Procrastination and Tragedy in Hamlet | The Hundred River Review

Image Credit: Ferwa Razzaq

by Steven Yu

Procrastination – the bane of college students across the globe. The tantalizing pleasures of Youtube and the immediate social gratifications of Facebook are all too alluring for the average student, especially when the alternative is a five to seven page essay about that old drab Shakespeare. And yet the title character of what most people believe to be Shakespeare’s crowning achievement, Hamlet, is probably the best-known procrastinator of all. In her paper, “Tragic Flaw in Shakespeare’s Hamlet,” scholar P. Indira Devi argues that “Shakespeare’s tragic hero Hamlet’s fatal flaw is his failure to act immediately to kill Claudius, his uncle and murderer of his father” (2). Although the ghost of Hamlet’s father orders Hamlet to kill his uncle Claudius in Act I, our hero waits until the king is undeniably guilty before he ends his uncle’s life. Despite Hamlet’s eventual success in killing Claudius, Devi argues that his “procrastination, his tragic flaw, leads him to his doom along with that of the other characters” (2).

This judgement upon Hamlet is easily made from the perspective of an omniscient reader who knows of Claudius’s guilt, but falls short when viewed from Hamlet’s perspective. According to Aristotle in his Poetics, a tragic hero is someone who falls not because of vice or depravity, but falls “because of some mistake” (57). While Devi is quick to pinpoint Hamlet’s mistake in his delay to kill Claudius, I would like to pause, as Hamlet does, on the reasons for why he does not immediately kill Claudius. Departing from the popular view of faulting Hamlet’s procrastination, I wish to argue that Hamlet should not receive full blame for the misfortunate events that befall Denmark. Instead, I argue that much of the fault lies outside our hero and that a consideration of these external forces is important to any understanding of Hamlet’s tragic situation. In this paper, I want to focus on how the dubious reality of the ghost of Hamlet’s father, as well as the political situation of Denmark, complicates the significance of Hamlet’s measured acts of procrastination.

Hamlet breaks the classical model of an Aristotelian tragic hero in both his characterization and his revelation. While most authors give their protagonists an overbearing tragic flaw to balance their talents, Hamlet lacks a unique and strong tragic flaw because he has no amazing talents to balance out. Aristotle notes four important aspects of a successful tragic character, one of which “is to make the character lifelike, which is something different from making them good and appropriate” (60). Unlike the abilities of well-known tragic heroes such as Odysseus and Oedipus, Hamlet’s amazing intellectual ability provides little to no assistance and at times prevents him from being decisive. One might expect in another story that if Hamlet were told of the injustice against his father, he would boldly and heroically battle his way through the kingdom’s forces to claim his rightful place on the throne. This is the exact opposite of what our protagonist chooses to do. Instead of heroically battling his fate, he laments “that the Everlasting had not fixed his canon ‘gainst self-slaughter” (1.2.131). Referencing the belief that suicide would lead the religious to hell, Hamlet rather unheroically wishes to kill himself before even learning of his fate. There is no need to give Hamlet a tragic flaw to humanize and help the reader to empathize with him because Hamlet’s abilities and actions are well within the scope of human capability.

Shakespeare’s twist on the reversal and recognition of the elements of Aristotle’s model explain the complex thoughts which, I argue, absolve Hamlet of any guilt. These moments of reversal and recognition happen for Hamlet when he meets his father’s ghost. After Hamlet talks with the ghost, his life undergoes Aristotle’s reversal, defined as “a change from one state of affairs to its exact opposite,” since now he cannot run away from home lest guilt slowly eats away at him (56). He also reaches Aristotle’s recognition stage, described as “a change from ignorance to knowledge,” when he learns of the potential truth behind his father’s death (56). Although Shakespeare’s recognition of Hamlet already deserves praise from Aristotle as Aristotle remarks “the best form of recognition is that which is accompanied by a reversal,” Hamlet’s recognition is also an incomplete one as he is unsure of the ghost’s credibility (56).

Although the play does later prove the ghost’s accusations to be true, the characters in the play rightfully doubt the ghost as spirits hold the possibility of evil intentions. Horatio immediately reveals to the readers that “it must be either an evil spirit or a good one” (Joseph 495) and warns Hamlet of the ghost potentially leading Hamlet to death or to madness (1.5.69-74). Ironically, the ghost’s credibility does lead to both Hamlet’s death and madness as his inner conflict troubles him for the rest of his life. Other tragic heroes like Oedipus receive rather direct confirmation of their relevant fact, but Hamlet changes from ignorance to uncertainty rather than to knowledge. This uncertainty causes Hamlet’s delay, and it is therefore the dubious reality of the ghost that causes his delay. The shift of blame from Hamlet to the dubious reality of the ghost causes a stronger sense of pity for Hamlet’s tragedy as he suffers not because of some personal mistake, but because of his uncertainty over which he has no control.

Aristotle’s tragic hero is typically characterized as one who falls after the consequences of some action, but Hamlet does not appear to act much at all. After receiving his father’s command to kill Claudius, Hamlet promises to him “thy commandment all alone shall live / Within the book and volume of my brain” but does not do much until Act II when the opportunity presents itself (1.5.102-3). It is natural then to view Hamlet’s decision to do nothing as the action leading to his demise. From there, jumping to the conclusion that his inaction – his delay – must be his tragic flaw also comes naturally. In the book Stay, Illusion!, Simon Critchley and Jamieson Webster reference Hegel’s claim that Hamlet “eventually perishes owing to his own hesitation and a complication of external circumstances” (qtd. in Critchley and Jamieson 92). Although Critchley and Jamieson reference Hamlet’s delay as another factor of his demise, I wish to focus on the external circumstances of the prince. While much time does pass between Hamlet receiving his duty and enacting it, he does not waste it pondering. As he does not possess any exceptional gifts to help him combat the world, Hamlet makes a traditionally unheroic decision: he looks for help.

The first person who seems capable of trusting and helping Hamlet is Ophelia. Lamenting his fate and delaying his duty, Hamlet does at one point turn to Ophelia for assistance. Ophelia reports to her father, Polonius, that Hamlet went to her with “a little shaking of [her] arm …[and] He raised a sigh so piteous and profound that it did seem to shatter all his bulk / And end his being” (2.1.93-97). This sign of weakness shows that Hamlet trusts Ophelia, perhaps because he loves her and knows that she has feelings for him as well. He tries to rely on somebody else because his fate is too much for him to bear alone, but Hamlet’s repeated distress calls for Ophelia fail because “as [Polonius] did command / [She] did repel his letters, and denied / His access to [her]” (2.1.109-11). Due to Polonius’s erroneous foresight and advice, Hamlet is unable to request assistance, or even talk to, the only person in the play in whom he could confide. He completely loses faith in Ophelia during their next encounter in the castle as he questions her: “are you honest? … Are you fair?” (3.1.104-06). In the 2009 film adaptation of Hamlet, directed by Gregory Doran, this scene repeatedly shows Hamlet staring into the camera revealing his knowledge that both Claudius and Polonius are listening in from afar. Assuming her to be a supporter of Claudius, Hamlet concludes that he cannot trust Ophelia with his burden and quickly severs their ties. As he parts from his only sure confidant, Hamlet asks Horatio – his one friend – for minimal assistance.

Horatio is introduced as the best friend of Hamlet, easily seen from Hamlet’s animated lines when they first reunite. However, while Hamlet addresses Horatio as “Sir, my good friend”, he does not actually confide in him as a good friend would (1.2.162). Critchley and Webster also reveal in their analysis the possibility that Horatio is spying on someone else’s behalf is not improbable, given how little we know of the character (47-49). When we look at the situation in Denmark, it becomes clear why Hamlet cannot shake the feeling that Horatio might be just like Ophelia, a pawn in someone else’s game. Hamlet realizes early on that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, also friends of his, were charged by Claudius to spy on him as in their first conversation he questions “Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining [to visit me]? Is it a free visitation” (2.2.238-9). For our wary protagonist, it is not difficult to also take Horatio’s loyalty with a grain of salt.

Once we remove the last trustworthy person from the list of potential confidants, it becomes clear that Denmark’s current situation of turmoil and espionage causes Hamlet’s downfall. Every character in the play is watched by someone else. Comparing Hamlet to his foil Laertes, we see that Laertes’ father, Polonius, orders a servant to “make inquire of his behavior” and to look for actions like “drinking, fencing, swearing, [and] quarreling” (2.1.4-26). Although Polonius’s watch over his own son may be filled with good intentions, it clearly shows that he does not trust his son. This lack of trust amongst the main characters of the play permeates their relations, creating an atmosphere of doubt and wariness between all residents of the castle. An excellent illustration of this comes from Doran’s Hamlet where certain scenes are viewed through a security camera. Although the primary use of this camera is to show that the ghost of King Hamlet does not appear on recordings, the cameras also reflect the spying and lack of trust throughout the castle of Elsinore, explaining Hamlet’s beliefs that the current “Denmark’s a prison” (2.2.242).

Hamlet tries and fails to recruit assistance from others, leaving him with no choice but to tackle his fate alone. As fortune would have it, a group of performers stroll into Denmark giving Hamlet the idea to probe Claudius’s guilt. He instructs the performers to act out the circumstances of his father’s death and judges Claudius based on the usurper’s reactions, believing “For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak / With most miraculous organ” (2.2.514-515). After the Mousetrap succeeds, Hamlet is presented with a golden opportunity to kill a vulnerable, praying Claudius. Although the reader knows earlier that Claudius confesses, “My offense is rank…It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t, a brother’s murder” (3.3.36-8), Hamlet enters only after Claudius finishes his own soliloquy, leaving him still in the dark about Claudius’s culpability (3.4.36). While many rush to fault Hamlet for not stabbing Claudius in the back here, Hamlet assesses the situation as one where “A villain kills my father and for that, I, his sole son, do this same villain send to heaven” (3.4.76-8). In this moment, he is still unsure of Claudius’s sin, so from Hamlet’s perspective it is rational to wait until a time when Claudius is proven guilty. Devi argues that all deaths after this point were due to Hamlet’s delay in killing Claudius; however, murdering Claudius here would not have been very honorable or heroic. Although certain lives may have been saved, those lives have already been ruined by the events of the play: Ophelia and Laertes are left fatherless while Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother, must reckon with her own sin after the confrontation with her son. Perhaps death is the best ending for them as they could also escape with Hamlet from the tragedy that is Denmark – especially as Fortinbras’s army marches outside the castle doors.

Procrastinators all over the world only boldly admit their fault in delay because, for the most part, they do ultimately complete their assignment. Although the quality of work may not be ideal, the goal is attained. While Hamlet may not be remembered as the conquering hero of his time like his father, he still receives credit for killing Claudius. However, this credit pales in comparison to the effort and suffering Hamlet needed to endure before reaching his journey’s end. He was not gifted with abilities like superhuman strength to quickly avenge his father, but in the absence of an act of heroism, we gain a sense of his humanity, a quality of which is captured so well in his thoughts. He asks his friends for help like any normal human would when faced with insurmountable odds, but finds no solace as no one deserves trust. His downfall comes not from a personal tragic flaw, but from what Aristotle defines as hamartia, a class of mistaken acts “due not to vice or depravity, but to ignorance of some relevant fact or circumstance” (95). In following this fate, Hamlet finds himself fulfilling Aristotle’s construction of “the finest kind of tragedy from an artistic point of view” (58). As each character in the play slowly drifts further away from Hamlet, Shakespeare’s greatest character finds himself to be great only in solitude.