The Global Ophelia: Giving a Voice to the Voiceless Erynn Kim Mrs. Hamilton English IV AP Literature: Global Shakespeare 10 January 2013 Kim 1 A voice is a human gift; it should be cherished and used, to utter fully human speech as possible. Powerlessness and silence go together. -Margaret Atwood “Shakespeare does not belong to any one country” (Huang). These are the words of Dr. Alexander Huang, the man who coined the term “Global Shakespeare.” Indeed, nearly every country in the world has integrated Shakespeare into its culture, using his work in many ways: as a means to discuss controversial issues that, in any other context, would be unable to be discussed; as a medium to understand world cultures; and, overall, as a vehicle for cultures to understand and express themselves. Though accurate translation is important, interpretation is just as vital. The unique perspective of each culture results in many different interpretations of Shakespearean works. Writers, artists, and filmmakers often take poetic liberties in order to prove a particular point or support a certain opinion, using the original as a framework upon which they can build their own creations. Many cultures have chosen to create their own interpretations of Hamlet, most often by reshaping the characters of the original and casting them in a different light. Ophelia, in particular, though a very minor character in the original, has taken many new forms in the works of different cultures, whether from political, social, or literary motivations. The Japanese, Arab, and Chinese cultures have all expanded Ophelia’s role in the Hamlet story in order to emphasize their own unique points. Ultimately, though the Japanese, Arab, and Chinese Ophelias may differ from one another due to each cultural representative’s personal motivations, desires, and biases, all three are similar in the fact that, unlike the original Hamlet, each cultural interpretation gives Ophelia a voice and with it the power, whether good or evil, to make a statement. Kim 2 In the original Hamlet, Ophelia is a static character, playing a very minor role that has little effect on the outcome of the play. Controlled completely by the men in her life, Ophelia is doomed to remain in the shadows and watch helplessly as the events of the play spin out of control. Ophelia depends on the men around her—her father, Polonius; her brother, Laertes; and her lover, Hamlet—to form her opinions for her. When conversing with Polonius, Ophelia replies demurely to her father in one instance by saying, “I do not know, my lord, what I should think” (Shakespeare 47), a statement that, perhaps, best characterizes Ophelia throughout the play. In her passivity, Ophelia seems to be the exact opposite of Hamlet; while Hamlet constantly grapples with his overabundant thoughts and opinions, Ophelia does not endeavor to clearly express her own state of mind in any place during the play, for she relies on others to tell her what to think. It is only after the men in her life abandon her and Ophelia loses her mind to madness that she finally speaks freely without anyone feeding her the words to say. Even then, her barely coherent words convey no meaning in their own right, rather, as a gentleman states, “she may strew dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds” (Shakespeare 205). Ophelia again shares no personal opinion; instead, others are free to impress their own opinions onto the words she says. Ophelia is truly a tragic figure—helpless and voiceless, she is used and abused by everyone around her until she finally lets herself die when the opportunity presents itself, failing to take an active role in directing her life’s course even in its final moments. Using the basic storyline of the original Hamlet, Japanese director Akira Kurosawa expands upon the character of Ophelia and her influence on the plotline in his film The Bad Sleep Well, a work that criticizes corporate corruption in 1960’s Japan. A cripple, the Japanese Ophelia, Yoshiko, must not only depend on the men in her life for emotional and mental support, as the original Ophelia does, but also for physical assistance. Thus Kurosawa emphasizes Kim 3 Yoshiko’s weakness and utter lack of individualistic strength through her physical disability. Yoshiko is quite similar to the original Ophelia in that Yoshiko is a passive character, defined by purity and innocence, if not naïveté. Her desire to see only the best in people is her downfall. Blind to the faults of her father, Iwabuchi, in particular, Yoshiko cannot comprehend that his loving actions toward her could ever be second to his own hidden and corrupt desires. Even when it is obvious that Iwabuchi, the Japanese Claudius, has willfully deceived her for his own gain, Yoshiko can only wonder helplessly, “Why would Father lie to me?” (Kurosawa). Having lived her entire life in a state of passive weakness and complete dependence on her father’s support, Yoshiko cannot mentally process his betrayal. Thus, she descends into madness, the complete loss of control and the ultimate form of passivity. It is in her passivity and madness that Yoshiko is very similar to the original Ophelia. Despite these characteristics, however, Yoshiko is still stronger than the original Ophelia in that Yoshiko has a voice of her own. Circumstances force Yoshiko to make a decision for herself when she alone knows where Nishi, her husband and the Japanese Hamlet, is hiding (Kurosawa). Her knowledge gives her a special sort of power that only she can unleash by deciding whether or not to use her voice. In this case, the combination of this power and Yoshiko’s innocent and loving nature prove fatal; by choosing to share her knowledge with the wrong person, namely Iwabuchi, Yoshiko directly causes Nishi’s death. Ironically, the weakest character ends up having the greatest power and influence over the outcome of the film. At the same time, while the greatest villain, Iwabuchi, escapes the scandal unscathed, Yoshiko, the most innocent character, receives the greatest punishment: the death of the man she loves and the accompanying guilt for inadvertently causing his death, as well as the insanity that follows due to her inability to cope in the corrupt world around her. The tragedy of Yoshiko’s insanity, in place of the original Ophelia’s suicide, is accentuated by her purity, which Kim 4 Kurosawa emphasizes by leaving Yoshiko’s marriage to Nishi unconsummated to the very end (Kurosawa). In this case, it makes sense that Director Kurosawa would decide to give the character of Ophelia special significance; Kurosawa’s criticism of corporate corruption is all the more potent in the cruel destruction of a character who represents both the weakest and the most innocent members of society. There is power in using the most powerless character to send the most significant message, for in this way Kurosawa is able to convey the horror of societal victimization, where innocents are hurt by their voices and are thus unable to speak in a world that has no place for them. Similar to the Japanese version, the Arab version of Hamlet, Sulayman Al-Bassam’s The Al-Hamlet Summit, gives greater scope to the character of Ophelia, as Al-Bassam confronts an important issue of his time: the politics of the war-torn Middle East. Al-Bassam’s play takes place at a conference held by a faltering, nameless Arab dictatorship. As a woman in the Arab world, the Arab Ophelia has very little power. Like the original Ophelia, the Arab Ophelia is subject to the wills of the men around her. The Arab Ophelia, however, is not a passive figure but has an opinionated mind of her own as shown by her sarcastic comments to Gertrude and her vocal opposition to an arranged marriage with Hamlet. She and her opinions, however, are constantly suppressed by everyone and everything around her. Indeed, the Arab Ophelia seems to have no place in the world in which she lives, as she is torn between the traditional role of Arab women and that of modern, western-educated women. “The animal that the world forgets” (Al-Bassam 78), Ophelia is a refugee; she is a woman lost without a concrete role to play. In the end, it seems that the Arab Ophelia never has any other option than the suicidal path she takes. A woman without a place in the world, Ophelia is also associated with the Palestinian cause, representing the Palestinians who seek a home but find none (Al-Bassam 14). Al-Bassam, like Kim 5 Kurosawa, gives his Ophelia a voice, but one that is stronger than that of the Japanese Ophelia, as the Arab Ophelia actively applies her voice to aid her own personal cause. To this end, the Arab Ophelia frees herself from the restraints of her culture and society by becoming a suicide bomber. She finds her voice in her final speech before she—actively, unlike the original Ophelia—commits suicide. Ophelia accompanies her voice with her actions, seeking to “express with [her] body what is not able to express politics and mighty nations” (Al-Bassam 79). By becoming a martyr, Ophelia is finally able to make a decision for herself and to show the world with her voice and body how the politics of her society make victims of the innocent, the helpless, the lost souls. The fact that her death makes no impact on either the outcome of the play or on the world around her emphasizes the tragedy of Ophelia’s fate and, more importantly, of the situation in the Middle East. By expanding upon the character of Ophelia, who in the original play has no place in a world dominated by men, Al-Bassam neatly adapts Ophelia to the context of the Middle East.