The Tempest - Prospero's Magic as the World of the Theatre It makes sense to me to see in this Shakespeare's sense of his own art--both what it can achieve and what it cannot. The theatre--that magical world of poetry, song, illusion, pleasing and threatening apparitions--can, like Prospero's magic, educate us into a better sense of ourselves, into a final acceptance of the world, a state in which we forgive and forget in the interests of the greater human community. The theatre, that is, can reconcile us to the joys of the human community so that we do not destroy our families in a search for righting past evils in a spirit of personal revenge or as crude assertions of our own egos. It can, in a very real sense, help us fully to understand the central Christian commitment to charity, to loving our neighbour as ourselves. The magic here brings about a total reconciliation of all levels of society from sophisticated rulers to semi-human brutes, momentarily holding off Machiavellian deceit, drunken foolishness, and animalistic rebellion--each person, no matter how he has lived, has a place in the magic circle at the end. And no one is asking any awkward questions. In the same way, Prospero's world can awaken the young imagination to the wonder and joy of the human community, can transform our perceptions of human beings into a "brave new world," full of beauty, promise, and love, and excite our imaginations with the prospects of living life in the midst of our fellow human beings. In the world of the Tempest, we have moved beyond tragedy. In this world Hamlet and Ophelia are happily united, the Ghost comes to life again and is reconciled with his brother, the old antagonisms are healed. Lear learns to lessen his demands on the world and to accept it with all its threats to his own ego. This is not a sentimental vision, an easily achieved resolution. It takes time--in this case sixteen years--and a measure of faith in the human community that one is prepared to hold onto in the face of urgent personal demands. This play seems to be saying that theatrical art, the magic of Prospero, can achieve what is not possible in the world of Milan, where everyone must always be on guard, because it's a Machiavellian world ruled by the realities of power and injury and there is no Ariel to serve us with the power of illusions. On this reading of the play, what would we make of Caliban, who stands in opposition to Prospero's power and who is its most immediate victim? This reading would probably stress (as many productions have always done) Caliban's dangerous, anarchic violence. He is an earth-animal (some intermediate form perhaps) who represents a clear and present danger, because he is not capable of being educated out of the state he was born into. Prospero's "civilizing" arts keep him in control, though with difficulty. Caliban is at times quite sensitive to the emotional qualities of Prospero's magic, especially the wonderful music he hears, but is too much in the grip of his raw instincts for rape and rebellion to respond with anything other than anger to his condition. Caliban might well be considered in some sense a natural slave (as D. H. Lawrence pointed out) because his idea of freedom from Prospero seems to involve becoming the slave of someone else, someone who will kill Prospero. So Caliban throws in his lot with two drunken Europeans, not having the wit to see them for what they are. Caliban is thus not so much interested in freedom as he is in rebellion; his violence is natural to him and is not an outgrowth of the way he is treated. Hence, Prospero's control of him through his magic is not only justified but necessary. Does Caliban undergo any sort of significant change at the ending of the play? There's a suggestion that he has learned something from the mistakes he has made, and his final comment ("I'll be wise hereafter,/ And seek for grace") may be a cryptic acknowledgment of some restraint. But he doesn't go with the Europeans and remains on his island. Caliban's future life has always sparked interest among certain writers, for there is a tradition of sequels to the Tempest in which Caliban is the central character (notably Browning's long dramatic monologue "Caliban on Setebos"). For all the potentially warm reconciliations at the end of the play, however, it is not without its potentially sobering ironies. And there is a good deal of discussion of just how unequivocal the celebration is at the end. For Prospero is no sentimentalist. He recognizes the silence of Sebastian and Antonio at the end for what it is, an indication that they have not changed, that they are going to return to Naples and Milan the same people as left it, political double dealers, ambitious and potentially murderous power seekers, just as Stephano and Trinculo are going back as stupid as when they left. Prospero's theatrical magic has brought them together, has forced them to see themselves, but it has had no effect on some characters (unless the staging of the end of the play conveys in non-verbal ways that the two noble would-be killers are as contrite as Alonso appears to be). If we see the irony here as present but not totally corrosive, then by bringing us such a reconciliation, theatre (Prospero's experiment in the play and The Tempest itself) can help to maintain our best hopes for a meaningful life, faith that in time we will work things out, that, in spite of evil, the end of our story will manifest a pattern of moral significance. Locked into the contingencies of history in our political and business lives, where competition and deceitful self-interest hold sway, we may easily lose this faith. The theatre is, in a sense, a place which can restore us. But that restoration is provisional and fragile, more of a hope than a robust certainty. That's why in acknowledging the most famous single line quotation from the play, one needs also to examines the four words which immediately follow: Miranda, overwhelmed with the wonder and delight of seeing so many finely dressed civilized Europeans cries out, "O brave new world/ That has such people in't!" to which the more sober minded and mature Prospero comments only, "'Tis new to thee." Those four words of Prospero are wonderfully pregnant. In them he acknowledges his earned awareness into the nature of human beings, into the complexity of human life, which does not always (or usually) answer to Miranda's joyous affirmation. But he is not about to deliver Miranda another sermon, for he knows that the sense of joyful and optimistic wonder which she, as a young woman, is carrying back to Italy is the world's best hope. It may be, as he well knows, naive, for Miranda has, as yet, no sense of the evils that lurk back in the political world of the city. She sees only the attractive exterior of her human surroundings with no sense yet of the potential deceptions within. But she is as well equipped as he can make her, and it is not up to him to sour her youthful enthusiasm with a more complex and less affirming mature reflection. That is something she will have to discover in her turn. One might argue that if Prospero's experiment is designed to make everyone better, then it's a failure in large part. And it may be, as I mentioned above, that Prospero recognizes that fact. It is not unusual to stage this play in such a way that the conventional comic structure of the ending is seriously undercut by the sense of sadness in Prospero, who is returning to Milan to die. I'm not pressing this interpretation. All I want to call attention to at this point is that the ending of this play may not be the unalloyed triumph of the comic spirit that we are tempted to see there. Prospero's sober awareness of what the silence of Sebastian and Antonio means qualifies our sense of joy by indicating that the eternal problem of human evil has not been solved or dismissed. One major interpretative decision any director of the play has to make concerns this ending. Just how evident and serious should those ironies be: non-existent, a light shadow under the communal joy, or a heavy reminder of what is in store back in Italy? The strength of this sobering irony at the end will determine the particular tone which governs the return. In some productions, the irony is hardly noticeable and the celebration is thus dominant. In others, the irony is sufficiently strong to introduce an ominous note into the whole proceedings, even to the point of suggesting that Prospero's experiment has, in a sense, failed. Yes, Miranda and Ferdinand will be happily married, but the political world they are returning to (where Prospero will soon die) is unchanged and will remain much the same.
Even Miranda, Prospero’s daughter, speaks in a way that categorizes Caliban as an uneducated and uncivilized savage. “I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour […] When thou didst not, savage, know thine own meaning […]” (1.2.356-359) Miranda doesn’t stop there; she continues labeling Caliban, “But thy vile race, though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures could not abide to be with; therefore wast though deservedly confined into this rock […]” (1.2.361-364). Exactly this kind of discourse turns Caliban into a subject. If Caliban had not been alone on the island, then Prospero and Miranda would have categorized a whole group of human beings rather than just one.
Caliban’s childness is displayed when he rejects Prospero’s castigation, saying that he objects to being subjugated when he was once "mine own king." In yet another instance of Caliban acting childish, he is outraged that Prospero is punishing him when he has, from his point of view, done no wrong. Also like a child, the idea of being his own ruler dominates his thoughts. This is reinforced by his immediate course of action...
Prospero’s words could be viewed simply as a confirmation of Miranda’s lack of knowledge, an expression of concern in regards to the noblemen or a hopeful wish for his daughter’s future. No matter the interpretation, it is proven to be more complex than just a sharp remark.
In Act I of the play, Prospero finally tells Miranda the woeful story of how she and he arrived on the island. From the beginning, Prospero plays his subjects and his sympathetic audience as pawns in his game of manipulation. He explains that twelve years ago he was the Duke of Milan, but being enthralled with his studies, he left most of the governmental responsibilities to his brother Antonio. Antonio, hungry to be "Absolute Milan" himself (1:2, p.6), proceeded to betray him with the help of King Alonso of Naples. When Miranda asks why they were not killed, Prospero sighs, "Dear, they durst not,/ so dear the love my people bore me" (1:2, p.7). From the beginning, Prospero portrays himself as a distinguished scholar and beloved leader unjustly victimized by his power-hungry brother. Who would suspect such a humble man of being psychologically manipulative? Prospero succeeds in deceiving many with this credible guise.
Prospero, as I see it, doesn't start the play fully realizing all this. He launches his experiment from a mixture of motives, perhaps not entirely sure what he going to do (after all, one gets the sense that there's a good deal of improvising going on). But he learns in the play to avoid the twin dangers to his experiment, the two main threats to the value of his theatrical magic.
When Caliban is first introduced in the play it is as an animal, a lazy beast that tried to rape Prospero’s daughter, Miranda. Prospero wastes no time referring to him as, “Thou poisonous slave, got by the de...
The majority of the first part of Little Women deals with the "deals with the autobiographical component", of Alcott’s life that is inserted into Little Women (MacDonald 10). Alcott and Jo are comparable in numerous ways. Both of the young women wanted "to do something splendid", before they were forgotten or too aged (Alcott 144). They relied on the support of their families and the lessons they had learned as young girls to benefit them as they rose to the top of the authorial society. Both women did not tend to care about the restrictions set before them and set a pathway for younger generations of women to come. The second part of the novel highlights the similarities between the authorial portions of the women’s lives. Jo goes "to New York", to accomplish her writing goals, while Alcott writes in Concord,Massachusetts, the city that Little Women occurred in (Alcott 323). Louisa 's and Jo 's similar climb upward to success showed how the women of the 19th century were "adjusting to changing times", and slowly breaking the molds of their traditional past (May 4). In writing her novel Little Women, Alcott tends to use "many of the incidents”, which “were taken from her own experiences", and impose them into the plot line (MacDonald 10). Alcott was an abolitionist and a feminist, which she imposes as characteristics onto Jo March and somewhat onto Mrs.March. Her writing also allows the three sisters to be compelled by their family to experience their lives to the fullest, much similar to how Alcott’s family did to Louisa. The three sisters had a very meaningful relationship with each other, much like Alcott had with her three
Removal from a position of power can leave an individual desperate for normality that was once held, causing one’s capacity for discovery to become hindered. Prospero tells of his usurpation of dukedom to Miranda, weaving the story as to paint him as the victim in an attempt to elicit a response of sympathy from Miranda. This was Prospero’s manipulative response in attempts to regain control over an unplanned situation. The duologue between Miranda and Prospero introduces the obsession of Prospero’s past influence over people and the strong need to regain it. This duologue presents a flashback of Prospero about an event that happened 12 years earlier. Afterwards, he forcibly takes control of Miranda by telling her that she is ‘inclined to sleep’ and that ‘thou canst not choose’. This illustrates Prospero’s
To be able to answer this question we must first understand why Prospero can be seen as good or evil. It is fair to say that Prospero is a main protagonist to the plot of Shakespeare’s Tempest. It is due to Prospero's role as a key figure in the play that has put him under so much scrutiny. Many different Shakespearean critics have their own view of Prospero and those that read or see the play also have their own opinion of the way in which Prospero may be seen.
The play opens with a fearful tempest threatening to destroy the king's ship and all of its passengers. This situation along with the terrified emotions of the characters appears to the reader to be very real. However, in the second scene, the reader meets Prospero and his daughter Miranda. Through their conversation we learn of Prospero's magical powers, his brother's unjust claim as the Duke of Milan, and the exile of the two to this mysterious island. Next unveiled is Prospero's plot of revenge to regain his rightful title, the first step being to shipwreck the royal party on his island with the creation of the magical tempest. The reality of the situation is that there never was any danger from the storm at all.
In addition to hypocritically acting like the brother he condemns, Prospero assumes the role of a colonizer on the island. Fearful that he might lose power again, Prospero relies on force and debt to solidify his control. Caliban had already been on the island when Prospero strolled on with his daughter, Miranda, and immediately claimed the land as his own. Caliban even told Prospero, “The island’s mine by Sycorax my mother / Which thou tak’st from me” (1.2.332-3). Evidently, Caliban feels that Prospero forcefully took the island. Caliban further claims, “When thou cam’st first / Thou strok’st me and made much of me” and adds that now “you sty me / In this hard rock” (1.2.333-4, 342-3). Prospero at first treats Caliban with respect and then, after gaining his trust, treats Caliban inferiorly. In The Tempest, Shakespeare, by highlighting Prospero’s deceptiveness, reveals colonization to be a malicious act of aggression rather than a generous act of establishing order beyond one’s
In the play The Tempest by William Shakespeare, power is the ability to have authority over someone based on social status. However, as evident in the play, the drive for power can lead to betrayal. Characters constantly involved in the power struggle, and some are driven to want more power. The conceptuality of power is also the reason for the play’s interesting plot. Characters like Prospero and Caliban are As the plot is introduced, Prospero, the former Duke of Milan, tells the infuriating event of Antonio usurping him. He recalls his memories to Miranda, his daughter, as he tells her, “To have no screen between this part he played/ And him he played it for, he needs will be/ Absolute Milan. Me (poor man) my library/…He thinks me now incapable” (I.ii.107-111). Prospero, the once powerful, almighty duke who had the authority and rule over his people is overthrown by his own
Caliban is evil is the fact that he tried to rape Miranda, Prospero’s daughter as states by Barbara Fuchs in her article Conquering Islands: Contextualizing the Tempest where it says, “Caliban’s attack on Prospero’s daughter once more genders the colonizing impulses” (61). This suggests rape and it is not inhuman and it shows that Miranda is not the first woman who this has happen to. It not right, it’s evil. Caliban’s character in this book is horrible in the things that he does, he starting off has an evil monster that was born from an evil parents and he goes around causing trouble wherever he goes. As a servant, he does evil deed and by himself he is evil.
Prospero is protective of those who are close to him especially Miranda. Throughout The Tempest Prospero slowly makes sure Ferdinands and Mirandas love wont faid quickly. Prospero even called Ferdinand a traitor just to make Miranda seem harder to get. This way the couple wouldn't become a lost cause. When Prospero says "They are both in either's powers. But this swift business I must uneasy make lest too light winning make the prize light" (726) he is revealing his true plan to Ariel that he wants to make Miranda harder to get. This is because Prospero feels their love will be stronger if it is harder to obtain. Prospero is also protective when he says "the strongest oaths are straw to th' fire I' th' blood"(764) this was said to Ferdinand after Prospero makes him promise not to have sex with Miranda before they are married. He is stunned to see that after his promise Ferdinand is playing around with Miranda.
Although we hear the story of Prospero's eviction from Milan from him, the manner in which he tells his history inspires distrust -- Prospero is pompous, self-pitying and apparently unforgiving. The nature of Prospero's rule as revealed by Act I is not pleasant. When duke of Milan, he trusted his brother Antonio too much, and consequently nearly lost his life, as well as his dukedom. On the island, he befriended Caliban, brought him into his house and treated him as a member of the family -- and repeated the pattern of trust, which was again betrayed, when Caliban attempted to rape Miranda. Although Prospero learns from this second betrayal, he goes to the other extreme. Prospero's apparently tyrannical stance is revealed in his exile and verbal abuse of Caliban, as well as his tirade and threat to imprison Ariel again "till / Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters".