Hamlet resides in the halls of the literary greats. Among the Milton’s, the Dicken’s, the Chaucer’s, so on and so forth. Hamletter was created to mock that lofty stance and challenge its place in today’s society. Does Hamlett fit into the modern west? Into the mundane, ordinary life of a simple middle-management slob? Does Ordinary Joe belong in the realm of King against Prince? These are some of the ideas that were kept in mind while constructing this book.
This stanza is taken from Scene III where the King enters the confession box to confess his sins. Hamlet enters to hear his pleas for fogiveness. He has the opportunity to kill the King outright, but catches himself in an internal struggle.
Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.
When he is drunk asleep; or in his rage;
or in th'incestuous pleasure of his bed;
at game, a-swearing, or about some act
that has no relish of salvation in't-
then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
and that his soul may be as damn'd and black
as hell, whereto it goes.
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