Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Oh, Ophelia!

A while ago I made a list of things I really wanted to do around the city.
Shakespeare in the Park.
Check.



Last night I saw "Hamlet". I've seen around a dozen or so versions of this show so far, and for some reason, I always forget that they tend to last nearly four hours (oy veh!). Somehow we made it through!!!

I heart Hamlet. (Well, in truth, I heart Polonius, but still...)

(Newsday Photo / Ari Mintz / June 16, 2008)

When I was pretty young I was kind of a reverse-snob (I suppose now I claim to be just a regular snob). I thought all the people into Shakespeare were weirdos. It was one of the many, many lessons in humilty I would learn in my life. As I learned more and more about the "Complete Works," I fell in love with it. And I suppose, as Hamlet is likely my most studied, it's also one of my most favorite. (I'm still a sucker for "Midsummer" and "Much Ado".)
I guess I'm at the point where I await particular lines to see how they will be delivered, I wonder if the scene with the Players will, once again, be my least favorite or actually exciting, and I long to get into the director's mind and assume his/her intentions.

One thing I really love about Hamlet - and of many of Shakespeare's works - is the theme of self and identity. From the start of the show to the finish, the script is full of questions similar to those we ask of each other and our own selves.

The opening lines:

Bernardo: Who's there?
Francisco: Nay, answer me; stand and unfold yourself.

The words of the ghostly king trickle eerily throughout the show... "Remember!"

And that very question with which we're all familiar: "To be, or not to be".

As Hamlet loses his own self to a debated form of "madness", he struggles to simply remember who he is. And poor Ophelia is caught in the crossfire.
Now, take note. I usually am not too lured in by Ophelia. I mean, sure, I feel sorry for her. But mostly I have just seen her as a chick who made a bad move in her choice of men. (Seriously, sometimes Hamlet is just nuts.)


(Newsday Photo / Ari Mintz / June 16, 2008)

But last night, I really found myself connecting to the poor gal. Same with Hamlet. I could see that he truly loved her, but for whatever reason, he just couldn't be with her. And Ophelia took it so personally, as if something were wrong with her; she felt as if she were wrongly kicked to the curb and didn't understand why all of her hopes and dreams were ripped from her. Intense.

Mostly though, she spoke a line last night that has been lingering through my head over and over.
I think I've missed it before:

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Act IV, scene 5

No matter how self-aware we are (or think we are), we don't ever really know how people perceive us... nor do we know what may become of our own selves. And sometimes - maybe even much of the time - we're actually just fooling ourselves.
How can we tell when and if we are truly in line with our own selves? And no matter how hard we try to stay in line, is it possible to always stay on track?

I've been talking with a number of friends about this very topic lately, and it keeps intriguing me. How do we know if we are truly remembering who we are? Or if we're even a degree off?
I believe the Atonement helps keeps us on track, and I know that I'm trying my best to "be real" about who I am. Sometimes I feel off course, but I know, that above all, the Lord wants me to be in line with Him and with the soul I was truly created to be... or not to be. :)

Integrity. Living your truth. Whatever you want to call it, it's simply about not being afraid of the beautiful you that just simply is... and standing up for the goodness that lies within you.


This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Act I, scene 3