It is easy to think of the play Hamlet in the form of a revenge story; it does come squarely from that tradition. To do so is to cast Hamlet as a failure. He is famous for his inability to commit to his revenge, even when armed and in the same room as his intended victim (III.3,IV.3). He himself remarks on it throughout the play. But the greatness of the play lives in the fact that it is not a simple revenge tragedy. Rather than a straightforward plot of a man betrayed taking revenge on those who have wronged him, Hamlet is the story of a man still actively grieving, then flung into a world where he cannot trust those closest to him. He has been betrayed, and how widespread that betrayal goes he can hardly determine. Certainly his uncle is guilty if the ghost and his senses can be believed. If Claudius, possibly Gertrude. Possibly also Polonius, his uncle's most trusted ally. He cannot even trust his own love, for while he can believe she had
nothing to do with the potential conspiracy he cannot trust her not to
confide in her own father. Nearly every one is suspect. This uncertainty and suspicion are enough to drive a man mad. While other revenge heroes seem to be direct and unburdened in their journey for sweet revenge, Hamlet spends most of his time dealing with these much more realistic emotions. His confusion, hurt, grief, and despair color every move he makes in the play. For him revenge is not sweet but a complicated tangle of conflicting responsibilities and desires.
It is easy to view the play Hamlet as a simple revenge story, but to do so is to miss the wonderful microcosm of a life painfully lived, and does a great disservice to one of the most complex and wonderful characters in the whole of Shakespeare's canon.
