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To Be Or Not To Be

7 years ago1,523 words

I saw a performance (sort of) of Hamlet today with my housemates. It moved me a surprising amount, especially that most famous of soliloquies which seemed to put into wonderful words the thoughts I've been having recently.

I've never really had much respect for Shakespeare. I - like pretty much every Western child - covered a selection of his plays in school, but I never thought much of them. I didn't really understand what the dialogue was on about, so on some level I assumed that nobody else did either. I thought it was an Emperor's New Clothes kind of thing; everyone singing his praises to show that they 'got it', lest they be thought of as uncultured and dim.

One of my housemates is studying Literature, though, specifically Shakespeare's stuff, and both of them are more outgoing than me, always trying to organise goings-out. I've been reluctant to join them on any of their outings so far (since they were to nightclubs and things), but Hamlet was playing locally, they suggested we all go, and I politely agreed. I imagined it'd be a dull performance of a boring, incomprehensible play I'd have to endure for three hours for the sake of maintaining social harmony. I came up with excuses for why I couldn't go at all.

I did go, though, and I was very pleasantly surprised! I assumed it'd be a live play by amateurs, flatly reciting memorised lines without regard to their meaning, but instead it was a film screening of a 2015 performance staring everyone's favourite genius heartthrob otter, Bendydick Cuminmysnatch. Him being in it made it seem at least bearable, I thought.


(He's looking unsuitably gormless here, but I couldn't find any better photos of him with the skull!)

Before the screening actually started, some guy - I think he's a literature professor at the university or something - spent what seemed like half an hour (but was probably much less) giving what amounted to a lecture about the structure and themes of the play from an analytical point of view. I... did not find this enthralling. Thoughts ran through my mind about the frustrating fact that instead of making their own art, some people devote their lives to writing 'pointless' essays about the work of actual artists that would probably make those artists raise an incredulous eyebrow. Made me wonder what an analytical essay about my own creative output might include, and how many millions of miles away it'd be from what was actually going through my head when I made it. None of these were particularly admirable thoughts, spurring a cyclical frustration at myself for being frustrated, etc...

Anyway. As for the performance itself, I enjoyed it more than I expected to. Unlike in school, I actually understood what they were talking about (mostly; some bits were lost on me, and it took concentration to parse the rest, as I assume is the case for most people). I found myself surprisingly awed by the clever metaphors, wordplay, imagery; I began to finally see why people consider Shakespeare a genius. I felt naive for not seeing it earlier.

In particular, the themes of death and depression spoke to me. I've often felt that life is a story we enter into, knowing key plot points before we begin and seeing foreshadowing of those plot points in various subtle forms... It's sort of magical thinking and I'm not saying I believe that's true as such, though it's an interesting idea, I think. I wondered whether the opportunity to see this play 'randomly' coming up right when I was most intensely having these thoughts about whether to live or die might be a form of that. Of the story showing itself, in a way. Like how characters in sitcoms turn on the television only for it to immediately play the news or an advert with something directly relevant to whatever zany situation they're in.

I can see why this soliloquy is Shakespeare's most famous, and why so many of its images and phrases have become embedded in our collective consciousness (∞ Benedict Cumberbatch performed it very well, I thought ∞):



It was interesting, hearing that in its entirety with my adult mind, because it's always been one of those things I thought I knew but, well, didn't. It's so ingrained in our culture that I just assumed I knew at least the gist of it, but like with other taken-for-granted cultural artefacts like, say, the Bible, an actual direct look at the thing apart from the cultural osmosis reveals hidden and surprising depths (though they're less repulsively shocking than those in that holy book).

Why do we live through horrible lives, if not out of fear of the unknown that lies beyond? Better to stick with the pain we know than to take our chances with an irreversible gamble. If we all knew for certain that eternal bliss lay beyond, how many people would jump straight off cliffs? Most? Perhaps that's the reason we don't know, and never will know.

It seems possible, based on things I've read about Near Death Experiences and such, that beyond life lies a continued existence where we experience timeless, pure, uninterrupted love and peace... The warm, white embrace of the universe. Our true state, our home. But a state of perfection leaves no room for growth. Playing a game in God Mode, or roaming an MMO world at the max level for eternity, seems dull. There'd be a lot to gain from starting from the beginning, building yourself up from level 1, fighting battles so then you can challenge yourself, learn, experience. Life might be the prism that filters the bright white light of ecstatic eternity into a rainbow of pleasure, pain, peace, panic... We live to suffer, because we can't in the hereafter. Pain is what incarnated lives offer that 'Heaven', in its perfection, lacks. Perhaps.

But if we knew where we'd come from, and where we'd go when it ended, would we be able to endure that pain? Perhaps not. Perhaps when we were born, we chose to temporarily forget who we were because if we knew, we wouldn't stay. It's an idea.

To be or not to be... I've been going over it again and again in my mind recently, if not in those words. Should I live or should I die? Death is permanent... but why stick with something that's going nowhere? That bliss might lie beyond; perhaps I could go home, and experience the love I'm lacking here, a million times more intensely than anything this world can provide. Or perhaps oblivion lies beyond? But that just means I wouldn't have to suffer any regret because there'd be no 'me' to experience anything at all. Or perhaps I'd return to 'the source' and be told I'd failed, I'd quit, I'd squandered an opportunity for growth? Maybe I chose this pain? Maybe this is what I wanted?

I don't know. I'm going to continue thinking about it, probably. But if I were certain of what lay beyond - and it was something better than this - I really don't think I'd keep delaying my suicide. Maybe that really is why I shouldn't know...

At the moment, literally the only thing that's keeping me going is the thought that the next Pokemon game is coming out soon. Hmm.