In the last post I gave a brief synopsis of the play. Now I would like to begin addressing its importance for us.
In many respects, Prince Hamlet is the most human character I have ever encountered in literature. Although of royal lineage, he is in many respects an everyman who is called upon to respond to a world I think he would prefer to ignore; just as we have little choice in our engagement with the world as we mature, neither does Hamlet.
Although the play begins less than two months after the death of his father, there is much to suggest Hamlet had a rather idealized, innocent life prior to that traumatic event. We can infer this from the shock and despair permeating his first soliloquy in which the melancholy Dane says, “O that this too too solid flesh would melt/ Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!" “In other words, he wishes he were dead. But his disaffection and disappointment with the world goes deeper: “Or that the Everlasting had not fixed / His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter!” In fact, he wishes it were not against God’s law to kill himself. Here is a young man, reacting with despair to two events: his father’s unexpected death and his mother’s hasty marriage to his uncle, a man young Hamlet sees as vastly inferior to his father. Both events have shaken his faith in the world and in human nature, leading the Prince to see the world no longer as Eden-like, but as “an unweeded garden/ That grows to seed, things rank and gross in nature/ Possess it merely.”
Perhaps the most painful revelation for Hamlet is the fact that his parents’ marriage was not the utopian union he had imagined: “Why, she would hang on him/ As if increase of appetite had grown/ By what it fed on and yet, within a month - …married with my uncle/ My father’s brother … O most wicked speed: to post/ With such dexterity to incestuous sheets…” So there we have it, revelations of unpalatable realities: love that was a sham and a hasty and incestuous remarriage.
If we were to view this part of the play allegorically, we could see it as the beginning of the transition from childhood to adulthood. The world poses challenges to all of us in its imperfections. How we respond to those imperfections is ultimately a measure of our character. Do we turn our backs on them and seek oblivion in one form or another? Or do we confront the challenges and engage with the world? That is Hamlet’s challenge, and it is also ours.
While this brief examination of an important idea hardly does justice to the theme, I hope it gives you at least a hint of how it resonates with the human condition. In my next post, I will continue discussing this and related themes of the play.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Great Books and What They Have To Teach Us – Hamlet – Part 1
The following post is much briefer than I had originally intended, the reason being that I love the play so much that I want to take extra care in writing about it
Every semester that I taught a senior English class, I made certain to leave one book to the end, Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It wasn’t that I dreaded teaching the play – quite the opposite. But my enthusiasm for the work meant that if I taught it at any other point, I would spend far too long on it. It is that rich a tragedy.
Very briefly, the plot of Hamlet revolves around the assertion by a ghost that he is the spirit of the late King Hamlet. He reveals to King Hamlet’s son, Prince Hamlet, that he was murdered by Claudius, the King’s brother, the man who has now claimed the throne and married the late Hamlet’s widow, Gertrude. Additionally, the ghost suggests that Claudius and Gertrude were carrying on a relationship while the king was still alive. His purpose in appearing to Prince Hamlet? He asks the lad to avenge his murder. The rest of the play revolves around the prince determining if the spirit’s story is true, and the impact on him of discovering the truth.
While the plot sounds simple, it is considered by many to be Shakespeare’s most complex play, and that complexity is found in both its themes and its imagery. But what has any of this got to do with today’s readers and audiences? Well, just like Macbeth, it has much to teach us, both as individuals and as a society. In my next post I'll begin to talk about its value.
Every semester that I taught a senior English class, I made certain to leave one book to the end, Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It wasn’t that I dreaded teaching the play – quite the opposite. But my enthusiasm for the work meant that if I taught it at any other point, I would spend far too long on it. It is that rich a tragedy.
Very briefly, the plot of Hamlet revolves around the assertion by a ghost that he is the spirit of the late King Hamlet. He reveals to King Hamlet’s son, Prince Hamlet, that he was murdered by Claudius, the King’s brother, the man who has now claimed the throne and married the late Hamlet’s widow, Gertrude. Additionally, the ghost suggests that Claudius and Gertrude were carrying on a relationship while the king was still alive. His purpose in appearing to Prince Hamlet? He asks the lad to avenge his murder. The rest of the play revolves around the prince determining if the spirit’s story is true, and the impact on him of discovering the truth.
While the plot sounds simple, it is considered by many to be Shakespeare’s most complex play, and that complexity is found in both its themes and its imagery. But what has any of this got to do with today’s readers and audiences? Well, just like Macbeth, it has much to teach us, both as individuals and as a society. In my next post I'll begin to talk about its value.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Great Books and What They Have To Teach Us – Macbeth
For the next few posts, I’d like to address something that I think is undervalued in our society and our school systems today: literature. I have already touched upon how it can help to cultivate critical thinking, but now, at the risk of sounding somewhat airy, I’d like to talk about how it can also cultivate the spirit and teach us important things about human nature. These aspects perhaps are not taken as seriously today when put against some of the ‘hard skills’ taught through public education, but, I would argue, are essential in order to live fully and meaningfully.
I was never one of those teachers who stand in awe of everything written by Shakespeare, (let’s face it, Romeo and Juliet really are just a couple of very immature teenagers who make some very bad decisions), but I never tired of teaching certain of his works, including his darkest, Macbeth. Set around the eleventh century, ‘the Scottish play’ has no end of relevance for our own times. Revolving around a military commander of great prowess and courage, the play tells the story of what happens when you start believing your own press. Praised by his King and colleagues, emboldened by the prophecies of some witches, and encouraged by a seemingly amoral wife, Macbeth gives in to his hidden ambition, setting down a dark road that will see him kill that King, assume the throne, and embark on a bloody reign of terror that will take many innocent lives and cost him everything: his virtue, his humanity, and ultimately his life.
So what does such a tragedy have to teach modern audiences? For me, it always put in stark relief the essential emptiness of pursuing purely material goals; even though we live in times that try to convince us that the key to happiness is “the next big thing,” be it the latest cell phone, plasma T.V. or ______________ (you fill in the blank), experience teaches us that we are doomed to be continually disappointed by such pursuits. Macbeth, however, learns this truth far too late for it to do him any good. We see him early in the play contemplating assassinating Duncan, both his King and his cousin; he asserts that if he could be guaranteed success in this venture, “We’d jump the life to come.” This willingness to sacrifice his very salvation for the acquisition of power is contrasted much later in the play when he admits, “…my way of life/ Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf,/ And that which should accompany old age,/ As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,/ I must not look to have; but in their stead,/Curses, not loud but deep, mouth honor, breath,/ Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.” In this quotation, Macbeth realizes that the achievement of his ambition has not been worth the price he has had to pay, the complete absence of all the indicators of a life well-lived: integrity, love, respect, friendship. All he has instead is those who obey him out of fear.
A chilling lesson, both for Shakespeare’s time and all others.
I was never one of those teachers who stand in awe of everything written by Shakespeare, (let’s face it, Romeo and Juliet really are just a couple of very immature teenagers who make some very bad decisions), but I never tired of teaching certain of his works, including his darkest, Macbeth. Set around the eleventh century, ‘the Scottish play’ has no end of relevance for our own times. Revolving around a military commander of great prowess and courage, the play tells the story of what happens when you start believing your own press. Praised by his King and colleagues, emboldened by the prophecies of some witches, and encouraged by a seemingly amoral wife, Macbeth gives in to his hidden ambition, setting down a dark road that will see him kill that King, assume the throne, and embark on a bloody reign of terror that will take many innocent lives and cost him everything: his virtue, his humanity, and ultimately his life.
So what does such a tragedy have to teach modern audiences? For me, it always put in stark relief the essential emptiness of pursuing purely material goals; even though we live in times that try to convince us that the key to happiness is “the next big thing,” be it the latest cell phone, plasma T.V. or ______________ (you fill in the blank), experience teaches us that we are doomed to be continually disappointed by such pursuits. Macbeth, however, learns this truth far too late for it to do him any good. We see him early in the play contemplating assassinating Duncan, both his King and his cousin; he asserts that if he could be guaranteed success in this venture, “We’d jump the life to come.” This willingness to sacrifice his very salvation for the acquisition of power is contrasted much later in the play when he admits, “…my way of life/ Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf,/ And that which should accompany old age,/ As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,/ I must not look to have; but in their stead,/Curses, not loud but deep, mouth honor, breath,/ Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.” In this quotation, Macbeth realizes that the achievement of his ambition has not been worth the price he has had to pay, the complete absence of all the indicators of a life well-lived: integrity, love, respect, friendship. All he has instead is those who obey him out of fear.
A chilling lesson, both for Shakespeare’s time and all others.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Critical Thinking - Considering Alternate Views
One of the keys to being a critical thinker is the willingness to consider alternate points of view instead of being wedded to one idelogical position. In order to sharpen my own thinking and expose myself to perspectives other than those advanced in mainstream media, I have always enjoyed the work of Canadian writer Linda McQuaig. What follows is my review of her latest book.
Holding the Bully’s Coat – Linda McQuaig
Whether holding forth on the global economy, the excesses of capitalism, government deficits or the U.S. invasion of Iraq, author Linda McQuaig never disappoints. Her willingness to challenge conventional wisdom, especially that which is promulgated in the mainstream media, is always guaranteed to provide the reader with new insights and rich material to allow him or her to critically examine previously-held beliefs. Whether or not one agrees with the things she asserts, this is her greatest strength as a writer.
Her latest book, Holding the Bully’s Coat, reflects this strength as she examines in both an historical and contemporary context, Canada’s relationship with the United States. She argues that by aligning the country too closely with the policies of the United States, our political, military, and economic elites are sacrificing Canada’s international reputation (one she acknowledges as being exaggerated) and our role as a middle power, as well as jeopardizing our independence as a nation.
McQuaig deals with a number of issues that will have occurred to thinking Canadians over the years, including how our reputation for peacekeeping and compromise is being unjustly denigrated by the right wing; how the United States’ penchant for exceptionalism has essentially made it a law unto itself as it chooses to flout international law, the United Nations, the World Court, the Geneva Conventions’ prohibition on torture, and any other potential restriction on its dominance; the destabilizing effect of the U.S. opposition to nuclear disarmament; and its military’s refusal to abandon Cold War thinking, having simply substituted Islamic extremism for “the Red Menace.”
While the above description may make this book sound like an anti-American rant, it is not. Rather, McQuaig shows, through copious examples and careful analysis, how the citizens of both Canada and the United States are being ill-served by those in power who are quite willing to mislead and manipulate their respective peoples. Indeed, some of her harshest criticism is reserved for the Canadian government, both the current Conservative one and the previous Liberal one, and its often uncritical deference to American policies of very questionable merit.
The book will be offensive to those who think the motives and policies of the United States (and Canada, for that matter) should never be questioned. It will, however, be appreciated by those who want to go beyond media rhetoric and think deeply about issues of importance. It will also appeal to those humble enough never to have subscribed to the jingoistic notion, “My country, right or wrong,” a very dangerous mantra for the people of any free society to adopt.
Holding the Bully’s Coat – Linda McQuaig
Whether holding forth on the global economy, the excesses of capitalism, government deficits or the U.S. invasion of Iraq, author Linda McQuaig never disappoints. Her willingness to challenge conventional wisdom, especially that which is promulgated in the mainstream media, is always guaranteed to provide the reader with new insights and rich material to allow him or her to critically examine previously-held beliefs. Whether or not one agrees with the things she asserts, this is her greatest strength as a writer.
Her latest book, Holding the Bully’s Coat, reflects this strength as she examines in both an historical and contemporary context, Canada’s relationship with the United States. She argues that by aligning the country too closely with the policies of the United States, our political, military, and economic elites are sacrificing Canada’s international reputation (one she acknowledges as being exaggerated) and our role as a middle power, as well as jeopardizing our independence as a nation.
McQuaig deals with a number of issues that will have occurred to thinking Canadians over the years, including how our reputation for peacekeeping and compromise is being unjustly denigrated by the right wing; how the United States’ penchant for exceptionalism has essentially made it a law unto itself as it chooses to flout international law, the United Nations, the World Court, the Geneva Conventions’ prohibition on torture, and any other potential restriction on its dominance; the destabilizing effect of the U.S. opposition to nuclear disarmament; and its military’s refusal to abandon Cold War thinking, having simply substituted Islamic extremism for “the Red Menace.”
While the above description may make this book sound like an anti-American rant, it is not. Rather, McQuaig shows, through copious examples and careful analysis, how the citizens of both Canada and the United States are being ill-served by those in power who are quite willing to mislead and manipulate their respective peoples. Indeed, some of her harshest criticism is reserved for the Canadian government, both the current Conservative one and the previous Liberal one, and its often uncritical deference to American policies of very questionable merit.
The book will be offensive to those who think the motives and policies of the United States (and Canada, for that matter) should never be questioned. It will, however, be appreciated by those who want to go beyond media rhetoric and think deeply about issues of importance. It will also appeal to those humble enough never to have subscribed to the jingoistic notion, “My country, right or wrong,” a very dangerous mantra for the people of any free society to adopt.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Transforming Education – The Mantle of Leadership- Part 6
I was discussing earlier the role that literature can play in cultivating critical thinking. One of the most important means by which this goal can ultimately be achieved is through exposure to a variety of viewpoints, an area in which literature truly excels.
One of my favorite playwrights to teach was Arthur Miller. A man of integrity, blacklisted for his refusal to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee which had its heyday in the McCarthy Era, Miller wrote, amongst many other works, The Crucible. The play, inspired by the madness of McCarthyism, revolves around the Salem witch hunts of 1692. A powerful piece of literature for any era, it addresses what happens when a society, gripped by hysteria, abandons logic and common sense and turns on its fellow citizens. The worst aspects of human nature emerge as the play progresses: jealousy; lust; greed; self-preservation at any cost. In the midst of the quagmire stands John Proctor, a man who, despite his high standing within the Puritan community, is deeply flawed, having secretly committed adultery with an adolescent servant, Abigail. From his religious perspective, he is condemned in the eyes of God, yet, after enduring a lengthy crucible (one of the word’s meanings is ‘a severe or trying test’) he is able to find “his goodness,” what we today would call his integrity, by refusing to lie in order to save himself from hanging after having been falsely accused and convicted of witchcraft.
One of the many benefits of teaching this play is that it affords students the opportunity to explore the concept of integrity, for some quite a novel notion. As a class, we would examine how Proctor ultimately places the needs of his community above his own interests. By refusing to falsely confess to witchcraft, a confession that would save his life, he takes a stand against the injustice of the witch hunts. The point is made in the play that because he has standing and reputation in the community, he accepts his responsibility to that community by refusing to further the evil, even if it means he must pay the ultimate price.
Predictably, some students saw his sacrifice as a meaningless gesture, while others appreciated it as a rich symbolic act. Again, the purpose of the discussion was not to convince students of anything, just to expose them to a concept and discuss it accordingly.
I like to think that it at least provided an alternative view to the very utilitarian times in which we live.
One of my favorite playwrights to teach was Arthur Miller. A man of integrity, blacklisted for his refusal to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee which had its heyday in the McCarthy Era, Miller wrote, amongst many other works, The Crucible. The play, inspired by the madness of McCarthyism, revolves around the Salem witch hunts of 1692. A powerful piece of literature for any era, it addresses what happens when a society, gripped by hysteria, abandons logic and common sense and turns on its fellow citizens. The worst aspects of human nature emerge as the play progresses: jealousy; lust; greed; self-preservation at any cost. In the midst of the quagmire stands John Proctor, a man who, despite his high standing within the Puritan community, is deeply flawed, having secretly committed adultery with an adolescent servant, Abigail. From his religious perspective, he is condemned in the eyes of God, yet, after enduring a lengthy crucible (one of the word’s meanings is ‘a severe or trying test’) he is able to find “his goodness,” what we today would call his integrity, by refusing to lie in order to save himself from hanging after having been falsely accused and convicted of witchcraft.
One of the many benefits of teaching this play is that it affords students the opportunity to explore the concept of integrity, for some quite a novel notion. As a class, we would examine how Proctor ultimately places the needs of his community above his own interests. By refusing to falsely confess to witchcraft, a confession that would save his life, he takes a stand against the injustice of the witch hunts. The point is made in the play that because he has standing and reputation in the community, he accepts his responsibility to that community by refusing to further the evil, even if it means he must pay the ultimate price.
Predictably, some students saw his sacrifice as a meaningless gesture, while others appreciated it as a rich symbolic act. Again, the purpose of the discussion was not to convince students of anything, just to expose them to a concept and discuss it accordingly.
I like to think that it at least provided an alternative view to the very utilitarian times in which we live.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Critical Thinking – The Mantle of Leadership – Part 5
Just a brief posting for the time being. Pursuant to the theme of my last several posts, I am providing a link to a Newsweek article that traces and exposes the tactics of global warming deniers. The article is a timely reminder of how important it is to think critically about issues.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
The Power of Literature - The Mantle of Leadership - Part4
Continuing with the theme of transforming education to produce more informed, critically aware democratic participants who will ultimately be able to demand the kind of political leadership they deserve, today I would like to talk about the role that literature, taught through high school English classes, can play in achieving this goal.
For me, literature only succeeds when it engages both our hearts and our minds. Arid tracts that advance philosophical positions devoid of flesh, blood and passion are of no use to anyone, in my view. Fortunately, there is a wealth of good literature that can engage us totally.
Now, before proceeding, I should address something that may have occurred to you. Am I suggesting here that the classroom should be used as some sort of ideological platform? The answer is an unequivocal no. What I am suggesting is that it should be used to teach people that there are a number of sides to an issue, that there is no absolute truth, and that it is incumbent upon individuals to think deeply and critically about issues of import and try, as much as is humanly possible, not to succumb to preconceived ideological positions. That, of course, is easier said than done, but it is an absolute requirement if we are ever to raise ourselves above the current base level of political discourse and leadership.
One other personal note I feel I must add before proceeding: I have never considered myself any kind of a political radical; I believe there is some merit in most parts of the political spectrum, but the problem for me arises when a group, be it left or right (unfortunately, it seems today that the right has most of the media power) insists on the absolute correctness of their position to the exclusion of all others. It is this kind of polarizing philosophy that produces polarized people. If you, for example, insist that private business does everything better, I am as contemptuous of your position as I am of the one which insists that all important businesses should be nationalized. These kinds of extreme positions are, and should be, repugnant to the thinking person. With these provisos in mind, I will continue.
One illustration of literature that appeals to both the heart and the mind is the classic Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. Set in the ‘dirty thirties,’ the novel tells the story of dispossessed farmers, leaving behind the dustbowl conditions that have destroyed their livelihoods and traveling to California to begin life anew in a land they have been mislead to believe offers unlimited opportunity. During the course of the novel, which centers on the extended family of the Joads, these migrant workers are mercilessly exploited by selfish landowners. Profit is put before human health, welfare and dignity.
One of the things I used to do in teaching the novel in order to cultivate critical thinking was to ask if Steinbeck was being fair in his portrayal of the wealthy in the novel. Of course, the answer is no, as he only presents one side, the side used to elicit sympathy for his protagonists; we would discuss how almost all writing is manipulative, inasmuch as the author writes with a bias. This is true of both fiction and non-fiction. We then looked at some of Steinbeck’s techniques in creating that bias. This in no way undermined the power of the book, but it did serve as a useful lesson in how the reader has to think and interpret everything he or she reads.
In my next post I would like to talk about some of the other materials I used in this pursuit.
For me, literature only succeeds when it engages both our hearts and our minds. Arid tracts that advance philosophical positions devoid of flesh, blood and passion are of no use to anyone, in my view. Fortunately, there is a wealth of good literature that can engage us totally.
Now, before proceeding, I should address something that may have occurred to you. Am I suggesting here that the classroom should be used as some sort of ideological platform? The answer is an unequivocal no. What I am suggesting is that it should be used to teach people that there are a number of sides to an issue, that there is no absolute truth, and that it is incumbent upon individuals to think deeply and critically about issues of import and try, as much as is humanly possible, not to succumb to preconceived ideological positions. That, of course, is easier said than done, but it is an absolute requirement if we are ever to raise ourselves above the current base level of political discourse and leadership.
One other personal note I feel I must add before proceeding: I have never considered myself any kind of a political radical; I believe there is some merit in most parts of the political spectrum, but the problem for me arises when a group, be it left or right (unfortunately, it seems today that the right has most of the media power) insists on the absolute correctness of their position to the exclusion of all others. It is this kind of polarizing philosophy that produces polarized people. If you, for example, insist that private business does everything better, I am as contemptuous of your position as I am of the one which insists that all important businesses should be nationalized. These kinds of extreme positions are, and should be, repugnant to the thinking person. With these provisos in mind, I will continue.
One illustration of literature that appeals to both the heart and the mind is the classic Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. Set in the ‘dirty thirties,’ the novel tells the story of dispossessed farmers, leaving behind the dustbowl conditions that have destroyed their livelihoods and traveling to California to begin life anew in a land they have been mislead to believe offers unlimited opportunity. During the course of the novel, which centers on the extended family of the Joads, these migrant workers are mercilessly exploited by selfish landowners. Profit is put before human health, welfare and dignity.
One of the things I used to do in teaching the novel in order to cultivate critical thinking was to ask if Steinbeck was being fair in his portrayal of the wealthy in the novel. Of course, the answer is no, as he only presents one side, the side used to elicit sympathy for his protagonists; we would discuss how almost all writing is manipulative, inasmuch as the author writes with a bias. This is true of both fiction and non-fiction. We then looked at some of Steinbeck’s techniques in creating that bias. This in no way undermined the power of the book, but it did serve as a useful lesson in how the reader has to think and interpret everything he or she reads.
In my next post I would like to talk about some of the other materials I used in this pursuit.
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