The Magical Verb To Be: "To Be or Not To Be"
The Magical Verb To Be: "To Be or Not To Be" is one of a pair of infinity ring sculptures inspired by an article by Starr Goode.
A work in progress, "To Be or Not To Be" is shown here in greenware state.
18" x 18" x 4"
"The Magical Verb To Be"
by Starr Goode
The magical verb to be is the most powerful verb in the English language. It is a description of all states of being and the core verb of the language. In its infinitive form, it is used in the most famous soliloquy in English in the middle of Shakespeareâs most famous play Hamlet. The verb is also used in another speech in the last scene of the play. We shall look at how far a verb can go.
âTo be, or not to beâ begins Hamletâs soliloquy (III.1.56-89). When we last saw Hamlet at the end of Act II, his spirits were buoyed by a plan - his decision to test the King by the play within the play which will parody Claudiusâ murder of King Hamlet. He had earlier condemned himself for his inaction as a ârogue and peasant slaveâ (II.2.547) and wondered if he was a coward. Act III begins with spies. The King asks Rosencrantz and Guildenstern if their spying on Hamlet has revealed âwhy he puts on this confusionâ (III.1.2). It shows the King is suspicious that Hamlet is play-acting, so the King and Polonius arrange to spy (âlawful espialsâ III.1.33) on the poor Prince themselves, using Ophelia as a prop with a prayer book. In a chilling aside, the King reveals his guilt to the audience (âHow smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! ... O, heavy burden!â III.1.49-52). He and Polonius exit. Hamlet arrives and asks himself the famous question.
âTo be, or not to be - that is the questionâ. He does not phrase it - to do or not to do - that would not be Hamlet. Nor does he have an answer. It is fitting that the words are addressed to himself, his interior world which is the natural world of his temperament which shapes the entire play. He then develops the question: âWhether âtis nobler in the mind to suffer/ the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles/ And by opposing end them.â Is it more exalted in character to endure suffering (to be) or to take action (not to be) against troubles in order to end them? Fortune (often mentioned in the play) has been outrageous to Hamlet - it shattered his world: murdered father, incestuous mother, inheritance usurped, visitation by a ghost. No action of his brought these things into being. He describes such a fate as a sea of troubles. No wonder itâs hard to act - who could take on the sea?
Throughout the entire soliloquy, Hamletâs critical intellect shifts . Shakespeare uses dashes for a rapid progression of thoughts. After thoughts of action comes thoughts of death (âTo dieâ), then a more palatable image of death, âto sleepâ then a stark image of finality - âNo moreâ. Now the meaning of to be or not to be deepens: to live or to die. âAnd by a sleep to say we end/ the heartache and the thousand natural shocks/ That flesh is heir to. âTis a consummation/ Devoutly to be wished.â Here we have traveled far from the noble endurance of the first lines. It is the natural heritage of humans to suffer, and Hamlet wants out, and he makes it sound like a marriage vow. He does not talk about how death is to come. We know from his very first soliloquy, even before the ghostâs revelation of a âmurder most foulâ (I.5.27), that Hamlet has had suicide on his mind (âthat the Everlasting had not fixed/ His canon âgainst self-slaughterâ I.2130-1).
Hamlet repeats his theme of âTo die, to sleepâ and adds a new element âto dreamâ which leads down another corridor (âAy, thereâs the rubâ) because the sleep of death may have nightmares. Suddenly, death is not a release, an intensely desired sleep, but a terror of the unknown. It is fearful enough to make us âshuffleâ (drag our feet), and âmust give us pauseâ to leave this life - âthis mortal coilâ. A coil is a spiral, like Hamletâs mind in this soliloquy, which circles round and round to new thoughts which touch and obliterate previous thoughts. Hamlet must âpauseâ midline in his contemplation about death or suicide, so naturally his thoughts turn back to life. The next five lines elaborate on âthousand natural shocksâ that humans must endure if they are to live the âcalamity of so long lifeâ. What follows is a list of injustices, all of which have happened to Hamlet: âThâoppressorâs wrongâ (Claudius, the murderer is King), âthe proud manâs contumelyâ (being told by the King his grief is âunmanlyâ I.2.6), âThe pangs of despised loveâ (Opheliaâs silent withdrawal), âthe lawâs delayâ (by moral rights, Hamlet should be king), âThe insolence of officeâ (Poloniusâ spying), âthe spurns/ That make patient merit of thâunworthy takesâ (the company of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!). All these injustices are posed as a question, âwho would bear the whips and scorns of time ... When he himself might make his quietus make/ With a bare bodkin?â. With a single dagger, one could release oneself from life.
Another question spirals round: why would we suffer the âfardelsâ of life, âgrunt and sweat under a weary life,/ But that the dread of something after deathâ? Now the sufferings of life are preferable to suicide. Death could be worse than life! The tone shifts in the next line, âThe undiscovered countryâ. This evokes the Age of Discovery that was part of Shakespeareâs epoch; it has a feeling of adventure, of challenge - âfrom whose bourn/ No traveller returnsâ. The rest of the line is a description of Hamletâs personality par excellence: âpuzzles the willâ.
Itâs all down hill from here. There will be no will to act. Thoughts confuse his will. Thoughts poison action. What started out as a meditation on endurance or action turns to thoughts of suicide, returns to thoughts of endurance, but now to endure is not something noble. It is something we do because âconscience does make cowards of us allâ. Now it isnât a question of mind versus action but that âthe pale cast of thoughtâ sickens the ânative hue of resolutionâ. Thus âenterprises of great pitch and momentâ have âtheir currents turn awry/ And lose the name of actionâ. Poor Hamlet, he doesnât even have action to lose but merely its name. The image is sickening - how the great current of an intended action loses all its force, bogged down by thought. In the beginning of the soliloquy, Hamlet at least allowed some value to the mind, but by the end he seems to worship action, lost to him, above thought. He is disgusted by his greatest gift - his own mind. He judges himself harshly, for what he is not, what he cannot do - kill himself or coldly plan a murder. The speech reveals Hamletâs internal landscape, cast in a nightmarish situation.
His private thoughts are interrupted by the sight of Ophelia and the soliloquy ends poignantly with Hamlet silently asking her to pray for him, sinner that he is (in thy orisons/ Be all my sins rememberedâ). Itâs all he can do.
With Fate at odds with personal desires, the two lovers talk. Hamlet realizes he is being spied upon and utters the brash âall but one shall liveâ (III.1.149). The King gets the message and âin quick determinationâ (III.1.169) decides to send Hamlet to England. Hamlet is gone for most of Act IV and returns to Denmark in Act V. We first see him in the graveyard scene commenting on the dusty fate of all that is mortal then leaping into Opheliaâs grave to fight with Laertes. The King calms Laertes by reminding him of their plot to murder Hamlet in a sword duel disguised as entertainment for the court.
The last scene of the play is long but the speech I want to focus on is short and important (V.2.213-18). It is Hamletâs last intimate exchange with Horatio, dear Horatio, the only person who has never betrayed him. It is fitting that Hamlet reveals his final state of mind to Horatio before he enters the public world of the court. Osrick, a courtier has just left, informing Hamlet of a wager the King has made with Laertes: six Barbary horses against six rapiers that âin a dozen passes between yourself and him he shall not exceed you three hitsâ (V.2.162-3). The two friends are then alone for the last time. Hamlet agrees to the duel but has a foreboding, âBut thou wouldst not think how ill allâs here about my heartâ (V.2.206). Horatio responds, âIf your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will say ... you are not fitâ (V.2.211-2).
Hamlet then begins his last private speech, rhyming Horatioâs âfitâ with âNot a Whitâ. Not a particle, not the least bit, don't change anything. This is a different Hamlet; he is resolved to act even though he has doubts - âWe defy auguryâ. We defy the omens. Has he at last become Hercules? Not a whit. It is a calmness, a new faith that has steadied him. He does not shred all the possibilities apart in his mind. âThere is a special providence in the fall of a sparrowâ. There is meaning and order in even the tiniest event. There is a divine force that guides all life. This is a beautiful, spiritually sustaining image.
What has happened to Hamlet since he returned to Denmark? For one thing, he did return, alive, something the King didnât plan for. His world view has been altered by an extraordinary series of coincidences. In Act V Hamlet tells Horatio his miraculous tale of escape from death. His intuition, âa kind of fightingâ (V.2.4) in his heart make him half dressed and in the dark, steal the Kingâs letters from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, unseal them and discover their malefic contents - âMy head should be struck offâ (V.2.26). While this is not soothing news, it does give Hamlet the concrete proof of the Kingâs evil he has longed for throughout the play. No more incorporeal ghosts or fleeting facial expressions; at last he has physical evidence in hand. This clarifies the situation for him. To kill Claudius would be justice and ânot to be damnedâ (V.2.68). Coincidence then follows coincidence. Hamlet just happens to be able to write like a statist so he can write a new letter to save himself; he just happens to have the old kingâs signet ring in his purse which just happens not to have been changed in the new regime. His ship just happens to be attacked by pirates and he, of course is the only one to board their ship. They just happen to be âthieves of mercyâ (IV.6.20) and bring him back to Denmark. Hamlet has faced death and misadventure and returns a different man. He says it precisely; âWhen our deep plots do pall, and that should learn us/ Thereâs a divinity that shapes our endsâ (V.2.8-9). All his plots failed, his inconsistencies left him in a state of inner agony. In the last act of the play, he comes to a new understanding of life and reconciles his puzzled will.
The next three sentences of Hamletâs speech form a unified thought: âIf it be now, âtis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come.â. If these are the conditions of life or death, why plan? Who can predict what to do? Notice the use of the verb to be throughout. This is a major change from the âTo be or not to beâ soliloquy. Hamletâs mind is not on the hamster wheel paralyzing him with ever subtler thoughts. He has abandoned plans as well as self-accusations. What will be will be. As there is no predicting life, there is no predicting death. He seems oddly at peace. What could be more calming than to come to terms with what earlier had been his greatest fear (âthe dread of something after death ... makes cowards of us allâ)?
This brings us to the next line: âThe readiness is allâ. He is in a state of receptivity and the potential of action. Earlier in the scene he says âmine is ready, now or whensoever, provided I be so able as nowâ (V.2.196-7). He is ready to fight the duel; he is ready for life and death. To be ready is to be everything. Itâs all a man can be.
The penultimate sentence in Hamletâs personal thoughts, refine what has gone before, âSince no man knows of aught he leaves, what isât to leave betimes?â. No one knows when they will die, so what if one leaves life early? Sadly we sense that Hamlet knows he is doomed. In his new state of being, he states what all humans know - death is a mystery but states it with a peace that few achieve. This is a matured attitude.
Finally there is his last intimate thought, a summing up of his philosophy from a mind that has explored much - âLet beâ. Before facing his death, before the King appears and he goes out to fulfill his heavy purpose, Hamlet has revealed an acceptance of himself, of life, and a faith in divine providence. Hamlet has answered his own question, âTo be or not to beâ with a different conjugation of the verb - âLet beâ.
A work in progress, "To Be or Not To Be" is shown here in greenware state.
18" x 18" x 4"
"The Magical Verb To Be"
by Starr Goode
The magical verb to be is the most powerful verb in the English language. It is a description of all states of being and the core verb of the language. In its infinitive form, it is used in the most famous soliloquy in English in the middle of Shakespeareâs most famous play Hamlet. The verb is also used in another speech in the last scene of the play. We shall look at how far a verb can go.
âTo be, or not to beâ begins Hamletâs soliloquy (III.1.56-89). When we last saw Hamlet at the end of Act II, his spirits were buoyed by a plan - his decision to test the King by the play within the play which will parody Claudiusâ murder of King Hamlet. He had earlier condemned himself for his inaction as a ârogue and peasant slaveâ (II.2.547) and wondered if he was a coward. Act III begins with spies. The King asks Rosencrantz and Guildenstern if their spying on Hamlet has revealed âwhy he puts on this confusionâ (III.1.2). It shows the King is suspicious that Hamlet is play-acting, so the King and Polonius arrange to spy (âlawful espialsâ III.1.33) on the poor Prince themselves, using Ophelia as a prop with a prayer book. In a chilling aside, the King reveals his guilt to the audience (âHow smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! ... O, heavy burden!â III.1.49-52). He and Polonius exit. Hamlet arrives and asks himself the famous question.
âTo be, or not to be - that is the questionâ. He does not phrase it - to do or not to do - that would not be Hamlet. Nor does he have an answer. It is fitting that the words are addressed to himself, his interior world which is the natural world of his temperament which shapes the entire play. He then develops the question: âWhether âtis nobler in the mind to suffer/ the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles/ And by opposing end them.â Is it more exalted in character to endure suffering (to be) or to take action (not to be) against troubles in order to end them? Fortune (often mentioned in the play) has been outrageous to Hamlet - it shattered his world: murdered father, incestuous mother, inheritance usurped, visitation by a ghost. No action of his brought these things into being. He describes such a fate as a sea of troubles. No wonder itâs hard to act - who could take on the sea?
Throughout the entire soliloquy, Hamletâs critical intellect shifts . Shakespeare uses dashes for a rapid progression of thoughts. After thoughts of action comes thoughts of death (âTo dieâ), then a more palatable image of death, âto sleepâ then a stark image of finality - âNo moreâ. Now the meaning of to be or not to be deepens: to live or to die. âAnd by a sleep to say we end/ the heartache and the thousand natural shocks/ That flesh is heir to. âTis a consummation/ Devoutly to be wished.â Here we have traveled far from the noble endurance of the first lines. It is the natural heritage of humans to suffer, and Hamlet wants out, and he makes it sound like a marriage vow. He does not talk about how death is to come. We know from his very first soliloquy, even before the ghostâs revelation of a âmurder most foulâ (I.5.27), that Hamlet has had suicide on his mind (âthat the Everlasting had not fixed/ His canon âgainst self-slaughterâ I.2130-1).
Hamlet repeats his theme of âTo die, to sleepâ and adds a new element âto dreamâ which leads down another corridor (âAy, thereâs the rubâ) because the sleep of death may have nightmares. Suddenly, death is not a release, an intensely desired sleep, but a terror of the unknown. It is fearful enough to make us âshuffleâ (drag our feet), and âmust give us pauseâ to leave this life - âthis mortal coilâ. A coil is a spiral, like Hamletâs mind in this soliloquy, which circles round and round to new thoughts which touch and obliterate previous thoughts. Hamlet must âpauseâ midline in his contemplation about death or suicide, so naturally his thoughts turn back to life. The next five lines elaborate on âthousand natural shocksâ that humans must endure if they are to live the âcalamity of so long lifeâ. What follows is a list of injustices, all of which have happened to Hamlet: âThâoppressorâs wrongâ (Claudius, the murderer is King), âthe proud manâs contumelyâ (being told by the King his grief is âunmanlyâ I.2.6), âThe pangs of despised loveâ (Opheliaâs silent withdrawal), âthe lawâs delayâ (by moral rights, Hamlet should be king), âThe insolence of officeâ (Poloniusâ spying), âthe spurns/ That make patient merit of thâunworthy takesâ (the company of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!). All these injustices are posed as a question, âwho would bear the whips and scorns of time ... When he himself might make his quietus make/ With a bare bodkin?â. With a single dagger, one could release oneself from life.
Another question spirals round: why would we suffer the âfardelsâ of life, âgrunt and sweat under a weary life,/ But that the dread of something after deathâ? Now the sufferings of life are preferable to suicide. Death could be worse than life! The tone shifts in the next line, âThe undiscovered countryâ. This evokes the Age of Discovery that was part of Shakespeareâs epoch; it has a feeling of adventure, of challenge - âfrom whose bourn/ No traveller returnsâ. The rest of the line is a description of Hamletâs personality par excellence: âpuzzles the willâ.
Itâs all down hill from here. There will be no will to act. Thoughts confuse his will. Thoughts poison action. What started out as a meditation on endurance or action turns to thoughts of suicide, returns to thoughts of endurance, but now to endure is not something noble. It is something we do because âconscience does make cowards of us allâ. Now it isnât a question of mind versus action but that âthe pale cast of thoughtâ sickens the ânative hue of resolutionâ. Thus âenterprises of great pitch and momentâ have âtheir currents turn awry/ And lose the name of actionâ. Poor Hamlet, he doesnât even have action to lose but merely its name. The image is sickening - how the great current of an intended action loses all its force, bogged down by thought. In the beginning of the soliloquy, Hamlet at least allowed some value to the mind, but by the end he seems to worship action, lost to him, above thought. He is disgusted by his greatest gift - his own mind. He judges himself harshly, for what he is not, what he cannot do - kill himself or coldly plan a murder. The speech reveals Hamletâs internal landscape, cast in a nightmarish situation.
His private thoughts are interrupted by the sight of Ophelia and the soliloquy ends poignantly with Hamlet silently asking her to pray for him, sinner that he is (in thy orisons/ Be all my sins rememberedâ). Itâs all he can do.
With Fate at odds with personal desires, the two lovers talk. Hamlet realizes he is being spied upon and utters the brash âall but one shall liveâ (III.1.149). The King gets the message and âin quick determinationâ (III.1.169) decides to send Hamlet to England. Hamlet is gone for most of Act IV and returns to Denmark in Act V. We first see him in the graveyard scene commenting on the dusty fate of all that is mortal then leaping into Opheliaâs grave to fight with Laertes. The King calms Laertes by reminding him of their plot to murder Hamlet in a sword duel disguised as entertainment for the court.
The last scene of the play is long but the speech I want to focus on is short and important (V.2.213-18). It is Hamletâs last intimate exchange with Horatio, dear Horatio, the only person who has never betrayed him. It is fitting that Hamlet reveals his final state of mind to Horatio before he enters the public world of the court. Osrick, a courtier has just left, informing Hamlet of a wager the King has made with Laertes: six Barbary horses against six rapiers that âin a dozen passes between yourself and him he shall not exceed you three hitsâ (V.2.162-3). The two friends are then alone for the last time. Hamlet agrees to the duel but has a foreboding, âBut thou wouldst not think how ill allâs here about my heartâ (V.2.206). Horatio responds, âIf your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will say ... you are not fitâ (V.2.211-2).
Hamlet then begins his last private speech, rhyming Horatioâs âfitâ with âNot a Whitâ. Not a particle, not the least bit, don't change anything. This is a different Hamlet; he is resolved to act even though he has doubts - âWe defy auguryâ. We defy the omens. Has he at last become Hercules? Not a whit. It is a calmness, a new faith that has steadied him. He does not shred all the possibilities apart in his mind. âThere is a special providence in the fall of a sparrowâ. There is meaning and order in even the tiniest event. There is a divine force that guides all life. This is a beautiful, spiritually sustaining image.
What has happened to Hamlet since he returned to Denmark? For one thing, he did return, alive, something the King didnât plan for. His world view has been altered by an extraordinary series of coincidences. In Act V Hamlet tells Horatio his miraculous tale of escape from death. His intuition, âa kind of fightingâ (V.2.4) in his heart make him half dressed and in the dark, steal the Kingâs letters from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, unseal them and discover their malefic contents - âMy head should be struck offâ (V.2.26). While this is not soothing news, it does give Hamlet the concrete proof of the Kingâs evil he has longed for throughout the play. No more incorporeal ghosts or fleeting facial expressions; at last he has physical evidence in hand. This clarifies the situation for him. To kill Claudius would be justice and ânot to be damnedâ (V.2.68). Coincidence then follows coincidence. Hamlet just happens to be able to write like a statist so he can write a new letter to save himself; he just happens to have the old kingâs signet ring in his purse which just happens not to have been changed in the new regime. His ship just happens to be attacked by pirates and he, of course is the only one to board their ship. They just happen to be âthieves of mercyâ (IV.6.20) and bring him back to Denmark. Hamlet has faced death and misadventure and returns a different man. He says it precisely; âWhen our deep plots do pall, and that should learn us/ Thereâs a divinity that shapes our endsâ (V.2.8-9). All his plots failed, his inconsistencies left him in a state of inner agony. In the last act of the play, he comes to a new understanding of life and reconciles his puzzled will.
The next three sentences of Hamletâs speech form a unified thought: âIf it be now, âtis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come.â. If these are the conditions of life or death, why plan? Who can predict what to do? Notice the use of the verb to be throughout. This is a major change from the âTo be or not to beâ soliloquy. Hamletâs mind is not on the hamster wheel paralyzing him with ever subtler thoughts. He has abandoned plans as well as self-accusations. What will be will be. As there is no predicting life, there is no predicting death. He seems oddly at peace. What could be more calming than to come to terms with what earlier had been his greatest fear (âthe dread of something after death ... makes cowards of us allâ)?
This brings us to the next line: âThe readiness is allâ. He is in a state of receptivity and the potential of action. Earlier in the scene he says âmine is ready, now or whensoever, provided I be so able as nowâ (V.2.196-7). He is ready to fight the duel; he is ready for life and death. To be ready is to be everything. Itâs all a man can be.
The penultimate sentence in Hamletâs personal thoughts, refine what has gone before, âSince no man knows of aught he leaves, what isât to leave betimes?â. No one knows when they will die, so what if one leaves life early? Sadly we sense that Hamlet knows he is doomed. In his new state of being, he states what all humans know - death is a mystery but states it with a peace that few achieve. This is a matured attitude.
Finally there is his last intimate thought, a summing up of his philosophy from a mind that has explored much - âLet beâ. Before facing his death, before the King appears and he goes out to fulfill his heavy purpose, Hamlet has revealed an acceptance of himself, of life, and a faith in divine providence. Hamlet has answered his own question, âTo be or not to beâ with a different conjugation of the verb - âLet beâ.