To be, or not to be. That IS the question.
Might be the most famous question this side of "Hey Eve, How'd you like some apple sauce with your pork chops tonight?"
Funny enough, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the Melancholy Dane and the Mother of all Creation are facing a very familiar challenge.
What is my potential, and how do I reach it?
For both Eve and Hamlet, the choices are unclear and frightening. With eternal consequences.
Eve was a princess, ordained and chosen to be a queen. She knew that the only way to reach her goals was to partake of the fruit. But doing so betrayed a specific commandment. Now she had agency... she COULD rightfully and properly choose to obey that law only and not partake; but the consequence left her stuck in a purgatory... a place where all her possibilities would remain Potential and never Kinetic. It would be the safe choice- to stay in the Garden; but was it the right one? In her mind (and a good thing for us) Eve knew it could not be. She was a being of Glory and if she wanted to obtain all that she was promised as such, she had to make the hard choice and ACT. Thus, she did. She took arms against the sea of troubles that she knew would come, and opposed them. None of us would be here otherwise.
Hamlet faces an identical quandary. He is a prince, born and reared. Had circumstances been slightly more in his favor, he would gain the throne, the girl, and all the earthly glory that he is RIGHTFULLY heir to. Yet Hamlet's murdered father appears to him (awfully serpent like if you ask me...) and asks him to be an instrument of revenge-to kill the usurper, Hamlet's uncle/stepfather. Revenge pays off quickly and the prince knows it- all that he lost would be restored to him in a single stroke with added praise and adoration from the earthly father he had loved and revered. Furthermore, it is fairly easy to argue that killing Claudius might even be just.
But on the other hand, cold blooded revenge and calculated, premeditated murder...even in a good cause, goes against all that Hamlet knows and believes. What does it profit him to gain the world but lose his soul? The long play is to suffer the slings and arrows of his truly outrageous fortune. The swift strike is to kill Claudius and be a king, although of a lesser cloth than he might have otherwise been. Sadly, he realizes "the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought", and he loses the "name of action".
In other words, he spent so much time worrying about the problems that might arise from either choice that he fails to do anything and others make his choice for him. Remember what we were saying about Kinetic versus Potential possibilities? Without action, it was "Not To Be"
Both Eve and Hamlet have been picked apart for the better part of time for the choices they made (or in Hamlet's case, refused to make), and everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But to me, the object lesson they provide is pretty stark.
Eve ACTED.
She chose, and she did, and she stood up and took the consequences so that she could gain the blessings she desired. Hamlet, by comparison, seems unwilling to bear those same consequences: He asks who would "bear the whips and scorns of time" for a chance to live their dreams?, and ultimately concludes his soliloquy with a thought that might not be as famous as his opening question, but certainly rings just as true. "Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." He won't face the music and he loses all that he might have been.
Now, at this point, you may be asking yourself, "I read Patrick's old blog and this is nothing like 'Dad has 2 heart attacks' at all. What the hell does Hamlet and Eve have to do with anything??"
Stay with me.
I have been talking about writing again almost since I stopped writing "Dad's". Every time I told a story at a family gathering, or posted an extra long rant on facebook, I'd get a little itch and think "you know, a little tweaking and that would make a great blog post." Then work would call, or one of the kids would need to go somewhere or a ball game would come on or....you get the point. It's damn hard to chase your dreams. Life gets in the way of love.
Conscience does make cowards of us all. OFTEN.
But I've been thinking about how literature applies to my life a lot lately. Maybe I'm just early for a midlife crisis, but turning 43 taught me that Douglas Adams was full of crap (Now THAT would be a great blog title, huh?); 42 was NOT the answer to life, the universe and everything. It probably wasn't even the answer to "What is 41+1?" So like Eve, and my other talented friends who display their talents with grace and beauty that I'll never possess... it is time for me to be. Or not be.
Write, Kelly; or get off the keyboard. Conscience may no longer make a coward of me, and who knows what dreams may come.
It is not my intention to turn this into a blog of LitCrit, even if that would be fun as hell and a couple of you might even be entertained by it. But it also isn't going to be "Dad's Destroying Angels" either. I'm a far different man now than that smart ass was back then. I have less hair and patience.
If I do it right, it will still be funny, it will still be interesting, and hopefully, it will help you guys learn that it's OK to be a little off the beaten path. You can always hang out with me and we will be lost together. Whaddya say? Wanna see where you can end up with a blind guide?
I figure it will probably take a few posts before I start to find my voice again, but its time to stop talking and start writing. A post a week or somewhere in the ballpark. Because I'd rather be Eve than Hamlet.
Oh, get your minds out of the gutter... sheesh. I should have remembered what kind of readers I have....
Nice to have you back
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