Falling for Hamlet

EPILOGUE



Being led step by step through my darkest times, it occurred to me that not everything important was caught on surveillance tape or in text message. There was so much more to us and to that time than what anyone would ever see, both good and bad. I have years of happy memories that can’t easily be erased. And though those rosy memories sear my insides as much as the painful ones, they’re all here to stay.

If I were interviewing myself, I’d ask, “I understand you have some gentle feelings about Hamlet. Does that mean you forgive him?”

I would say, “No. I don’t think I could ever do that.”

“Then what?” I would ask myself. “What have you learned?”

And I wouldn’t know. I’d probably be flippant and answer, “Never get involved with royalty,” but that wouldn’t capture it.

I’d have to think about it, and I wouldn’t say anything on the spot, especially not during an interview. I try not to answer so quickly anymore. I try to think before I speak, though that’s easier said than done.

If given time, I could create a list of things I’ve learned, things I wish I’d learned before I allowed myself to disappear into Hamlet’s love and his family’s villainy. But I didn’t, and I’m learning to forgive myself for that.

I’ve learned that all happiness and all answers can’t begin and end with one guy. I need to be by myself for a while, because it’s too easy for me to put everyone else’s needs and wants ahead of my own.

I’ve learned that no gift is worth keeping a secret for, and that no photo is so bad it should turn me into a liar.

I’ve learned that I don’t mind lying to people I don’t trust.

I’ve learned to trust very few people.

I’ve learned that I behave better when I’m sober.

I’ve learned that good behavior is sometimes overrated.

I’ve learned that peach bridesmaid dresses suck.

I’ve learned not to believe everything I see on TV (actually, I knew that before) and that I never want to be in a position to be interviewed about anything ever again.

I’d say I should listen to my parents, but it’s too late for that. On that note, I’ve got to forgive myself a little, because it wasn’t all my fault. I’m not sure I’ll ever convince myself, but I’ll try.

I’ve learned that I do believe in ghosts.

And I’ve learned that coffee, when it has just the right amount of milk and sugar in it, is about the best damned thing on the planet.

The rest is silence.

AUTHOR’S NOTE



My inspiration for Falling for Hamlet came after seeing a magnificent production of Hamlet in Washington, D.C. It was set in modern times, which I loved because the focus was not on fancy costumes but on the story. Hamlet was just a confused, depressed guy walking around in a hoodie, being betrayed not only by his enemies but by everyone he loved and trusted. And it was the first time I felt really bad for Hamlet.

The one element that did not sit well with me, however, was Ophelia. The actress playing her was fine, yet I could not reconcile a modern girl losing her mind the way she did. As I walked out of the theater, I asked myself, “What would make a teenager today go crazy?” By the time I reached the subway, the question had morphed into “What if she didn’t die at all?”

Because I planned to make my story modern, the triggers for Ophelia’s actions had to change, and I wondered how Shakespeare’s questions of rank, family loyalty, and duty transferred to today. Her brother, Laertes, for instance, speaks with Ophelia early on about the consequences of losing her honor. In Shakespeare’s day, purity was everything to a young woman’s future, but not so these days. That said, shame still exists, and even if what causes it might be different, the desire to avoid humiliation leads many of us to do things we never thought we would do— like betray someone we love.

Much of Hamlet is about power, and I knew my version needed a setting with a strong hierarchy. In addition, I felt there had to be an awareness on the part of the characters that the public was watching. Shakespeare brought this theme into Twelfth Night, when he wrote, “What great ones do the less will prattle of.” In other words, commoners loved gossiping about the rich and famous. We still do. Whether it’s about celebrity weddings, breakups, or who’s wearing what, we still care. In transferring Hamlet to now, I considered setting it in a place like Hollywood or the business world of New York. But I felt strongly that keeping Hamlet a prince was important because hanging over all the family drama is a fight for the crown. And in looking at gossip magazines, most specifically at Princess Diana’s tabloid-bait sons, it occurred to me that the royals still make great press. In deciding to do this, I wondered what it would be like to be the nonroyal girlfriend of one of them, and to feel the pressure not only of everyone judging you so publicly, but of the prospect of becoming a queen.

Many of the scenes are direct translations of Shakespeare’s words. Making Shakespeare’s lines sound modern was no easy task, and my friends, agent, editor, and copy editors all called me out when the words of the characters sounded too old-fashioned. At times, I made a joke of it, like Ophelia saying, “Primrose path of dalliance.” She’s trying to sound smart while talking to her brother, but then I felt I had to follow it with a colloquial translation so readers knew what I meant. Other times, I had to get a bit creative, like Hamlet scribbling “To be” and “Not to be” on a notebook— a line I’d originally cut because having him say it out loud sounded too clunky.

I considered changing character names. However, I decided to keep them because I wanted you, the reader, to recognize the characters and see how their actions matched the original. Although it’s odd to read “Laertes,” “Horatio,” etc., in a modern context, I hoped that readers would grow accustomed to it. I tried to keep the characters similar, too, like having soldiers’ names become the guards and so on. For Ophelia’s friends, however, I used contemporary names to make a distinction between these two worlds.

While I took liberties with the story— namely that Ophelia stays alive— I tried to stay true to the general structure of Hamlet. The interviews, of course, were not in the original, but the basic plot follows the structure of the play. One challenge was that Ophelia is in just a few scenes of Hamlet, so I had to think of ways for her to see, or at least hear about, the action. Technology helped. I also had Hamlet bring her with him to scenes she did not originally witness. Hamlet begins after the death of his father and remarriage of his mother, but I wanted readers to see what things were like before their world fell apart. I also added a life for Ophelia outside of the castle— an interest in art, attraction to other boys, and friends not afraid to comment on her behavior and choices. I wanted to give her a depth that Shakespeare did not. But heck, his play isn’t called Ophelia, so I can’t blame the guy.

My purpose in writing Falling for Hamlet, besides entertaining myself in asking the many “what if” questions, was the hope that readers would become more interested in Hamlet. If you’re familiar with the original, I hope this book has provided you with an entertaining twist on a great story. If you don’t know Hamlet, I encourage you to see it. Note I didn’t say “read it.” As I say to my students, Shakespeare is meant to be performed, not read. Do as you like, but even I, who do this a lot, am challenged by the original text. My recommendation: If you can’t go see a stage production, or even if you can, rent one of the many great movie versions— or a few different ones. Hamlet is a story people love to tell in their own way, so whether you see the modern one, an Elizabethan one, the uncut version, or one that’s super short, enjoy. Then try another Shakespeare. And another. The man could tell a story.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS



To Jonathan, who told me “once upon a road trip” to start writing down the stories I had in my head, and who kept me going when I considered giving up.

To my sweet girls, who were sometimes quiet enough for me to write.

Love to my parents, who first introduced me to Shakespeare, and who made me appreciate learning of all kinds.

Thanks to the Rays, the best in-laws a girl could ask for.

To Amy, who made me admit to being a writer, and to Kim, for taking me under her writerly wing.

Thanks to my friends and family for support and encouragement. Special thanks to Shari, who liked it first, and Keren, Amanda, Valerie, Phyllis, and Billy for approving and suggesting. And love to Lauren, my trusty reader who never hesitates to tell me when something sucks.

To my Westlake teachers and Tufts drama professors, who gave me an incredible education in literature and in life.

To the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival for inspiring me annually with awesomely creative takes on great works, and to D.C.’s Shakespeare Theatre Company for inspiring a new way to look at Hamlet.

Thanks to my agent, Ammi-Joan Paquette, who believed this would happen, and to my editor, Alvina Ling, for making it so. Thanks, as well, to Pam, Bethany, and Connie at Little, Brown for assistance and for suggestions that helped improve the story.

To my teacher buddies, who spend each day trying to make kids better thinkers, readers, learners, and people.

And to my students for making me a better thinker, reader, learner, and person. I wrote this for you as part of my ongoing quest to make you love Shakespeare as much as I do.