Living the Lie in Ibsen’s “A Doll House”

Henrik
Ibsen’s “A Doll House” presents a woman, Nora, who has been
under the proverbial thumb her entire life; that of her father’s
and then later when she comes to marry Torvald Helmer, a man who
comes to take the place of the paternal authority figure in her life.
Both are men who did not truly love her but were only in love with
the idea of a beautiful girl or woman that belonged to them.  And
likewise Nora is not in love with the man she married, but with the
idea of pleasing a man who held such control over her.  She does not
immediately recognize this since she is filling the role of
submissive housewife that is expected of her.  In a sense all
characters in “A Doll House,” not just Nora and Torvald, are
living lies whether they realize it or not.

Nora’s
love for Torvald, or what she perceives to be love for him, is the
overwhelming element throughout the play.  From the beginning Nora is
presented as a subservient and submissive person who caters to her
husband’s every whim and allows him to treat her as a child, or
pet.  The names he uses, such as “little lark” and “little
squirrel,” are pet names, typically used when one speaks to a child
or someone who does not command respect equal to that of an adult.
Nora however never displays any resentment towards this behavior and
in fact seems to take joy when Torvald refers to her with those
terms.  They can certainly be terms of endearment, however the
connotation they carry are not meant to be viewed in a positive
light.  This can be viewed as Nora’s oblivious view of her
relationship to Torvald, which she comes to realize at the end of Act
III when she says “You don’t understand me, and I have never
understood you either–before tonight” (Ibsen III).  Nora’s
“happiness” in her marriage, then, is more like blissful
ignorance as she does all she can to please her husband but does not
stop to take stock of herself and what matters to her.

Later,
Nora lies not once but twice about her eating macaroons, which
Torvald does not like as he believes it harms her teeth.  She lies to
him when he directly asks her if she has been eating macaroons, then
the second time to Doctor Rank when he asks her where she got them,
telling him Kristine brought them.  Ibsen shows that Nora’s
relationship with Torvald is in such a bad state that she resorts to
covering up even the most innocent lies.  These are only the tip of
the iceberg as Nora then reveals to Kristine, in a fit of defensive
pride against Kristine’s accusation that Nora is a child, that Nora
was in fact responsible for saving her husband’s life when she
borrowed money to take him on a recuperative trip to Italy.  She
declines to tell Torvald and instead pays the debt in secret from her
allowance.  As she says, “how painful and humiliating it
would be for Torvald, with his manly independence, to know that he
owed me anything!” (Ibsen I).  It is her fear of hurting Torvald’s
pride and not love that prevents her from telling him the truth about
the loan.  Ibsen’s belief was that women, as
people, should be treated equally, and if they are not treated
equally then there can be no love, at least not the romantic love a
man and woman feel for one another (Freedman 92).

Nora
initially believes she loves Torvald the way he is, along with the
lifestyle he has practically chosen for her.  Torvald likewise feels
that he loves Nora for who she is and that the love is genuine and
pure, when he in fact loves her for the part she plays for his
benefit (“Torvald Helmer”).  He does not realize that the love he
feels is false as we come to realize in the play’s course of
events.  Torvald is following the typical male gender role of the
time as a controlling husband.  At the mid point of Act I, Nora asks
Torvald if he would consider giving a job to Kristine.  He is
hesitant, since he believes that a woman’s place is in the home.
Later, after Krogstad has paid Nora a visit in Act I, Torvald
comments on his belief regarding forgery and how it affects the home:
“Almost everyone who has gone to the bad early in life has
had a deceitful mother.”  Nora asks him why he says only the mother
is responsible, clearly shaken by Krogstad’s threat to reveal her
own lie regarding the loan and forgery, and he responds: “It seems
most commonly to be the mother’s influence, though naturally a bad
father’s would have the same result” (Ibsen Act I), the latter part
meant to apply to Krogstad to whom he was referring.  Although
Torvald appears to be a good and honest man it is revealed that he in
fact harbors his own secrets and denials regarding his wife, and in
fact his very view on his own life.  Further into Act II Doctor Rank
comments on Torvald’s ability to handle serious news: “Helmer
with his sensitivity has such a sharp distaste for anything ugly”
(Ibsen).  It is almost as if Torvald is unable to handle life as a
serious matter outside of his own selfish ambitions.  He simply
desires beauty and wealth and a happy home, as he tells Nora on
numerous occasions.  Torvald is perhaps the one character that does
not fully learn what it means to be truthful and therefore more
satisfied with one’s life as he is left alone in his house at the
end of the play.

Although
Nora and Torvald’s relationship is the key display of living in a
marital lie, there are other examples to be found.  During Kristine
and Nora’s initial conversation upon Kristine’s arrival, she
explains to Nora that she married not out of love but out of
necessity, as she “was justified in refusing his offer”
(Ibsen I).  Her mother was ill and two younger brothers needed to be
cared for, and so she married a man she did not love.  In the end she
was left alone with no children and penniless when her husband’s
business went under, forced to work various odd jobs in order to
support her brothers and mother for three more years.  The irony is
that Kristine was in love with Krogstad before she married Mr. Linde,
and only now after returning to the town does she admit to him that
she loves him and wants to marry him.  When he questions her
intentions and wonders if she is doing it to help Nora, Kristine
tells him, “when you’ve sold yourself once for someone else, you
never do it again” (Ibsen I).  She sold herself into a lie, a sham
marriage, once, and now she is hoping to Krogstad in the hopes of
finding something real.  

Hidden
desire is also revealed as Nora attempts to coyly entice Doctor Rank
to convince Torvald to keep Krogstad in his position at the bank.
After he has revealed that he will die soon, a fact he wants kept
from Torvald until after his death, Nora speaks playfully with Doctor
Rank, using deception and feminine wiles to subtly get her way with
Doctor Rank.  Even as she faces certain doom (doom to her in any
case), Nora continues to use the only skills available to her which
are lies and deception.  After speaking with him and showing the
doctor the stockings she had purchased, Doctor Rank is unable to
contain himself.  He admits, truthfully, to Nora that he loves her
and has been in love with her for a long while, and only because of
the friendship with Torvald has he been unable to admit the truth to
her.  When faced with this truth Nora recoils and decides she wants
nothing to do with Doctor Rank.  Although it is an unpleasant
experience for Nora she is once again faced with another instance of
hidden secrets and lies.  It is around this time that she begins to
feel overwhelmed by the weight of the secret loan she borrowed in
order to pay for her family’s trip to Italy, Krogstad’s threat to
blackmail her in order to secure his position at the bank, and the
ongoing doubt in her mind about whether or not she should even remain
in the household; perhaps, she believes, it would be best to kill
herself to spare her husband the shame and trouble of dealing with
all of the lies.  When faced with such hidden secrets Nora can only
think of her husband who she believes is a good and honorable man.

In
the cavalcade of deeply personal and selfish lies that are presented
throughout the play is the foremost among them and the critical
problem for Nora as the play’s protagonist: Krogstad’s threat to
blackmail her if she does not help him secure her position in the
bank.  Krogstad reveals through this threat that he initially lost
his reputation in the community when he became a forger several years
before the play takes place, and Torvald himself calls out Torvald’s
rather unsavory reputation as a valid reason not to allow the man to
remain in his position at the bank (although he later reveals the
truth that he felt Krogstad was simply not showing him enough
respect).  As a result it becomes very difficult for Krogstad to
maintain his position at the bank which he needs in order to maintain
his family, although as he states in Act II that for the last year
and a half he has “not had a hand in anything dishonourable, amid
all the time I have been struggling in most restricted circumstances”
(Ibsen II).  He uses his past when he appeals to Nora, who herself
was guilty of forgery when she signed her father’s name to get the
loan, and although he is attempting to live as an honest man he still
not above blackmailing someone to retain his livelihood.

With
all this lying and deception present throughout the first two acts we
learn that all of the characters are in a sense miserable though it
does not appear so on the surface.  Nora is in a sham marriage which
she is blissfully unaware of; Torvald treats his wife as a doll,
treating her as a helpless child that needs his constant attention
when she is more than capable of taking care of herself as a grown
human being; Kristine reveals that she lived a lie in order to marry
for money, albeit with questionably good reason, then was forced to
work difficult jobs to sustain herself and family when the man she
married died and left her with nothing; Krogstad is still suffering
from his forgery accusation years before and uses blackmail to
attempt to keep his job; and even the poorly Doctor Rank who is great
friends with Torvald and Nora reveals that he is sick with a disease
that he prefers to keep secret from Torvald and has been harboring a
deep desire for Nora that he decides to reveal before his death.  In
Act III all the characters come to a type of acceptance about the
truth of things (either true love such as with Krogstad and Kristine,
or death with no secrets as with Doctor Rank), but no one more so
than Nora.  All these characters are meant to be compared and
contrasted to Nora’s own struggle with the truth behind the lies
because out of all the characters in the play she is the one who
learns the most about the nature of truth and what it means to be
true not only with everyone around her but with herself as well.
Although she departs from Torvald’s household with a door slam and
on serious terms Nora takes a vital step towards her emotional growth
and ultimate happiness as a human being.

Works Cited

Fjelde, Rolf.  Ibsen:
Four Major Plays Volume I.  New
York: New American Library, 2006.  vvii-xxxiii.

Freedman, Estelle.  The
Essential Feminist Reader.  New
York: Modern Library, 2007.  92-98.

Ibsen, Henrik.  “A Doll House.”  Living
Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama.
Ed. John C. Brereton.  New York: Longman, 2007.  1562-1611.

Jackson, Stevi.  Women’s
Studies: Essential Readings.  New
York: New York University Press, 1993.

“Torvald Helmer.”  SparkNotes: A Doll’s House: Henrik
Ibsen.  New York: Spark Publishing, 2002.
10.

Yalom, Marian.  A
History of the Wife.  New York:
HarperCollins Publishers, 2002.

Living the Lie in Ibsen’s “A Doll House”

Henrik
Ibsen’s “A Doll House” presents a woman, Nora, who has been
under the proverbial thumb her entire life; that of her father’s
and then later when she comes to marry Torvald Helmer, a man who
comes to take the place of the paternal authority figure in her life.
Both are men who did not truly love her but were only in love with
the idea of a beautiful girl or woman that belonged to them.  And
likewise Nora is not in love with the man she married, but with the
idea of pleasing a man who held such control over her.  She does not
immediately recognize this since she is filling the role of
submissive housewife that is expected of her.  In a sense all
characters in “A Doll House,” not just Nora and Torvald, are
living lies whether they realize it or not.

Nora’s
love for Torvald, or what she perceives to be love for him, is the
overwhelming element throughout the play.  From the beginning Nora is
presented as a subservient and submissive person who caters to her
husband’s every whim and allows him to treat her as a child, or
pet.  The names he uses, such as “little lark” and “little
squirrel,” are pet names, typically used when one speaks to a child
or someone who does not command respect equal to that of an adult.
Nora however never displays any resentment towards this behavior and
in fact seems to take joy when Torvald refers to her with those
terms.  They can certainly be terms of endearment, however the
connotation they carry are not meant to be viewed in a positive
light.  This can be viewed as Nora’s oblivious view of her
relationship to Torvald, which she comes to realize at the end of Act
III when she says “You don’t understand me, and I have never
understood you either–before tonight” (Ibsen III).  Nora’s
“happiness” in her marriage, then, is more like blissful
ignorance as she does all she can to please her husband but does not
stop to take stock of herself and what matters to her.

Later,
Nora lies not once but twice about her eating macaroons, which
Torvald does not like as he believes it harms her teeth.  She lies to
him when he directly asks her if she has been eating macaroons, then
the second time to Doctor Rank when he asks her where she got them,
telling him Kristine brought them.  Ibsen shows that Nora’s
relationship with Torvald is in such a bad state that she resorts to
covering up even the most innocent lies.  These are only the tip of
the iceberg as Nora then reveals to Kristine, in a fit of defensive
pride against Kristine’s accusation that Nora is a child, that Nora
was in fact responsible for saving her husband’s life when she
borrowed money to take him on a recuperative trip to Italy.  She
declines to tell Torvald and instead pays the debt in secret from her
allowance.  As she says, “how painful and humiliating it
would be for Torvald, with his manly independence, to know that he
owed me anything!” (Ibsen I).  It is her fear of hurting Torvald’s
pride and not love that prevents her from telling him the truth about
the loan.  Ibsen’s belief was that women, as
people, should be treated equally, and if they are not treated
equally then there can be no love, at least not the romantic love a
man and woman feel for one another (Freedman 92).

Nora
initially believes she loves Torvald the way he is, along with the
lifestyle he has practically chosen for her.  Torvald likewise feels
that he loves Nora for who she is and that the love is genuine and
pure, when he in fact loves her for the part she plays for his
benefit (“Torvald Helmer”).  He does not realize that the love he
feels is false as we come to realize in the play’s course of
events.  Torvald is following the typical male gender role of the
time as a controlling husband.  At the mid point of Act I, Nora asks
Torvald if he would consider giving a job to Kristine.  He is
hesitant, since he believes that a woman’s place is in the home.
Later, after Krogstad has paid Nora a visit in Act I, Torvald
comments on his belief regarding forgery and how it affects the home:
“Almost everyone who has gone to the bad early in life has
had a deceitful mother.”  Nora asks him why he says only the mother
is responsible, clearly shaken by Krogstad’s threat to reveal her
own lie regarding the loan and forgery, and he responds: “It seems
most commonly to be the mother’s influence, though naturally a bad
father’s would have the same result” (Ibsen Act I), the latter part
meant to apply to Krogstad to whom he was referring.  Although
Torvald appears to be a good and honest man it is revealed that he in
fact harbors his own secrets and denials regarding his wife, and in
fact his very view on his own life.  Further into Act II Doctor Rank
comments on Torvald’s ability to handle serious news: “Helmer
with his sensitivity has such a sharp distaste for anything ugly”
(Ibsen).  It is almost as if Torvald is unable to handle life as a
serious matter outside of his own selfish ambitions.  He simply
desires beauty and wealth and a happy home, as he tells Nora on
numerous occasions.  Torvald is perhaps the one character that does
not fully learn what it means to be truthful and therefore more
satisfied with one’s life as he is left alone in his house at the
end of the play.

Although
Nora and Torvald’s relationship is the key display of living in a
marital lie, there are other examples to be found.  During Kristine
and Nora’s initial conversation upon Kristine’s arrival, she
explains to Nora that she married not out of love but out of
necessity, as she “was justified in refusing his offer”
(Ibsen I).  Her mother was ill and two younger brothers needed to be
cared for, and so she married a man she did not love.  In the end she
was left alone with no children and penniless when her husband’s
business went under, forced to work various odd jobs in order to
support her brothers and mother for three more years.  The irony is
that Kristine was in love with Krogstad before she married Mr. Linde,
and only now after returning to the town does she admit to him that
she loves him and wants to marry him.  When he questions her
intentions and wonders if she is doing it to help Nora, Kristine
tells him, “when you’ve sold yourself once for someone else, you
never do it again” (Ibsen I).  She sold herself into a lie, a sham
marriage, once, and now she is hoping to Krogstad in the hopes of
finding something real.  

Hidden
desire is also revealed as Nora attempts to coyly entice Doctor Rank
to convince Torvald to keep Krogstad in his position at the bank.
After he has revealed that he will die soon, a fact he wants kept
from Torvald until after his death, Nora speaks playfully with Doctor
Rank, using deception and feminine wiles to subtly get her way with
Doctor Rank.  Even as she faces certain doom (doom to her in any
case), Nora continues to use the only skills available to her which
are lies and deception.  After speaking with him and showing the
doctor the stockings she had purchased, Doctor Rank is unable to
contain himself.  He admits, truthfully, to Nora that he loves her
and has been in love with her for a long while, and only because of
the friendship with Torvald has he been unable to admit the truth to
her.  When faced with this truth Nora recoils and decides she wants
nothing to do with Doctor Rank.  Although it is an unpleasant
experience for Nora she is once again faced with another instance of
hidden secrets and lies.  It is around this time that she begins to
feel overwhelmed by the weight of the secret loan she borrowed in
order to pay for her family’s trip to Italy, Krogstad’s threat to
blackmail her in order to secure his position at the bank, and the
ongoing doubt in her mind about whether or not she should even remain
in the household; perhaps, she believes, it would be best to kill
herself to spare her husband the shame and trouble of dealing with
all of the lies.  When faced with such hidden secrets Nora can only
think of her husband who she believes is a good and honorable man.

In
the cavalcade of deeply personal and selfish lies that are presented
throughout the play is the foremost among them and the critical
problem for Nora as the play’s protagonist: Krogstad’s threat to
blackmail her if she does not help him secure her position in the
bank.  Krogstad reveals through this threat that he initially lost
his reputation in the community when he became a forger several years
before the play takes place, and Torvald himself calls out Torvald’s
rather unsavory reputation as a valid reason not to allow the man to
remain in his position at the bank (although he later reveals the
truth that he felt Krogstad was simply not showing him enough
respect).  As a result it becomes very difficult for Krogstad to
maintain his position at the bank which he needs in order to maintain
his family, although as he states in Act II that for the last year
and a half he has “not had a hand in anything dishonourable, amid
all the time I have been struggling in most restricted circumstances”
(Ibsen II).  He uses his past when he appeals to Nora, who herself
was guilty of forgery when she signed her father’s name to get the
loan, and although he is attempting to live as an honest man he still
not above blackmailing someone to retain his livelihood.

With
all this lying and deception present throughout the first two acts we
learn that all of the characters are in a sense miserable though it
does not appear so on the surface.  Nora is in a sham marriage which
she is blissfully unaware of; Torvald treats his wife as a doll,
treating her as a helpless child that needs his constant attention
when she is more than capable of taking care of herself as a grown
human being; Kristine reveals that she lived a lie in order to marry
for money, albeit with questionably good reason, then was forced to
work difficult jobs to sustain herself and family when the man she
married died and left her with nothing; Krogstad is still suffering
from his forgery accusation years before and uses blackmail to
attempt to keep his job; and even the poorly Doctor Rank who is great
friends with Torvald and Nora reveals that he is sick with a disease
that he prefers to keep secret from Torvald and has been harboring a
deep desire for Nora that he decides to reveal before his death.  In
Act III all the characters come to a type of acceptance about the
truth of things (either true love such as with Krogstad and Kristine,
or death with no secrets as with Doctor Rank), but no one more so
than Nora.  All these characters are meant to be compared and
contrasted to Nora’s own struggle with the truth behind the lies
because out of all the characters in the play she is the one who
learns the most about the nature of truth and what it means to be
true not only with everyone around her but with herself as well.
Although she departs from Torvald’s household with a door slam and
on serious terms Nora takes a vital step towards her emotional growth
and ultimate happiness as a human being.

Works Cited

Fjelde, Rolf.  Ibsen:
Four Major Plays Volume I.  New
York: New American Library, 2006.  vvii-xxxiii.

Freedman, Estelle.  The
Essential Feminist Reader.  New
York: Modern Library, 2007.  92-98.

Ibsen, Henrik.  “A Doll House.”  Living
Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama.
Ed. John C. Brereton.  New York: Longman, 2007.  1562-1611.

Jackson, Stevi.  Women’s
Studies: Essential Readings.  New
York: New York University Press, 1993.

“Torvald Helmer.”  SparkNotes: A Doll’s House: Henrik
Ibsen.  New York: Spark Publishing, 2002.
10.

Yalom, Marian.  A
History of the Wife.  New York:
HarperCollins Publishers, 2002.

blonde, freckles, skinny, short

Held you. You was
so small. Didn’t want to
tell how it felt to tower
over you; you, a sea
of freckles that you tried to
hide behind powder
and big (oh god, huge) eyes
that halt life’s momentum.

As mush, utterly,
in thin pale hands.

Could throw you, I could,
far and away from me;
was that small.
Hated being small.
Wore high, high boots
and low, low tops, but you was
always small. Younger in years
and yet your soul the wiser by far.

And we could never be,
could we? You was good,
I was bad. Tale neverending—
how’d that go again?

“You contain yourself,”
your words to the point. “Passion burns;
I want to see you, feel you
burn brightly in the sky.
Let yourself go. Don’t run away,
don’t dread. You will hurt me as
hurtful is your way. No, simple man,
perfection is a lie, but truth is so
beautiful. Be you; don’t spare me. I am here
when the curtain falls.”

“Can’t. I seen pains,”
my words of the fearful, “in a forgotten
place where the toil of
love brings down the
house built on mud. Poorly
chosen, unwisely rushed.”
And yet, brave soul, you gave me hands,
and rested the freckly face against
my coffin of sentiment.
Inhaled the gold curls; fell (for a while).

Freckles bared, small hands
reaching. I could not hold for long.

blonde, freckles, skinny, short

Held you. You was
so small. Didn’t want to
tell how it felt to tower
over you; you, a sea
of freckles that you tried to
hide behind powder
and big (oh god, huge) eyes
that halt life’s momentum.

As mush, utterly,
in thin pale hands.

Could throw you, I could,
far and away from me;
was that small.
Hated being small.
Wore high, high boots
and low, low tops, but you was
always small. Younger in years
and yet your soul the wiser by far.

And we could never be,
could we? You was good,
I was bad. Tale neverending—
how’d that go again?

“You contain yourself,”
your words to the point. “Passion burns;
I want to see you, feel you
burn brightly in the sky.
Let yourself go. Don’t run away,
don’t dread. You will hurt me as
hurtful is your way. No, simple man,
perfection is a lie, but truth is so
beautiful. Be you; don’t spare me. I am here
when the curtain falls.”

“Can’t. I seen pains,”
my words of the fearful, “in a forgotten
place where the toil of
love brings down the
house built on mud. Poorly
chosen, unwisely rushed.”
And yet, brave soul, you gave me hands,
and rested the freckly face against
my coffin of sentiment.
Inhaled the gold curls; fell (for a while).

Freckles bared, small hands
reaching. I could not hold for long.

The Indecisiveness’ the Thing

Shakespeare’s
“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark” portrays a man who confronts great
challenges in his long and troubled quest to avenge his father’s
death.  However, it is undoubtedly Hamlet’s own choices stemming
from his indecisive nature that create the biggest hurdles in his
plans for vengeance.  There are many reasons for Hamlet’s
indecision throughout the play, most of which come from a lack of
opportunity, too much analysis and thought, issue with depression and
melancholy, issues with his mother and Oedipal feelings towards her,
and finally doubt both in the ghost that set him upon the quest in
the first place and his own motives.


From the onset of the first scene with Hamlet we find him accompanied
by other characters nearly all the time, and ironically the only
character Hamlet does not find himself alone with is Laertes, the
very man who would wound and lead him to his death in the final
scene.  As such, Hamlet has less opportunities to act out his revenge
because he is not free to wander about alone, and is forced to plot
an elaborate plan to first find out if Claudius is indeed guilty
(doubt being another factor in his indecisiveness, covered later in
this paper), then to actually kill Claudius, which ends up happening
more as a result of actions that were beyond his control than his own
clandestine scheming.  Of course as anyone who knows the story of
Hamlet is aware, he was actually presented with the one opportunity
to kill Claudius at the end of Act III, scene iii, when he comes upon
Claudius in the middle of prayer.  He decides, at the last moment,
not to kill Claudius when he has the perfect opportunity to do so.
As Hamlet states, “O, this is hire and salary, not revenge”
(Shakespeare 1507).  He
tells himself that to kill Claudius during his prayer would send him
to heaven, which is a mercy that Hamlet’s father did not get when
he was killed in his sleep.  Of course the ultimate irony in the
scene is that Claudius was not praying sincerely, and had Hamlet
killed him Claudius would not have gone to heaven: “My words fly
up, my thoughts remain below: / Words without thoughts never to
heaven go” (Shakespeare 1507).

If
there is one thing Hamlet does not lack it’s introspective
analysis.  All of “Hamlet” can be considered one long internal
monologue, even if Hamlet technically only has six soliloquies in
which he speaks to himself.  It is to the point where one could
consider Hamlet to be much too self-critical.  He simply thinks too
much.  In Act 2, scene ii, Hamlet states to Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern, “there is nothing either good or bad but thinking
makes it so” (Shakespeare 1477).  So, even Hamlet himself remarks
on the notion that too much thinking can amplify an emotion or
situation beyond the simplicity of what it really is.  That Hamlet
should see this flaw in himself and yet continue to perpetuate it is
somewhat odd, but then many of Hamlet’s actions seemed in contrast
to his goal of getting revenge.  Another aspect of his goal that
Hamlet considers is the fact that he has to kill a man.  When
considering conscience Hamlet remarks:

Thus
conscience does make cowards of us all,

And
thus the native hue of resolution

Is
sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And
enterprises of great pitch and moment

With
this regard their currents turn awry

And
lose the name of action (Shakespeare 1490).

Too much thought,
then, could be viewed as a result of the conscience, and all momentum
gained in the initial flurry of decidedness is lost when the
conscience comes into play and consequences are considered.  Thinking
too much about what he is striving to do leads Hamlet to question if
the delays in his plan are caused by “Bestial oblivion” or by
“some craven scruple / Of thinking too precisely on the event . .
.” (Shakespeare 1520).  He begins to wonder if, perhaps, thinking
too much about what he has to do is causing him to have second
thoughts.  Once again Hamlet himself tells the viewer or reader that
he is having difficulty remaining resolute in his plan to kill
Claudius.

Considering
the internal conflict in Hamlet it is perhaps not surprising that he
should feel depression, causing him to ponder his thoughts and
actions from a resigned point of view and lead to more indecision and
hesitation.  Hamlet’s depressed mood is established from the first
scene, when Claudius urges Hamlet to snap out of his mourning, which
he terms “obstinate condolement” and “unmanly” (Shakespeare
1451).  Hamlet soliloquizes, “But break my heart, for I must hold
my tongue” (Shakespeare 1453).  Hamlet wants to speak truths and
let it be known how he feels, however he holds himself back and is
thus driven further into his depressed mood by his reluctance to
speak openly about his emotions.  Hamlet’s shifts in mood, which
appear to those around him as madness, would have been symptoms of
one of the so-called humors known as melancholy (Hunt 125).  The term
“melancholia,” in Shakespeare’s time, encompassed a variety of
psychological ailments including depression and schizophrenia, and
Hamlet is even known in literature as the “Melancholy Dane”
(“Melancholia”).  Given Hamlet’s state of mind after the loss
of his father, the duty required of him, and his uncle’s marriage
to his mother, Hamlet could very well have been suffering from
serious depression beyond the scope of mere emotional sadness, and
those in a state of depression are anything but sure of themselves.


The relation between Hamlet and Gertrude, his mother, plays an
important role both in the hatred for Claudius and Hamlet’s
indecision and careful planning, for as the ghost warned him, “nor
let thy soul contrive / Against thy mother aught.  Leave her to
heaven…” (Shakespeare 1464).  Gertrude
becomes greatly concerned for Hamlet as his initial mourning over the
death of his father extends into depression and perceived madness,
particularly by the time of the play within a play that takes place
in Act III.  Likewise, Hamlet’s feelings towards and about his
mother are strong throughout the play.  The relationship is
established during the court scene in Act I, scene ii, when Gertrude
tells Hamlet, “Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, / And let
thine eye look like a friend on Denmark” (Shakespeare 1450).  A
loving request, certainly, but Hamlet’s reproachful response later
in the scene is somewhat less endearing: “Seems, madam! nay it is;
I know not ‘seems’” (Shakespeare 1450).  This establishes that
something certainly is rotten in the state of Denmark for Hamlet to
speak to his mother in such a way.  After the ghost has warned Hamlet
not to bother his mother he becomes more aggressive regarding her
relationship with Claudius.  One rather large point in Hamlet’s
disdain for Claudius is the fact that he married his mother so soon
after his father died, and in fact he makes frequent references to
how little time has passed between King Hamlet’s death and
Gertrude’s remarriage, the first instance being at the court in
scene ii: “O, God, a beast, that wants discourse of reason, / Would
have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle, / … Within a month…”
(Shakespeare 1452).  Indeed it would seem that upon the marriage to
Claudius, Gertrude became inseparable from him in Hamlet’s eyes.
He refers to Claudius as “dear mother” since “man and wife is
one flesh” (Shakespeare 1518).  Claudius essentially takes the role
of Hamlet’s father;  in terms of the classic Oedipal complex it
means that the son, on some unconscious level, wishes to kill the
father in order to be with the mother (Hunt 138).  Killing Claudius
would clear the path to Gertrude’s bed, and the feelings roused
within Hamlet as a result cause him great frustration that he takes
out on both Gertrude and his lover Ophelia, declaring to the latter
in Act III, scene ii, “Or, if thou wilt needs / marry, marry a
fool; for wise men know well enough / what monsters you make of them”
(Shakespeare 1491).  Following Polonius’ murder, Hamlet becomes
more obsessed with the physical aspects of Gertrude’s marriage to
Claudius, and becomes abusive until the ghost appears to remind
Hamlet of his promise not to hurt his mother; “O, step between her
and her fighting soul! / Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. /
Speak to her, Hamlet” (Shakespeare 1511).  Hamlet calms down, but
not before demanding that she promise to not sleep in the same bed as
Claudius.


That scene brings up what is perhaps the driving force behind
Hamlet’s indecision in Acts I and II: the ghost.  The wandering
spirit of his deceased father, doomed to wander the Earth in
purgatory as a result of being murdered before he could absolved for
his sins.  He begins by believing the ghost in Act I when he states
that “this vision here, / It is an honest Ghost” (Shakespeare
1466).  However, he soon begins to question the validity of the
ghost’s request for vengeance.  As he remarks in the second
soliloquy when considering that the ghost of his father may be the
devil tricking him, “Out of my weakness and my melancholy, / As he
is very potent with such spirits, / Abuses me to damn me…”
(Shakespeare 1487).  He finally tests the ghost’s claims regarding
Claudius in Act III when Hamlet tells Horatio that Claudius’
reaction to the Mousetrap will reveal if “It is a damnèd Ghost
that we have seen” (Shakespeare 1495).  When Claudius calls for the
lights and leaves during the play, Hamlet confidently tells Horatio,
“I’ll take the Ghost’s word for a thousand pound”
(Shakespeare 1501).  His doubt over the ghost’s claim regarding
Claudius is finally settled, allowing for some resolve in an
otherwise tremulous psyche.


While there are indeed many reasons that might explain Hamlet’s
indecisiveness it is ultimately Hamlet’s doubt in himself and his
ambitious motives that hold him back.  In Act III, Hamlet tells
Ophelia that although he is moderately virtuous, “yet I could
accuse me of such things that it were better / my mother had not
borne me: I am very proud, / revengeful, ambitious…” (Shakespeare
1491).  Hamlet knows full well that he is not infallible; he is no
saint in the sordid affairs that occur within the walls of Elsinore
after his arrival.  In Act III, Hamlet tells Rosencrantz that his
“distemper” is because “I lack advancement” (Shakespeare
1503), meaning that while Claudius occupies the throne, Hamlet
cannot.  He ponders the possibility that he is jealous of the fact
that Claudius took the throne when it should have rightfully been
passed on to Hamlet after the death of his father.  Hamlet tells
Horatio that Claudius had “Popped in between th’election and my
hopes” (Shakespeare 1544), indicating that Hamlet had anticipated
being chosen by the people to succeed his father.  This would of
course also sow seeds of distrust both in his own ability to lead as
he believed he would have been voted into the royal office, and in
his ability to separate the goal of vengeance for his father’s
death from his own ambitions for the crown.  Hamlet is left to doubt
himself until the end of the play when he says with dying breath
after watching Gertrude, Claudius, and Laertes die: “Heaven make
thee free of it! I follow thee,” and to Horatio, “But let it be.
Horatio, I am dead…” (Shakespeare 1552).

Hamlet
the Indecisive.  There is perhaps no title that sums up the character
of Hamlet better, and indeed describes why the play takes as many
turns as it does throughout the path to vengeance (literary and
dramatic plot devices not withstanding).  Hamlet was of course in a
very stressed state of mind and thus did have reason to consider his
choices carefully and ponder his true intentions, but there is no
doubt that such indecision is what led Hamlet down the twisted path
which leads to not only Claudius’ death but that of himself and
several others.  One cannot help but wonder if more decisive action
would have led to a quick vengeance and less drama (no pun intended)
for the Prince of Denmark.

Works Cited

Hunt, Marvin W.  Looking
for Hamlet.  New York: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2007.

“Melancholia.”  Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.  1
Apr 2008, 00:31 UTC.  Wikimedia Foundation, Inc.  5 May 2008.
<http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Melancholia&oldid=202431586>.

Shakespeare, William.  “Hamlet, Prince of
Denmark.”  Living Literature: An
Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama.
Ed. John C. Brereton.  New York: Longman, 2007.  1443-1554.

The Indecisiveness’ the Thing

Shakespeare’s
“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark” portrays a man who confronts great
challenges in his long and troubled quest to avenge his father’s
death.  However, it is undoubtedly Hamlet’s own choices stemming
from his indecisive nature that create the biggest hurdles in his
plans for vengeance.  There are many reasons for Hamlet’s
indecision throughout the play, most of which come from a lack of
opportunity, too much analysis and thought, issue with depression and
melancholy, issues with his mother and Oedipal feelings towards her,
and finally doubt both in the ghost that set him upon the quest in
the first place and his own motives.


From the onset of the first scene with Hamlet we find him accompanied
by other characters nearly all the time, and ironically the only
character Hamlet does not find himself alone with is Laertes, the
very man who would wound and lead him to his death in the final
scene.  As such, Hamlet has less opportunities to act out his revenge
because he is not free to wander about alone, and is forced to plot
an elaborate plan to first find out if Claudius is indeed guilty
(doubt being another factor in his indecisiveness, covered later in
this paper), then to actually kill Claudius, which ends up happening
more as a result of actions that were beyond his control than his own
clandestine scheming.  Of course as anyone who knows the story of
Hamlet is aware, he was actually presented with the one opportunity
to kill Claudius at the end of Act III, scene iii, when he comes upon
Claudius in the middle of prayer.  He decides, at the last moment,
not to kill Claudius when he has the perfect opportunity to do so.
As Hamlet states, “O, this is hire and salary, not revenge”
(Shakespeare 1507).  He
tells himself that to kill Claudius during his prayer would send him
to heaven, which is a mercy that Hamlet’s father did not get when
he was killed in his sleep.  Of course the ultimate irony in the
scene is that Claudius was not praying sincerely, and had Hamlet
killed him Claudius would not have gone to heaven: “My words fly
up, my thoughts remain below: / Words without thoughts never to
heaven go” (Shakespeare 1507).

If
there is one thing Hamlet does not lack it’s introspective
analysis.  All of “Hamlet” can be considered one long internal
monologue, even if Hamlet technically only has six soliloquies in
which he speaks to himself.  It is to the point where one could
consider Hamlet to be much too self-critical.  He simply thinks too
much.  In Act 2, scene ii, Hamlet states to Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern, “there is nothing either good or bad but thinking
makes it so” (Shakespeare 1477).  So, even Hamlet himself remarks
on the notion that too much thinking can amplify an emotion or
situation beyond the simplicity of what it really is.  That Hamlet
should see this flaw in himself and yet continue to perpetuate it is
somewhat odd, but then many of Hamlet’s actions seemed in contrast
to his goal of getting revenge.  Another aspect of his goal that
Hamlet considers is the fact that he has to kill a man.  When
considering conscience Hamlet remarks:

Thus
conscience does make cowards of us all,

And
thus the native hue of resolution

Is
sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And
enterprises of great pitch and moment

With
this regard their currents turn awry

And
lose the name of action (Shakespeare 1490).

Too much thought,
then, could be viewed as a result of the conscience, and all momentum
gained in the initial flurry of decidedness is lost when the
conscience comes into play and consequences are considered.  Thinking
too much about what he is striving to do leads Hamlet to question if
the delays in his plan are caused by “Bestial oblivion” or by
“some craven scruple / Of thinking too precisely on the event . .
.” (Shakespeare 1520).  He begins to wonder if, perhaps, thinking
too much about what he has to do is causing him to have second
thoughts.  Once again Hamlet himself tells the viewer or reader that
he is having difficulty remaining resolute in his plan to kill
Claudius.

Considering
the internal conflict in Hamlet it is perhaps not surprising that he
should feel depression, causing him to ponder his thoughts and
actions from a resigned point of view and lead to more indecision and
hesitation.  Hamlet’s depressed mood is established from the first
scene, when Claudius urges Hamlet to snap out of his mourning, which
he terms “obstinate condolement” and “unmanly” (Shakespeare
1451).  Hamlet soliloquizes, “But break my heart, for I must hold
my tongue” (Shakespeare 1453).  Hamlet wants to speak truths and
let it be known how he feels, however he holds himself back and is
thus driven further into his depressed mood by his reluctance to
speak openly about his emotions.  Hamlet’s shifts in mood, which
appear to those around him as madness, would have been symptoms of
one of the so-called humors known as melancholy (Hunt 125).  The term
“melancholia,” in Shakespeare’s time, encompassed a variety of
psychological ailments including depression and schizophrenia, and
Hamlet is even known in literature as the “Melancholy Dane”
(“Melancholia”).  Given Hamlet’s state of mind after the loss
of his father, the duty required of him, and his uncle’s marriage
to his mother, Hamlet could very well have been suffering from
serious depression beyond the scope of mere emotional sadness, and
those in a state of depression are anything but sure of themselves.


The relation between Hamlet and Gertrude, his mother, plays an
important role both in the hatred for Claudius and Hamlet’s
indecision and careful planning, for as the ghost warned him, “nor
let thy soul contrive / Against thy mother aught.  Leave her to
heaven…” (Shakespeare 1464).  Gertrude
becomes greatly concerned for Hamlet as his initial mourning over the
death of his father extends into depression and perceived madness,
particularly by the time of the play within a play that takes place
in Act III.  Likewise, Hamlet’s feelings towards and about his
mother are strong throughout the play.  The relationship is
established during the court scene in Act I, scene ii, when Gertrude
tells Hamlet, “Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, / And let
thine eye look like a friend on Denmark” (Shakespeare 1450).  A
loving request, certainly, but Hamlet’s reproachful response later
in the scene is somewhat less endearing: “Seems, madam! nay it is;
I know not ‘seems’” (Shakespeare 1450).  This establishes that
something certainly is rotten in the state of Denmark for Hamlet to
speak to his mother in such a way.  After the ghost has warned Hamlet
not to bother his mother he becomes more aggressive regarding her
relationship with Claudius.  One rather large point in Hamlet’s
disdain for Claudius is the fact that he married his mother so soon
after his father died, and in fact he makes frequent references to
how little time has passed between King Hamlet’s death and
Gertrude’s remarriage, the first instance being at the court in
scene ii: “O, God, a beast, that wants discourse of reason, / Would
have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle, / … Within a month…”
(Shakespeare 1452).  Indeed it would seem that upon the marriage to
Claudius, Gertrude became inseparable from him in Hamlet’s eyes.
He refers to Claudius as “dear mother” since “man and wife is
one flesh” (Shakespeare 1518).  Claudius essentially takes the role
of Hamlet’s father;  in terms of the classic Oedipal complex it
means that the son, on some unconscious level, wishes to kill the
father in order to be with the mother (Hunt 138).  Killing Claudius
would clear the path to Gertrude’s bed, and the feelings roused
within Hamlet as a result cause him great frustration that he takes
out on both Gertrude and his lover Ophelia, declaring to the latter
in Act III, scene ii, “Or, if thou wilt needs / marry, marry a
fool; for wise men know well enough / what monsters you make of them”
(Shakespeare 1491).  Following Polonius’ murder, Hamlet becomes
more obsessed with the physical aspects of Gertrude’s marriage to
Claudius, and becomes abusive until the ghost appears to remind
Hamlet of his promise not to hurt his mother; “O, step between her
and her fighting soul! / Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. /
Speak to her, Hamlet” (Shakespeare 1511).  Hamlet calms down, but
not before demanding that she promise to not sleep in the same bed as
Claudius.


That scene brings up what is perhaps the driving force behind
Hamlet’s indecision in Acts I and II: the ghost.  The wandering
spirit of his deceased father, doomed to wander the Earth in
purgatory as a result of being murdered before he could absolved for
his sins.  He begins by believing the ghost in Act I when he states
that “this vision here, / It is an honest Ghost” (Shakespeare
1466).  However, he soon begins to question the validity of the
ghost’s request for vengeance.  As he remarks in the second
soliloquy when considering that the ghost of his father may be the
devil tricking him, “Out of my weakness and my melancholy, / As he
is very potent with such spirits, / Abuses me to damn me…”
(Shakespeare 1487).  He finally tests the ghost’s claims regarding
Claudius in Act III when Hamlet tells Horatio that Claudius’
reaction to the Mousetrap will reveal if “It is a damnèd Ghost
that we have seen” (Shakespeare 1495).  When Claudius calls for the
lights and leaves during the play, Hamlet confidently tells Horatio,
“I’ll take the Ghost’s word for a thousand pound”
(Shakespeare 1501).  His doubt over the ghost’s claim regarding
Claudius is finally settled, allowing for some resolve in an
otherwise tremulous psyche.


While there are indeed many reasons that might explain Hamlet’s
indecisiveness it is ultimately Hamlet’s doubt in himself and his
ambitious motives that hold him back.  In Act III, Hamlet tells
Ophelia that although he is moderately virtuous, “yet I could
accuse me of such things that it were better / my mother had not
borne me: I am very proud, / revengeful, ambitious…” (Shakespeare
1491).  Hamlet knows full well that he is not infallible; he is no
saint in the sordid affairs that occur within the walls of Elsinore
after his arrival.  In Act III, Hamlet tells Rosencrantz that his
“distemper” is because “I lack advancement” (Shakespeare
1503), meaning that while Claudius occupies the throne, Hamlet
cannot.  He ponders the possibility that he is jealous of the fact
that Claudius took the throne when it should have rightfully been
passed on to Hamlet after the death of his father.  Hamlet tells
Horatio that Claudius had “Popped in between th’election and my
hopes” (Shakespeare 1544), indicating that Hamlet had anticipated
being chosen by the people to succeed his father.  This would of
course also sow seeds of distrust both in his own ability to lead as
he believed he would have been voted into the royal office, and in
his ability to separate the goal of vengeance for his father’s
death from his own ambitions for the crown.  Hamlet is left to doubt
himself until the end of the play when he says with dying breath
after watching Gertrude, Claudius, and Laertes die: “Heaven make
thee free of it! I follow thee,” and to Horatio, “But let it be.
Horatio, I am dead…” (Shakespeare 1552).

Hamlet
the Indecisive.  There is perhaps no title that sums up the character
of Hamlet better, and indeed describes why the play takes as many
turns as it does throughout the path to vengeance (literary and
dramatic plot devices not withstanding).  Hamlet was of course in a
very stressed state of mind and thus did have reason to consider his
choices carefully and ponder his true intentions, but there is no
doubt that such indecision is what led Hamlet down the twisted path
which leads to not only Claudius’ death but that of himself and
several others.  One cannot help but wonder if more decisive action
would have led to a quick vengeance and less drama (no pun intended)
for the Prince of Denmark.

Works Cited

Hunt, Marvin W.  Looking
for Hamlet.  New York: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2007.

“Melancholia.”  Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.  1
Apr 2008, 00:31 UTC.  Wikimedia Foundation, Inc.  5 May 2008.
<http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Melancholia&oldid=202431586>.

Shakespeare, William.  “Hamlet, Prince of
Denmark.”  Living Literature: An
Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama.
Ed. John C. Brereton.  New York: Longman, 2007.  1443-1554.

first orgasm

There are not many songs, or singers for that matter, that affect me emotionally. In fact I pride myself on not being one of the weak ones that weep while watching a poignant film or crack at the sound of a beautiful melody. It does not matter how apt or resonant the music is, I simply will not let it happen.

So when I say that “first orgasm” as sung by Amanda Palmer and performed by The Dresden Dolls reaches me to the core of my being then you may just grasp how much I dig it. It means this song, the words coming from Palmer’s voice and the heart-wrenching piano accompaniment, all combine into such a powerful tune that an average uncouth guy in his mid twenties verging on the edge of fratbrodom is left in awe every time the song plays. It’s as if I remain frozen in time, in space, and all that exists around me ceases to be. Listening to this song is, in fact, a special occasion, and I am glad that such a song never makes it to the public airwaves because I shudder to think what would happen if I should be struck by a “first orgasm” attack on the public roadways. No mailbox or parked car would be safe.

Overly dramatic description of my own experiences with the song aside, it really is a great listen. Palmer’s voice is steady and unbelievably beautiful, and she certainly holds her notes well. However, it’s the moments where the voice wavers that get to me. In those moments she does more than sing. She conveys the hard lament of a persona that experiences the sexual nirvana of the lonely. The song begins very serenely, with the woman describing her morning routine and describing what she sees as she sits at her computer. During the fun she wanders off and decides that a little relief is in order, and in this song it is exactly that: relief. A momentary distraction, a tiny sneeze… another part of the routine. Not quite the great and wondrous experience spoken of by some and hoped for by many more, and that is perhaps why the words in the song resonated so strongly. Never before had I considered that the act of masturbation is merely part of a routine, something to get out of the way so that I may continue with the next item on the to-do list. Palmer expresses the notion well in this song and complements the message with the beauty of her singing and ivory tinkling. As she climaxes so does the music, becoming more dramatic to keep in step with the real highlight of the piece which is Palmer’s rousing vocals, until at last she peaks and begins the somber downslide, declaring that other people only complicate things. She can take of it herself. If only that were true…

first orgasm

it is a thursday
i get up early
it is a challenge
i’m usually lazy

i make some coffee
I eat some rice chex
and then i sit down
to check my inbox

i only read a word or two
i stare across the street and see the churches and the blue

the first orgasm of the morning
is cold and hard as hell
there won’t be any second coming
as far as i can tell

i arch my back cause
i’m very close now
it’s very cold here
by the window

there are some school kids
yelling and running
i barely notice
that i am cumming

the first orgasm of the morning
is like a fire drill
it’s nice to have a little warning
but not enjoyable

i am too busy to have friends
a lover would just complicate my plans
so i will never look for love again
i’m taking matters into my own hands

i think i could last at least a week without someone to hold me
i think i could last at least a week without someone to hold me
won’t you hold me?

copyright 2005 amanda palmer

http://www.dresdendolls.com/downloads_n_lyrics/lyrics/firstorgasm.htm

Time taken to find and purchase the song when I realized I needed to listen to it right now: 58 seconds. Number of times “first orgasm” played during the sporadic writing of this: 46.
Were you expecting a juicy story about the first coming? Well, I’ll leave that to you.

first orgasm

There are not many songs, or singers for that matter, that affect me emotionally. In fact I pride myself on not being one of the weak ones that weep while watching a poignant film or crack at the sound of a beautiful melody. It does not matter how apt or resonant the music is, I simply will not let it happen.

So when I say that “first orgasm” as sung by Amanda Palmer and performed by The Dresden Dolls reaches me to the core of my being then you may just grasp how much I dig it. It means this song, the words coming from Palmer’s voice and the heart-wrenching piano accompaniment, all combine into such a powerful tune that an average uncouth guy in his mid twenties verging on the edge of fratbrodom is left in awe every time the song plays. It’s as if I remain frozen in time, in space, and all that exists around me ceases to be. Listening to this song is, in fact, a special occasion, and I am glad that such a song never makes it to the public airwaves because I shudder to think what would happen if I should be struck by a “first orgasm” attack on the public roadways. No mailbox or parked car would be safe.

Overly dramatic description of my own experiences with the song aside, it really is a great listen. Palmer’s voice is steady and unbelievably beautiful, and she certainly holds her notes well. However, it’s the moments where the voice wavers that get to me. In those moments she does more than sing. She conveys the hard lament of a persona that experiences the sexual nirvana of the lonely. The song begins very serenely, with the woman describing her morning routine and describing what she sees as she sits at her computer. During the fun she wanders off and decides that a little relief is in order, and in this song it is exactly that: relief. A momentary distraction, a tiny sneeze… another part of the routine. Not quite the great and wondrous experience spoken of by some and hoped for by many more, and that is perhaps why the words in the song resonated so strongly. Never before had I considered that the act of masturbation is merely part of a routine, something to get out of the way so that I may continue with the next item on the to-do list. Palmer expresses the notion well in this song and complements the message with the beauty of her singing and ivory tinkling. As she climaxes so does the music, becoming more dramatic to keep in step with the real highlight of the piece which is Palmer’s rousing vocals, until at last she peaks and begins the somber downslide, declaring that other people only complicate things. She can take of it herself. If only that were true…

first orgasm

it is a thursday
i get up early
it is a challenge
i’m usually lazy

i make some coffee
I eat some rice chex
and then i sit down
to check my inbox

i only read a word or two
i stare across the street and see the churches and the blue

the first orgasm of the morning
is cold and hard as hell
there won’t be any second coming
as far as i can tell

i arch my back cause
i’m very close now
it’s very cold here
by the window

there are some school kids
yelling and running
i barely notice
that i am cumming

the first orgasm of the morning
is like a fire drill
it’s nice to have a little warning
but not enjoyable

i am too busy to have friends
a lover would just complicate my plans
so i will never look for love again
i’m taking matters into my own hands

i think i could last at least a week without someone to hold me
i think i could last at least a week without someone to hold me
won’t you hold me?

copyright 2005 amanda palmer

http://www.dresdendolls.com/downloads_n_lyrics/lyrics/firstorgasm.htm

Time taken to find and purchase the song when I realized I needed to listen to it right now: 58 seconds. Number of times “first orgasm” played during the sporadic writing of this: 46.
Were you expecting a juicy story about the first coming? Well, I’ll leave that to you.