Susie Paine - Selected Writings

To Ophelia, daughter of Polonius,

       You will always be haunted by death and destruction. I am. I have always been. Many me, I have killed. Many children, as well. Many more have died because of me; not by my hand, but by my words. People will die by your actions. You are a sweet girl, and kind, and calm. No harm to anyone, you think. But, you hold power, power you cannot see. You hold the power of a man's love, the power of your station, the power of your mind, most importantly, the power of action. You may not feel very powerful because your world is dominated by men. I will tell you this, keep it with you and may it light your coming days: Men are foolish, they make quick decisions, and they will pass, unremembered, into history.

     Women have power over men; not obvious power or seen power, but power nonetheless. You have the power of holding a man's love, and what he will do to have yours. You have the power of your father, whatever small and imaginary power he may possess. You have the power of your mind, whether it is sound or not. Women's minds plan and plot, while men's minds are entirely full of action. You have plots and webs and secrets available to you. the most important power you have is action. You can take action about what troubles you. you can withhold action, and do nothing. You can shape a situation by leaving, taking actions, and other will follow. You have tremendous power.

     But, you will know suffering in every shape and form, every minute detail will be known to you. You will feel all the sorrows of the world, and every sorrow of your life. Ones you know will pass from the land of the living and continue to meet the Lord of the Dead. People you love will forget your name and your face. Denmark will face its greatest challenge and its power will break upon its spine. You must be able to face the pain, for if you don't, you set a dangerous precedent for you family. I cannot tell you exactly what will happen, but you will feel every pain your God can give you. You will wish for death, yet yearn for life. You will be ready to sacrifice everything that you value most. The world must not break you, for you are stronger than you know. Face your pain, and do not break. Do not sacrifice your ideals in your pain. Do not hide away either, for there are others who will need to borrow a bit of strength. Do not retreat into your head, for there humanity is weakest, and only in the world, with each other, are you truly strong.

                                                                                                                             The Sphinx of Thebes

 

To the Sphinx of Thebes,

     I know the grief you speak of; I am entrenched in it. There is nothing else I can think. Every time I close my eyes, I see the body of my father. And I know what you were trying to protect me from. you wanted to give me the chance to save my own future. I cannot do this because you were too late. I am sinking. I am dying, and you can do nothing about it. The words on this page; they are not how I feel. I don't know how I feel. How does one feel?

     I am not powerful. I have no power. I do, I suppose, have the power of my mind. But that is altogether filled with my grief. And I fear it is also scarred by madness. I am mad. I am not mad. What is mad? I am not strong in the face of my suffering. I know now what you meant when you talked about suffering and every grief in the world. I have felt more than every grief in the world, more grief than any can imagine. My father is dead, and dear Hamlet is the one who killed him. The people say that Hamlet didn't kill him, that he is only the vessel for a great madness. I believe them; Hamlet is most certainly mad maybe I am mad. Could I be mad? If I am mad, I cannot be strong for madness makes one strong. Thus, I am not mad for I cannot be strong, and I cannot change anything about my fate. My fate is sealed. I will die, sinking slowly into my madness. I believe you meant to send this letter earlier, but you waited too long. Now I am mad, and I will always be mad. All I know now is that no one protects me. Do I even need protection? Why are there so many rivers in this land? I feel nothing but grief. I have become a hollow shell, worthy only in holding grief. Nothing to Ophelia, but grief. Ophelia has become her grief. People say that grief consumes you, but they are mistaken. Grief becomes you. Are you also made of grief?

     I fear I race. There is entirely too much death and destruction involved in politics. Death of my father, death of me. So much death, so much pain. Why are men so preoccupied by pain? Even their own. I feel no pain, have felt so much that all I have is numbness. I am numb. I have always been numb. How did I ever feel? I do not remember being able to feel. Can I feel? I do not remember what feeling is. I am numb, at least I think I am. What is numb? What is feeling? What is life? My life is gone. My fate is sealed. I am sealed. If only I could leave! I can leave. I will leave. I am leaving. I have left.

                                                                                                                                  Ophelia

 

To Gertrude, Queen of Denmark,

     My Lady Queen, you live in a world vastly different from mine. We are separated by time and space, too far apart to ever meet, save from fleeting scraps of paper, fragile enough to dissolve in the wind. Since I sincerely doubt, and almost hope, that you know anything of me at all, I will quickly tell you who I am. I am Jocasta, Queen of Thebes, wife of two Kings. I have a sickly feeling that my second husband is not only my husband but also my son. Please do not stop reading, though I know this sounds barbaric to even your more accepting ears. My son was killed as a baby because he was prophesied to kill his father. The shepherd sent to kill him took pity and sent him far from Thebes. Once my dear son had grown, he came back to Thebes, killing his father along the way, and freeing the city from the horrid Sphinx. He was married to me, nad we have had many beautiful children. I have only just learned his true identity, which has marred all of these memories. It is perhaps time to tell you that I have constructed this story after digging to find all the pieces. I have resolved to kill myself, but first, I must tell you.

     Never take a second husband. One is enough trouble for a lifetime. The second will never reconcile with the memory of the first, and you are hurting so many people by remarrying. You do not know who you will hurt with your actions. I have marred all the generations of my family and my children's families, and all that come from my blood and the blood of my blood. The Fates once decreed, in a time unrecorded by man, that a woman would be loyal to one man, and one man only. The women who break this unstated sacred commandment meet only sorrow and pain. Gertrude, by all that is holy to your gods and mine, save yourself from my mistake.

     Remember that you must be strong. You have strength and you must keep your strength through all the trials of your nation. There are dark times ahead for you Denmark, and for your family. Stand beside you son; he will need you more than ever. Do not push him away the way I pushed away my own son. Learn from my mistakes, and start by finding the truth. Do not pass judgment on any situation until you have found the truth. I found the truth of my life, but I was too late. Look for the truth of your life now, before you come to regret it. Find the truth of your life, your nation, and your husband. Find the truth behind your son, find the truth of his mind. With this knowledge, you will be able to save yourself. Learn the truth before you are in danger.

     Gertrude, I have seen you in your time, and you are strong. You are stronger than I ever was and I know that you can live with the pain of your husband's death. You must carry your son through his troubles. He is weak, my dear Gertrude, and he needs help. He cannot live in this world without either you or your husband to guide him. Soon, he will be lost and I urge you, I beg you to help him. He will need your help because he will be lost in the world. He is too weak to find another anchor. Find one for him, and while you do that, be his anchor. He is already adrift in his mind. He does not need to drift in the world too.

                                                                                               Jocasta, Queen of Thebes

 

To Jocasta, Queen of Thebes,

     I am at a loss as to how you sent me this letter. Thebes has been gone for many ages. I regret to tell you that I am not able to heed your advice. I am standing in front of the altar where I am to be married in a few short hours. The past month has been a whirlwind. My husband died, and I wept for days. My son, Hamlet, you were right about him. He is drifting, lost, and grieving through life. He will not let me anchor him. I fear he resents the fact that I have been forced to remarry. I desperately do not want to, but my future husband is adamant. He is Claudius, the brother of my dear Hamlet, Sr., of course. He has become King now; Hamlet is too grief-stricken to claim his throne. Claudius has assumed power in the interim and has insisted I marry him. I do so fear that he will not allow my dear son Hamlet to take the throne after he finds himself in his grief. Alas, I fear that Hamlet, my son, shall not find himself.

     I cannot help him, and I cannot find the truth you bid me to seek. Everything has been barred to me by my grief. I am able to do nothing. I am simply a viewer to my own tragedy. I weep for myself, but I also weep for you. You did not deserve the fate you received, and I sincerely hope I do not either. There is so much pressure on me to be silent and stand by; I cannot find the truth you speak of. I do not even know if it exists. There is no truth form where I stand. All I see is heartbreak, and I cannot imagine anything else. It pains me to believe that I cannot see the truth. And I am not strong. I have no strength for myself, let alone any to give to my Hamlet, or to Denmark. I am not sure that Denmark deserves my strength. I am not sure anyone deserves muy strength. It is mine.

    I understand that I should not marry again, but I cannot stop anything now. I cannot stop anything. In your days, your word held weight, you had a small measure of power. I am left with nothing. Contempt for women has only increased since your reign. I am given no voice, no opinion, nothing but a face and a body. Everything is taken from me. I feel I am nothing save the extension of a man's will, whether that man be my father, my late husband, my dear son, or Claudius. I almost hate Claudius now, but I cannot bring myself to think that. My fate will be tied to his soon. I hope that he dies soon, so that I may follow him and forget what I have done, here on Earth. I am ready to stop, like you, Jocasta. I now regret asking you to live. Now I would like to join you in dying.

                                                                                                Gertrude, Queen of Denmark