by Samuel Huang
Few facts are certain in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, whether in terms of its characters’ allegiances, the motivations behind their actions, and in a few cases, even the sanity of some characters. This ambiguity, aside from having several narrative implications, pertains heavily toward the play’s permeated theme of memory, synthesizing together a text which chiefly focuses on the idea of forgetfulness and the decay of the past. Indeed, in Hamlet the memories of individual characters regarding the events of the past are often mired in personal perspective. Absolute truth, or even a semblance of it, stands as an elusive concept for both the characters of Hamlet and its audience to grasp. This essay will examine how the mind can twist one’s memories of the past to adhere to certain beliefs, the intertwinement of memories and madness, and the process in which memories ultimately decay. References will be made to “Hamlet and the Myth of Memory” by James P. Hammersmith, and “’REMEMBER ME’: MEMORY AND ACTION IN HAMLET” by Michael Cameron Andrews for alternative perspectives to compare this essay with.
Bias and subjectivity define Hamlet’s memories of his father. In his recollections of his father, Hamlet views him more akin to a deity than a human being. This is evident even as early as in scene ii of Act 1, in which, during a monologue in which he contrasts Claudius and his father, he describes the latter as comparable to the mythical Titan Hyperion. Later in the scene, Hamlet bemoans his uncle to be “no more like my father / Than I to Hercules”, and in doing so, indirectly implies the scale of the gap he considers to be between him and his father (Shakespeare 1.2.152-53). In these examples, it can be seen that Hamlet’s descriptions of his father are, besides being vague and generally meaningless, also mostly based on fanciful speculation. Though never stating so outright, the play routinely implies that Hamlet’s illustrations of his father are grounded mostly on stories he’s been told and second-hand accounts, not personal familiarity. It can be reasoned that as time flows by, an individual’s recollection of their deceased loved ones will subtly begin to shift and morph. For someone in the case of Hamlet, who saw his father more from the perspective of a subject than a son even before their death, this human vulnerability is only to be expanded. This is seemingly affirmed by Hammersmith when he makes the assertion that The Ghost is a “dramatized memory [of Hamlet’s father], a past entity given present being” (598). Yet though he might agree with this observation regarding Hamlet’s memory of his father as being “dramatized”, Hammersmith’s position otherwise denies that Hamlet’s memory of his father is imperfect. Rather, he takes an oppositional view, claiming that Hamlet, by taking the Ghost’s request to be remembered “as the sole item in the book and volume of his brain,” manages to create what is, apart from the dramatization, essentially a perfect memory of his father’s image (598). The argument he posits is that “memory and purpose are functions of time”, in other words, that it is by the passage of time by which a memory is distorted and forgotten (598). But if “one’s sole action is to remember”, such as it is the case with Hamlet, then memory does not fade, and the issue of time therefore is lessened into “a non-problem” (Hammersmith 598).
Valid though these arguments may seem at first, on the assumption that Hamlet’s initial memory of his father was faultless from the start. Yet this is not the case. Indeed, as stated prior, Hamlet was unlikely to ever have known his father to much more than a superficial degree even before the man’s death. He may have retained the memory of his father in the sense of it not decaying after the man’s death, but this means little if that initial memory is, in of itself, more false than real. The falsehood of Hamlet’s preliminary recollection is made most prominently evident in Act 5, scene I, and can be found in the clear dichotomy between Hamlet’s vague remembrance of Old Hamlet versus the clear recollection he has of his other father figure in life: Yorick. When he discovers Yorick’s skull in a graveyard, Hamlet can recall specific details and traits about the man. He remembers the jester fondly as a “fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy” (Shakespeare 5.1.175). With his father, however, the prince can only speak of abstract attributes and qualities. Even then, all these traits only ever speak to how “excellent a king” Old Hamlet was, not how decent he was as a father (Shakespeare 1.2.139). Aside from being unable to specify any real, meaningful traits of Old Hamlet’s, the young Hamlet also never thinks of or mentions any past experiences he has shared with him, likely because of an inability to do so. This contrasts with Yorick, with whom Hamlet can specifically recall bonding with in a close, paternal-son manner various times, such as by riding “on his back a thousand times”, and even kissing them on the cheek a few occasions (Shakespeare 5.1.176).
Ironically, the reverence that Hamlet has for his father ultimately acts in contradiction of the request the latter makes in the form of the Ghost, for his son to “remember [him]” (Shakespeare 1.5.90). Though Hamlet does technically recall his father much throughout the first half of the play, his falsified perception of the man makes it so that the one he perceives is not truly his father, but instead an idol to be venerated–the true man and the idealized form sharing the same identity in face and name only. Though Yorick is only ever mentioned in a single passage in Act 5 and Old Hamlet is referenced abundantly across the play, it is the former that ends up truly being engraved in memory. The latter, meanwhile, becomes analogous to a symbolic amalgamation of virtues, which twists their memory and legacy as a father into one completely different. Let alone “not [being able to] look upon [Old Hamlet’s] like again”, young Hamlet likely never saw the true face of his father even before the man’s assassination (Shakespeare 1.2.187). Ultimately, Old Hamlet is posthumously given traits that only vaguely define and exaggerate his kingly side, while the memory of his true self is hidden away, known neither to his son nor the audience.
As bad as this distortion already is, even this abstract idol imagined in young Hamlet’s mind also fades away as the story continues. Though Old Hamlet and his ghost are the initial cruxes which drive the play’s narrative, they become more and more infrequently mentioned as it progresses, until eventually disappearing mid-way through. Along with his disappearance from the play, so too are his original requests to his son also forgotten. For one, as previously mentioned, Hamlet fails to truly adhere to his father’s desire to remember him, fancying instead an almost defied figure in their name only. For another, Hamlet also fails to enact vengeance in the manner the Ghost asked him to. In his first appearance to Hamlet, the Ghost only ever asks Hamlet to take revenge on Claudius. He never asks for Hamlet to embark upon the killing of anyone else, even specifically requesting that he not taint his mind by letting his “soul contrive / Against thy mother” (Shakespeare 1.5.85-86). As is known, Hamlet ends up wholly contradicting this request by pioneering the mass slaughter that culminates the end of the play. In committing this bloodbath, Hamlet personalizes his revenge beyond The Ghost’s demands. No longer are Hamlet’s thoughts “confined to avenging his father”, but instead, they stretch to encompass all the deeds that he views Claudius and the others involved in the play’s affair, as “merit[ing] destruction” for (Andrews 269). Andrews deems this bloodthirst of his, now driven more by angst and fury than righteous (or at least justifiable) desire to avenge, as a “savage… overstep” in what he was first ordered to do (265). Withdrawing from the climax of the play, it is also possible to return to Act 3, scene iv, to address several details which reveal Hamlet’s failure to recall. The first is the dubiety of the Ghost’s presence. Here, in which it should be noted that the Ghost makes its final chronological appearance, Queen Gertrude is unable to see the Ghost. She regards Hamlet as mad for conversing with “incorporeal air” and, when considering the circumstances of the scene, it is a plausible conclusion to derive that the Ghost which Hamlet sees here is not the being previously shown, but instead a conjuration of his mind (Shakespeare 3.4.114). The real Ghost has already disappeared from the play, its memory replaced by the vengeance and madness which has consumed Hamlet, and as stated above, it is never to return. Aside from the development with the ghost, there is also another development in this scene which gives evidence to the claim that Hamlet has fallen to madness. This occurs prior to Gertrude’s outcry and is his treatment of Polonius–both in his killing of Polonius, and his subsequent actions and statements after the act. Here, it is important to contextualize that Polonius’ killing was spontaneous, and in engaging in it, Hamlet was at first unaware of who he had killed. This is made evident by the fact that, when asked whether he knows of what he has just done by his mother, Hamlet responds “[n]ay, I know not”, instead questioning whether he had killed the King (3.4.24). Yet, as Andrews notes, in but “within a moment [Hamlet] will speak as if he believed Claudius was the hidden spy” all along (265): “[Uncovers the body of Polonius.] / Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell: / I took thee for thy better” (3.4.28-30). This response, which is “obviously at odds” with his prior statement of uncertainty, gives what is a thoughtless and unplanned action a “purposiveness proper to a revenger” (Andrews 265). Yet this purposiveness is, in the end, a second-hand addition, made to justify a plainly arbitrary action without any true intent in it. Moreover, in his statement of taking Polonius for Claudius, Hamlet also finds a “way of striking at his mother… he must not kill her,” but he can slight her in this way. This slight showcases Hamlet actively ignoring the Ghost’s request for him not to harm Gertrude, or at the very least, trying to maneuver loopholes to justify targeted spite towards his mother. As Andrews states, it is in this scene and in the young prince’s killing of Polonius that Shakespeare manages to “most forcefully emphasizes Hamlet’s failure to ‘remember’” (265).
Time is inextricably linked as a factor to Hamlet’s forgetfulness. As time passes by, people tend to forget of the memory of others, and Hamlet delays his actions for much of the play. Acknowledging this, it can be deduced that “forgetfulness… is clearly a factor in [Hamlet’s] delay” (Andrews 267). Ultimately, this stems from Hamlet’s fixation on his duty’s consequences. Instead of giving primary “focus… on his task, Hamlet looks beyond, to the unknowable future” (Andrews 263). It is, therefore, that Hamlet focuses not on the past, which can be seen as synonymous with memory, but the future, which “impinges on the present with compulsive force” (Andrews 263). For example, when he is given the opportunity to kill Claudius while the man is praying, Hamlet turns it down, hoping to instead find his uncle in a situation “[t]hat has no relish of salvation in’t” for them (3.3.92). Here he acts as if he has “world enough and time”, when in reality, “time is tightening to a noose… not to act with celerity may be not to act at all” (Andrews 265). Hamlet’s delaying in this case also reveals the depths of his anger, which, just like with his attempt to slight Gertrude, overturns even the decree given to him by the Ghost. After all, here Hamlet has been given a chance to enact what he has been requested by the Ghost, and he turns it down on the basis of his own seething fury rather than that of his father’s spirit. Ultimately, what constitutes true remembrance, “in the Ghost’s sense… [is an] “exclusive dedication” to the task of which it has bestowed him (Andrews 261). Yet, the action the Ghost demands is “more than Hamlet is capable of doing” for most of the play (Andrews 267). Even in the end, after killing Claudius and fulfilling the Ghost’s request, ones naturally questions whether he did the act more for his father’s memory, or to sate his own vengeance.
Memory comes full circle when, at the end of the play, as Hamlet has reached the height of his mania after completing his revenge and nearing his death, he makes the request for Horatio to “tell his story” (5.2.333). This mirrors the Ghost’s own request to be remembered, especially in that neither request will be fulfilled according to either of the Hamlets’ intentions. In order to remember Old Hamlet, the younger Hamlet must grossly alter and even create his own memory of the man, filling in his gaps of knowledge about him with self-created falsifications. Much in the same way, Horatio and those who remaining living will have to conjure his own memory of Prince Hamlet, for he knows not of his true nature nor identity–as neither does the audience, which is left to speculate on many of his actions in the latter portion of the play. Hammersmith attempts to reason that here, on the contrary of being forgotten, Hamlet may actually have his memory properly remembered. Hamlet and Horatio were good friends, and the latter knew the former to a far better degree than they ever did with Hamlet and his father. Horatio, moreover, was alongside Hamlet for much of the play’s duration, and so can be said to be well-aware of how to recollect the deceased prince’s memory. “In [Horatio’s] memory Hamlet lives… to be reported aright,” Hammersmith states (602). But when one reads further beyond this moment, it becomes apparent that odds are that this memory will not be so perfectly preserved. This is indicated in the fact that after he makes his request and dies, Hamlet’s memory is quickly violated by Prince Fortinbras. This happens when Fortinbras, after entering the throne room and witnessing the aftermath of the massacre with little context, declares that Hamlet will be brought “like a soldier to the stage, / For he was likely, had he been put on, / To have proved most royal”, and that his funeral will be accompanied by “soldiers’ music and the rite of war” (Shakespeare 5.2.380-383). Here, it is clear that Fortinbras has created a twisted version of Hamlet with no actual basis or knowledge of the latter, likely through projection of his own princely status, and in doing so, bastardized Hamlet’s memory. Horatio, meanwhile, makes no move to correct Fortinbras, and thus, one can assume that he lacks a true enough understanding of Hamlet to correct the foreign prince.
Yet, despite the narrative’s depiction of the bastardization of young Hamlet’s memory, there is an argument to be made that Hamlet, in a meta sense, admittedly does make a fair preservation of its titular protagonist. Hammersmith notes that the prince has managed to have himself memorialized simply by being the central lead character to a play which acts as a record of his legacy. It is a “testimony to his memory”, which allows him to “live in our mind’s eye and in our physical eye each time a player resurrects his ghost upon the stage” (Hammersmith 604). More yet, his stage is not an ordinary one, or even merely of some measure of renown, but is rather one of the greatest, if not arguably the greatest of all time. Indeed, Hamlet–both in the sense of the character and the play for which he is named–has managed to endure throughout centuries of literary evolution and scrutiny. It stands as the well-known work of the most well- known playwright of all history and has persisted till today to fascinate literary academics and influence pop culture. Just as it may be that Hamlet is a story which regards “memory, language, and the conquest of time in the significance of human action”, it also in of itself “is memory, language, and the significance of Hamlet’s action in the transcendence of time” (Hammersmith 603). By allowing Hamlet to exist in the play, featuring him as its protagonist, and even simply yet quite notably naming the play after him, “Shakespeare [forms his] own response to Prince Hamlet’s ‘remember me’,” permanently eternalizing him in the highest echelons of literature (Hammersmith 604). As similarly stated by Andrews, after the King has died and Hamlet has succeeded in his mission, he passes his memory down not only to Horatio, but also, “…to us”, the readers and audience (269). True though it may be that the assertion was made earlier that not even the audience knows the truth of Hamlet’s character, it can be said that this is largely applicable to most other characters in the play, as well. And, even if his internal intentions and reasons may sometimes be mysterious and indecipherable, it may be admitted that his external actions are at the very least plainly unobscured and clear for readers and audiences alike to see unfiltered. Ultimately, however, it should also be remembered that all this only applies to the play at a deeply hypothetical meta-perspective. Analyzing Hamlet from a more standard lens, which focuses on the themes of the play as they are seen in just that–the context of the play–it is clear these abstract speculations are not applicable, though they may certainly have merit in other forms of analysis.
Memory in Hamlet proves to be both powerful and painful, mired in subjectivity, and prone to being altered and forgotten. Old Hamlet’s legacy is compromised more by his son’s own imaginations of him than actual truth, and Hamlet in turn ends up forgetting his original purposes, becoming lost in the vengeance and vindication which his façade-turned-real act of insanity justifies. Though maybe the argument can be made that Hamlet manages to fulfill the Ghost’s request in the end, or perhaps that Hamlet’s memory may be preserved from a roundabout, meta-perspective, there is similarly no denying that his process of doing so is shaky at best, and realistically doubtful in terms of his intentions. Ultimately, Hamlet culminates with the titular prince failing to adhere to his father’s wishes in the manner the latter desired, and with him making the same foolhardy dying request that his predecessor made, both destined to be misconstrued by the ones who remain in the living world. In his subtle implication of these ideas rather than direct exposition, Shakespeare manages to encapsulate the essence of how memories twist, morph, and vanish in reality: Not explicitly pushed away from the forefront of one’s mind and promptly disappearing, but instead slowly being forgotten, dying and fading away into its shadowy recesses.
Works Cited
Andrews, Michael Cameron. “‘REMEMBER ME’: MEMORY AND ACTION IN HAMLET.” The Journal of General Education, vol. 32, no. 4, 1981, pp. 261–70. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27796826. Accessed 21 Apr. 2023.
Hammersmith, James P. “Hamlet and the Myth of Memory.” ELH, vol. 45, no. 4, 1978, pp. 597– 605. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2872579. Accessed 21 Apr. 2023.