Hamlet: Iambic Ghosting in Lady A

"Hamlet - oh Hamlet" by h.koppdelaney is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0

The first time I felt an extended visceral connection to the meaning of what I was saying, in English, was the day my soul understood Hamlet. During the experimental production of Hamlet that was part of my acting program, I was cast in multiple roles, two of which were Hamlet and Ghost. During class, I learned to define and analyze the language enough to absorb the semantic and sensorial meaning of the text. While rehearsing the role of Ghost by myself in the studio, it dawned on me that I was connecting, viscerally, with the meaning of the text. This was a big milestone for me because my maternal tongue is Castilian Spanish, and for as long as I can remember when I speak in English, I have a superficial disconnect between meaning and feeling, especially when performing. Later, I identified the same breakthrough while working on a Hamlet – the character – scene. This production of Hamlet unlocked my ability to connect with English as intensely as I connect with Spanish. 

I pay homage to my experience with Hamlet in Lady Alhambra. Nila and her mother’s spirit are my representation of a feminine version of the relationship and dynamic between Hamlet and Ghost. To emphasize the spiritual state of Nila’s mother, I enhanced her text with metaphors, imagery, and a sort of iambic pentameter. Perhaps the most significant parallel between the two plays is the last monologue in Lady, where the spirit of Nila’s mother echoes similarities in the speech the ghost of Hamlet Senior delivers in Hamlet Act 1, scene ii. I attempted to pay homage to Hamlet by echoing the visceral truth in its language. Here’s an excerpt from the play: 

[Nila’s body speaks the chorus of her ancestors while walking upstage left in the style of slow-tempo.
She gravitates towards the sofa-chair]

Ancestors:

Dissolve your grief and senseless tendencies,

They quickly lead to mocked dispiritedness.

If you entrust your guts to feeble pulse,

Your flesh will knit with holes of oozing wounds

That stink of rotting bait, disposed to feed, The wicked pecking vultures.

Burly Spirit:
(Interrupts, speaks with screechy voice)

Oh! Easy prey with shattered armor! Let us peek inside...

Ancestors:

A thinning heart commands with clouded reason: Fails to stitch, nurse, and heal the soul. 

Burly Spirit:
(Interrupts)

This shrine will do! This shrine will do!

[violently falls to the ground]