هملت

بزرگترین قیصرها دیگر جز اندکی خاکستر نیست، و آنکه به لرزه درمی‌آورد اکنون به درد کمترین کارها می‌خورد، به درد اینکه سوراخی را بدو مسدود کنند تا باد زمستانی به درون نوزد!


بودن، یا نبودن، سؤال اینجاست

آیا شایسته تر آن است که به تیر و تازیانهٔ تقدیرِ جفاپیشه تن دردهیم،

و یا تیغ برکشیده و با دریایی از مصائب بجنگیم و به آنان پایان دهیم؟

بمیریم، به خواب رویم- و دیگر هیچ.

و در این خواب دریابیم که رنج‌ها و هزاران زجری که این تن خاکی می‌کشد، به پایان آمده.

این سرانجامی است که مشتافانه بایستی آرزومند آن بود.

مردن، به خواب رفتن، به خواب رفتن، و شاید خواب دیدن…

ها! مشکل همین جاست؛ زیرا اندیشه اینکه در این خواب مرگ

پس از رهایی از این پیکر فانی، چه رویاهایی پدید می‌آید

ما را به درنگ وامی‌دارد؛ و همین مصلحت اندیشی است

که این گونه بر عمر مصیبت می‌افزاید.

وگرنه کیست که خفّت و ذلّت زمانه، ظلم ظالم،

اهانت فخرفروشان، رنج‌های عشق تحقیرشده، بی شرمی منصب داران

و دست ردّی که نااهلان بر سینه شایستگان شکیبا می‌زنند، همه را تحمل کند،

در حالی که می‌تواند خویش را با خنجری برهنه خلاص کند؟

کیست که این بار گران را تاب آورد،

و زیر بار این زندگی زجرآور، ناله کند و خون دل خورد؟

اما هراس از آنچه پس از مرگ پیش آید،

از سرزمینی ناشناخته که از مرز آن هیچ مسافری بازنگردد،

اراده آدمی را سست نماید.

و وامی‌داردمان که مصیبت‌های خویش را تاب آوریم،

نه اینکه به سوی آنچه بگریزیم که از آن هیچ نمی‌دانیم.

و این آگاهی است که ما همه را جبون ساخته،

و این نقش مبهم اندیشه است که رنگ ذاتی عزم ما را بی‌رنگ می‌کند.

و از این رو اوج جرءت و جسارت ما

از جریان ایستاده

و ما را از عمل بازمی‌دارد.

آه دیگر خاموش، اوفیلیای مهربان! ای پری زیبا، در نیایش‌های خویش، گناهان مرا نیز به یاد آر.

خلاصه داستان:
دانمارک، قرن پانزدهم، هملت شاهزادهٔ دانمارک باشنیدن خبر مرگ پدرش به کاخ پادشاهی می‌آید و می‌بیند عمویش کلادیوس بر تخت نشسته و بدون کوچکترین احترامی به آداب و رسوم، با مادرش"ملکه گرترود" نیز ازدواج کرده است. هملت از این اوضاع برآشفت و بدگمان شد. تا اینکه یک شب خواب دید روح پدر به هملت می‌گوید که کلادیوس او را از طریق چکاندن زهر در گوشش به وقت خواب کشته است و درخواست انتقام می‌کند. هملت قول می‌دهد از دستور او اطاعت کند. با ورود دسته ای بازیگر دوره گرد، هملت برای اطمینان از درستی سخنان روح و شبح پدر، از آنها می‌خواهد نمایشنامه ای به نام قتل گوندزاگا را درحضور شاه به روی صحنه بیاورند. موضوع این نمایش نامه، به گونه ای بازآفرینی جنایت کلادیوس است و داستانش به ماجرای کشته شدن شاهی به دست برادرش مربوط می‌شود. شاه به هنگام تماشای نمایش آنچنان دچار آشفتگی می‌شود که مجبور به ترک تالار نمایش می‌شود. این عکس العمل کلادیوس به نمایش، جرم او را بطور حتم ثابت می‌کند. هملت پس از این ماجرا، بی درنگ پیش مادرش می‌رود و به زودی صدای نزاع مادر و پسر اوج می‌گیرد و هملت به مادرش اعتراف می‌کند که چقدر از وی متنفر است و وقتی سایه ای را در پردهٔ اتاق می‌بیند و چون تصور می‌کند که شاه درپشت پرده گوش ایستاده است، شمشیر را می‌کشد ودر پرده‌های سنگین فرو می‌برد، ولی پولونیوس (پدر اوفلیا) معشوقهٔ هملت – که در پشت پرده پنهان شده به جای کلادیوس به اشتباه کشته می‌شود. کلادیوس که تصمیم به نابودی هملت گرفته ولی نمی‌خواهد آنرا آشکار کند او را به انگلستان می‌فرستد. در این سفر دو دوست دوران تحصیل او به نام‌های روزن کرانتس و گیلد استرن نیز همراه هملت اعزام شده‌اند، اینان نامه‌هایی مبنی بر حکم قتل شاهزاده را با خود دارند اما با عوض شدن نامه‌ها به جای هملت این دو نفر کشته می‌شوند. دراین اوضاع لایریتس پسر پولونیوس برای انتقام پدر به دنبال هملت است هم چنین اوفلیا که از کشته شدن پدرش به دست محبوب از شدت غم و اندوه دیوانه شده، پس از آنکه چند گل از کرانه رود می‌چیند خود را در آب می‌افکند و غرق می‌شود. هملت پس ازاینکه متوجه توطئهٔ قتل خودش می‌شود به دانمارک برمی گردد. کلادیوس در ظاهر می خواهد هملت و لایریتس را آشتی دهد، به خواهش او هر دو موافقت می‌کنند که برای سنجیدن خود، نه در یک دوئل بلکه در مبارزه ای نمادین شرکت کنند تا به داستان غم‌انگیز پایان داده شود. اما به لایریتس شمشیری می‌دهند که نوکش به زهر کشنده آغشته است، در طول این مبارزهٔ تن به تن کلادیوس جامی زهرآلود به هملت می‌دهد، ولی گرترود بی‌خبر جام راسرمی کشد و می‌میرد. سپس هملت زخمی می‌شود، اما پیش از مرگ، لایریتس را زخمی کشنده می‌زند. هملت و لایریتس هر دو مجروح شده‌اند و می دانند که مرگشان حتمی است، پس در پایان هر دو بسوی کلادیوس حمله می‌برند و او را از پای درمی‌آورند.

" ذَلِكَ مِنْ أَنبَاء الْغَيْبِ نُوحِيهِ إِلَيْكَ وَمَا كُنتَ لَدَيْهِمْ إِذْ أَجْمَعُواْ أَمْرَهُم وَهُمْ يَمْكُرُونَ "

هاملت العزيز ، الذكي، الشجاع ، الجسور ، الحنون ، الغيور
حسناً ، أنا أحسد هاملت ، نعم ، أحسده من أعماق قلبي لانه لم يتورع ، لم يتأخر ولم يتنازل عن الأخذ بالثأر ، عن الانتقام لمن سرق منه احبائه ، لمن سلبه حقه في الاحساس بالحب والأمان .
صدّق شبحه ، ذاك الزائر العجيب ، ومشى ورائه ولكن بكل رزانة وخبث

" مجنون ، جنون البحر والريح حين يصطرعان ،
ليثبتا أيهما أشد بأساً "
مجنون ، وصف نعت به ولم ينكره بل حاول جاهداً التشبث به لينفذ خطته بدقة وحرص ويتمكن من فك أسر الحقيقة وإطلاق سراحها للعلن دون الخوف من عواقبها الأكيدة الحدوث.

أحسده ، على سيفه المسلول الذي أغمده في عمق المكر والخيانة في حين اني لم أمتلك ولو حتى سكيناً واحداً اتمكن فيه من تسديد ولو بضعة طعنات إلى ذلك الزاحف الأسود فيرتد على عقبيه . ويتركني وشأني ولو قليلاً ، بل بالعكس، أظهر نفسه امامي بكل وقاحة و أضحى يمشي ، متبختراً بنفسه ، بالإنجاز الذي كان يسحقني فيه كل دقيقة ، شامتاً مني ، بعجزي عن إدراكه وإيقافه .

مهما امتلكنا ، فليست كل الحروب نستطيع الفوز بها ، ولا كل الأعداء مرئيين ، ولا كل الأصدقاء .. أوفياء
هو انتصر ، اما انا ، فخسرت ، غابت شمسي ، وتكسرت اجنحتي ، واظلم عمري ، واصبحت ُ فتاةً من ورق هشة تخشى اي شيء ، كل شيء

https://ibb.co/0m46MMp

" إن رغباتنا كثيراً ما تتعارض وحظوظنا ،
فيفسد كل تدبير دبرناه وكل عزم اعتزمناه ،
واذا كانت أفكارنا من صنعنا فإن مصيرها ليس بأيدينا"
كنت قد بدأت لوم نفسي على تأخري في قراءة هاملت حتى الآن .
ولكن بعد انتهائي منها اكتشفت بأنني قرأتها في الوقت الصحيح تماماً من حياتي ، ولو اني قرائتها قبلاً لما وصلتني مشاعرها بهذا الصدق و الواقعية
لكن ، صحيح تماماً ، الكتب الكلاسيكية له توقيت محدد تدخل فيه حياتك ، وهي من تقرره وليس نحن

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?

... and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural
shocks
That flesh is heir to ...

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the
rub ... what dreams may come ...
Must give us pause:

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

Act III, Scene I

One of the most beautiful lines ever written:

Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.

It’s a cliché, I know, but Hamlet's Soliloquy in Act III Scene I is also a favourite:

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

hamlet you petulant brat ily

‎دوستانِ گرانقدر، بدونِ تردید بسیاری از شما با این اثرِ مشهور آشنایی دارید و یا آن را خوانده اید
‎در زیر چکیده ای بسیار مختصر از این نمایشنامه را برایتان مینویسم
*************************
‎عزیزانم، <هملت> پسرِ پادشاه دانمارک است... پادشاه به دستِ برادرش (عمویِ هملت) به قتل میرسد و این برادرِ قاتل، تاج و تخت پادشاه را تصرف کرده و حتی با زنِ پادشاه، یعنی زن برادرش نیز ازدواج میکند
‎از همین روی <هملت> پس از دودلی و تردیدِ بسیار برای انتقام و خونخواهیِ پدر، برمیخیزد
‎میتوان اینگونه تفسیر کرد که: <هملت> عاشقِ مادرِ خویش است و نسبت به عمویش که مادرش را تصاحب کرده است، حسادت میکند... <هملت> در اثرِ این عشق و حسدِ ناپسند و غیر متعارف، پریشان شده و احساسِ گناه میکند و به همین دلیل از تصمیمی که برایِ انتقام گرفته بود، منصرف شده و از این انتقام جوئی فرو میماند
‎برخی از پژوهشگران و روانشناسان معتقد هستند که: نمایشنامهٔ <هملت> انعکاسِ شخصیتِ " ادوارد دو ور" میباشد که احتمالاً همان <شکسپیر> حقیقی است
‎پدرِ "ادوارد دو ور" در زمانِ کودکیِ او میمیرد و مادرش سریع با مردِ دیگری ازدواج میکند.. به همین دلیل او با مادرش به جنگ و ستیز میپردازد
------------------------------------------------
‎امیدوارم از خواندنِ این اثرِ هنری لذت ببرید
‎<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>

When a play is considered the best ever written by the greatest author in history, well a serious reader ( maybe not too serious) must take a look and see, I for sure was not disappointed, a marvelous written view of human nature the good and the bad. Hamlet is a kindly man, and longtime student (over ten years not too dedicated it seems), at the University of Wittenberg,Germany . But his carefree life is destroyed, when his father dies suddenly. Having the misfortune to be a Prince of Denmark, he just wanted to have fun...Duty demands, going back to the royal palace at Elsinore immediately, the royal castle overlooking the
cold Baltic Sea, which controls its entrance. The new King, his uncle has married Hamlet's mother the Queen! And thus gaining the throne, just a month after the King's funeral quite shamelessly thinks Hamlet.The ruler was an elective office then so the Prince is still the Prince not the King. More shocking still, the ghost of the late sovereign appears (or the devil), above the walls of the castle in the depth of night and tells his son that he was murdered, can you imagine how his son reacts in the darkness in the creepy setting . By his own brother, what a situation for poor Hamlet to be and his mother involved too, the family honor demand revenge however the family are the killers...Others, the royal guards witness this frightening episode.The father wants satisfaction you can guess what... And you think you have problems! What will Hamlet do. The Prince becomes very melancholic, procrastinating, condemning himself for his weakness, relatives and friends become concerned about the behavior, is Hamlet insane? Telling Ophelia his sweetheart, he loves her, nevertheless later to her face to become a nun. She the daughter of Polonius a counselor to Claudius, the new ruler such a quandary. Spying for Claudius, Polonius is slain by the Prince who kills the wrong man. Who mistakes him hiding behind a curtain, for the odorous King. Claudius plots with the help of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two former school friends of his nephew , an inept pair of halfwits. To eliminate Hamlet, he has been making threats against his uncle.A long voyage to England with the evil two, which the Prince, will never return home.Sounds good to Hamlet, he needs to get away from the vile machinations. Besides Ophelia's brother will come back soon to Denmark and he wants blood. And on the horizon possible war against Norway , also becomes a very real possibility.Time to get out of town of course.But he does come back, mysteriously alone you need not wonder how. The first thing the Prince sees is the digging in a graveyard, with friend Horatio by his side.The skull of Yorick his father's jester is uncovered, Hamlet remembers him. Holding the clown's head in his hands he tells Horatio and the gravedigger how Yorick used to carry him on his back, the pathos flow out over the site unashamedly . Making jests to everyone he met Yorick was a merry man but no more.Sadly no more...."The Rest is Silence". A beautiful end to an unmatched skillful product of human endeavors.

I’ve always meant to talk to my mate George about Hamlet and I guess this is as good an opportunity to do so as any.

There are different things I would say to different people about Hamlet – and as this is the near perfect play I guess there ought to be many and various things one could say about it.

The oddest thing about Hamlet is that people always tend to say the same thing – they always say, “Oh yes, Hamlet, the man who hesitates”. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t believe in capital punishment, but I do think that corporal punishment is much maligned and if one does not deserve a slap for saying Hamlet hesitates, it is hard to see what one should be slapped for at all.

Aristotle was a top bloke, one of my favourites. In his poetics he says what he thinks makes a good tragedy. The first thing is that you needed a fall from grace. It is hardly a tragedy if the tragic figure is already at the bottom of the heap. There has got to be a fall or there really is no tragedy. So, tragedies are about kings and such – not (excuse my French, but I’ve just finished reading Simenon) ‘shit kickers’. Miller’s Death of a Salesman is famous as a modern tragedy, not least as it breaks this Aristotelian requirement for the tragic figure to be from the upper classes.

Aristotle then thought that if the play was going to work as a tragedy the person about to undergo a tragic fall should have some flaw that was pretty ‘human’ and therefore something that would make sense to the audience. The feeling the writer of a tragic play wants to convey to his audience is pretty much, ‘there but for the grace of god go I’. The flaw needs to be fairly easy to identify – pride, for example, or lust – something easy to spot and it needs to be the reason for the downfall.

Well, Hamlet is the Prince of Denmark, so he has a long way to fall. But just what is his tragic flaw? And this is where so many rush in and say, “He hesitates.” But I beg to differ.

I think Hamlet is an enlightenment figure in an age only just (and even then, not quite) casting off the last remnants of the dark ages – and Shakespeare is an enlightenment figure doing much the same. It is important to remember that Shakespeare is writing at a time when King James is king. James was a very interesting King – not simply because he was homosexual and spent a lot of time chasing young men around the castle. But for me the most illuminating story of him – and he is mostly remembered for the Bible that bears his name – is to do with his new bride’s little trip over from Norway. On her way to England a storm blow up and made her crossing incredibly dangerous and frightening. James was not impressed. He decided that the storm was caused by the ill-will of local witches (as one does) – so a goodly number of old women were gathered together and killed for daring to cause such an irritation for his new bride. Like I said, the Enlightenment hasn’t quite taken hold, but we are getting there.

In my view the people who say that Hamlet hesitates are dark age types. What happens in the story? Hamlet is called by his best friend to see his father’s ghost wandering around at night – his father’s ghost tells him that he has been killed by Hamlet’s uncle and that Hamlet should kill his uncle in revenge. In the dark ages this would have been enough.

However, Hamlet decides to test what the ghost has told him by putting on a play in which the circumstances of the murder are acted out in front of his uncle to see if he gives himself away – he does and Hamlet almost immediately tries to kill him (deciding against it on religious grounds the first opportunity that arises – interestingly) and then mistakenly kills the Prime Minister about five minutes later.

So, does he hesitate? Well, yes. But only in the sense that trying to confirm the advice presented by a ghost before killing your uncle is a bad idea. The fact that pausing is anything but reasonable after the enlightenment should give us pause to think (which is about all that Hamlet does – hardly a ‘tragic flaw’).

I love this play – I think it is one of the greatest things ever written in our language. I love the way Shakespeare plays with Hamlet’s madness and compares and contrasts with Ophelia’s true (and horrific) madness. Imagine your lover killing your father – what a complete nightmare. I’ve never understood why there is no such thing as an Ophelia complex. Not least as it would seem to me that many women must feel that being with their husband / lover must feel like killing off their family.

There is so much in this play to talk about – it is truly endless. That people go on and on about it being about hesitation really is saying just about the dullest thing about it. Hamlet is playing with forces greater than himself – he is trying to understand those forces, as he is a thoughtful, rational person, but sometimes we are too close to what is going on in our lives to really get to see – even if we are incredibly clever. Sometimes only those outside can see and understand. There are some interesting Oedipal themes going on here too.

The only thing that bothers me about this play is that at the end everyone ends up dead – I mean, if it wasn’t for Hamlet, even Horatio would have snuffed it. I’m not sure that really is the most satisfying end to a play – where the only way things can go on is for everyone affected to be dead. Lear is much the same, but worse in so many ways. Death always seems the easy way out in these things – the real tragedy of human existence isn’t death, but being forced to live on. As Oedipus must go on, even after plucking his own eyes out. Ah, but you know what those bloody Greeks are like, George. ‘Unrelenting’ is the word I’m struggling for.

Isn't it always a delight to delve into one of Shakespeare's world-famous plays?

Like many others, I had been forced to read Shakespeare in school (Romeo & Juliet, as in my case), and unfamiliar with all the important literary classics as I was back then, I had a lot of troubles with the rather outmoded language. After finally finishing that play, not only was I relieved to have conquered it successfully, no, it had also raised my interest for other Shakespearian plays. Macbeth, Julius Caesar, A Midsummer Night's Dream - all of them are fantastic plays and an intriguing choice to spend some hours with. But none of them left me as enthralled, shocked and intrigued as Hamlet did.

Everyone is probably familiar with the basic storyline of Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark, and his story of revenge. You may call into question Hamlet's intelligence in the performance of his revenge, but this does not erase the way Shakespeare has so beautifully written one of his most well-known plays to engage readers of the original text as well as viewers of the stage performances alike. The play has been discussed and analyzed so many times already that it probably does not need yet another review, especially since I don't consider myself to be in the position to elaborately judge or even criticize the sophisticated language or the engaging storyline.

I'd recommend this tale to everyone, even (or especially) if you don't know Shakespeare yet or don't want to read anything else by him due to negative experiences with his other plays. Hamlet may be called a classic thriller in its essence, but it is also an exploration on themes like humanity or the worth of whether revenge as a reaction to certain deeds is truly appropriate. Read and judge it for yourself, but read it. Until now, I have been reading Shakespeare's plays mostly because I thought everyone has to at some point, but Hamlet turned out to be a compelling reading journey, even if you are already familiar with the basic concept of the story.

As this is a reread, and I can't remember now how many times I have read Hamlet, I could just silently move on to other reading.

But then I thought that I would like to bow to Horatio - the storyteller, the last man standing to tell the tale. Each time I read Hamlet, something else catches my unruly imagination. Setting out to find traces of systematic madness versus other madness (which in my world is what we call reality), I was sidetracked again and again by the brilliant sidekicks of the main actors. Yorick, the man of infinite jest, whose skull is such a wonderful costume prop and artistic motive, is well worth his own book title. And he got it. The gravedigger, who digs himself deeper and deeper into the pun of lying, he deserves another review. But most of all, it is to Horatio that I bow this time. For he makes tragedy of the confusing deeds in the rotten state of Denmark.

He lives to tell the tale. So Horatio, this one's to you! Cheers, you mourning madmen. In England they wouldn't be able to tell you apart from other people. They're all mad there, you know. Same goes for Sweden. The rot has spread, and there are tales to tell everywhere.

There is something wrong in the state of humanity. And storytellers know how to ease the pain.

Laurence Olivier and Mel Gibson work for me. Two more different princes you couldn't make up. One is a prince from the word go. The next has to struggle to become one. No wonder so many actors dream of playing Hamlet. He's got the best lines and is on stage the longest. Not like the ghost. A minor role. Barely worth auditioning for. They obscure your face or leave you in the shadows. But the ghost is what the play pivots on. It is the ice which a hockey player leaps on and defies is not air to fly after that puck until the crowd shouts "goal" and the organ plays the six notes before it roars "CHARGE!"

But, you say, "Hamlet doesn't charge, he dithers. That's why the play takes hours. Besides, ghosts aren't real." To which I say "Do you believe everything you hear?

Shakespeare raises this question and makes it timeless. That is why, besides the beauty of the writing, this play should be read.

There is something rotten in the state of Denmark...

I like the way that pretty much everybody is dead by the end of the play. The political and personal entanglements are so tightly interwoven that nobody can survive.

As is probably not unusual I went along to the local theatre with the whole of the year group taking English Literature to see the play when the line was spoken that Hamlet would be sent to England and since everybody there was mad anyway he'd fit in unrecognised, the theatre audience much to my surprise erupted in laughter, which I felt demonstrated the truth of the play's proposition.