Hamlet: A Freudian Theoretical Analysis

After arguments like Goethe’s and Snider’s were published came a wave in the early 1900s where psychological theories began to take firm root and have scientific backing behind their former assumptions. After publications of psychoanalysis were released, literary critics began to apply psychoanalysis to almost everything they could find, and what better a muse than Hamlet, which, as shown above, had already been widely debated on Hamlet’s psyche alone? An earlier one of these authors, Samuel Tannenbaum, wrote a 1917 article in which he applies Freudian theory to Hamlet’s sense of consciousness. He states that Hamlet has made a conscious decision to not kill his uncle; his moral human state could not bring him to be so villainous (Tannenbaum

239). However, it is Hamlet’s unconscious state that brings Tannenbaum to question Hamlet’s true motive for feigned madness. He believes that Hamlet’s delay is due to the doubt of the validity of the ghost, but that Hamlet’s doubt of the ghost comes from so deep in his subconscious that even he is unaware of it (Tannenbaum 242). This contradicts Snider’s earlier claim that Hamlet is too responsible to not be guilty, and this pattern reveals a conflict between writers then and now. In terms of Hamlet’s delay to action, earlier critics looked at a historical and objective viewpoint, not looking deeper, but wider. Critics of this time, in an alarming trend, tended to deeply analyze Hamlet but ignore all outer contexts.
However, after Eliot’s claim in the 1920s, critics in the 1940s and 1950s tended to revert back to the ways of context and how they apply to Hamlet the play, not Hamlet the character. James Feibleman takes not a psychological, but a philosophical approach to Hamlet, similar to that of Goethe in the late 1700s. Feibleman attempts to look at the philosophical context of Hamlet’s morality and Shakespeare’s philosophy itself, and concludes that all of these conflicting viewpoints, such as the ones already stated before Feibleman penned his article in 1947, may conflict, but share a common thread under the envelope of Shakespeare’s philosophy. He says that to critique Hamlet, one must look at its “real-life” context, which is precisely what authors such as Goethe and Snider discuss, albeit in too personal of a way. Feibleman states that “those who are conquered by the effect of the whole have little inclination toward the dissection of its parts. Yet that is just what the understanding of the play requires”. Feibleman’s argument is one of the most non-partisan in that it agrees with authors like Eliot and says that Hamlet is flawed and full of contradictions, but rather than criticize Shakespeare for it, one should embrace it, for contradictions are part of an author’s creativity (Feibleman 133). Feibleman’s point is more feasible than that of Goethe in terms of creativity, for rather than metaphorically discussing the character of Hamlet and his creativity, Feibleman criticizes through a wider scope and says that readers should look at Shakespeare’s intentions, not their own or Hamlet’s, to find the flaw in Hamlet’s action. This also easily illustrates a historical chain reaction of these criticisms; first, they discuss why they believe that Hamlet himself is mad, then explain it through a historical context, then explain it through Shakespeare’s eyes. Where else can this lead, and why is it taking us there?
Later criticisms reiterate the above four theories, but in more concrete ways.

This is partially due to the fact that as time went on, psychological theory became more and more developed. Robert Palfrey Utter attempts to defend Hamlet by looking at how Shakespeare rebelled against Elizabethan ethical norms, 30 years after T.S. Eliot supported a historical approach in 1920. He takes a risk as a critic by calling Hamlet a “hero” despite the commonly agreed upon statement that he is not. Utter connects history and morality by saying that Hamlet did not kill Claudius in an attempt to bring into light a new sense of morality which did not exist in the 1600s (Utter 138). He claims that, although Shakespeare could not go very public with his opinion during the heat of Elizabethan change due to his will to keep his reputation as an esteemed playwright, Shakespeare detested the medieval concept of dueling being synonymous with revenge, and anger always having to end in action (Utter 139). Utter completely annihilates the arguments of some earlier critics by basically asking “Yes, Hamlet did not act, but so what?” He argues that there does not have to be an end-all be-all in order for vengeance to be satisfied, although Elizabethan times suggested otherwise. Like Feibleman, he studies the perplexity of Shakespeare’s unknown philosophy and how it intertwines with many of Shakespeare’s other works, but that Hamlet delves into revenge the most deeply because the character of Hamlet sees revenge as more than revenge, that the theory of “eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth” is outdated, even for Elizabethan times, and that morality is slowly being destroyed with every extravagant and unnecessary duel (Utter

140).
Utter’s argument healthily illustrates various contexts of Hamlet, taking into account philosophy and morality without neglecting history. However, the reason that his article is most significant is that, for the first time, a true sense of humanity is being identified in Shakespeare’s text. One is no longer merely looking at Hamlet or Shakespeare or the Elizabethan time period; rather, they are looking to something much more unseen. Utter interjects on the reader’s perceptions and says that it is time to ignore or altogether eliminate the objective correlative (for which T.S. Eliot had so greatly advocated) and to instead look at the living beings around them and identify what it means for them and their moral state. Utter makes Hamlet’s motives universal as opposed to objective when he states that Hamlet’s struggle represents “a struggle between the lower morality, represented by everyone else in the play, and the higher morality, represented by Hamlet’s higher nature” (Utter 141).
Utter states that Hamlet’s tragic flaw enters when Hamlet begins to retrograde, and his higher nature falters when he kills Polonius instead of Claudius, in whom no one else in Denmark sees a real fault. Doing this makes Hamlet appear to be the villain who is full of vengeance for war against Claudius, thus representing the barbaric state of Elizabethan times that Utter criticized at the beginning of his article (Utter 142). However, just because Hamlet fell short of his attempt does not mean that his short-lived rebellion has no significance. As Utter had previously stated, Shakespeare obviously intended for this eclectic being to perform an equally eclectic work of nonconformity. What does this mean for humanity? It implies that although Hamlet had just fallen short of his actions, the people who read Hamlet’s contents do not have to do so. If Hamlet is such a relatable character, as Goethe and Snider suggest, than critics who want to emulate him should also aim to finish his quest; they should rebel against the current (whatever that time period may be) state of morality in order to make a better model of themselves, just as Hamlet has become such a perplex literary model.
Utter’s findings become more applicable when one considers critical articles written closer to today and the impact of a lasting story such as Hamlet. The 1960s and 1970s brought revolutions of change, while “millennials” of the 2000s have been criticized for not changing enough. Preston Thomas Roberts says that Hamlet is an “intermediate between the ancient and modern world.” Like Goethe previously stated in the late 1700s, the fact that Hamlet’s faults can be so generalized make them applicable to any time period, although later criticisms antiquate this more clearly (Roberts 351). Although Roberts’ argument is very biased since one of its aims is to connect Hamlet to the Passion of Christ, Roberts does make a fine point in saying that, like the Passion of Jesus Christ, the story of Hamlet has been told and analyzed throughout centuries. Hearers and readers of the stories decide whether its main character (whether it be Jesus or Hamlet) is worthy of being sympathized. Critics of the characters’ respective texts (The Bible and Hamlet) analyze which aspects of the text they want to take literally and which they want to take figuratively. Finally, they take their own interpretations of the texts and apply them to themselves, the authors, and, finally, humanity itself. Whether or not one believes in the story of Christ, Roberts’ argument is beneficial in understanding how Hamlet is a timeless story, and how timeless stories are meant to be interpreted.