Saturday, February 21, 2009

What Is Love? (Baby Don't Hurt Me... Don't Hurt Me... No More...)

“Well, you see, there are those people you love and those people you’d almost rather be with”

Nora’s comment in Act II presents the reader with a very provocative question: in short, what is love? Nora’s response to this question, as would be inferred from the text of the play, would perhaps not even suffice as an answer; it would probably go something like this:

“I don’t know… but Torvald loves me.”

Her definition of love seems to be based on the attention that her husband (hereafter referred to either as ‘he’ or as ‘Big T’) gives her, as can most readily be seen in the numerous epithets with which he refers to her, and on the control and authority that he exhibits as her husband. When Nora offers an example to Dr. Rank of the line that I first quoted, she references the love that she held for her father; just as her love for Big T rests upon her respect for his position of manly husband power, so too was her love for her father based upon his authority. Her notion of love is therefore constructed as a feeling of attachment through submission. In this context, it would of course make sense for her to believe she loves Big T yet at the same time wish to be around other people with whom she truly feels a personal bond.
Of equal importance in the interpretation of this work is our own answer to this incredibly simple, yet excruciatingly complex (ooo… how paradoxical), question. Our own view effects how we see Nora and Big T in the context of this play; the differentiation of familial love, fraternal love, and romantic love helps us to begin to understand the problem, but ultimately a definite answer is elusive. How do we know when we are in love? What is it that tells us we are in love? Is love natural and spontaneous, or do we create it for ourselves, within ourselves? Is love permanent? What determines whom we love? The answers of course are subjectively based upon our own interpretations of our own worlds. (353)

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Hamlet on Zoloft

Depression has always been a mysterious force that evokes the curiosity and sympathy of the inflicted subject’s fellow man. Literature specifically has always held a particular interest in the psychological state because it presents such a powerful and fundamental challenge to the human identity and existence. Despite this profound fascination, mankind still does not truly understand the mechanisms behind this plague of soul; countless theories have been developed and propounded, but no concrete understanding has yet taken hold. We are therefore forced to focus on the condition’s symptoms and effects, and, without sufficient means to explain what we see, we jump to conclusions and create our own explanations (perhaps in itself one of the greatest failings of human development), the most common of which trend towards the label of madness.
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, the protagonist in Shakespeare’s tragedy by that name, is not mad. Rather, he suffers from a depression, probably in the form of dysthymia or melancholic depression, that the reader, in want of some explanation, names madness. Hamlet exhibits all the major signs of depression in the play: a low, depressed mood; a lack of pleasure; a deep view of hopelessness and self-worthlessness; and even suicidal tendencies. As early as his soliloquy in Act I, Scene II, Hamlet proclaims his suicidal feelings and his oppressive, hopeless mood:

O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God, God,
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world! (129-134)

In Act II, Scene II, Hamlet outlines his profound lack of pleasure that becomes apathy towards the world: “the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory… it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors…. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me—no, nor woman neither” (272-279). Slightly before these lines, Hamlet states that he “could be bounded in a nutshell and count [himself] a king of infinite space, were it not that [he has] bad dreams” (238-239); here he hints at the hopeless prison in which he feels himself incarcerated by his depression. Hamlet expresses his frustration with his own apathy and his self-hatred later in Act II, Scene II, by calling himself “a rogue and peasant slave” (477) and “an ass” (510) because he “can say nothing” (496) about his father’s demand for revenge; he despises himself because his depression has made him apathetic to the point of a complete lack of motivation. Furthermore, in that same soliloquy in Act II, Scene II, Hamlet even admits his depression by comparing himself to the players, who can feign the emotions that the prince feels so strongly; by asking “[w]hat would he do / Had he the motive and the cue for passion / That I have?” Hamlet acknowledges his intensity of emotion that, when combined with his other indications of his mindset, signifies depression. Hamlet’s infamous ‘To be, or not to be’ soliloquy in Act III, Scene I, of course further demonstrates his suicidality, and he also rejects all comfort, for in conversation with Horatio, Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz he counters all their efforts to offer solace to the prince (the best example lies in approximately lines 235-245 in Act II, Scene II). All these signs point not to a condition that is a product of a certain series of events or madness, but rather to a depression that is inherent in the prince’s psychological and emotional system. Hamlet’s acts may still seem point to an irrationality that is associated with madness, but such interpretations can be dispelled by an examination of Hamlet’s statement in Act II, Scene II, that he is “but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly [he knows] a hawk from a handsaw” (330-331). Also, though his relationship with Ophelia may seem to similarly hint at the irrationality of madness, when the reader acknowledges the depression under which Hamlet is subject, his actions in regards to her can be seen as a product of his emotional and psychological state. Hamlet, therefore, suffers from a form of depression that he cannot control and that is effectively part of himself; his symptoms point to dysthymia or melancholic depression, both of which are chemical in nature and, though they respond to outside stimuli, are essentially inherent to Hamlet’s existence.
Had Hamlet been a real character, and had he been alive in the modern world of medicinal wonders, he undoubtedly would be prescribed an antidepressant of some form. Due to the indicated nature of Hamlet’s depression, it is very possible that he had been depressed since his childhood, and the condition could be perhaps be alleviated with the better (though by no means perfect) modern understanding of the state. As we begin to understand the nature of Hamlet’s psychological and emotional scourge, we can extend our views to other texts, such as William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, in which Quentin Compson undoubtedly suffers not from madness, but from a form of major depression.

A few notes… Zoloft is an antidepressant; I would encourage my readers to briefly read the Wikipedia pages on dysthymia, melancholic depression, and major depression in order to gain a better understanding of the terms used in my entry; and yes, suicidality is a real word. (898)