you kid.”  Although not directly stated, the implication is that they drank something.  Again indirectly, but toward the end we see the symbolic cranes “stepping delicately away from the commotion,” mirroring the couple’s separation from their life.  After they kiss, their eyes close, and the cranes fly away into the sun.  The implication, though never direct, is that our couple decided to end their lives together.

I’ve read the story a number of times, but still find it difficult to put together some of the smaller elements.  Meinke is so stingy with words that each one clearly is there for a reason.  If so, why mention the “shower curtain spread over the front seat?” (3)  Does it somehow relate to their joint suicide?  I’m also unclear on the meaning of the comment, “did you bring something for your ears?”  Obviously this was well prepared, but without direct comments it is hard to know for certain.  Perhaps my interpretation of the joint suicide via poison is incorrect?