“I knew him, Fortinbras: a fellow of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times. Here hung those lips that I have kist I know not how oft,” Horatio says to Fortinbras, holding the skull of Hamlet.
Okay so I’m sure we’ve all pretty much figured out at this point that anybody with a name in Team Skull is named after a different type of flower (Guzmania, Plumeria, Gladiolus, possibly etc., if there turn out to be any more). In Shakespeare’s Hamlet all morally good characters were likened to as flowers in a garden.
Team Skull has for the past month been theorized to be a scapegoat or not be the real Big Bad of the games.
In this GameFreak’s so-in-your-face-obvious-you-won’t-see-it Shakespeare reference that really points out Team Skull as possibly being good guys, or at least not the real Big Bads?
Hey yeah hamlet it's me wow remember when I bore you on my back and I had those lips you kissed you know not how oft remember how gay that was yeah me too wow your new boyfriend Horatio is hot that's great good for you buddy
David Tennant played Hamlet at the Royal Shakespeare Company in 2008, there was
a brief kerfuffle over the revelation that he’d
been using a real skull in the Yorick scene, that of a Polish pianist named
Andre Tchaikovsky who bequeathed his skull to the RSC in 1982. Other actors,
like Mark Rylance, had rehearsed with the skull before, but Tennant was the
first to use a real live skull — or a real dead one — before a
paying public. Once the news broke, the real skull was replaced with a fake one
when the show transferred to London, although the director, Gregory Doran,
muddied the question by later revealing that he never made the switch. He was
just trying to hush the chatter. In the Guardian, Jonathan Bate called the
incident a “silly sideshow to a great
theatrical event.” Given the anecdote’s
tenacious grip on our attentions, this bit of theatrical chatter is more than
just a sideshow. It’s the main event.
thing to be said about the incident is that there’s
a long history of actors using real skulls in Hamlet or, more to the
point, a long history of theatrical anecdotes about actors claiming to use real
skulls in performance — even when they aren’t.
As early as 1755, the theater scribbler Paul Hiffernan complained about the
regular use of “real Skulls and bones in the
Gravedigging Scene of Hamlet, to which a wooden Substitution might be easily
made.” The second thing to be said is that such stories are always about Hamlet,
which is probably no surprise. No one ever bequeaths a skull so that it might
be used in The Revenger’s
Tragedy. It is always Hamlet thatmakesus lose our heads.
This is due
to the fact that the pose of Hamlet, skull in hand, had become as early as 1606
a talisman for theatrical eschatology. In all the iconic poses Hamlet stares into the “eyes” of the
skull, searching for signs of life. And yet there’s
no one there. Yorick no more has eyes in the front of his head than he does in
the back of them. Hamlet might as well stare at the bottom, back, or top of the
skull, or — what’s the same — at the
theatre’s exit signs. Who is Hamlet looking at, then?
Himself? Is the skull a mirror or a lens? Perhaps the preposition is wrong
here. Who is Hamlet looking for? He is looking for us. Hamlet stares at
the skull and we stare after him — into the desert of the real in
which the only oasis is artifice.