Douglas Brode's novel, Sweet Prince: The Passion of Hamlet, is now added to the ever-growing collection of all things Hamlet. While not as overwhelmingly awful as it had been advertised to me, it certainly is a strange and not altogether pleasant entry into the Hamlet literature.
The novel is inspired by Sven Gade's silent film (see 10/19/14 post). Typing that line alone warns the reader of the spoilers to follow, but consider the abridgment a service to save you from having to read the entire novel. If you don't want the plot ruined, though, stop reading now.
The novel opens with a back story to the usual Hamlet narrative. We are introduced to the same characters with whom we are familiar. Claudius (called Fengon) and Gertrude are romantically involved, leaving Old Hamblet as a not-entirely unknowing cuckold. Polonius and Ophelia round out the royal court. Young Amuleth (Hamlet), child of Old Hamblet and Gertrude, is a student at Wittenberge with friends Fortinbras and Horatio. Laertes, too, is there, although he is much the alcohol abuser and ladies' man.
The home situation reaches a boil when Hamblet dies at the point of Fengon's sword. The death is ascribed to marauders. A funeral and hasty marriage follow, and Brode provides a reason why this turn of events occurs and why Amuleth (soon to be Hamlet) does not rise to Denmark's throne.
The action follows the predictable Shakespearean-inspired path. Hamlet puts on a bit of an antic disposition, for a time in the guise of a cross-dresser. A roving group of players perform a grisly play for the members of the court, leading an offended Claudius to stagger from the room in search of light. Hamlet visits Gertrude's chamber for the anticipated confrontation. Suddenly, the action veers sharply a la Gade. His film took an extraordinary liberty with Shakespeare's original: it turned Hamlet into a princess. Brode uses the same plot element. We learn that Gertrude gave birth to a daughter and has been hiding this from Denmark for decades. Following the revelation, a concealed Polonius is stabbed to death.
What follows is awkward both in the action of the story and in its written word. The prince is now a princess, and the personal pronoun shifts from he to she. Horatio heads out into the woods for a homosexual liaison with Hamlet and discovers the true gender of his friend. The two engage in lovemaking described in graphic terms. Ophelia stumbles upon the two, believes that she is seeing two men making love and staggers away, ending up in the river. In this instance, though, she is saved from drowning by Fortinbras, on his way to the castle.
The plot for Hamlet's death is hatched with Gertrude as the chief conspirator. The duel follows. Hamlet unveils her true self to the entire court. A sword fight with an unbated sword follows. Laertes is stabbed to death on his own foil. Gertrude drinks poison purposely to save her daughter from death. Claudius dies at his own hand, falling on his sword. At the moment of death, though, he unleashes yet one more shocking plot twist: he is Hamlet's true father. We discover that Old Hamblet had a notion of this, but he chose to believe Gertrude's lies to the contrary.
After some self-realization by Hamlet, the story ends with the four friends--Hamlet, Horatio, Ophelia and Fortinbras--as rulers of a new "modern" kingdom. Brode alludes to this modernity extending into bedroom activities including all four of them. The players (remember them?) ride off into the sunset and everyone lives happily ever after.
A strange novel, indeed! In the introduction to the work, Brode discusses his writing method. He states that all of the written dialogue is taken from one of Shakespeare's written works, be it play or sonnet. While I did not check this (nor do I intend to), the novel read as if it were an accurate statement. Taking Shakepeare's lines and putting them into different contexts at times came across as amateurish, though. Old Will must have groaned to see "Once more into the breach" used by Gertrude as a come-on to Fengon for a second romantic liaison or to see Hamlet ask an amorous Horatio if her beaver is "easier than it was." Much of the description of romantic encounters is exceedingly graphic, moreso than is truly necessary to make one's point. It appears that Brode got caught up in the enjoyment of his writing. I must give special note, however, to perhaps the most clever line to appear in the work: Hamlet is called "the prince formerly known as Artist." Bravo!
Overall, I cannot recommend this one to the general reading public, for one very important reason. It tarnishes Shakespeare's original. I dread the thought that someone might read this alone and think that it is representative of Hamlet. I could recommend it to those who are familiar with Hamlet, if only to use as an example of what one can do with the story, for better and for worse.
Monday, December 7, 2015
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Seasonal Shakespeare
Finally, some time for Shakespeare! Granted, that meant that this week's post is two days later than usual. Last night was the big-screen presentation of The Winter's Tale, courtesy of the Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company and the Garrick Theatre. It was another among the many terrific works brought to audiences by Fathom Events.
I have to get the negativity out of the way first. The show was scheduled to start at 7:30 p.m. The curtain did not rise until 8 p.m., though. For thirty minutes it was credit screens and an overhead shot of the theatre audience, with a Kenneth Branagh narrated introduction thrown in the middle. While the introduction was interesting, it could have been shown promptly at 7:30 p.m. or before. There really is no reason that a show should not start at the scheduled time. (And really. 8 p.m. EST is 1 a.m. GMT. Why is this advertised as "live" theatre? Is a performance really being staged in London at 1 a.m.?)
Another minor issue was the cinematography. The play was shot in 16:9 Cinemascope. It gave this viewer a constrained, claustrophobic feeling. While the extreme wide angle was good to capture all of the lateral action, losing the top and bottom of the frame did give it a tight perspective. It could have been better with more height and less width.
There. On to the acting, which was excellent! Kenneth Branagh as Leontes was the slimiest, most wretched villain I have seen in a while. Branagh played it absolutely to the hilt--at once pitiable and detestable. The tragedy portion of the play, which covered the first half of the performance, was at times difficult to watch. The interval was much needed, if only to catch one's breath and to get some relief from having to see Leontes mistreat his family. Judy Dench as Paulina and Miranda Raison as Hermione were additional stand-out performances.
The second half of the play, the pastoral comedy portion, seemed to drag a bit. (That could have been due to the late start and the twenty-minute interval.) Once the main cast was all reassembled for the climax of the play, though, the action picked up. The final scene, with the appearance of the statue of Hermione, was well done. It was suitably emotional and not emotive. The audience was left with the feeling of a happy ending...as long as they forgot that because of Leontes, Mamillius is still dead.
Overall, it was a very pleasant evening at the cinema. I was impressed with the quality of Branagh's company, minor production issues notwithstanding. The troupe will present Romeo and Juliet next year (as we were reminded repeatedly throughout the previews and interval). Although it's a long way off, it is one more performance that I will hope to see.
I have to get the negativity out of the way first. The show was scheduled to start at 7:30 p.m. The curtain did not rise until 8 p.m., though. For thirty minutes it was credit screens and an overhead shot of the theatre audience, with a Kenneth Branagh narrated introduction thrown in the middle. While the introduction was interesting, it could have been shown promptly at 7:30 p.m. or before. There really is no reason that a show should not start at the scheduled time. (And really. 8 p.m. EST is 1 a.m. GMT. Why is this advertised as "live" theatre? Is a performance really being staged in London at 1 a.m.?)
Another minor issue was the cinematography. The play was shot in 16:9 Cinemascope. It gave this viewer a constrained, claustrophobic feeling. While the extreme wide angle was good to capture all of the lateral action, losing the top and bottom of the frame did give it a tight perspective. It could have been better with more height and less width.
There. On to the acting, which was excellent! Kenneth Branagh as Leontes was the slimiest, most wretched villain I have seen in a while. Branagh played it absolutely to the hilt--at once pitiable and detestable. The tragedy portion of the play, which covered the first half of the performance, was at times difficult to watch. The interval was much needed, if only to catch one's breath and to get some relief from having to see Leontes mistreat his family. Judy Dench as Paulina and Miranda Raison as Hermione were additional stand-out performances.
The second half of the play, the pastoral comedy portion, seemed to drag a bit. (That could have been due to the late start and the twenty-minute interval.) Once the main cast was all reassembled for the climax of the play, though, the action picked up. The final scene, with the appearance of the statue of Hermione, was well done. It was suitably emotional and not emotive. The audience was left with the feeling of a happy ending...as long as they forgot that because of Leontes, Mamillius is still dead.
Overall, it was a very pleasant evening at the cinema. I was impressed with the quality of Branagh's company, minor production issues notwithstanding. The troupe will present Romeo and Juliet next year (as we were reminded repeatedly throughout the previews and interval). Although it's a long way off, it is one more performance that I will hope to see.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Driven to Distraction
I have not had much time of late to devote to things Hamlet. The burdens of work have kept me from being able to sit with a full-scale production or a piece of writing longer than a short passage. With the Thanksgiving holiday very near (and Christmas break just about one month away), I look forward to getting back to Hamlet and other Shakespearean delights.
When I do, one of the first things could be a book that I picked up late in the summer: Sweet Prince: The Passion of Hamlet by Douglas Brode. A novel about the characters, it was recommended, although not entirely positively. The tagline on the rear cover--"Was Hamlet gay?"--perhaps should dissuade me. In any event, the book is there, perched among many on my "To Read" list. Until then...
When I do, one of the first things could be a book that I picked up late in the summer: Sweet Prince: The Passion of Hamlet by Douglas Brode. A novel about the characters, it was recommended, although not entirely positively. The tagline on the rear cover--"Was Hamlet gay?"--perhaps should dissuade me. In any event, the book is there, perched among many on my "To Read" list. Until then...
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Zhivago Hamlet
Here's another offbeat entry into the Hamlet world. A poetic "Hamlet" appears in Boris Pasternak's novel, Doctor Zhivago. An English translation of the poem is presented in the Bloom anthology. After reading it and deciding that it was post-worthy, I made a quick Internet search to find the poem for shameless cutting-and-pasting. I found the Russian version, but my ability to read Cyrillic is a bit rusty (i.e., completely nonexistent). English translations abound, but they also differ in text. Presented below are two variations, one by Ann Pasternak Slater and the other by Eleanor Rowe. (Incidentally, neither is an exact replication of the version I read originally.)
Version I: Ann Pasternak Slater translation
The murmurs ebb; onto the stage I enter.
I am trying, standing in the door,
To discover in the distant echoes
What the coming years may hold in store.
The nocturnal darkness with a thousand
Binoculars is focused onto me.
Take away this cup, O Abba, Father,
Everything is possible to thee.
I am fond of this thy stubborn project,
And to play my part I am content.
But another drama is in progress,
And, this once, O let me be exempt.
But the plan of action is determined,
And the end irrevocably sealed.
I am alone; all round me drowns in falsehood:
Life is not a walk across a field.
(http://www.theguardian.com/books/2010/nov/06/saturday-poem-hamlet-boris-pasternak)
Version II: Eleanor Rowe translation
The rumbling has grown quiet. I walk out on the stage.
Leaning against a door jamb,
I try to catch in a distant echo
What will happen in my lifetime.
At me is aimed the murkiness of night;
I'm pinned by a thousand opera glasses.
If only it is possible, Abba, Father,
May this cup be carried past me.
I cherish your stubborn design
And am agreed to play this role.
But now a different drama is underway;
This time, release me.
But the order of the acts has been determined,
And the ending of the journey cannot be averted.
I am alone; all drowns in Pharisaism.
To live life is not to cross a field.
(http://www.johnderbyshire.com/Readings/hamlet.html)
Version I: Ann Pasternak Slater translation
The murmurs ebb; onto the stage I enter.
I am trying, standing in the door,
To discover in the distant echoes
What the coming years may hold in store.
The nocturnal darkness with a thousand
Binoculars is focused onto me.
Take away this cup, O Abba, Father,
Everything is possible to thee.
I am fond of this thy stubborn project,
And to play my part I am content.
But another drama is in progress,
And, this once, O let me be exempt.
But the plan of action is determined,
And the end irrevocably sealed.
I am alone; all round me drowns in falsehood:
Life is not a walk across a field.
(http://www.theguardian.com/books/2010/nov/06/saturday-poem-hamlet-boris-pasternak)
Version II: Eleanor Rowe translation
The rumbling has grown quiet. I walk out on the stage.
Leaning against a door jamb,
I try to catch in a distant echo
What will happen in my lifetime.
At me is aimed the murkiness of night;
I'm pinned by a thousand opera glasses.
If only it is possible, Abba, Father,
May this cup be carried past me.
I cherish your stubborn design
And am agreed to play this role.
But now a different drama is underway;
This time, release me.
But the order of the acts has been determined,
And the ending of the journey cannot be averted.
I am alone; all drowns in Pharisaism.
To live life is not to cross a field.
(http://www.johnderbyshire.com/Readings/hamlet.html)
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Poetic Hamlet
In the Bloom critical anthology, I came across several poems dedicated to Hamlet. They were written by Walter de la Mare, who has penned numerous poems about Shakespearean characters. The Bloom volume contained the three poems relevant to Hamlet: "Hamlet," "Polonius," and "Ophelia." I included the text of the tribute to the title character below, courtesy of an Internet site (referenced after). It is an interesting portrait of Denmark's Prince.
Umbrageous cedars murmuring symphonies
Stooped in late twilight o'er dark Denmark's Prince:
He sat, his eyes companioned with dream--
Lustrous large eyes that held the world in view
As some entranced child's a puppet show.
Darkness gave birth to the all-trembling stars,
And a far roar of long-drawn cataracts,
Flooding immeasurable night with sound.
He sat so still, his very thoughts took wing,
And, lightest Ariels, the stillness haunted
With midge-like measures; but, at last, even they
Sank 'neath the influences of his night.
The sweet dust shed faint perfume in the gloom;
Through all wild space the stars' bright arrows fell
On the lone Prince--the troubled son of man--
On Time's dark waters in unearthly trouble:
Then, as the roar increased, and one fair tower
Of cloud took sky and stars with majesty,
He rose, his face a parchment of old age,
Sorrow hath scribbled o'er, and o'er, and o'er.
Other poems at http://www.readbookonline.net/books/De%20la%20Mare/389/
Umbrageous cedars murmuring symphonies
Stooped in late twilight o'er dark Denmark's Prince:
He sat, his eyes companioned with dream--
Lustrous large eyes that held the world in view
As some entranced child's a puppet show.
Darkness gave birth to the all-trembling stars,
And a far roar of long-drawn cataracts,
Flooding immeasurable night with sound.
He sat so still, his very thoughts took wing,
And, lightest Ariels, the stillness haunted
With midge-like measures; but, at last, even they
Sank 'neath the influences of his night.
The sweet dust shed faint perfume in the gloom;
Through all wild space the stars' bright arrows fell
On the lone Prince--the troubled son of man--
On Time's dark waters in unearthly trouble:
Then, as the roar increased, and one fair tower
Of cloud took sky and stars with majesty,
He rose, his face a parchment of old age,
Sorrow hath scribbled o'er, and o'er, and o'er.
Other poems at http://www.readbookonline.net/books/De%20la%20Mare/389/
Sunday, November 1, 2015
Bamlet
A two-for-one special on posts today... As much as I detest discussing politics, I could not resist the photo from today's New York Post. I don't know how I feel about Shakespeare's tragic hero being compared to the subject of the article, but it does provide for amusing copy.
Halloween Hamlet
What better way to spend a Halloween evening than with Hamlet and vampires? The opportunity presented itself in the guise of the film, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Undead. Like its relative, Zombie Hamlet, this was another one of those "Because I had a gift card" purchases. (See 9/27/15 post.) Unlike its relative, this film was an unfunny and muddled mess.
The film opens with the following disclaimer: "Since the 1600's there have been numerous versions of Shakespeare's Hamlet adapted to portray vampires. This is one of them." I don't recall any other versions of Hamlet and vampires; maybe they don't get as much press as the non-vampirical ones. The premise of the film involves Julian, a rather unlikable loser who lives in a room in the office of his father, a doctor. Julian's father, attempting to give his son some ambition to change his lot, presents Julian with a newspaper want-ad: "Off-Broadway production of Hamlet seeks young controllable human theatre director." Julian comments that it sounds pretty stupid (viewer be warned), but he heads to the theatre anyway.
Julian meets theatre owner, playwright, and resident vampire, Theo Holmes. The play for which Theo needs a director is his work, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Undead. Upon seeing the title, Julian comments, "Gonna be interesting to see how Shakespeare and zombies go together." When Theo corrects him that the play involves vampires, not zombies, Julian retorts, "Yeah, that makes way more sense." (Another warning to the viewer.)
During rehearsals, we see Julian's treatment of the characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. He ties them together, literally, to reinforce the idea that they are part of one character. (Seen it before; 8/25/13 post.) The actors are awful. Consider this contribution from one of the pair: "Since we're talking about the play, right, like, I was thinking we could do these modernizations, bro." Instead of Rosencrantz and Guildensterns (with the extra s), he offers the following updates:
Whereas Zombie Hamlet proved that one could have fun with the Shakespearean work, this film disproved the point. It tries too hard to be funny, and none of the humor works. (In fact, the film put this blogger to sleep, multiple times.) The DVD contains deleted scenes, which leads this one to wonder how bad a scene must be not to make this film. If you decide to give this one a try, be warned. It's not a very satisfying ride.
The film opens with the following disclaimer: "Since the 1600's there have been numerous versions of Shakespeare's Hamlet adapted to portray vampires. This is one of them." I don't recall any other versions of Hamlet and vampires; maybe they don't get as much press as the non-vampirical ones. The premise of the film involves Julian, a rather unlikable loser who lives in a room in the office of his father, a doctor. Julian's father, attempting to give his son some ambition to change his lot, presents Julian with a newspaper want-ad: "Off-Broadway production of Hamlet seeks young controllable human theatre director." Julian comments that it sounds pretty stupid (viewer be warned), but he heads to the theatre anyway.
Julian meets theatre owner, playwright, and resident vampire, Theo Holmes. The play for which Theo needs a director is his work, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Undead. Upon seeing the title, Julian comments, "Gonna be interesting to see how Shakespeare and zombies go together." When Theo corrects him that the play involves vampires, not zombies, Julian retorts, "Yeah, that makes way more sense." (Another warning to the viewer.)
During rehearsals, we see Julian's treatment of the characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. He ties them together, literally, to reinforce the idea that they are part of one character. (Seen it before; 8/25/13 post.) The actors are awful. Consider this contribution from one of the pair: "Since we're talking about the play, right, like, I was thinking we could do these modernizations, bro." Instead of Rosencrantz and Guildensterns (with the extra s), he offers the following updates:
- Rosenbros and Guildendude
- Dudenkrantz and Dogenstern
- Rosenbros and Goldenho
Whereas Zombie Hamlet proved that one could have fun with the Shakespearean work, this film disproved the point. It tries too hard to be funny, and none of the humor works. (In fact, the film put this blogger to sleep, multiple times.) The DVD contains deleted scenes, which leads this one to wonder how bad a scene must be not to make this film. If you decide to give this one a try, be warned. It's not a very satisfying ride.
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