Thoughts on Shakespeare
Nature and Reason in Shakespeare’s Hamlet
Underlying Hamlet’s hesitation to avenge his father is an inability to reconcile nature, on the one hand, and faculties of reason, on the other. While the contrast of nature and reason is thematic throughout the play, the topic becomes increasingly stark after Hamlet kills Polonius in the third Act. Subsequently, Hamlet encounters Fortinbras in Act four, propelling Hamlet’s 4.1 soliloquy. This soliloquy provides an opportunity to connect subjective, or personal struggles with more objective ones concerning state, war and sovereignty. While Hamlet has an opportunity to communicate a political purpose that is linked to his revenge, he instead becomes entangled in dichotomy. In the beginning of the fourth Act, Fortinbras’ war against Poland and Denmark, a war over land rights, is compared to the turmoil in Hamlet’s family dynasty, which is private and internal but political nevertheless. Fortinbras, for example, leads an army whose “imminent death of twenty thousand men / That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, / Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot” (4.1.59-61), while Hamlet has “a father killed, a mother stained, / … And let all sleep, while to my shame…” (4.1.56-57). Shakespeare writes Hamlet’s soliloquy in 4.1 in such a way as to give readers access to Hamlet’s internal nature versus reason dichotomy.
How all occasions do inform against me
And spur my dull revenge. What is a man
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
Sure He that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused. Now, whether I be
Bestial oblivion or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on th’event—
A thought which quartered hath but one part wisdom
And ever three parts coward—I do not know
Why yet I live to say this thing’s to do,
Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
To do’t… (4.2.31-45).
While Fortinbras is able to successfully harness bellicosity to political benefit, Hamlet pendulates between “coward” (reason) and “beast” (nature).
Hamlet’s 4.1 soliloquy compels audiences to compare and contrast concepts, which is driven by Hamlet’s observation of Fortinbras and his military. The compare/contrast is achieved first by the caesura in line 32, where audiences become privy to Hamlet’s private philosophizing: “What is man?”. The caesura makes this question stand out and it becomes clear that Hamlet is trying to wrap his head around the very nature of his being, and what sort if implications may stem from such understanding. Further down, lines 33 – 34 are enjambed, linking an inference to the question posed: “If his chief good…be but to sleep and feed”. From the caesura in line 32 and the enjambment of lines 33 – 34, we could render the following reading:
What is a man
If his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed
A beast
No more.
The comma after “A beast” in line 34 could also serve as a caesura, emphasizing Hamlet’s reduction, and signifying a conclusion of reasoned thought—not only is man an animal, but he is nothing more than animal.
The significance of this rendering is that, through Hamlet’s lens, audiences get the sense that there is something less-than about the concept of nature. In Hamlet’s mind, a life of violence and war is an animal-like existence, it is living in mutual exclusivity to the faculties of reason. Men, as such, are little more than “beasts”. One could imagine an actor emphasizing the word beast such that we can hear and feel Hamlet’s disdain, his disgust at the idea of belonging, living, and acting in a world of violence without principle.
Hamlet’s mistrust or discomfort of nature—as unprincipled violence—is noticed throughout the play. While Hamlet reduces men to violence in nature, women, it seems, are reduced to sex and sexual appetite. Sex is or can be the same as violence, or even equivalent to death (Trapp 7.2 lecture). Gertrude, as such, is of particular ire to Hamlet, as when he confronts her in the third Act, saying, in part: “For use almost can change the stamp of nature, / And either lodge the devil, or throw him out” (3.4.170). Similarly, in the first Act: “That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature / possess it merely” (1.2.135-136). Hamlet abhors the baser, natural instincts of mankind, seeing violence and sex both as the cause of his father’s death.
Yet men have the ability to reason, which is understood by Hamlet as something distinct and separate from nature. Men can think like a god, e.g. “godlike”, and this ability to reason, if it was given by a divine power, wasn’t for nothing. Hamlet holds onto this observation desperately. In the rendering of lines 35 – 38 below, we could see how Hamlet speaks as if being lifted from a feeling of disgust to a fragile type of wonderment:
Sure He that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after,
gave us not That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unused.
One could almost imagine Hamlet looking upwards, towards the skies and away from the earth, so as to take note of the presence of something heavenly, to look up not just to the sky, but the thinking part of the mind. The first line above begins simply with “Sure”, letting the audience know that he is making a concession; men, in other words, are more than “beasts”. The iambic rhythm strongly suggests a variation, such that only “sure” and “with” are de-emphasized while the other four syllables are stressed: “he that made us”and “with such large discourse”. This achieves communicating a belligerence of what Hamlet sees as reason’s power, whereby men’s ability to reason, according to Hamlet’s train of thought, is superior, is “godlike”. Men can see into the past and look into the future. Reason and thought cannot be touched, they are pure, so they do not rot or “fust” as do natural things of the earth and the animal kingdom.
Yet Fortinbras leads a war and is called by Hamlet a “delicate and tender prince” (4.1.47), sacrificing the lives of thousands of soldiers for nothing more than small slivers of land. Why is Fortinbras not a “beast” of war, reduced to nothing more than base temperament and violent nature? Fortinbras is charged with leading an army and therefore appears less “delicate and tender” than does Hamlet. Perhaps the “delicate and tender” description means that both princes are not altogether different, even though their tasks are of a different type and scale. Unlike Hamlet though, Fortinbras successfully marries reason, political purpose, and nature, or violence/war.
As Hamlet marches his soliloquy forward in Act 4, a comparison emerges in lines 38 – 42 between nature and reason, resulting in a profound conceptual error in reason’s purity. A reading of these lines could be rendered as follows:
Now
whether I be bestial oblivion or some carven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th’event—
A thought which quartered hath but one part wisdom and ever three parts coward—
I do not know
The caesura following “Now” in line 38 positions Hamlet’s inner struggle, his obsession with this dichotomy, which is then sealed following the caesura afforded by the dash in line 42. In between “Now” and “I do not know”, which serves as a frame for a conceptual comparison, is a prosody created by enjambed lines. The iambs of these lines offer audiences both a contrast to nature (“bestial oblivion”) and a window into how Hamlet views reason as concept. The alternating stresses invite audiences to follow Hamlet’s inference of reason as a luxury of fear, or a privilege of overthink. The stressed syllables communicate a palpable emphasis, for instance, on the alliteration, e.g. “bestial oblivion” (italics are stressed), and then “carven “scruple”, to introduce the comparison. Then we philosophize alongside Hamlet that reason is divided into “one part wisdom, and ever three parts coward”, or, ˘ / ˘ / ˘ / ˘ / ˘ /. This rhythm gives Hamlet’s speech oscillation, similar to how he oscillates between revenge versus morality, between action and inaction, or nature and reason. It is also important that it ends on an unstressed syllable because having “coward” end quietly sort blankets audiences with a sense of Hamlet’s shame. The longer, enjambed lines also offer a breathlessness, perhaps an exasperation on the part of Hamlet. He is driving himself crazy. Finally, we could almost hear Hamlet’s, “I do not know” follow the iambic rhythm of exasperation as if it were whispered, there is no breath left. Hamlet is anxious, he’s exhausted. It is, after all, already the fourth Act and still Claudius lives.
Hamlet’s shame, communicated above, is rooted in inaction. His inaction leads to self-loathing because he is unable to effectuate justice for his deceased father. This, in turn, triggers Hamlet’s emotional rage, thus further driving his want for revenge. While Hamlet spins himself into maddening circles—neither wanting to be a “beast” nor a “coward”—he has enough self-awareness to understand revenge is immoral and mortality final. As a thirst for revenge brings Hamlet closer to death, as when Hamlet stabs Polonius, mortal fear kicks-in and propagates a kind of reason, a philosophizing to which audiences are invited. While Hamlet seems to regret killing Polonius, Polonius could be considered a casualty of war, which may explain Hamlet’s coy behavior in 3.6. The emotional volley between fear and rage, between faculties of reason and men’s animal-like state-of-nature, prohibit Hamlet from carving out a clear path forward. The significance of Hamlet’s words in line 42 are best heard if whispered, “I do not know”, as though they hang like an echo, a lone cloud disengaged from the lines that follow.
