Shelby Perlis
While Hamlet features one of the most widely studied literary figures in history, it is not its titular character that begins and ends the play—Horatio, instead, frames the story. Hamlet entrusts his main friend, confidant, and advisor to tell his story after Hamlet is dead, effectively being the one to turn Hamlet into Hamlet. The events in the play are fueled by storytelling and interpretation, suggesting to Hamlet and Horatio that their sense of identity is dependent on how they tell their stories. Hamlet’s life is punctuated by tragedy and seemingly meaningless catastrophe—something Horatio himself points to in his final speech about “accidental judgments” and “casual slaughters”—and thus scholars are often left unsatisfied by Horatio’s ending. However, by continuing Hamlet’s story after his death and inviting compassionate interpretation, Horatio suggests authorship has a useful and relevant place in modern readings. Thus, through the character of Horatio, the play ultimately defines authorship as a productive, expressive effort at agency and empathy within a tumultuous world.
Authorship, here, is the act of creating and sharing a story. Horatio is not only the most informed about Hamlet’s life, but he is considered the most logical and rational of the play’s characters, making him a worthy biographer. Their world (and, Shakespeare posits, our world) is ruled by questions of meaning and purpose, as Hamlet continually grapples with his role within an unstable, even lawless universe. It is only through the act of narrative reclamation that Horatio is able to assert control over their lives, and in doing so he proposes a meaningful discourse on the art of personal expression. This suggests that authorship possesses two main virtues: being productive and being expressive. Through studying how Horatio defines authorship, it becomes clear that storytelling can serve as an opportunity for continual personal progress.
Authorship as Productive
In order to successfully reclaim agency and order, Hamlet’s author must be what its
setting is not: logical and just. Lars Engle in “How Is Horatio Just? How Just Is Horatio?” studies these traits and how they make for a worthy author. Engle views “just” as reasonableness and objectivity within an individual in his reading of Act 3 Scene 2, relating: “Horatio's dispossession and his lack of desire for advancement allow him to be, relatively speaking, resistant to the distortions of judgment caused by the proximity of power and the possibility of wealth” (259). This suggests Horatio is largely able to bypass conflicts and distractions, as he is motivated by facts and justice instead of more trivial pursuits. Authorship, then, is focused and active. While Hamlet is a proclaimed scholar, he and his family lack real reference in the play to written law. This lawlessness and instability thus make it especially useful for Horatio to harness a “text” (albeit oral) of his own when picking up the pieces of the final act. Jeffrey Wilson in “Horatio as Author: Storytelling and Stoic Tragedy in Hamlet” notes that these factors are written directly into Horatio’s character. Shakespeare’s choice of name sets up Horatio’s basis for a useful orator; “In the name Horatio, moreover, we hear the Latin ratio, ‘reason’, for Horatio is the rational foil to Hamlet’s emotional suffering… Perhaps the mathematical sense of ratio even informs Horatio’s calculating judiciousness” (Wilson 202). As Hamlet worries continually over his own biases and mental conflicts, it makes sense that one of his foils would be able to settle these productively. Horatio’s trustworthiness and balanced judgment thus make him a capable voice at the play’s end, suggesting to audiences that authorship depends upon reasoning and motivation.
Hamlet is perhaps most concerned with his “wounded name” (5.3.382) at the time of his death—hence, it is telling that he passes this concern to Horatio with full confidence, positive that he will be able to secure Hamlet’s honor and identity. This project uses the 2006 Arden edition of Hamlet, which primarily focuses on the second quarto version of the play, in which Horatio assures, “All this I can / Truly deliver” (5.2.386-387). This promise is delivered to Fortinbras but seems to be a promise to Hamlet, too; legacy here is given a reverent sanctity at the end of life. Rebecca Yearling in “Hamlet and the Limits of Narrative” explores the effect of storytelling on reputation in the play. She offers, “Cognitive narratology tells us that human life is based on narratives, we are continually telling stories to ourselves about ourselves; According to this argument, we are effectively whom we tell ourselves we are” (Yearling 370). After Hamlet dies, no one but Horatio remains who knows the truth about his revenge mission or about his father’s murder, and thus Hamlet’s justifications for his actions could possibly die with him. Denmark, then, could remain rotten if no one actively works to influence public attitudes about their kingdom—and it is here that Horatio acts as a productive force for change. By assuming authorship, Horatio promises to defend Hamlet’s public narrative and push for betterness in the future. Thus, authorship here has the potential for salvation and progress.
Authorship in the play is also able to limit death and destruction. Anna Kurian in “The Life in Stories, Life as Stories: Hamlet and Narrative Reanimation” studies how this play containing so much death is able to avoid stagnation and irrelevance, and she determines it is through the legacy of storytelling. Just as “A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm” (4.3.25–6), lives are prolonged by their verbal passage through those invested in them. Kurian argues for “the possibility of life after death, not in terms of the spiritual but in terms of the stories, enunciated and heard by others, that perpetuate one’s life… life and the afterlife are about stories” (13). Not only does Horatio’s control over narrative prolong human life here, but it also makes these lives new and useful for listeners working to understand the world. Storytelling blurs the line here between natural life and spiritual life, as Hamlet becomes “real” to Fortinbras in the way that Horatio’s words conjure him. Kurain notes, “Amongst the ‘many princes’ lying on stage as Fortinbras enters, it is only Hamlet who is individualized and reanimated via Horatio’s words” (23). In devising Hamlet, Horatio summons the capability to give his friend new life and refreshed agency. Authorship in this way effectively limits death and enfranchises lost voices.
This final speech to Fortinbras raises concerns for some scholars like Frederick Kiefer and Andrew Hui, as their readings view Horatio’s ending as a bitter reminder of too-late justice. The “words, words, words” that Hamlet ponders have the potential to avoid the play’s “accidental judgements” and “casual slaughters” (2.2.183, 5.2.383), yet Hamlet only truly understands their worth once he passes his words onto Horatio instead— prompting some directors to even cut Horatio’s speech from their productions altogether. However, it is precisely the effort he puts in to provide a speech that gives the play its satisfying conclusion. Horatio, overcome by grief and even a desire to kill himself, instead resolves to end their cycle of chaos and insert order by telling a story; “the formal structure of tragedy seems to give Horatio a way to make sense of and cope with the death that surrounds him and that prompts him to consider taking his own life” (Wilson 206). By giving language and structure to the instability Denmark has faced, Horatio asserts narrative control over his life—and suggests audiences have the ability to do the same in theirs. There is power and self-affirmation in this definition of authorship, Horatio relates, and looking at events through the organization of narrative removes some of their ability to perpetuate instability or injustice. Yearling confirms, “It is narrative that allows us to smooth over our own inconsistencies and uncertainties, giving a sense of cohesion and consistency to our lives and actions” (380). Thus, Horatio turns to authorship in order to assert control over his life, and therefore reclaims agency in a productive, progressive manner.
Interestingly, Horatio’s authorship achieves a kind of productivity that even Hamlet could not during his own life. Hamlet’s mission, from the moment he meets with his father’s ghost, becomes one of action: righting wrongs and decisively braving injustice. However, he struggles to find success through violence or confrontation. Horatio’s method is far more effective; “In the reflective, mimetic way he tells stories, Horatio does what Hamlet says to do but doesn’t really do himself: Horatio reflects the world back to itself” (Wilson 204). In choosing Horatio as his author, Hamlet suggests understanding that reasonable, logical Horatio is his worthy successor. This contradicts scholarly dissatisfaction in Horatio’s ending, as the restlessness and inadequacy of efforts in the play are here resolved by Horatio learning from Hamlet’s mistakes. Meaning is restored to the world in a way Hamlet could not provide for himself, as Wilson identifies “the telling of stories and the identification of genre seems to give Horatio purpose and value in life” (204). Even those skeptical of Horatio’s narrative ending acknowledge his notable difference to Hamlet, such as Andrew Hui does in “Horatio’s Philosophy in Hamlet.” He cites the weight of having a witness in the play, relating “Hamlet is fully aware of the power of witnessing, of having a posthumous advocate… In a deep sense, he has failed to do this for his father” (Hui 168). This idea links narrative and moral duty together, suggesting Horatio’s speech at the end is a kind of active virtue (and one that Hamlet arguably achieves by delegating his father’s story to Horatio). In this way, it becomes possible that Hamlet ultimately achieves his goals not by killing Claudius, but by positioning Horatio as their author. He displays impressive agency and initiative not through murder, but through an effort to share knowledge with others. Kurian sums, “Hamlet lives in a mode that was unavailable to him in ‘real’ life, his wounded name cleared and his story fixed, with no competing narratives to unsettle the listener” (23). Storytelling, here, becomes equated with direct action, as Horatio’s speech brings the potential for change and peace. Shakespeare suggests that authorship is the act of cultivating justice and moving forward from an event, as narrative makes understanding possible for those outside of that event.
Therefore, Horatio’s example of authorship relates to audiences that narrative and personal affirmation make agency possible, even in a world filled with destruction and instability. Continuing Hamlet’s story after his death secures his honorable reputation, limits the deaths of the well-meaning, establishes control over life’s uncertainty, and achieves satisfying closure. Hamlet thus poses that authorship is defined by its purposefulness; stories are not simply for entertainment, but for crafting progress and change.
Authorship as Expressive
If authorship relies on motivation, then reasoning and impartiality can only go so far. There is thus another half to authorship: emotive expression. Through this balance of objectivity and subjectivity Horatio is able to make his story meaningful. His unique relationship to Hamlet (his ultimate “subject”) is repeatedly emphasized; Frederick Kiefer in “‘Accidental Judgments’ and ‘Casual Slaughters’ in Hamlet: Horatio’s Eyewitness Account” claims Horatio holds a “uniquely privileged viewpoint.” Kiefer lists that among other secrets, “He is the only figure who enjoys Hamlet’s confidence, the only one who hears Hamlet relate the strange events of his abortive voyage to England and his explanation for those events, the only person who listens to Hamlet’s reflections on death in the graveyard” (186). Horatio is fully invested in Hamlet’s life, acting as a fascinated satellite for the final two acts of the play in particular. Trauma and duty alone do not motivate Horatio to take on Hamlet’s legacy as his new life’s purpose—personal, emotional devotion make him the sole, overqualified author. Engle marks this investment as genuineness instead of pure bias, noting, “Horatio's suicide attempt shows that he is less disinterested than Hamlet said he was, but that his interest is less a political one in the Danish regime than an erotic one in Hamlet...Moreover, Horatio's love for Hamlet gains value from Horatio's general freedom from attachment” (262). Horatio’s act of sharing Hamlet’s story at the conclusion differs from his detached, scholarly stories from the beginning; Horatio is motivated by a personal devotion that transforms the deceit and tension surrounding the rest of the play. Agency perhaps cannot be achieved through authorship, he suggests, without an urgent need for one’s story to be told.
This urgent expression goes beyond companionship—Horatio suggests that an essential component of successful narrative is compassion. In Act I Scene II when the two reunite for the first time in the play, Horatio greets Hamlet with “Hail to your lordship,” adding “My lord, and your poor servant ever” to which Hamlet replies “Sir, my good friend, I’ll change that name with you” (1.2.160-164). In a play where all other relationships are cast into question and muddled by controversy, Hamlet and Horatio’s care and respect for each other is unwavering. This affection is moving for readers and characters alike, suggesting at the play’s close that to author is to love. When Hamlet becomes Horatio’s personal purpose, Hamlet himself is unseparated from this—their affection for each other is a driving force for expression. And Duncan Spaeth in “Horatio’s Hamlet” argues that this affection is what makes Horatio’s narrative successful. Spaeth declares, “it is through this love at the close that Shakespeare touches in our hearts the springs of human affection, pity and awe, so that we say with Horatio as Hamlet's voice is hushed in death, ‘Now cracks a noble heart / Good night, Sweet Prince!’” (47). Horatio reclaims not only factual accuracy but personal agency by expressing his affection and loss through narrative. Shakespeare appeals to audiences here (through his own experience, no doubt) that authorship is an intimate and revealing work of emotion.
Understanding authorship as an act of love and closeness also suggests that narrative can be a tool for genuinity. Spaeth says of Hamlet’s speeches to Horatio that they “reveal Hamlet's real self, the sound core of his inmost being that he lets only Horatio see” (44). This is then able to be conveyed through Horatio’s personal accounts as author. Hamlet recognizes his true self can only be expressed by the person who knows him best, serving as a direct contrast to the other tales told in the play that largely relate untruths (such as Claudius’s accounts). Spaeth follows that “The cutting of this passage destroys one of Shakespeare's main guides to the understanding of Hamlet” (45). The play indicates that individuals are unreliable narrators of their own lives—even Hamlet hardly understands himself, let alone his family trying to understand him—and thus this narrative from an informed yet subjective perspective offers a new aspect of genuinity to the story. Engle similarly cites Horatio’s “freedom from economic or political determination of motive that makes Horatio appealing to Hamlet, a freedom that distinguishes Horatio sharply from more mercenary, or more impulsive, people” (257). This unique nonpartisan influence contributes to Hamlet’s catharsis through openness. In a plot brimming with betrayal, deceit, and confusion, their brief respite of authenticity becomes particularly moving for themselves and audiences alike. Horatio’s story of loss suggests that vulnerability is an important part of authorship, and that storytelling is an effort at expressing one’s true self.
Horatio’s ability to separate the illusions of Hamlet from reality similarly indicates that authorship serves as a contrast against theatricality. Jonathan Crewe in “Reading Horatio” explores how theatrics obscure Hamlet’s sense of identity throughout the play, as well as how it is Horatio that repeatedly resolves this problem. Crewe finds that Hamlet is susceptible to “absorption into the theatricalized world of the court that Claudius manages so masterfully in Act 1, scene 2,” but that with Horatio as his logician and supporter “Hamlet can attempt not only to seize control of the script and direction from Claudius, but also to instrumentalize theater for his own purposes of investigation and exposure” (275). As Hamlet blurs the difference between fact and fiction, Horatio’s holistic perspective reaffirms reality. Where it would otherwise seem to observers at the play’s end that Demark was consumed by “playing,” Horatio as author serves as a filter through which humanness and identity can be reestablished. Indeed, when he appeals for the bodies to “High on a stage be placèd to the view” (5.2.379), it is no longer actors or facades that Fortinbras sees, but lost people. Crewe adds, “The presence of Horatio allows Hamlet to withdraw himself from the part in which he has momentarily lost himself, and recover self-possession through the elite transaction of friendship” (277). Thus, theatricality is repelled by the order that authorship and expression provide. Being the one capable of centering Hamlet in life, Horatio is indicated to be a proficient choice of witness for him in death. Where theatrics and personas in the play distance Hamlet from his sense of identity, Horatio’s predestined role as orator and rationale offer Hamlet structure. To author, Shakespeare hints, is to cut away pretenses and to remain grounded amidst turmoil.
The expressiveness of authorship, finally, reveals authorship to be an art—as Andrew Hui quotes of Christopher Warley, “To interpret Hamlet means to become Horatio” (153). Horatio acts not only as an insert for Shakespeare himself but also for the audience that is working to piece Hamlet’s story together. This narrative construction is a creative and layered process, inviting both compassion and open-mindedness. Wilson links the artist Shakespeare with his author character Horatio, posing that they each serve as artistic motivators for audiences. He details, “Horatio’s and Shakespeare’s stories encourage audiences to recognize the possible separation between apparent and actual meaning—words, plays, and stories that seem to mean one thing can turn out, upon closer examination, to mean something else entirely…it excites the interpretive faculty of his audience” (204). This excitement of interpretation, then, is what makes Hamlet continually relevant to modern readers. Colorful ideas about the meaning of details and even of word choice allow Horatio’s and Shakespeare’s audiences to see themselves within the story. While perhaps no author can exactly convey every event of a plot, the job still remains to assert meaning and emotion where possible. David Lucking in “Hamlet and the Narrative Construction of Reality” explores the vast realm of possibility embedded in the narrative workings of the play. While Lucking notes the possibility that Hamlet could encourage the same speculation that troubles its characters—“making itself the object of precisely the kind of interpretative activity it enacts” (164)—instead Horatio’s emphasis on tragedy motivates audiences to find productive, hopeful meaning. When Fortinbras urges Horatio, “Let us haste to hear it, / And call the noblest to the audience” (5.2.388-389), his words do not suggest gossip or scandal but instead somber discovery. Storytelling becomes an opportunity for connection and understanding instead of dissonance, indicating to Horatio that his new purpose is an essential one. In this way, Hamlet reveals authorship to be an art of expression and interpretation that possesses the potential to craft personal progress.
Authorship, in its role as an art, thus serves to make a story bigger than itself: to combine author, character, and audience into one cohesive force. By watching Horatio transition from friend to author and biographer, spectators become part of his process and sympathetic to the complexities of successful storytelling. Viewers become aware there is a gray area between the fiction of Hamlet and the realness of Hamlet to Horatio; “when Horatio gives instructions that the bodies of the dead [be raised], what he is doing is creating a kind of mise en abyme, establishing a specular relation between the audience on the stage contemplating the body of Hamlet, and the audience before the stage contemplating the drama Hamlet” (Lucking 164). Horatio’s work conveys that authorship goes far beyond text on a page. The act of crafting and sharing a story involves appeals to pathos: artistic interaction with shared human experiences, and encouragement to feel the effects of a story long after hearing it. Hamlet’s concluding emphasis on expression again becomes an opportunity for progress, as Lucking relates, “The relation that narrative has with respect to reality is…that of holding one mirror up to another, art and life reflecting one another and reciprocally altering one another in such a way that the question of where one leaves off and the other begins becomes a virtually meaningless one” (163). In his authoring of the story, Horatio presses audiences to acknowledge the miscommunication, selfishness, and disconnect that makes the tale tragic—and then to locate where these are found in their own lives. By expressing the pain associated with Hamlet’s story, Horatio impresses on listeners (fictional and living) the necessity of human compassion. Thus, authoring Hamlet is part an art of emotive expression and part an outreach for response. Shakespeare uses Horatio’s character to shed light on the creative process and its emotional demands, fusing author and reader into one functional unit.
In this way, Horatio reaffirms Hamlet’s relevance and usefulness to readers, conveying the potential within artistic expression. Through interaction with poignant emotion, compassion and understanding are promoted as essential virtues. Authorship, here, is the vehicle that makes this interaction possible: transitioning facts into meaningful, progressive tools for connection. Horatio’s experiences with friendship and love, theatricality and genuinity, and artistic interpretation portray this for audiences, making authorship an accessible concept even in the modern world.
Conclusion
Skeptical scholars are right; Horatio’s final speech cannot make the universe more just,
and his words cannot craft a solution for violence and greed. However, his brave attempt at restarting his life as Hamlet’s author do reveal that discussion and compassion can make lives better. Shakespeare inserts Horatio as a voice for authorship overall, defining the concept as a productive and expressive effort toward personal progress and suggesting that agency is an achievable goal even amidst chaos. Here, the play asserts itself as relevant even for modern readers. To tell and retell Hamlet’s story is to continue fruitful conversation about humanity, allowing audiences to situate themselves as capable, empathetic beings within a tumultuous world. Therefore, Horatio suggests that perhaps a story becomes satisfying and useful not simply from a person telling it, but from an audience choosing to hear it and tell it again.
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