Setting the Stage
The stage for the drama to come is set with the imagery comprising the opening lines. Enter, from upstage—up a flight of stairs, actually—out titular hero. He is a young boy who is making his way down. And almost immediate, it begins: the foreshadowing of how nature seems to be a predatory thing out to get him.
“It is a close, windless day in late summer, and the downstairs room is slashed by long strips of light. The sun glowers at him from outside, the windows latticed slabs of yellow, set into the plaster.”
The Sound of Plague
The story takes place during one the waves of bubonic plague which ravaged London. It will be the final predatory animal which rips Hamnet from William Shakespeare and his wife. The face of the plague is usually resigned to the horrific damage done to the skin, but metaphor brings sound to the mix.
“The sound that comes out of him is choked and smothered, like that of an animal forced to bear a great weight. It is a noise of disbelief, of anguish. Agnes will never forget it.”
The Look of Mystery
Most of the story of the Bard’s only son is pure mystery. This does not create deficiencies for the writer, but opportunities. When the history is mostly unknown, few details can be described as inaccurate.
“Ahead of them, she knows, is her brother. Hamnet’s head bobs in and out of the grass. His hair is the colour of ripe wheat.”
Hamlet
The story is about the obvious connection between the name Hamnet and Hamlet. Shakespeare produced his tragedy about the Danish prince just a few years after the tragedy of losing his son. This metaphor-rich Passage takes place just after his wife first hears the name Hamler spoken in regard to the ghost dad of the title character. Thoughts to her husband.
“How could he thieve this name, then strip and flense it of all it embodies, discarding the very life it once contained? How could he take up his pen and write it on a page, breaking its connection with their son? It makes no sense. It pierces her heart, it eviscerates her, it threatens to sever her from herself, from him, from everything they had, everything they were.”
Fisher of Children
Her son is no more. She must voice the words, the horrible truth. He is dead. But, like most mothers of the period, she did not produce just one child. So, of course, she does the only thing which should even be expected.
“She, like all mothers, constantly casts out her thoughts, like fishing lines, towards her children, reminding herself of where they are, what they are doing, how they fare…Judith, upstairs. Susanna, next door. And Hamnet? Her unconscious mind casts, again and again, puzzled by the lack of bite”
