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Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' digs deep into mortality, not just as death but as an existential puzzle. The famous 'To be or not to be' soliloquy lays bare Hamlet’s torment—life’s suffering versus the unknown of death. He obsesses over skulls in the graveyard, musing on how even great figures like Yorick end as dust. The play shows death as inevitable yet mysterious, with ghosts, poison, and betrayal making it unpredictable. Hamlet’s hesitation isn’t cowardice but a wrestling match with mortality’s meaning—whether action or surrender holds more dignity.
The deaths of Ophelia, Polonius, and Lares aren’t just plot points; they mirror different facets of dying. Ophelia’s watery grave feels poetic, Polonius’s murder is senseless, and Laertes’ duel is fate catching up. Even Hamlet’s finale—bodies littering the stage—drives home death’s indiscriminate grip. Mortality here isn’t just physical; it’s the decay of trust, love, and sanity, making 'Hamlet' a masterclass on life’s fragility.
'Hamlet' treats mortality like a shadow trailing every character. The ghost of Hamlet’s father kicks it off—death isn’t peaceful but restless, demanding vengeance. Hamlet’s fake madness lets him drop truth bombs about how death levels kings and beggars alike. The play’s littered with irony: Claudius kills to gain power but can’t escape guilt, Gertrude drinks poison meant for another, and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern march to their doom unknowingly. It’s not just about dying; it’s how death exposes life’s illusions.
What sticks with me is how 'Hamlet' turns mortality into a mirror. Hamlet stares at Yorick’s skull and sees himself—jokes, genius, all rot the same. The play doesn’t glamorize death; it’s messy, sudden, or slow like Ophelia’s drowning. Even survival feels hollow: Horatio lives to tell the tale, but the weight of so much death lingers. Shakespeare makes mortality personal—not a concept but something breathing down your neck.
'Hamlet' makes death feel like a character itself. From the ghost’s first appearance to the final duel, mortality is ever-present. It’s in Hamlet’s jokes about worms feasting on politicians, in Ophelia’s flowers symbolizing life’s brevity. The play asks: if death’s certain, what gives life meaning? Revenge? Love? Art? The bodies pile up, but the questions outlast them.