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Rewriting Canonical Portrayals of Women Gertrude Talks Back ATWOOD
Rewriting Canonical Portrayals of Women Gertrude Talks Back ATWOOD
Rewriting Canonical Portrayals of Women Gertrude Talks Back ATWOOD
Revisionist rewritings are one of the strategies that can serve that purpose; I need
not mention the by now many rewritings of such canonical texts as The
Tempest or Robinson Crusoe. As regards the author I am concerned with here,
Margaret Atwood, extensive attention has been paid to a recurrent feature of her
fiction: her repeated reworking of fairy tales, most importantly the different
versions of Bluebeards Egg, a re-shaping which culminates in her novel The Robber
Bride (1993). I would also point out how what is perhaps her most popular novel
to date, The Handmaids Tale (1985), thematizes the politics of reading and writing
or, as Hutcheon has aptly put it, "the opposition between product and process"
(139).
Similar concerns are apparent in the compilation of her short stories under the
title Good Bones (1992). If the constructions of womanhood and manhood occupy
her in The Female Body and Making a Man, in other stories (There Was
Once, Unpopular Gals, etc) it is the literary construction of womanhood that is
foregrounded. Thus, one of these tales ends with "Let us now praise stupid
women,/ who have given us Literature" (37). In no other story as in Gertrude Talks
Back, however, has Atwood engaged the issue so deeply and strikingly.
I say deeply and strikingly because there Atwood goes straight to the heart of the
matter. If there is any one author who can be said to have persistently influenced
cultural representations in the English-speaking world, we would probably agree
that it is William Shakespeare. And if one of his works had to stand for the canon of
"English" literature, it would likely be Hamlet. Atwoods story then engages the
very centre of that canon, and through Gertrude she rewrites a canonical text from
the very margins of its own discourse.
The authors endeavour, nevertheless, is fraught with problems. Gertrude is, after
all, one of Shakespeares most elusive female characters, and one over which
criticism (feminist and otherwise) has long debated. The most common
representation would see her, as Hamlet and the Ghost do, as a lustful, adulterous
and incestuous woman. This portrayal has marked not only critical readings but
also film versions of the play, as Rebecca Smith pointed out in her account of
Oliviers (1948), Kozintsevs (1964) and Richardsons (1969), a list to which I would
add Zeffirellis Hamlet (1990), as I would contend that it closely follows those
precedents. The keystone for this portrayal is of course the famous closet scene,
where "Oliviers Hamlet brutally hurls Gertrude--the ultimate sexual object--onto
her bed, alternating embraces and abuse" (Smith 195).
the traditional depiction of Gertrude is a false one, because what her words and
actions actually create is a soft, obedient, dependent, unimaginative woman who is
caught miserably between "two mighty opposites," her "heart cleft in twain"
(III.4.156) by divided loyalties to husband and son. She loves both Claudius and
Hamlet, and their conflict leaves her bewildered and unhappy. (194)
More recently, but in a similar vein, Adelman has claimed, again after a close
textual reading, that what is seen is "a woman more muddled than actively wicked;
even her famous sensuality is less apparent than her conflicted solicitude both for
her husband and for her son" (15). Adelman would even suggest that Gertrudes
death could be read as a suicide in order to protect her son, on the grounds that
"she shows unusual determination in disobeying Claudiuss command not to drink
[the poisoned cup]" (16).
Other studies of the character have attempted to place Gertrude in the wider
context of gender representation in Elizabethan and Jacobean drama, by arguing
that deviant behaviour in women is consistently associated with and portrayed as
sexual waywardness. Thus, Jardines point that "[i]t is the male characters who
perceive free choice on the part of the female character as an inevitable sign of
irrational lust, and as the inevitable prelude to disorder and disaster" (Still Harping
72) proves rather helpful to understand Shakespeares handling of the character.
What lies at the bottom of these disparate readings is precisely the ambiguity of
the Shakespearean text. Whereas its main sources, 12th-century Saxo Grammaticus
Historiae Danicae and 16th-century Belleforests Histoires Tragiques, give a clear
account of Gertrudes knowledge of the plot against the elder Hamlet and/or her
adultery before his death, these matters are rather obscure in Shakespeares play.
Besides, Gertrude remains relatively inarticulate. Even though she is capital to the
motivation of others, especially her son, she has few lines for a major character;
Gertrude is construed by others rather than by herself:
These ambiguities are the leverage for Atwoods rewriting of the closet scene
(Hamlet 3.4). It should be noted, first of all, that Atwood passes over two of the
main moments of this scene in Shakespeares text, the accidental murder of
Polonius and the apparition of the Ghost, as not being relevant for her purposes,
and she focuses instead on the confrontation between Hamlet and Gertrude.
Atwoods story, however, does not present an explicit dialogue between both; on
the contrary, it is a one-sided dialogue, Gertrudes voice being the only one we
hear/read. Thus Atwood turns the tables and gives Gertrude the articulateness she
lacks in the play.
Hamlets voice may not be heard, but it is nevertheless there. Shakespeares and
Atwoods texts are tied by cross-referential links which are shown even in the very
disposition of the latter on the page. The new Gertrude does not produce one
continuous speech, but rather a number of utterances separated by pauses,
thereby announcing that this is in fact an exchange, part of which has been left out.
The elided section would correspond to Hamlets words, that is, to the intertext of
Shakespeares play. Moreover, a closer look to the story will lead us to identify each
of Gertrudes utterances as both a challenging move, and a response to Hamlets
accusations in the intertext, though muted here.
Putting both texts side by side, as I will be doing here, would then not only serve to
reconstruct the whole "dialogue," ie. the connections between text and intertext,
but would also render clear the very mechanics of Atwoods revisionist rewriting.
What is then immediately apparent is that Atwood does not follow Shakespeares
ordering of the scene, but has built her portrayal of Gertrude on a handful of
specific moments which have been re-located, hence completely disrupting
Hamlets/Shakespeares discourse.
The story opens with a reference to the name of the implied listener, Hamlet,
which together with the very title of the story serves the purpose of placing it in its
literary context and identifying the intertext for the reader:
I always thought it was a mistake, calling you Hamlet. I mean, what kind of a name
is that for a young boy? It was your fathers idea. Nothing would do but that you
had to be called after him. Selfish. The other kids at school used to tease the life out
of you. The nicknames! And those terrible jokes about pork.
I wanted to call you George. (Good Bones 15)
But Atwoods Gertrudes naming of the listener is at the same time a re-naming that
de-sacralizes the figure of Hamlet through a humorous pun ("those terrible jokes
about pork") and its re-contextualization in the quotidian ("I wanted to call you
George"). This first move would represent a response to Hamlets words below and
a challenge of their implicit accusation, since by naming Gertrude as "the Queen,
your husbands brothers wife" Hamlet is accusing her of the unspeakable crime of
incest:
Gertrudes opening words in Atwood are thus characteristic of what will be the
three main lines of attack of this revisionist rewriting of the character: a de-
sacralization of Hamlet through both humour and re-contextualization in the
quotidian, the dismissal of guilt, and correspondingly, a rejection of his (male)
construction of her.
Yes, Ive seen those pictures, thank you very much. I know your father was
handsomer than Claudius. High brow, aquiline nose and so on, looked great in
uniform. But handsome isnt everything, especially in a man, and far be it from me
to speak ill of the dead, but I think its about time I pointed out to you that your Dad
wasnt a whole lot of fun. Noble, sure, I grant you. But Claudius, well, he likes a
drink now and then. He appreciates a decent meal. He enjoys a laugh, know what I
mean? You dont always have to be tiptoeing around because of some holier-than-
thou principle or something. (Good Bones 15-16)
As a result, in Atwoods story Hamlets remaining defining trait (like his fathers
before him) is his prudishness. Gertrudes accusation that he lacks a sexual drive
challenges his own of giving way to her animal instincts in 3.4.88-96. This is
probably Atwoods tour-de-force, since it validates Gertrudes famous lustful nature
through an effective reversal of the very notions of normality/abnormality, thus
making Gertrudes acknowledgment of guilt utterly irrelevant:
Come, come, and sit you down, you shall not budge.
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you. (Hamlet 3.4.17-19)
And let me tell you, everyone sweats at a time like that, as youd find out very soon
if you ever gave it a try. A real girlfriend would do you a heap of good. Not like that
pasty-faced whats-her-name, all trussed up like a prize turkey in those touch-me-
not corsets of hers. Borderline. Any little shock could push her right over the edge.
(Good Bones 17)
Actually, the "Go get yourself someone more down-to-earth" Gertrude utters
earlier can read as Atwoods rebuke to Hamlets expletive to Ophelia in 3.1.121
("Get thee to a nunnery"). Neither is Ophelia here an innocent victim; indeed, her
tragic end is comically anticipated as resulting from that very abnormality. Once
more, Atwood's interpretation of Ophelia makes clear that the Shakespearean
character is shaped by patriarchal specularization.
All the same, Gertrude is guilty of some crime here too. Atwoods Gertrude may not
confess to pangs of conscience, but she does own up to the murder of her first
husband, the elder Hamlet:
Oh! You think what? You think Claudius murdered your Dad? Well, no wonder
youve been so rude to him at the dinner table!
If Id known that, I could have put you straight in no time flat.
It wasntClaudius, darling.
It was me. (Good Bones 18)
In that sense, yes, she is guilty. Atwood works on the dark areas of the
Shakespearean text in order to re-inscribe her own Gertrude: one that takes
responsibility for her actions and that unambiguously asserts her right to choose.
What she is claiming for herself is agency; what she re-appropriates is her
sexuality. Therefore, her refusal to acknowledge Ophelia as a mirror implies as
well refusing to be victimized.
Works Cited
Adelman, Janet. Suffocating Mothers. London: Routledge, 1992.
Atwood, Margaret. "Gertrude Talks Back." Good Bones 15-18.
---. Good Bones. Toronto: Coach House, 1992.
Heilbrun, Carolyn G. Hamlets Mother and Other Women. London: The Womens Press, 1990.
---. "The Character of Hamlets Mother." Hamlets Mother 9-17.
Hutcheon, Linda. The Canadian Postmodern: A Study of Contemporary English-Canadian Fiction.
Toronto: Oxford UP, 1988.
Jardine, Lisa. Reading Shakespeare Historically. London: Routledge, 1996.
---. Still Harping on Daughters: Women and Drama in the Age of Shakespeare. Brighton: The
Harvester Press, 1983.
Lenz, Carolyn Ruth Swift, et al., eds. The Womans Part: Feminist Criticism of Shakespeare. Urbana:
U of Illinois P, 1980.
Said, Edward. Culture and Imperialism. New York: Vintage, 1994.
Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. The Arden Shakespeare. London: Methuen, 1982.
Smith, Rebecca. "`A Heart Cleft in Twain: The Dilemma of Shakespeares Gertrude." Lenz 194-210.
1 An earlier draft of this paper was delivered at the 5th International Conference on Canadian
Studies (Madrid, November 1994).