· 13 July 2020 ·
[Accompanies the post Verse In Time To Come]
Hamlet wrote poetry. We have this example in his letter to Ophelia, read aloud by
my prating father-in-law her prating father in Act II, Scene 2:
A solid little quatrain in iambic trimeter. Makes its point well.
Imagine Hamlet here today. Not an old ghost, but the current version of himself, a privileged prince of roughly millennial vintage. (I did not write him thirty years old. Some other time.) Without a doubt Young Hamlet would have a blog. He would update it with similar bits of metered rhyme, and urgent surges of angst-ridden free verse. Knowing the fellow as well as I do, I figure the latter might look like this.
Here’s one that I posted quite a while ago. Hamlet is again the speaker, so you’d be likely to find it on chameleonsdish.dkNo I didn’t register the domain, but I thought about it.. The limericked version of To be, or not to be:
Ever thanks to Sylvia-with-a-y (Plath), who had her own parental issues.
Banner: Laurence Olivier as Hamlet, Eileen Herlie as Gertrude, 1948.