Hamlet, and his first act, and a bit of Maddy style honesty.

I'm gonna write it in terms I understand, so very little will be Shakespeare.

Essentially, in the start of Hamlet, we learn that Hamlet Sr was the king of Denmark until two months ago, when he died.
Hamlet Sr's brother (Claudius) then got the throne (not sure why, seems sensible to just give the throne to Hamlet Jr, what with Hamlet Jr being Hamlet Sr's child and all).
Claudius then married Hamlet Jr's mum, Gertrude,  which Hamlet Jr is deeply displeased about.
2 months go past, and the guards of the palace of Denmark start seeing the ghost of Hamlet sr.  They decide it's probably a good idea to tell H.J.
In a little court meeting doohickey, H.J. is told by new stepdad Uncle Claudius that he can't go back to Uni, because it will upset his ma, but he should also just get over the whole "OMG my dad is dead" thing.
Laertes leaves, but warns his sister Ophelia that she should stay away from H.J., because he's a bit messed up, and getting preggers without marriage would probably be a bad idea.
H.J. is then told by the guards that there is a ghost of his dad floating about, but not talking to anyone.  H.J. stays up late, and sees his dad's ghost, who then tells him that Claudius put poison in his ear to kill him, and actually it wasn't a snake, like what was publiscised.
H.J. is clearly very upset by this.  He vows to get revenge, but to pretend that he is mad first.

Now, this last bit is a bit confusing for everyone, and has caused much debate about the classroom.
Why would he pretend to be mad?
Why not just get a sword and go chop Claudius' head off while he's drunk downstairs?
Really, just what?

This COULD be an insanely clever attempt at tactics.
If he pretends to be mad, he might get away with killig his Uncle/Stepdad thingy.
He could blame his madness on his completely messed up family.
It could work very well!!

However.
This really does make him seem a wee bit of a wuss.
He could have just killed his uncle on being an adulterer and saying that actually, hey, this bloke killed my dad!!
Then again, where's the proof?  Frankly, if some grieving prince came up to me, killed his uncle, and said "I did that because the ghost of my father told me that my uncle murdered him!" I would probably tell him to get some help.
So, either way, he could be construed as mad.
Which begs the question: Why pretend to be mad when, actually, you're probably going to be seen as mad anyway?
Silly Hamlet.

Maude Clare - Christina Rossetti

1: How is the story told within the poem you are studying? E.g. from whose perspective, 1^st/2^nd/3^rd person is there a beginning, middle and end?

We believe it is being told from an onlookers view, in third person. We felt the beginning was the first five stanzas. The next three are the middle, and the last four are the end.  The narrative is omniscient as they know all the inner feelings and turmoil of the characters.  Within the narrative it is suggested that Thomas’ father has been through a similar experience in the past, yet had more conviction than his son does. 

It is told with backstory, adding into the poem how they feel and why their emotions are as such, making the poem very narrative and understandable.

2: What themes are explored within the poem?

The themes explored are vindication, love, lust, and betrayal. The poem says a lot through its sing song couplets. Love is at the crux of the situation, with two women in love with the same man in very different ways, and one man at a total loss as to what he has done and what he should do. Maud Clare is obviously lust, stimulation, and she considers herself as his equal. She is fierce, clever and fiery, but also clearly the woman he is deeply in love with, as he cannot cross her even as she denounces him at his own wedding. Nell on the other hand, his wife, is very demure and “pale with pride.” She considers it her duty to love him and now that they are wed she knows that he will come to forget his passionate affair and come to appreciate a loving, uncomplaining, and totally submissive life partner. Far more reliable and steadfast.  Thomas does not, however, love her. Maude is portrayed as flighty. You get the impression that Thomas' mother very strongly agrees with the match. It may even have been arranged. You gather from the information that the affair with Maude Clare may have been from childhood, and his mother did not approved so he forsook her, to her anger and despair, and settled for something much less, but much more suitable. 

3: What poetry and poetic devices are used for what effect?

An awful lot of imagery is used during Maude Clare's speech, where she describes intensely and with some passion the things they did when together, such as "waded ankle-deep for lilies in the beck".  This produces such an image in your head that you can sense the coolness of the water and the tickling of gentle currents.

There also seems to be somewhat of an extended metaphor through the choice of memories she tells of.  She speaks of spring moments when they were happy, which may suggest that their relationship was like the changing seasons, and by the next spring they had finished and he had a new love.

Analysing A Smack Of Fate

The characterisation we used for the two main characters, Derek and Chantelle, were pretty stereotypical.  Derek was shown as a bonkers, decaying old scientist, who'd never really done anything of note, and Chantelle as a traditional crackhead supermodel who ate nothing and (very nearly) suffered a tragic and early demise.  I think it was probably the fact that we didn't have them die in the end (a much debated subject!!) that made it individual and a bit more of a fairy tale in comparison to real life.  The Destiny's Child godmothers were also fairly stereotypical, but mixed in with more of a punch rather than just the traditional "you shall go to the ball, *poof*" nonsense we are used to. (Surely it would have been more character building for Cinders to have carved out the inside of a giant pumpkin rather than just having a magical carriage put forth??)


The time and place of the story were made so that the readers had a sense that Derek was very much determined to have his love.  The fact that he was in Morocco and she in England made his ardour for her more desperate and perverted, yet with a nice dash of wholesome determination.

The audience was possibly more involved with our story than perhaps traditional fairy tales as we had references to modern culture such as a Mini or heroin, rather than spinning wheels and riders on horseback.  Younger, yet in a way older (teenagers) readers could become more into this story as it has those references to what may be considered "their culture".

(Don, not entirely sure what is meant by point of view??  I.e. first person or something else??)

A Smack Of Fate

Once upon a time, in Leicester, flat 32c, there lived a beautiful supermodel called Chantelle.  Every day she would wake up and cross the dual carriageway to get to her job at Maybelline.  After posing and pouting and demanding endless Red Bulls, she would retire to the hypodermic needle-filled alleyway outback to shoot up a few grams of the finest heroin her riches could afford.  One day, when getting her daily fix, she miscalculated her measurements.  With one hundred grams of smack circulating her veins, the cross across the dual carriageway became a little more complicated.  In her drug induced haze, she did not see the oncoming orange convertible Mini, and was thrown into the air so she could have seen through her bedroom window on the top floor if she had been conscious.

An ambulance was called by the Mini driver, and she was rushed to hospital, pronounced comatose, and tucked up in a clean bed on the intensive care ward, stomach pumped and tubes inserted.

Far, far away in Morocco, a scientist sat in his lab, lighting the candles in a shrine dedicated to Chantelle, complete with discarded underwear and used needles.  His name was Derek, and he was mourning the hideous accident suffered by the love he added on Facebook.  He may have been rejected, but that was only because her feelings were clearly so strong that she could not put it across in words.

He vowed then that he would invent a cure to save her.  If it took five months, a year, even ten years!!

Ten years later, the now 60 year old scientist was leaning over his test tubes, tinkering and still hoping that soon the eureka moment would happen.  He was depressed, his beard was long and he’d gotten awfully skinny and wrinkled. 

Suddenly from behind him came the sweet sounds of a familiar pop song.  “I’m a survivor,  I'm gonna make it, I will survive, Keep on survivin'” An aura of pink mist surfaced from the darkness of the musty lab, filling it with the scent of Beyonce’s Heat perfume.  Derek spun in his tattered wheely chair, and was confronted with a vision of the Destiny’s Child of yester-year. 

“Derek,” the Kelly Rowland spirit said, “You WILL find a cure!  Do not give up hope!”

“But Kelly!” Derek exclaimed, “I have been sat here for ten years, formulating and becoming thoroughly discombobulated!  I am a shadow of the man I used to be!  Even if I do come up with the cure, Chantelle could never love me.”

Michelle Williams’ ethereal voice piped in.  “Derek, Chantelle will not need to love you for your physique or your organisation or even your charisma!  She will love you because you saved her from a terrible and pointless existence.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes Derek,” proclaimed Beyonce Knowles, “She will love you!”

“But I can’t find the cure!”

Kelly Rowland sighed deeply.  “You see the purple stuff?”

“Yes?”

“Mix it with the pink.”

Derek did as instructed.  As the mixture bubbled and fizzed, Derek did not notice the pink glittery puffs of smoke as the voluptuous visions dissipated.  As it calmed, he grabbed a syringe, filled it with the wonder-drug and injected it into his comatose test mouse.  Immediately, the mouse jumped up and looked suspiciously at Derek and his needle.  Derek also jumped, but with rather more joy and jubilation that he could finally dash to Leicester to save the addict he was so desperately infatuated with. 

On the flight from Morocco’s main airport, Marrakesh, Derek stared nervously into the plane’s small mirror, oblivious to the angered knocking of fellow passengers busting for it.  He combed and re-combed his straggly hair, straightened his tie and even experimented with clear mascara and concealer purchased from the airport shop with the little savings left from his large jackpot win that he had been surviving off for the last three decades.  When he finally felt that he was the best presented he could possibly be, he sauntered back to his seat, buckled up for the final descent and as the plane shuddered to a halt, he felt he had finally reached the pinnacle of his existence.

He made a headlong dash straight for the Leicester Royal Infirmary.  He sprinted past reception, brandishing the needle in his hand.  As he rounded the corner for intensive care, he screeched to a halt as he saw the name of his beloved written on the door.  Apprehensively, he pulled open the door, frail hand shaking in anticipation.  He had finally laid eyes on the woman he was destined to love.  He lurched forward, screamed her name, “Chantelle!  Now we can be together forever and always!” and stabbed her right in the forearm.

Her azure eyes fluttered into consciousness, widening at the sight of the world she had been blocked from for so many years.  In her head were the words “Who is this old bloke stabbing me with such a large needle?  I can take my own heroin, thank you!”

He was of a rather different attitude.  He had broken down sobbing.

“Ten years I have worked to save you, my beloved.  And now we can be together!”

He got to his knees, and pulled out  his grandmother’s ring.

“Chantelle, darling, will you do me the incomparable honour of being my lawfully wedded wife?”

Chantelle was shocked and appalled that such a wrinkly old fellow could possibly think that she would marry someone like him.

She opened her mouth to decline rather impolitely, when a doctor burst into the room.

“Good God!” he exclaimed. “How on Earth is this woman awake?  She just last week was declared brain dead, and we were going to shut off her life support later this afternoon!  If you have cured her, you’re going to be a very rich man!!”

Registering this in her vegetative state, Chantelle finally understood the true meaning of love; money.  Grinning to herself, she shuffled her left hand forwards and slipped the rather minute diamond onto her ring finger. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

Once more, Derek’s eyes filled with tears as he grasped her hand tightly. He pulled her into his aged arms and embraced her.

And in one ear he heard a delicate whisper.

“So, uhm, what was your name?”

What IS so good about Hamlet??

Well, what is so good about Hamlet?
According to the nice bloke who wrote http://www.pathguy.com/hamlet.htm, Hamlet is pretty awesome because it's the first play to discuss the toughtest questions in life. And it's so different because it leaves us with a sense that life is indeed worth living.
I will admit now I haven't read it, I haven't seen it, and that I'm overall really rather passionate about Shakespeare in an over the top kind of way.
So, actually, I know it's good because Shakespeare was a genius of EPIC proportions with stories that have applied to modern life throughout the ages and applies to modern life now. 
But what makes Hamlet apply to modern life?
He's young, confused, and his family life is a bit rubbish.  His dad is dead, his uncle got what was rightfully his, and his mum has married another bloke.  Children from anything other than the "nuclear family" can relate to something here, making Hamlet relevant, even though it was written several hundred years ago by an old bald guy who had affairs (Probably.  Let's not go into the whole conspiracy about Shakespeare now.  Whoever the hell Shakespeare was, my commendations go out to them).
Hamlet is also inspirational.  He goes from wanting himself dead (don't blame the guy) to loving being alive.  I'll put my hands up and say I don't know WHY, but he does, which is good :)
The message is one of HOPE.  Lovely hope.  We all need some hope going on.  If everyone was doom and gloom the whole time, we wouldn't have cheese in a tube.  It can only have taken a LOT of hope to sort THAT out.
So yeah.  Hamlet is great.  But I feel I should read it properly before getting to involved by saying how entirely awesome it is.  It feels a bit stupid doing this with no real knowledge of the thing I'm writing about.