let me tell you and let me go on
-
- $11.99
-
- $11.99
Publisher Description
Two novels from the perspective of Hamlet’s Ophelia—the first set before the events of the play, the second after—written entirely by remixing and repurposing the character’s dialogue from Shakespeare’s original text.
“So: now I come to speak.” With this line, Shakespeare’s Ophelia starts telling her story. In let me tell you, this newly revealed woman uses exactly the same words Shakespeare gave her in Hamlet, shifted as in a kaleidoscope to create a very different voice: her own. We hear her personal narrative from childhood to the moments before the start of the play, when she knows she has a fateful decision to make. Along the way, we discover whole new angles on her father, her brother, the prince, and other characters who come out from behind the curtain.
In let me go on, her decision made, she refashions herself. Emerging from her old world, she explores a new one, of magical variety yet coherent. As she goes in search of what she may still become, she meets a new cast of characters, some poignant, some hilarious. Paul Griffiths gives this remarkable protagonist—and us—a play-full of humor, poignancy, passion, adventure, and a great many surprises.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
This scintillating diptych from Griffiths (Mr. Beethoven), originally published in 2008 and 2023, respectively, uses only the 481 words spoken by Ophelia in Shakespeare's Hamlet. Here, Shakespeare's tragic heroine, named O, is at the heart of a new story, one that contains familiar elements from Hamlet, such as many of the original characters, but is set in a world that resembles a melancholy version of Lewis Carroll's Wonderland. In a memorable moment of Let Me Tell You, O is led by her maid to a "green door in the mountain," which opens into a chamber housing someone called the Lady Profound and her talking owl; in Let Me Go On, O sets out to meet a talking wishing well. Griffiths blends tragic elements into the fantastical tale. For instance, music "has gone for good," and Ophelia's mother (nonexistent in the original play) appears here as a dark, disturbed figure, described as "a length of hell"—one of many instances in which Griffith showcases his ability to create haunting images with a limited lexicon. Despite the story's pathos, Griffiths finds much room for keen wit, such as Polonius citing the lyrics to the Beatles' "Love Me Do." Shakespeare lovers will get a kick out of this playful experiment.
