Hamlet has several foils—characters whose
circumstances and/or actions somehow mirror or contrast with his own. These are
minor characters whose purpose is to foreground a major character. Who are
Hamlet’s foils? The chart in my introductory lecture considers both Fortinbras
and Laertes.
Fortinbras is like Hamlet in terms of seeking
recompense for his dishonoured father. Moreover, Hamlet’s soliloquy in 4.4,
comparing his own cause with Fortinbras’, links both to the performance of the
Player in 2.2 (the Pyrrhus episode). Just as the Player is able to emote so
powerfully in a mere fiction of revenge, so does the Norwegian army risk heavy
casualty for a small patch of ground, one “not tomb enough and continent /
To hide the slain” (4.4.64-65)—i.e., the land over which they fight
is not large enough even to bury the battle-dead. (Hamlet, of course, does not
know the truth—that Fortinbras is moving not against Poland, as the
Captain claims, but against Denmark.)
Hamlet’s greatest foil, however, is Laertes. When
Hamlet stabs Polonius, so begins the play’s second great revenge action. Indeed,
it begins at the very moment that the first one “ends”: Hamlet
finally striking the king—but of course, it’s not the king. This is
significant, no? Hamlet is famous for his hesitation, yet here he carries
through, if only in intent.
As for Laertes, let’s examine several passages. The
first is 4.5.128-39, “Where is my father … with little.” How
do Laertes’ oaths here compare with Hamlet’s concerns about the supernatural?
Recall that immediately after the Ghost’s first appearance, Hamlet utters an
oath that ends with a question, “shall I couple [i.e., include]
hell?” (1.5.93).
Now look at 4.7.106-25, “Laertes, was your father
… To cut his throat i‚’ th‚’ church.” Goaded by Claudius, Laertes
is so eager to do right by his father that he would, if necessary, commit murder
on sacred ground. The line alludes certainly to the famous murder of Thomas
Beckett in Canterbury Cathedral, but it also suggests violation of the law of
sanctuary, which held that even criminals could not be harmed if seeking
protection from the church. The point here, as with the previous passage, is to
contrast Laertes’ heroic determination with Hamlet’s reluctance.
Look at Claudius’ speech just prior to “cut his
throat i‚’ th‚’ church.” Where have we heard THIS before? Does it not
recall the Player King at 3.2.168ff.? It disturbs me to no end that the PK’s
beautiful monologue about the tragic gap between intention and
outcome—probably composed by Hamlet—is paraphrased (or
plagiarized!) by the despicable Claudius, and used to goad Laertes toward
killing the prince. Laertes, significantly and unlike Hamlet, does not succumb
to the fading memory of purpose to which Claudius (and the PK)
alludes.
Hamlet explicitly compares himself with
Laertes—sees him as a foil. Indeed, just prior to the catastrophe, Hamlet
invokes the term: “I’ll be your foil, Laertes” (5.2.223). Hamlet is
HIS foil, not the other way around? The titular hero removes himself from, and
places Laertes at, the centre of the play? Does this make sense? Well, as the
hero of a revenge tragedy, Laertes is far more suitable. Hamlet has been a
miserable failure in this respect. When he, the prince, finally does cut down
Claudius, he does so in the midst of a confusing mess; he does not go into this
final encounter with a deliberate intention to fulfill his avenging purpose.
Indeed, just moments before, he is calm and resigned to
“providence”: “If it be now … Let be”
(5.2.189-93).
It is as though Hamlet finds himself cast in the role
of an avenging hero and yet thoroughly incapable of playing the part. When he
does finally rise to the role (killing Polonius thinking him Claudius), he
fails. You might say that Hamlet’s hamartia here,
his tragedy, is to fail to be an avenging hero. Laertes better fits the
description. Hamlet is in the wrong play! Or another way of saying the same
thing: Shakespeare begins by writing a revenge tragedy, then somehow, for
reasons we can only guess at, the play gets away from him and turns into
something else entirely—one of the most celebrated works of Western
literature. Hamlet’s failure, in other words, is the play’s success as a work of
art. For without the hesitation, without the marvelous soliloquies, the play
would be just another over-the-top bloodbath. We get a little of that in the
final scene, but it seems almost a parody of the form, especially in
juxtaposition to all that precedes it.
If Hamlet is not a revenge hero, what on earth is he?
And what is the play Hamlet if not a revenge
tragedy?
The grave scene is filled with grim humour. Point to specific passages and explain why they are effective, or pose questions.