"Hamnet" by Maggie O'Farrell

A book about Shakespeare's son and a mother who loved the Earth.

As a student of literature and now as a teacher, people often assume that William Shakespeare’s works dominate our every living breath. It does not.

The bard of poetry and drama was a part of my academic literary journey only twice- once in the looming madness of Macbeth and another time in the scheming jealousy of honest Iago in Othello.

I suspect my students will study him only in passing, if at all. Thus Jonson’s attribution of Shakespeare as “…not of an Age, but for All Time” may come into strong dispute in the era of cancel-culture.

This is not a book about Shakespeare, but if not for him few would have picked it up. “What’s in a name?” one may quip, but in the case of Hamnet, everything.

Agnes Hathaway

The book does not mention Shakespeare (or William, or Will, or Bill, as I am sure some of my students may call him) once but the other characters are named in plenty. While a lot of the literary lines revolve around the young Hamnet and his sister Judith, I am of the opinion that the book is truly that of the mother.

A girl’s love, a woman’s marriage, a mother’s heartache, and nature’s lover all lie embraced in the quaint and earthy Agnes. Through her description of the English countryside, I found myself teleported to those distant Isles. I found in them beauty and the soft ache of sadness, as I am sure you will too.

I have been trying to make a conscious attempt to read more works penned by women and in the portrayal of Agnes’ view of the world as opposed to Shakespeare’s, O’Farrell has proven just why more women should be read more often.

Academic Shakespeare v/s Literary Shakespeare

When my peers were working on their masters’ research dissertations, a classmate worked on Shakespeare, applying a fascinating psychological tool to a few of his villains. At this attempt, one of my professors quipped rather whimsically, “Oh! Is there still something left to be done on Shakespeare?”

Academics may have wrung him dry, either by criticizing him through the School of Resentment or by deifying him, some even going as far as to attribute to Shakespeare the very Invention of the Human, itself.

However, having read this book I now feel that the next best way to explore Shakespeare is through such literary routes. Rewriting him, reinterpreting him, taking his characters, and pulling them forcefully to the contemporary era (as Vishal Bharadwaj does exceptionally well) are all very valid means to enjoy the words of the poet.

This novel presents a very romantic view- that a father grieving for his son would immortalize him in a play that would be remembered for nearly half a millennium after his son’s death. Do read it to find within it so much more than just that.

Besides, you need not change the name of my newsletter to follow it like Shakespeare did to Hamlet. I know offerings have been thin as of late but numerous books are on the cusp of being finished and I suspect July will be a good month for reading. Do keep your eyes peeled on the inbox for a possible update.

I will leave you with a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. It is composed entirely of words written by Dr Samuel Johnson in praise of Shakespeare. Quite unsurprisingly, it reads like a love song-

Shall I compare thee to a mirror,

Reflecting back only virtues best.

For you have succeeded to stir

A stew left untasted by the rest.

I see you approaching, my beloved,

I glance at your stride.

You have excited in me

Laughter and sorrow alike.

Yet I return,

Thirsty for more,

Eager for the words in store

That you hone-

Not with skill; but with instinct.

I just pretend to be critical,

To be snobbish is oh so dull.

I try not to be cast away as an admirer,

But embraced as a lover.

For I have seen in you

A mine of diamonds and gold,

I, I decided to be bold,

The ones before me were hesitant

Impurities and minerals they didn’t wish to hunt.

Others pine for a garden near?

But I,

I want to climb upon the oak

That shelters roses and myrtles alike.

Of all the necessary evils, my love,

I choose to alter time,

I yearn for it.

To raise you above the wit you pursued,

To chuckle at your quibbles,

And admonish you as you procrastinate and doubt,

Yes. I seek clout,

Can you blame me?

For your soul is the largest

And most comprehensible,

Of all the poets of yore,

Do excuse me,

I’d like to extend that flirty metaphor.

Alas.

We are separated

By the sands of time,

And upon that beach

The stream of fate washes

The dissoluble fabric

Of the other poets.

My love, however,

Is the rock that stands

Adamant and hard.

I shall wait for you upon that pier,

My dearest, William Shakespeare.

-NKD

(Inspired by ‘Preface to Shakespeare’ and using the phrases employed by Dr Samuel Johnson to ‘critique’ the poet. Apologies for the naughty tone. I’m not usually this crass but the excerpts from the essay when taken out of context certainly give this effect.)