As the summer season of the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City draws to a close, I have to say that I was thrilled with the plays I was able to catch on
my vacation. I loved the Merry Wives of Windsor. This comedy is one of Shakespeare’s superior ones, in my opinion. I found it down to earth, and the games and attempted deception plausible and laughable, rather than strange and disturbing as they can be. In the end, Falstaff gets what he deserves and is sad because of it, but the ending doesn’t turn into a nasty cruel and unredeemable punishment on him as some of the other comedies punish their pro/antagonists, and he is almost back to his old self, though a bit humbler. Mistresses Ford and Page were so likeable, and their plots so simple, that I couldn’t help but be entertained. And in the end, Miss Page finds true love. What could be better?
Hamlet was amazing. It is more of a thinking play, a wordy play, than tragedies the festival has recently put on such as Dr. Faustus or Richard III (which was sometimes published as a tragedy). Richard III is riddled with juicy murders throughout, while Dr. Faustus presents the allurement of metaphysical knowledge. In contrast, Hamlet is of the unraveling, the non-creation. He is bypassed for the crown, his romance with Ophelia goes sour, noble people die, school boys perish, and the whole kingdom goes “rotten.”
A month or so ago I posted Psalm 8 here because I was captivated by the beauty of it and the deep question it asks. As I watched Hamlet from my gallery seat, I became very excited about listening to his soliloquies in light of that psalm. While putting on a little show for the insincere Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Act II scene ii, he says sarcastically,
And continues,What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving howexpress and admirable! in action how like an
angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world!
the paragon of animals!
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights notme.This is the turning of the psalmist’s words:
When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars,While the psalmist’s words are those of creation, of support and strength of oneself that glorifies the God who gives fear and torment to his enemies, Hamlet’s are those that tear down, that see in humankind and himself vileness and falsehood. His enemies are the ones seeking pardons from God, and in Act I Hamlet himself cries out to God only in response to condemning the word and expressing his suicidal inclinations,
which thou hast ordained;
What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the
son of man, that thou visitest him?
For thou hast made him a little
lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.
O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely.
What a wonderful contrast in human emotion. On the one hand, there’s total elation. On the other, complete desolation. Yes, Hamlet is a reckoning of they way things go on this earth, that things become broken down, dissipate into useless forms of energy, and “grow to seed.” To Hamlet, it is a universe without meaning repeating this cycle of decay. It’s thrilling in its existentialism as much as Psalm 8 is in its affirmation of a meaningful existence.




