In a work of metaphysical twistiness, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s dialogue is often no less straightforward. This is especially true of the oxymoron that appears as they discuss the nature of Hamlet’s affliction in Act 2:
Guil: I think I have it. A man talking sense to himself is no madder than a man talking nonsense not to himself.
Ros: Or just as mad.
Guil: Or just as mad.
Ros: And he does both.
Guil: So there you are.
Ros: Stark raving sane.
“Stark raving sane” explodes the boundaries between sanity and insanity. Sanity and raving don’t often appear together, and yet in this context, they express an unlikely truth: Hamlet speaks so much “sense” that he has become “stark” and “raving.” He has seen through the apparent absurdities and frustrations of mortal existence, in which humans are powerful enough to think but powerless to control their own destiny. There is as much madness in the world’s method as there is method in madness.
Oxymorons like this reconcile the many contradictions within the play’s existential exploration. A coin flipped heads 90 consecutive times represents a probabilistic impossibility but also a crushing certainty. Fate is fixed, and yet humans can still “seize” a moment and “toss” it around. Nothing makes sense within the bounds of this play, which is designed to frustrate even reality itself. As Rosencrantz and Guildenstern run up against the limits of reason, their oxymorons and paradoxes break down the binaries of ordinary logic.