Story: The Melancholy Dane

There's no escaping the truth -- there was no Prince Hamlet of Denmark. That didn't stop me (or thousands of other tourists) from visiting Castle Kronborg in Helsingør (Elsinore) last year. Neither does it stop "Hamlet" from being performed nightly at the castle during the summer. Whether or not there was a Shakespeare is still up for debate, but the plays do in fact exist, and "Hamlet" may be the greatest of them all. I was there too early in the year to catch a performance, but Shakespeare still weighed heavily on my mind.

Kronborg Slot, as it is called in Denmark, doesn't quite loom over the town of Helsingør, but I was there on a suitably gray and rainy day and the mood was perfect. Nothing could put a damper on my excitement at being there, not even being told that the castle had not been used as a royal residence by anyone, let alone by fictional royalty. Kronborg Slot was used to collect tolls from ships which passed through through the narrow Oresund. In fact, the reason the castle exists where it does is that the sound is at its most narrow at Helsingør. Sweden is so close at the spot that these days, Swedes frequently cross the sound to take advantage of the cheaper liquor found on the Danish side. Sweden was quite visible across the foggy water, seeming close enough that I briefly entertained the notion of swimming for it. I wondered if the water was cold enough that such a swim would be survivable without a wet suit.

Instead I climbed to the roof at the top of the tower, and got a view not only of the sound but of the inner walls and courtyard of the castle. It was raining intermittently, and I had the roof to myself. Gazing out over the famous castle, I felt the words rising to my mouth almost unconsciously.

"To be, or not to be..."

I recited the famous soliloquy as far as I could from memory (which is only until "end them"), as loudly as I thought I could get away with. Emboldened by the fun of it, I started over again, louder. No one in the courtyard looked up, no one came up the stairs to give me a funny look. I sighed contentedly, and after a few minutes I descended the tower. The rest of the castle was nice, but nothing could match the excitement I felt at the top, reciting the words of a fictional prince written 400 years ago. The only thing that could have improved the experience would have been the appearance of a ghost, beseeching me for help.

"Adieu, adieu, remember me..."