Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Revenge and Morality in Hamlet (final for Shakespeare)

Hamlet is, first and foremost, a play about revenge, but modern concepts of revenge and Elizabethan ones are not the same. Today, it is almost universally accepted that revenge, when defined “to exact punishment or expiation for a wrong on behalf of, esp. in a resentful or vindictive spirit” (Revenge)—particularly when it takes the form of an individual taking another’s life in payment for the life that he or she had taken—is a form of murder in itself. The prohibition against revenge was not so straightforward in the past. This essay examines what Elizabethan attitudes towards revenge were, if only certain forms of revenge moral, and whether revenge is moral from a biblical standpoint.

Wilson asserts:
Hamlet...was written by an Elizabethan for Elizabethans. If therefore we of the twentieth century desire to enter fully into that situation we must ask ourselves how it would present itself to English minds at the end of the sixteenth…We must be careful not to overlook those tacit understandings between Shakespeare and his audience which, just because they were tacit,…are more likely to escape us. (26)
This is a good attitude to have towards any piece of literature: an observer of Hamlet must not only look at their own reactions but at the perceptions and opinions of the intended audience. This is what Prosser grapples with: whether “Shakespeare’s audience endorsed blood revenge as an unquestioned duty” (3) or “reprehensible blasphemy” (6). Why the Establishment (that is, the government and church) would be against revenge is clear: it stems from “fears of civil disorder” (5). However, Broude emphasizes that:
“The Renaissance revenge and vengeance denoted not only the general idea of retribution but also each particular species of retribution authorized by any of the several socio-legal systems which coexisted uneasily in Tudor-Stuart England. An offense might be understood to have been committed against an individual or family, against a commonwealth, or against a divinity, and in each case a different concept of right and wrong retribution was all operative. (40-41)
In the case of Hamlet, the offense applies in all of these cases: Claudius killed his brother, offending his son, usurping Denmark for himself, and flying in the face of the king’s God-ordained position as the head of government. Hamlet cannot expect any civil authority to intervene when the new king is the perpetrator of the crime that affronted him. Prosser acknowledges this when she asks: “Faced with an outright murderer who continues to thrive, how can a would-be revenger possibly convince himself that patience serves the ends of justice?” (11).

Furthermore, Prosser summarizes that: “the Establishment condemned private revenge, but history denies that its campaign had widespread influence…Far more influential than the orthodox code of the Establishment were two popular codes that placed the demands of revenge above the strictures of religion and law” (4) and “most Elizabethans of all classes, not merely members of the nobility, considered blood revenge justifiable and even obligatory in certain special cases” (17). In this light it seems apparent that no matter how vehemently the Establishment was against revenge, Elizabethans were not so sold on surrendering their propensity to take matters in their own hands, nor would they have overtly disapproved of Hamlet’s actions.

There is still, however, the question of morality. Skulsky defines the “two popular codes” as: “the law of the talon and the code of honor” (78). These codes are not the same and from a modern perspective do not hold the same weight. “What the talon lusts after is nothing less than the total destruction of the hated object and of all that can be identified with it” (78). This is an apt description of Hamlet’s motivation when he states:
But in our circumstance and course of thought
‘Tis heavy with him; and am I then revenged
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?
No.
Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent. (3.3.83-88)
From a modern perspective, Hamlet’s decision is far from heroic; “Hamlet is devoted, at this point at least, to the death of his uncle’s soul; and the devotion is not ennobling” (Skulsky 79). Skulsky argues that the biblical definition of revenge, found in Numbers 35:19, prescribes that justice be dealt quickly, not after waiting for the murderer to sin again (79). Prosser takes an even stricter stance: “To be sure, the Christian must fight evil, but his proper enemy is his own sin, not the incurable ills that attend his life. He should welcome adversity as a loving gift of God” (12). This is not the prevalent attitude in modern societies: most Americans avoid adversity and hardship at all costs.

Moore takes a very different stance than most modern Christians probably would. He argues that revenge is allowed in Mosaic law, as long as another witness of the crime is available to testify, and that not only would Shakespeare’s audience realize this, but they would expect Horatio to become the second witness (503). This argument seems weak when coupled with the fact that no one actually witnessed Claudius’ crime: we only have the Ghost’s word to go on coupled with Claudius’ reaction to the play. Furthermore, Horatio did not witness Claudius’ confession as Hamlet did.

Moore disagrees with Skulsky about the sins of premeditation and disagrees with the attitude that: “if the avenger fails to kill the slayer at their first meeting, then he has disobeyed God's imperative—or missed his only chance” (502). He also finds it to be a “curious stipulation that the avenger of blood” is expected to “kill the slayer without enmity” (499). His observes “Hamlet's destruction of his old schoolfellows” (503)—when he sends them to their deaths in London—is just another example of the law of the talon seems a little harsh. Though one might suppose that their deaths do seem to be uncalled for, they are no more senseless that Hamlet choosing to damn Claudius’ soul and kill Polonius merely because he was hiding behind a curtain. Not everything in Hamlet makes sense.

Terry also deals with the codes of honor, which she establishes as relying on promise when she quotes Mervyn James: “the importance of ‘promise’ was that this gave the essence of honor, will and intention” (qtd. in Terry 1071). This intention stems from “an internalized concept of what it means to be an honorable man…honor was becoming, by the seventeenth century, a matter of conscience; honorable men needed to seek, in every situation, to behave in such a way to please both their state and their God” (1071). Terry seems to be saying that the old concept of honor was that, if a man gave his word, he had to do what he said he was going to do. This makes sense when one considers Hamlet’s determination to kill Claudius when it seems obvious that revenge is not his normal inclination. Hamlet’s honor being insulted, he immediately vows to revenge his father, just as the Ghost requests, saying: “Haste me to know’t, that I, with wings as swift / As meditation or the thoughts of love, / May sweep to my revenge” (1.5.29-31).

At first glance Hamlet seems to trusts the Ghosts report (1.5.109-111), but Hamlet is far from swift to revenge. Moore notes that “as Elizabethan audiences knew, the testimony of the Ghost may derive from a demon bent on Hamlet's damnation” (503), but does that even matter once Hamlet has given his vow? It seems that Hamlet is bound by the code of honor now; he cannot merely change his mind, no matter how long he grapples with his conscience. Wilson observes of Hamlet: “his inactivity, his inability to perform that on which his mind is set, that which he wills, corresponds with the emotional state in which he seems drained of blood, devoid of all desire save the desire of death, and even unable to accomplish that” (226), seems to be a clear symptom of “melancholy,” something that sounds suspiciously like depression. For most of the play, Hamlet is still paralyzed by the sorrow that his father’s death has brought him, and grapples not with revenge or honor, but with melancholy and death.

In the end, little in Hamlet seems clear cut; it’s all a tangled web of misdirection and indecision that comes to a bloody end. Hamlet gets his damnation of Claudius’ soul, but his own actions possibly damn his own soul in the process. Elizabethans probably would have approved of Hamlet’s actions as well as the questions he was asking. The witness’ question ends up being: does the Law still apply now that Jesus’ death and resurrection has perfected it? Not even Christians can agree on that point, so one can only give an imperfect and personal opinion in response. Personally, the stipulation about enmity makes perfect sense, and Hamlet sinned, but whether he is going to heaven or hell… only God could judge.

Works Cited
Broude, Ronald. "Revenge and Revenge Tragedy in Renaissance England." Renaissance Quarterly. 28.1 (Spring 1975): 38-58. JSTOR. Mesa State Col., Grand Junction, CO. 23 Nov. 2008. <http://0-www.jstor.org.www.millennium.marmot.org:80/stable/2860421>
Moore, Peter R. "Hamlet and the Two Witness Rule." Notes and Queries. 44.4 (Dec 1997): 498-503. Literature Online. Mesa State Col., Grand Junction, CO. 23 Nov. 2008. <http://gateway.proquest.com/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&xri:pqil:res_ver=0.2&res_id=xri:lion-us&rft_id=xri:lion:ft:abell:R01264856:0>
Prosser, Eleanor. Hamlet & Revenge. Stanford, CA: Stanford Univ. Press, 1967.
“Revenge.” Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. 09 Dec. 2008. <http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/revenge>
Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. New York, NY: Norton, 1963.
Skulsky, Harold. "Revenge, Honor, and Conscience in Hamlet." PMLA. 85.1 (Jan., 1970): 78-87. JSTOR. Mesa State Col., Grand Junction, CO. 12 Nov. 2008. <http://0-www.jstor.org.www.millennium.marmot.org/stable/1261433>
Terry, Reta A. "'Vows to the Blackest Devil:' Hamlet and the Evolving Code of Honor in Early Modern England." Renaissance Quarterly. 52.4 (Winter 1999): 1070-1086. JSTOR. Mesa State Col., Grand Junction, CO. 23 Nov. 2008. <http://0-www.jstor.org.www.millennium.marmot.org:80/stable/2901836>
Wilson, John Dover. What Happens in Hamlet. London: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1962.

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