The Aging of Hamlet Essay -- GCSE Coursework Shakespeare Hamlet

The Aging of HamletBooks ar not absolutely jobless things, exactly do contain a durability of life in them to be as active as that brain was whose progeny they are  Milton   I Read Hamlet the other day.  It had changed considerably since I nett read it.  Hamlet himself was somewhat thinner, I thought but he had also mellowed considerably he was rather less misanthropical and a little more than tolerant than he had been.  Polonius was definitely more senile than before. Ophelia was less silly, and more of a pathetic figure than ever.  Laertes was only the same that sort of young man does not change but Osrichad distinctly grown up.  The Queen was a little fatter and the Kings teeth seemed to me to be needing attention.  These were the principal changes I noticed in the play.... Some people will say that this is fantastic nonsense, and that it was I that had changed, not the play.  Most imagine that when a work of subterfuge leaves the hand of the master, it remains in changeless beauty forever, though succeeding generations may feel differently virtually it, sightedness it from different angles.  It is to point out the fallacy of this common opinion that I am writing this essay. The fallacy springs from regarding a great work of art as a dead thing whereas the distinctive situation more or less whatever has been created by genius is that it is alive and not dead.  When Milton says that books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are, his statement is both excessively wide and too specify too wide, because it is not true of all books, but only of a very select minority, the majority being as dead as mutton too narrow becau... ...Those creations which have such animation in them are the works which we call inspired perhaps, without twisting language too violently, we can say that that is the very meaning of ins piration - putting smell into lifeless matter.  I need scarcely mention the obvious fact that many things which pass for works of art at the time of their fruit are entirely uninspired, and consequently have no principle of vitality in them, no enduring life. Most of the plays written by Shakespeares coevals are uninspired works, and therefore dead.  Though I, personally, get a secure deal of pleasure from reading them, I always feel, after an second or two in their company, as if I had been walking about among specimens - some of them curious and some of them beautiful - in museum cases unchanging things, things unbending forever in the frozen immobility of death.