Ophelia’s Suicide Letter Dear Hamlet, I thought I would be able to bottle up all of these emotions but it seems I cannot bear it any longer; I must let it all out. I must tell you, Hamlet, that living in this mad world is driving me to the brink of insanity. I am just so fed up with going about every single day persuading myself that I had ought to ignore it all and simply, sweetly smile. But why should I? Why should I sit around and let the likes of men like you order me around any longer? Yes Lord this, yes Lord that! Who do all of you men think you are?
Being ordered around by my father, brother and you, my former lover, completely frustrates me every time.
Am I your maid? Your slave? Your toy? You all speak to me with such disgusting disrespect. “Get thee to a nunnery” you say? Is it my fault that your mother is a despicable whore? Just because she did not wait a mere second to marry your uncle, it does not grant you the right to speak to me condescendingly like I have done the same.
All you men speak to women like they are simple objects of pleasure. May you lie in my lap you ask? Most certainly not.
I am not a prostitute whom you can come to whenever you please. We, I, am more than just a source of sexual gratification. Without us women, who would cook and clean for you men? It is quite evident that without us, you men are hopeless yet why is it that we are still miserably mistreated? Oh, this strange society we live in is so corrupted.
If we had been in an ideal world where women and men were thought of as equals, I would have most certainly spoken up for myself. But no, in this society, the chains of social rigidity confine me for being a woman.
I live each and every day without the freedom of speech or choice, forced to obey the commands of all men alike. Had I defied any orders, severe punishment would have definitely followed. The withstanding of such social inequality had been agitating me ever since I could remember; I was already hardly surviving. But on top of that, the tragedy of my father’s death had to strike! How can I go on with a peace of mind in the chaos of my beloved father’s death, the very man whom you, the other man I whole-heartedly loved, so cruelly murdered!
What sense does this make? Such a thought makes me tremble in utter disbelief. How could you have committed such a crime and not feel any sense of shame or guilt? Had you not any thought or consideration for my well being or stability of my emotional state when you committed such a sin? You didn’t, did you -since you did not think twice to confirm who it was behind the arras. I am curious, Hamlet, for what reason did you do such a terrible thing? What has he ever done to deserve such a foul fate? Has he wronged you in any way?
All he has done is loyally serve your family yet this is what he receives in return! It overwhelms me with great sadness. Moreover, not only have I lost my father, but it seems I have lost you as well, both mentally and physically. Following our separation, I still loved you Hamlet. But you, who pushed me away and branded me as damaged goods, have broken my fragile heart, have killed my father, someone who truly cared for me despite his demands, and have left me in utter despair. Oh it feels as if my world is suddenly falling apart!
I cannot go to you, Hamlet, for your hands are stained with my father’s blood and as of late, I can hardly speak to you as your mind seems to have plummeted to the depths of insanity! Yet at the same time, despite everything that has happened, I find myself unable to leave you for I am still very much in love with you. I am torn between you and my father but it seems that the both of you have already abandoned me to survive in this lonely and treacherous world on my own. There seems to be nothing left for me now.
This world is crashing down on me and without any care or concern from anyone, I am living solely as a victim in a vicious society with impossible expectations. Oh, what am I to do and where am I to go? I have contemplated over and over again but I can think of no other salvation but death in this choice-less existence. To perish would liberate me from my grief and despair and would give me an opportunity to make a decision of my own. Yes, it is the only way and thus, with this final letter, I may leave in peace. Farewell my love, Ophelia