To Feel or To Please?

Oh why can they not understand? My heart beats yet I feel there is no sound; muffled by their damp and dark words. Laertes spat at me with that loving twinge in his voice, “Hold [Hamlet’s love] a fashion and a toy in blood”(1.3.6-7). Does he ask me to not indulge in his sweet words? But how I will do so, I do not know, I haven’t the smallest amount of will power in me to do so—yet for the brazen harsh words of my father, I will. He spoke to me with almost a sense of disgust calling me a “green girl” and also mentioning that I am, “Unsifted in such perilous circumstance” (1.3.110-111). Am I so naïve? I know my mother is nowhere in sight or thought, yet I know that I feel something when Hamlet is near, it must be something. Whose advice could I possibly seek?

I have tried to understand where they are coming from. They have not seen the way he [Hamlet] treats me, with the love and respect that I do not even know if I am supposed to have, or if it is socially acceptable? My father and brother see Hamlet only as a weakness to myself; maybe it is because they wish to spend the time with me instead. But I have a gut feeling it is for the sake of the family name, the outlook from which other outsiders build their perspective. My father told me to, “Be something scanter of your maiden presence” (1.3.130). I can only hint a twinge of me not being communally adequate enough for him. Yet I am torn between his harshness and Laertes conniving and soft words toward myself; our close relationship doesn’t help the fact that I only fall into the swirl of conversation he creates. Laertes spoke, “…keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire” (1.3.38-39). As if I remain on a battlefield, do I run from the enemy? He wants me to fear Hamlet himself, as if he is a bad man only in a pleasant disguise. To fear love; what a dilemma I have on my hands. A decision I must make, but to not please is inevitable.

I seek advice. I seek guidance in a direction leading me to have no blood on my hands and pleasure in my heart; if that is possible I do not know. Hamlet gives me sweets and candy, the same candy my lord only considers as poison, yet if it is poison to society or poison to me I cannot untangle. Yet I cannot ignore the fact that maybe they are only striving to protect me, something I remain so gracious towards. No matter how I create this resolution I must always be on good terms with my lord and Laertes, I must. I responded I would, “effect of this good lesson keep” (1.3.49), after Laertes spoke his words. I seek a resolution with no intention of blood or avenge, simply pleasure and coalescing of such opposition and hate I experienced. If only love could spread across the vastness they seem unable to see across maybe I could choose to love and feel or not to feel, only paint a picture of perfection.