Thoth Tarot (Aleister Crowley and Frieda Harris):
The Hierophant
(image used by permission of the Ordo Templis Orientis, Secretary General/ International Headquarters,
Berlin, Germany)
[NOTE: If you haven't already read the disclaimer on this section's introductory page with regard to any and all actor names mentioned in this section of the website, please do so before proceeding here.]
Hamlet disdainfully calls the venerable Counsellor a "tedious old fool" and "foolish, prating knave." But is he really? Oh, that clever fox Shakespeare understood well enough that we tend to take anything a story's hero says for true coinage and absolute gospel; and to this day, this is borne out again and again on both stage and film in Polonius's portrayal (not least in Felix Aylmer's thoroughly avuncular Counsellor in Sir Laurence Olivier's movie). But should it be? No; in fact I think one of the particular merits not only of the BBC production starring Sir Derek Jacobi in the title role and Eric Porter as Polonius, and, even more so, of Sir Kenneth Branagh's and Franco Zeffirelli's movie adaptations (featuring Richard Briers and Ian Holm, respectively, in the Counsellor's role) is the substantial way in which they debumblify him.
Because, let's think for a moment about who this Polonius really is.
We know that he is of noble birth; if he were not, he would most likely never have become Counsellor to the King in the first place – indeed, more than that, Royal Chamberlain, the King's "assistant for a state" and chief diplomat; in other words, in modern parlance, his Foreign Secretary – or Secretary of State, as the Americans would call it. Moreover, from his son Laertes's pretensions to the throne upon his return from France, and Laertes's comments about the malicious rumors (most likely spread by Claudius, although I'll concede this is conjecture) tainting his parents and his blood lineage, we can infer that Polonius's is one of the country's foremost families; one of those families that, in the event the current dynasty were to end, might itself have royal succession rights. Or, more precisely, the only family in that position: for upon its own extinction with Laertes's death, who is next in line with a claim to the throne of Denmark? No other Danish nobleman at all, but Fortinbras, the heir to the Norwegian throne.
Next, we also know – from the subtext of Polonius's exchanges with Claudius, if nothing else – that Polonius didn't only become Counsellor upon Claudius's ascent to the throne but had in fact held that position for years under the previous King; a strong and farsighted sovereign, as we repeatedly hear him described ... and would such a ruler truly have chosen, and kept by his side for any prolongued period of time, the kind of portentious but essentially mild-mannered, soft-brained, toddling figure implied in his son Hamlet's remarks? Hardly, methinks. And though I know little enough about the workings of today's political world, I have a feeling that whatever machinations and backstabbing are the order of the business today can't hold a candle to the juggling for power and position at a medieval court, where even a man's life was worth decidedly less than it is today, and where anybody even remotely matching Hamlet's description of Polonius wouldn't have survived in any position of power for more than a few days – a few weeks at the very, very most. And indeed, there are several instances where we do see Polonius exhibit a tendency to scheme and lay traps for other people in the way I think only a seasoned politician would, such as when he sends his servant Reynaldo to spy after his own son (!), and when he devises several schemes to sound Hamlet's state of mind (the last one of which of course ultimately proves fatal to his own person).
Then how does Hamlet come to see Polonius the way he does? Well, put yourselves in his place for a moment. Of all the people at court, Hamlet and Polonius are the only ones positioned close enough to the throne to have seen the inner workings of Claudius's ascent to power after the death of his brother. Of all people, they are the only ones to have been able to observe how Claudius wooed Gertrude and ensured that he, not Hamlet – the rightful heir – became the next King. Indeed, if Hamlet wasn't even in Denmark at the time of his father's murder (as I think is probable; and I'll explain why in a moment), Polonius was – outwardly at least – in an even better position than the Prince to take note of all these things. And we know that Hamlet himself, even before he learns of Claudius's evil deed, already has misgivings about everything that's going on; not only because Claudius sidelined his own succession rights and stepped between him and Gertrude (which is the subject of much discussion and which I have addressed elsewhere), but also because to him, the slick and efficient way in which Claudius has smoothed his path into Gertrude's favour (and into her bedchamber), and from there on to the throne, has something profoundly unholy about it. As set forth in greater detail in this site's chapter on Hamlet's World, to Hamlet this is a sure sign of even greater evil to come. Now, if you're the Prince and this is how you see things, wouldn't you expect your father's long-trusted chief Counsellor to firmly and decisively take your side against that unholy pretender, your uncle? I know I would.
So why doesn't Polonius? Out of a sudden fit of illoyality to the former King and/or his son? No. I think several factors come together there. For one thing, Claudius very likely timed his brother's murder so that it took place while Hamlet was away "at school" (read: at university) in Wittenberg; i.e., not merely in another part of Denmark but in another country altogether, and his mere notification of the events and subsequent return to the court to attend his father's funeral would have taken some time – which gave Claudius ample opportunity to complete his machinations. I'll concede that Shakespeare nowhere says so expressly, but we do learn that at the beginning of the play Hamlet intends to "go back" to Wittenberg (which obviously implies that he had to come from there in the first place, and Wittenberg being the place of his studies, his stay there would likely have been a prolongued one). Next, we know that Claudius is not only ruthlessly ambitious but also a master conjurer; quick to exploit other people's weaknesses, poison their brains and instrumentalise them. We see this at work not only in the fast, efficient way he has already won over Gertrude at the beginning of the play but also later, when he spills enough venom into the mind of Laertes – the one person besides Hamlet who poses a real threat to his power – to not only convince him that not he himself, Claudius, is Laertes's enemy but the Prince (Laertes childhood friend, as I believe!), but to even make Polonius's son willing to commit sacrilege (cut [Hamlet's] throat in the church) for the sake of revenge.
And what are Polonius's weaknesses? Two in particular, it seems to me, that Claudius would have looked to. First an exterior one; the Counsellor"s position at court, which in those highly volatile moments immediately following the former King's death was undoubtedly very much at risk, particularly if (as I think we must assume) Prince Hamlet was absent at that time. Nothing would have been easier for Claudius than to sideline Polonius and replace him with someone else entirely. Now, open opposition to Claudius might of course have been the honourable course of action if his ascent to the throne had publicly been called into question, but that not being the case – indeed, with even Prince Hamlet, despite all his misgivings, initially concluding that he "must hold [his] tongue" – I think it's a bit much to expect of the venerable Counsellor of all people (whose trade is, after all, politics and diplomacy; not armed conflict) to openly refuse allegiance to Claudius, even if he had his initial doubts (and didn't immediately quell them himself) – which I am not at all sure of, either. Because secondly, while Polonius is by no means a fool, he is a highly flawed character – he is not only officious but also extremely open to flattery; and we repeatedly see Claudius playing on that. Already in their very first scene together he makes sure to let Polonius know that "the head is not more native to the heart, the hand more instrumental to the mouth, than is the throne of Denmark" to him (for which reason there is nothing Claudius would deny his son Laertes, either); and upon the Norwegian ambassadors' successful return to Denmark, he compliments Polonius for "still [having] been the father of good news" – whereupon the a much-gratified Counsellor responds, "Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege, I hold my duty as I hold my soul, both to my God and to my gracious King;" thus showing not only his officiousness and vulnerability to flattery but also a third weakness closely related with these, a great eagerness to please. Yet, Claudius also understands that a seasoned politician like Polonius would eventually grow suspicious over too much flattery; therefore, he gives him repeated assurances that his counsel is indeed appreciated substantively. Even after the "To be, or not to be" and "Get thee to a nunnery" scene between Hamlet and Ophelia, which Claudius and Polonius have secretly listened in on, although Claudius expresses his disagreement with Polonius over the cause of Hamlet's perceived madness, he does so very respectfully and not without immediately asking for another piece of advice – and when later that same day, before the infamous "play within the play," Hamlet again goes after Ophelia, Claudius quite deliberately (I think) lets the Counsellor – who is convinced that his daughter's sudden refusal of Hamlet has driven the Prince into insanity – get away with a rather disrespectful "O, ho! do you mark that?" (Read, "See? I told you so!") Of course by this time Claudius has begun to suspect (quite correctly) that Hamlet is on his trail, which he can't possibly share with Polonius in the first place, but that still doesn't mean he would have taken that kind of comment from just anybody.
Ultimately, thus, Polonius is simply not the person Hamlet can turn to for support; and the Prince – who also despises flattery in any form – quickly realises that and begins to deride him as cruelly as he derides everybody else who disappoints him. Yet, for all the "daggers" of his tongue that Hamlet makes Polonius feel while he is alive, and for all of Hamlet's scorn and indignation over suddenly being rejected by that "tedious old fool's" daughter and at his very behest, I don't think he actually hates Polonius; and when he says he "repents" for his death, I think there is more in it than repentance for an erroneous killing. I hear a certain note of pity next to the sorrow of his initial comment upon seeing Polonius's dead body ("Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune. Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger"), which I don't necessarily imagine exclaimed at all, as it often is, but rather, spoken in a fairly low voice and with a profound sigh. To me, Polonius's death almost brings the world to a momentary standstill for Hamlet, which markedly contrasts with the impulsive killing itself, and also with the violent fit of fury into which he again works himself only minutes (nay, seconds) later when confronting his own mother.
Would things have turned out differently if Hamlet at least had given it a try and placed more trust in the old Counsellor? He had, after all, been his father's advisor for years; and while it might have taken some effort, Hamlet might eventually have been successful in convincing him to join forces. Well ... a history teacher once told me that "what if?" is a profoundly ahistoric question, and I think in the context of this play (and particularly, these two characters), it is utterly pointless indeed. Hamlet instantly concludes that Polonius can't be trusted, which opens whatever way is left to go for Claudius to pull him entirely to his own side. Already by the time we see Hamlet and Polonius interact directly for the first time, in the second act's "fishmonger" scene, there is no longer so much as a suggestion of that "what if;" indeed, Hamlet puts the venerable gentleman quite cruelly in his place. And so fate takes her course, destroying first Polonius (at Hamlet's hand, no less) and then Hamlet himself in the end.
Now, as far as casting goes, I frankly can't think of anybody I'd rather see in the role than Sir Derek Jacobi. Not only is he one of the greatest living authorities on this particular play: his own Prince of Denmark, as recorded by the BBC in 1980 after an extended tour, is one of the title role's great standard-setting, landmark interpretations; and he also intimately knows everyone of the play's other characters, as evidenced, inter alia, by his Claudius in Sir Kenneth Branagh's adaptation, where few others would have been able to achieve such perfect synchronicity between the character created by Shakespeare and Sir Kenneth's temporal and geographic adjustments of the setting, turning Claudius into a glamorous ruler (with an as glamorous queen by his side), instead of the ruthless despot that others might see (and I certainly do). But most importantly, based on the personality I see emerging in his interviews, I simply believe that Derek Jacobi, like Ian McKellen, would be a wonderful teacher, and for very similar reasons, too: for his downright infectuous passion for the theatre and for the world of Shakespeare's plays in particular, combinded with incredible generosity, intelligence, sensitivity, as well as a very down-to-earth sense of realism.
Thus: Sir Derek Jacobi – the Counsellor – Polonius ...
Copyright 2002 – 2009: Ulrike Böhm, all rights reserved.