Margaret Atwood Gertrude Talks Back
Margaret Atwood Gertrude Talks Back
Margaret Atwood Gertrude Talks Back
I always thought it was a mistake, calling you Hamlet. I mean, what kind of a name is that for a
young boy? It was your father’s idea. Nothing would do but that you had to be called after him.
Selfish. The other kids at school used to tease the life out of you. The nick-names! And those
Darling, please stop fidgeting with my mirror. That’ll be the third one you’ve broken.
Yes, I’ve seen those pictures, thank you very much. I know your father was handsomer than
Claudius. High brow, aquiline nose and so on, looked great in uniform. But handsome isn’t
everything, especially in a man, and far be it from me to speak ill of the dead, but I think it’s
about time I pointed out to you that your Dad just wasn’t a whole lot of fun. Noble, sure, I
grant
you. But Claudius, well, he likes a drink now and then. He appreciates a decent meal. He enjoys
a laugh, know what I mean? You don’t always have to be tiptoeing around because of some
By the way, darling, I wish you wouldn’t call your stepdad the bloat king. He does have a slight
The rank sweat of a what? My bed is certainly not enseamed, whatever that might be! A nasty
sty, indeed! Not that it’s any of your business, but I change those sheets twice a week, which is
more than you do, judging from that student slum pigpen in Wittenberg. I’ll certainly never visit
you there again without prior warning! I see that laundry of yours when you bring it home, and
not often enough either, by a long shot! Only when you run out of black socks.
And let me tell you, everyone sweats at a time like that, as you’d find out very soon if you ever
gave it a try. A real girlfriend would do you a heap of good. Not like that pasty-faced what’s-her-
15
name, all trussed up like a prize turkey in those touch-me- not corsets of hers. If you ask me
there’s something off about that girl. Borderline. Any little shock could push her right over the
edge.
Go get yourself someone more down-to- earth. Have a nice roll in the hay. Then you can talk to
No, darling, I am not mad at you. But I must say you’re an awful prig sometimes. Just like your
Dad. The Flesh, he’d say. You’d think it was dog dirt. You can excuse that in a young person,
they are always intolerant, but in someone his age it was getting, well, very hard to live with,
and
Some days I think it would have been better for both of us if you hadn’t been an only child. But
you realize who you have to thank for that. You have no idea what I used to put up with. And
every time I felt like a little, you know, just to warm up my ageing bones, it was like I’d
suggested murder.
Oh! You think what? You think Claudius murdered your Dad? Well, no wonder you’ve been so
If I’d known that, I could have put you straight in no time flat.
It was me.