My Most Beloved Fictional Characters [Part 2]

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and I promise to work even harder!

Hello, dear reader! As promised, I’m back with another post on fictional characters! Writing about them is my hobby, and if you let me ramble on and on, I might never stop… anyways, last week I wrote about characters from books and manga—this time, I shall write about William Shakespeare’s characters. This post is centred around Portia from “The Merchant of Venice” [she’s one of Shakespeare’s most iconic female characters, and has garnered much critical acclaim]; Viola from “Twelfth Night” [I love her. I really do. Twelfth Night is a pretty amazing play]; and Hamlet from “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark” [I’ve always liked Shakespeare’s tragedies more than his comedies, and The Tragedy of Hamlet is one of my favourite tragedies. Of course, “to be, or not to be?” is an iconic line, but apart from that, the play shows us the emotional complexities of human nature very well]. I hope you enjoy reading this article!

Portia:

There’s a lot that can be said about Portia. As the female protagonist of The Merchant of Venice, she is introduced to the audience as the rich, sharp-witted, and extremely beautiful heiress of Belmont. She is depicted as having a very close relationship with her companion, Nerissa.  Her late father, wanting nothing less than the best for his wonderfully accomplished daughter, devised a lottery for her many suitors; this lottery gives them the chance to choose between three caskets [gold, silver, and lead]. Should they choose the correct casket, they shall win her hand in marriage. If they choose the incorrect the incorrect casket, they must depart immediately, never reveal to anyone which casket they chose, and never seek another woman’s hand in marriage [pretty harsh, huh?]. Since the beginning, there’s this “forbidden fruit” vibe to her. She rejects all her potential suitors, favouring a young and handsome [but rather prodigal] Venetian noble, soldier and scholar, Bassanio. She’s somewhat superstitious, referring to the Prince of Morocco as “The Devil” [not in his hearing, obviously]; I wasn’t pleased with her here—everyone has their faults, yes, but I’m not going to excuse this.

The theme of cross-dressing, which is often seen in Shakespeare’s plays, is a very prominent part of The Merchant of Venice [… for some reason, it’s always only the women who cross-dress though]. Well, Bassanio manages to choose the correct casket, thereby earning himself Portia’s hand; sadly, it’s not happily ever after for them. It is soon revealed that Bassanio’s bosom friend, Antonio, who’d taken a loan from of three thousand ducats from a cruel and vindictive money-lender called Shylock [in order to finance Bassanio’s travel expenses], is now in deep danger as he is unable to repay the money; according to the agreement between him and Shylock, the former will have to sacrifice a pound of flesh. This unpleasant news puts Portia’s sharp brain cells to work; unlike Bassanio, she does not panic. As soon as Bassanio leaves for Venice, she sends her servant to Padua, to seek the advice of her cousin Bellario, a well-renowned lawyer. Determined to wrest Antonio’s life from Shylock’s clutches, she disguises herself as a man and assumes the role of a lawyer’s apprentice [taking on the name of “Balthazar”], before travelling to Venice with Nerissa [who is disguised as a clerk]. She then proceeds to swiftly thwart Shylock’s evil intentions; in spite of her lack of formal legal training, she uses her wits and her eloquent language to turn the tables in her favour, making her famous “quality of mercy” speech and moving almost everyone present to tears [it has no effect on Shylock, but she finds another way to defeat him]. Using the tactics of a “Philadelphia lawyer”, she focuses on the minute details and loopholes, and eventually declares that while Shylock is entitled to his pound of flesh, he can only extract flesh, not blood. Should he spill a single drop of Antonio’s blood, all his property will be confiscated. Shylock is soundly defeated; Portia has single-handedly saved Antonio’s life!

This is why I’m so awed by her character. [Honestly, the men in this play seem so lame, especially when compared to her]; however, her character, critics argue, has also been used to highlight the fact that unjust arguments can be won through eloquence, loopholes, and technicalities, regardless of whether they’re morally correct or not. Food for thought, huh? What do you think?

Viola:

Oh dear, I could talk about Viola all day, every day! I admire her very much, and she is one of Shakespeare’s greatest creations [even if she does have to cross-dress to protect herself. Seriously, Shakespeare…]. I have a feeling that Shakespeare had a lot of fun while writing her dialogues; she displays great intelligence, wit, and wisdom [besides, she’s calm and level-headed. Wise beyond her years]. Viola is the protagonist of Twelfth Night, and her actions in the first scene set the play into motion; she is introduced to the audience as a young lady of Messaline. She has been shipwrecked on the coast of Illyria—her twin brother was on the same ship, but they have been separated, and she does not know whether he is alive or dead. The Sea Captain who rescued her informs her that the place is governed by the virtuous Duke Orsino, who is in love with the beautiful Countess Olivia; Viola decides to serve her, but upon learning that Olivia is a recluse, she dresses up as a lad named Cesario, determined to serve the Duke. She becomes his pageboy and closest advisor.

Twelfth Night has a very deep, meaningful message about the differences between love and infatuation; you’ll see why this is relevant shortly. As Viola [or perhaps I should call her Cesario for now] is quite silver-tongued, Orsino entrusts her to carry his dramatic messages of love to Olivia, who has steadfastly been rejecting him. “Cesario” performs her duty faithfully, passing messages back and forth between Olivia and Orsino, but this eventually puts her in a bit of a fix, as Olivia [like everyone else around her] has mistaken her for a boy, and has—supposedly—fallen in love with her [!!!]. Moreover, while duty forces her to utilise all her persuasive skills to plead Orsino’s case to Olivia, she has fallen in love with the Duke herself, finding him to be a quiet, responsible, intelligent, and rational man—except when it comes to his infatuation with Olivia. It isn’t love; it’s infatuation. And both Viola and Olivia know it. Olivia gives Viola a ring as a present; Viola is torn between amusement and despair, as she can’t even reveal her true identity to Olivia. She concludes that only time can clear up the muddle and the love triangle her disguise has created.

The plot only gets thicker when Sebastian, Viola’s twin brother, arrives in Illyria with a pirate named Antonio [her brother is alive! Yaaay!]. Absolute chaos ensues, with people mistaking Sebastian for Viola and vice versa; their resemblance to each other is made more prominent by Viola’s disguise. The confusion simply keeps building until Sebastian and Viola [“Cesario”] come face-to-face for the first time, recognising each other at once [obviously, haha]. It is revealed that Olivia—who mistook Sebastian for Cesario—has secretly married him; Sebastian was obviously oblivious to the “love triangle”, and agreed to marry her simply because she is beautiful and wealthy [would you look at that? He’s daft, isn’t he?]. Orsino [finally] realises that he was never truly in love with Olivia; furthermore, he realises that Viola’s love for him is tenacious, pure, and true. Agreeing to love Olivia as his sister, he decides to take Viola as his wife once she discards his disguise. She’s worth ten of Olivia, and he knows it. [Well, happy late realisation, Duke Orsino…].

It is noteworthy that, while Viola is the play’s protagonist, her real name is not spoken by any character [including herself] until the final scene of the play, when she reveals her true identity.

Isn’t her character rich and intriguing? My heart’s overflowing with love for her right now [but you probably know that already, haha]. I’d like to know what you think of her, too!

Hamlet:

Alright-y! Before I begin talking about Hamlet [who is perhaps the most depressed and unstable character ever], let me clarify that I do not like him as a person; as a character, he’s extremely interesting, and is definitely one of the most well-sketched and graphic characters in the history of literature, but as a person? Saying “he’s not a great person” is a massive understatement. He is depicted as someone who is always dithering; someone who does not know his own mind [the 1948 movie adaptation opens thus: “This is the tragedy of a man who could not make up his mind.” I agree whole-heartedly. The play opens with him being deeply depressed over his father’s sudden death, and his uncle Claudius’ ascension to the throne and unwise, hasty marriage to Hamlet’s mother, Queen Gertrude. One night, Hamlet’s father’s ghost appears to him, revealing that Claudius, due to avarice and a massive inferiority complex, killed him. He disappears after commanding Hamlet to avenge his death; this entire scene sets the tone for the rest of the play, as Hamlet contemplates the spirit’s words. Though he hates and despises his uncle, he is unable to bring himself to carry out the dreary revenge without any proof; he steadily begins descending into insanity. This leads to his soliloquy of “to be, or not to be”; he wonders about death and suicide, denouncing the pain and unfairness of life, but acknowledging that the alternative might be far worse. While his speech is gloomy and morbid, it is one of the most well-known speeches in literature [particularly due to its expressive language. I must say, it’s a very well-written piece of work, accurately showing Hamlet’s state of mind].

Eventually, Hamlet, determined to test whether his late father’s words regarding his uncle are true or not, puts on a play about the murder of a king in front of the royal court, and has his close companion Horatio gauge Claudius’ reaction. Claudius, feeling extremely guilty, quickly gets up and leaves half-way through the play, confirming Hamlet’s suspicions;  he follows his uncle into his chambers, but decides not to kill Claudius at that moment, as the latter has attempted to wash away his sin through confession [and Hamlet wants him to burn in purgatory].  Another attempt on Claudius’ life results in the accidental death of Polonius, a courtier [and the father of Hamlet’s love interest, Ophelia. Feminist critics have tried to reconstruct her character, as she is a very wronged character; no “voice” is given to her in the play, and she is only interpreted in relation to other characters, particularly Hamlet].

There has been much debate about the supernatural aspects of the play, and Hamlet’s views about them; in accordance with traditional religious beliefs, Hamlet meditates on the existence of purgatory, where King Hamlet claims he currently resides; it is said that the king suffers in purgatory [as he died without foreknowledge of his death]. As I stated before, Hamlet refuses to kill his uncle while the latter is confessing; he believes that killing him now would send him straight to heaven [gruesomely ironic, isn’t it? Claudius? Going to heaven?!]. These views are somewhat superstitious; indeed, the concept of purgatory was frowned upon by the Protestant Reformation and was purely a Catholic concept.  

Of course, Hamlet’s end is tragic; it’s Karma. It’s an endless cycle for him. It seems unjust that he should have to die after finally managing to avenge his father’s death [that’s right, Claudius receives his just deserts], but that’s just the way things are… this is why revenge is pointless, fruitless. Besides, there are so many other deaths as well… the one that struck me the hardest is the demise of poor, blameless Ophelia [it’s unclear whether she committed suicide or not—she was drowned, and that’s all we know]. As the play steadily draws to a dark conclusion, Hamlet is fatally stabbed by Ophelia’s brother, Laertes; he manages to retaliate and finishes Laertes off, before stabbing Claudius with Laertes’ poisoned sword. It’s a fitting end for that coward. Just before Hamlet dies, he hears his mother shrieking that she has been poisoned; she mistakenly drank a glass of poisoned wine which was meant for Hamlet. [What’s with this play and poison? Really though, poison is a motif throughout the play].

It was obvious since the beginning that Hamlet’s character arc would have such a terrible conclusion, but… he is one of my favourite characters, and I was filled with a surge of deep, deep bitterness after I’d finished the play. “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark” gave me more “feels” than any play or book.

[And in case you feel that the play is inconclusive due to the protagonist’s death, it’s not. With his dying breath, Hamlet declares Fortinbras, Prince of Norway, who is currently on his way to Denmark, heir to the throne].

Once again… what are your views? I’d love to know your thoughts on Hamlet!!

See you next time!