Blog #21: Hamlet Act 1 Blog

Written as Hamlet, thinking about his family.

I am sick, nauseated, revolted. Disgust is too mild a word for my family. I was in Wittenberg with my friends when I learned of my father’s death. And with a heavy heart, I came home. Claudius seemed sad during the funeral for his brother. “the funeral bak’d meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables” (1.2.180-181). Damn him! Can he not even let me grieve for my father before he marries his widow! My magnificent father, “So excellent a king; that was, to this Hyperion to a satyr…” (1.2.139-140). But my uncle, or I suppose now my, step-father, “my cousin Hamlet, and my son, -- A little more than kin, and less than kind!” (1.2.64-65) indeed! Is he even human? How can he turn from mourning to joy so quickly? That man is many things, but he is not my father.

And mother, “within a month” (1.2.153)! Did you even love Hamlet? How can you turn about and marry another man so quickly! Did you trade your black veil for a white one whilst walking there? “within a month” (1.2.153)! I don’t understand: are you weak or cruel? Did you never care for my father at all or were you too weak to resist Claudius? “Frailty, thy name is woman!” (1.2.146).

And why am I the only one to notice how wrong this whole affair is? The forced smiles in court were even more forced than usual. But still, no matter how hard Claudius tries to hide it, he can’t hide it. If one slathers paint on a corpse, one can still smell the rot. Truly, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” (1.4.90).

When the funeral for is still warm for the wedding, something is wrong. #Cold

My father was ten, no a hundred, times the man Claudius is. #Parents

How can you may someone so quickly after my father dies? #LoveisDead

Mother, you are so weak to give in to Claudius. #Frailty

There is something so, so wrong about this entire affair. #Rot