SOURCE: Doubt, Keith. “Hamlet and Friendship.” Hamlet Studies 17, nos. 1/2 (summer/winter 1995): 54-62.

[In the following essay, Doubt examines three types of friendship in Hamlet: the loyal friendship that Horatio sustains with the Prince; the ultimately self-serving friendship extended by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern; and the friendship that the dying Laertes offers. In Doubt's view, Laertes's friendship is the most meaningful because it is the most charitable.]

“At this a back cloud of grief enveloped Laertes / And taking a dark double-handful of dust he poured it / Upon his grey head, while one groan followed another. As he watched his dear father, the heart of Odysseus was moved / And at once his nostrils tingled with keen compassion. / Quickly he went and took the old king in his arms / And kissed him.”

(The Odyssey of Homer, trans. Ennis Rees, Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1960).

There are two examples of friendship in Hamlet: one, very positive, the other, very negative. Hamlet's friend Horatio, on the one hand, is about as perfect a friend as anyone could ask for. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, on the other hand, are exceedingly imperfect in their friendship with Hamlet.

In Book VIII of the Nicomachean Ethics, Artistotle says that there are three kinds of friendship, each corresponding to a particular human affection. Some friendships are based on their reciprocal usefulness, some on their reciprocal pleasure, and some on their reciprocal commitment to justice. Friendships like the third, which are based on a mutual affection for virtue are the best, Aristotle says.¹

After seeing King Hamlet's ghost, Horatio says, “Let us impart what we have seen tonight unto young Hamlet … as needful in our loves, fitting our duty” (1.1).² Horatio's good will and loyalty toward Hamlet, his wishing for the advantage of Hamlet, is no doubt useful to Hamlet. But Horatio's friendship also gives pleasure to Hamlet. Horatio's empathy for Hamlet's bitter feelings over his mother's hasty marriage comforts Hamlet, “Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon” (1.2). More importantly, however, with respect to friendship, Hamlet admires Horatio as a paradigm of virtue. “Thou art e'en as just a man / As e'er my conversation coped withal” (3.2.53-54) and, later, “Give me that man / That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him / In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, / As I do thee” (3.2.72-75).

There is a second friendship in the play and that is Hamlet's relation to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. While the failure of this relation is powerfully dramatized, it is important not to forget that at the start Rosencrantz and Guildenstern embody one kind of friendship with Hamlet. Together the three share an affection for what is pleasurerable as can be witnessed in their lively exchange of sexual puns. Hamlet is being neither ironic nor superficial when he greets Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, “My excellent good friends! … Good lads, how to ye both?” (2.2.241-243). The point can be supported from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's side as well. After listening to Hamlet's derision later in the play, Rosencrantz remembers, “My lord, you once did love me” (3.2.342).

Having said this, we need to consider the clear-cut failure of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's friendship with Hamlet. Unlike Horatio, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are not good in themselves; they are hollow men. They are not committed to disclosing to Hamlet what, as a friend, Hamlet asks them to disclose. They confess to Hamlet that they were sent for by the king and queen not because it is their will to confess this truth but because of Hamlet's pressing questioning, “My lord, we were sent for” (2.2.308). Their betrayal of friendship is in order to gain the court's favor.

Rosencrantz queries Hamlet, “Take you me for a sponge, my lord?” (4.2.15), and Hamlet answers, “Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. … When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you and, sponge, you shall be dry again” (4.2.20-21). Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's ‘instrumental’ relation provokes Hamlet's rage, a rage that we perhaps all have felt but never so well articulated as when Hamlet upbraids them for trying to “pluck out the heart of [his] mystery” (3.2.371-79).

This paper discusses these two types of friendship and their effect on Hamlet. I shall argue that the function of each friendship is to mediate Hamlet's troubled relations to his parents. Horatio, for instance, mediates Hamlet's troubled relation to his father. Horatio makes Hamlet aware of the existence of the ghost of his father, which is the first step in healing Hamlet's grief. Concretely, Horatio helps Hamlet see his father's ghost. Metaphysically, Horatio helps Hamlet remember his father's character. “He was a man, take him for all in all. / I shall not look upon his like again” (1.2.197-198). “And fixed his eyes upon you?” (1.2.252), Hamlet asks Horatio. “Most constantly” (1.2.253). “I would I had been there,” replies Hamlet (1.2.254). Hamlet puts himself in the place of Horatio as a way to imagine his father's loving gaze upon himself. The paradox, of course, is that no one can experience a ghost concretely (only speculatively), and no one can see the metaphysical non-concretely (without sense perception).

Much as the function of Horatio's friendship is to mediate Hamlet's troubled relation to his father, the function of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's friendship is to mediate Hamlet's relation to his mother. The reasons that Gertrude sent for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were to try to restore her relation to her son, to remind her son of her good will toward him, and to let her son know that she has always wanted only what is good for him. While to see Gertrude through Hamlet's eyes is to see Gertrude in a despicable light, within the play itself Gertrude at no point forsakes her maternal love toward Hamlet.

Why did Gertrude marry Claudius? Was it only because of passionate love? It is doubtful. Gertrude herself suggests a more likely reason when she says, “Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, / and let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark” (1.2.72-73). Gertrude's marriage with her husband's brother was as much an expression of friendship toward Denmark as it was an expression of love toward Claudius. As Claudius declares publicly, she is “The imperial jointress to this warlike state” (1.2.9). At this critical time, Denmark, Gertrude perceives, needs befriending, not criticism, and she encourages young Hamlet to emulate the spirit of her example—not for her sake but for the sake of Hamlet's lost father and for Denmark's welfare. (This reading differs sharply from the well known study Hamlet and Oedipus by Ernest Jones, which formulates Gertrude's marriage as a passionate one which Hamlet, in view of the Oedipal complex, both abhors and envies.)

At the end of the play, Hamlet's personal tragedy is reinforced by Hamlet's political tragedy—after the sudden death of Hamlet, Denmark is suddenly lost to young Fortinbras, Prince of Norway. “I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, / Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me” (5.2.420-421). Young Fortinbras has acquired without a fight from Denmark what King Hamlet so gallantly won from Fortinbras's slain father. One cannot imagine a more bitter scenario from the perspective of old King Hamlet.

In mediating Hamlet's relation to his mother, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, of course, fail in their mission. The reason, however, is not the absence of the Queen's good will toward Hamlet, but the absence of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's good will. There is a difference in the King and Queen's respective use of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern: Claudius uses Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to fathom Hamlet's esoteric thoughts for his own selfish purpose; the Queen to influence Hamlet in a positive way.

It is interesting in this light to consider the advice that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern offer Hamlet, advice for his troubles that could easily have been from the Queen. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern suggest that the problem behind Hamlet's complaints (“Denmark's a prison” 2.2.260) is that he himself is too ambitious, perhaps more desirous of the crown than he cares to admit. With the voice of practical reason, Guildenstern advises Hamlet, “… the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream” (2.2.273-275). Rosencrantz adds, “I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.” Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's diagnosis is that Hamlet's ambition for the crown keeps him from enjoying life. Hamlet needs merely to lower his political aspirations and, after doing so, he will enjoy life as they do. “As the indifferent children of the earth” (2.2.244), says Rosencrantz; Guildenstern adds, “Happy in that we are not overhappy” (2.2.245).

These two friendships, Horatio's on the one hand, and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's on the other, affect Hamlet's troubled relations to his parents at more than just the conscious level; they affect his relation at an unconscious level as well. For Hamlet, as we have seen, Horatio mediates between him and his father. Horatio's memory of Hamlet's father solidifies the friendship between the two. Horatio, in fact, is perhaps more an image of Hamlet's father than Hamlet himself. Horatio, “more an antique Roman than a Dane” (5.2.363), and considerably older than Hamlet,³ is less reflective than young Hamlet and neither so passionate nor so grandiose.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern mediate Hamlet's relation to his mother at an unconscious level as well. In retrieving Hamlet for the Queen, Rosencrantz tells Hamlet, “She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed” (3.2.339-340); Hamlet satirically replies, “We shall obey, were she ten times our mother.” This mediation to some degree is Oedipal, but it is not limited by that notion.

Hamlet's near rejection of his mother is what kills her psychologically in the closet scene (act 3, scene 4). Just as with a sword Hamlet wants to determine the fate of Claudius's soul, with moral judgment Hamlet seeks to destroy the psyche of his mother. “O Hamlet, speak no more! / Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul, / And there I see such black and grained spots / As will not leave their tinct” (3.4.99-102). Hamlet over-reaches his responsibility not only in his duty to his father but also in admonishing his mother. The Ghost reappears to Hamlet and says, “Do not forget. This visitation / Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose” (3.4.125-126).

There are several ironies in this scene, but the deepest is that Hamlet is now more like his mother than his father, and, at an unconscious level, this needles Hamlet. The gruesome character of the closet scene is that Hamlet's harsh admonishment of his mother is really an expression of self-hatred. Hamlet is seeking to excise something that is a part of himself; earlier in not killing Claudius when the opportunity arose, Hamlet betrayed his father as much as his mother ever did, and Hamlet knows this unconsciously. Hamlet projects onto his mother his own failure to serve his father dutifully. The mother and son share a common guilt, and Hamlet denies his by punishing his mother.

What do these examples show us about friendship, about Hamlet, and about Hamlet's tragedy? Here is the concept that the play allows us to grasp. Our parents serve as the “ideal types” that we use both to choose and to mediate our friendships, and I use the term “ideal types” much as Max Weber, the founder of interpretative sociological theory, uses the term. These ideal types that we gleam from our parents do not actually exist in concrete reality. Neither are they adequate descriptions of who our parents truly are. Nor are they representations of some metaphysical truth. They are simply those conceptual constructions of what friendship with our parents would be like if we were to have a friendship with our parents. Weber writes:

Meaning may be of two kinds. The term may refer to the actual existing meaning in the given concrete case of a particular actor … ; or secondly to the theoretically conceived pure type of subjective meaning attributed to the hypothetical actor or actors in a given type of action. In no case does it refer to an objectively ‘correct’ meaning or one which is ‘true’ in some metaphysical sense.⁴

These ideal types, of which Weber speaks, serve us as conceptual constructions with respect to what intimacy and trust are, and we need these ideal types to understand the meaningfulness or lack of meaningfulness, the substance or lack of substance, that exists in our interpersonal relations.

For instance, were Hamlet not so estranged from his mother, he would likely be more open to the playful camaraderie of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. He would be less judgmental about their cavalier attitudes. Hamlet's friendship with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern was cemented at the university in their shared affection for what is pleasurable when Hamlet's relation to his mother was unproblematic.

In turn, were Hamlet not so grief stricken by the loss of his father, his feelings for Horatio might be less intense. His need for Horatio to compensate for his lost father-figure would be less intense. Indeed, Horatio's impulse to follow Hamlet to his death, to sacrifice himself in suicide, show that Horatio loves Hamlet much like a parent. “Here's yet some liquor left” (5.2.364), says Horatio, and Hamlet begs, “Absent thee from felicity awhile / And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain / To tell my story” (5.2.370-372).

These ideal types that stem from our hypothetical images of our parents as friends, we can use either positively or negatively, consciously or, as is more often the case, unconsciously. These ideal types may represent a direct correspondence to the friendships that we form, or they may provide a contrasting or complementary difference. If our parents were humourless and formal, we may seek out witty and carefree friends. If our parents were playful and undisciplined, we may trust only people who are serious and moderate. Friendship is an identity-constructing relationship. It offers us an opportunity to rewrite our upbringing with our parents and either revise or enhance our attitude toward that upbringing.

Aristotle says that our parents are our friends, but, at the same time, he says that a sense of equality is essential to the formation of friendship. The relation of a child to a parent, no matter how much love and trust there is, is still essentially an unequal relation. Our parents will always precede us. Friendship, though, is based on a choice, a choice that affirms a certain sense of equity or proportional equality with respect to our affection for use, pleasure, virtue, or all three. “I am glad to see you well. / Horatio—or I do forget myself.” “The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.” “Sir, my good friend—I'll change that name with you” (1.2.167-171). While there may be a socially structured inequality, a class stratification, betwen Horatio and Hamlet, at an interpersonal level this inequality is nonexistent.⁵

After the resounding success of the Gonzago play in exposing Claudius's guilt, Hamlet gets carried away and says to Horatio in an excited speech:

For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
                                                                                          This realm dismantled was
Of Jove himself, and now reigns here
                                                                                          A very-very-pajock.

(3.2.292-96)

Jove is a reference to Hamlet's father, and pajock to his repulsive uncle, but notice that Hamlet refers to Horatio as his Damon, an allusion to that perfect friendship in Greek mythology. If Hamlet knows Horatio to be his Damon, then he also knows that he is Horatio's Phintias (not Pythias). In plotting to overthrow the tyrant Claudius (Dionysius in the original story), Hamlet believes that he can rely upon Horatio to save him from the consequences of his subversion.

Horatio replies to Hamlet's excited speech, “You might have rhymed” (3.2..297). From the perspective of the audience watching the play, this line is an instance of comic relief; from the perspective of the interaction between Horatio and Hamlet, it is an instance of good feedback. Hamlet is out of harmony, and his friend Horatio draws his attention to this fact.

Shortly after the Gonzago play Hamlet sees Claudius praying in the Chapel: an opportunity to kill his uncle and satisfy his father's demand for retribution. Hamlet, however, chooses not to kill his uncle, but not because he is afraid of killing. It is important to address the reason that Hamlet himself gives for his decision to defer this action. Hamlet imagines that to kill Claudius when he is praying could mean that his uncle's soul, despite his ignoble deeds, will go to heaven. Claudius now is seeking penitence. Hamlet decides to wait so that he may kill Claudius at a better time, when Claudius is actually doing something ignoble. Hamlet wants not only to destroy the body, but also to determine the fate of Claudius's soul, “That his soul may be as damned and black / As hell, whereto it goes” (3.3.97-98), a thought that horrified Dr. Johnson.⁶

Heroes are not good candidates for friendship, which is the hero's tragedy. Heroes resist the influence of their friends. Horatio would have disapproved, and we recall that the Ghost had cautioned Hamlet, “Taint not thy mind” (1.5.103). Aristotle writes:

This raises the question whether or not we wish our friends the greatest of all goods, namely to be gods. For (if that wish were fulfilled), they would no longer be our friends, and, since friends are something good, we would have lost this good. Accordingly, if our assertion is correct that a man wishes his friend's good for his friend's sake, the friend would have to remain the man he was. Consequently, one will wish the greatest good for his friend as a human being.⁷

Friends wish for a friend not as a god, but as a human being. With friends we choose humanity over divinity, and this choice saves us.

Hamlet is grandiose when he takes it upon himself to be the one to determine the fate of his enemy's soul. When Claudius concludes his guilt-ridden speech with the observation, “Words without thoughts never to heaven go,” Claudius's words echo not so much on Claudius's own speech, which is both thoughtful and poignant, but on Hamlet's distant and observing speech, which rationalizes the calculated decision not to kill Claudius at this moment.

We began with the observation that there are two friendships that structure Hamlet, but there are actually three. The third materializes only as Laertes and Hamlet die together. The undisclosed murder of Laertes' innocent father, Polonius, and the inadequate Christian burial of Laertes' good sister, Ophelia, transform Laertes into someone who shares much with Hamlet. “I tell thee, churlish priest, / A minist'ring angel shall my sister be / When thou liest howling” (5.1.235-7). Laertes, more than anyone, has the experiences which allow him to empathize with Hamlet's rage and indignation. While less perfect than Horatio, Laertes is yet a better candidate for friendship.

Hamlet utters a monstrously offensive line to Laertes, “I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers / Could not (with all their quantity of love) / Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?” (5.1.270-273). Hamlet's remark is loveless. Since when does love quantify itself so as to compete with other measures of love?

If the highest achievement of friendship is the understanding of another through the act of forgiveness, then Laertes and Hamlet, an enemy in the eyes of Laertes, die on the threshold of friendship. “Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet / Mine and my father's death come not upon thee / Nor thine on me!” (5.2.350-353). This exchange between two noble but fallible human beings makes the ending of this great tragedy joyful. Hegel, a great admirer of Shakespeare, writes:

Breaking the hard heart and raising it to the level of universality is the same process which was expressed in the case of the consciousness that openly made its confession. The wounds of the spirit heal and leave no scars behind.⁸

Notes

1. Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. Martin Ostwald. The Library of Liberal Arts 75 (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1962).

2. Hamlet references are to The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (New York: Avenel Books, MCMLXXV).

3. See Harold Jenkins, ed. Hamlet (London: Methuen, Arden, 1982), p. 552

4. Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. Ed. Talcott Parsons (New York: Free Press-Macmillan, 1964), p. 89.

5. See, e.g., John Halverson, “The Importance of Horatio,” HSt [Hamlet Studies], 16 (1994), 60-61.

6. Dr. Johnson on Shakespeare, ed. W.K. Wimsatt (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1969), p. 140.

7. Aristotle (n. 1 above), p. 228.

8. Hegel, G. W. F. “Evil and the forgiveness of it” in The Phenomenology of Mind (New York: Humanities Press, 1977), p. 676.