Why should you read Shakespeare's "The Tempest"? - Iseult Gillespie

Claps of thunder and flashes of lightning
illuminate a swelling sea,

as a ship buckles beneath the waves.
This is no ordinary storm,

but a violent and vengeful tempest,
and it sets the stage for Shakespeare’s

most enigmatic play.
As the skies clear, we are invited into a

world that seems far removed from our own
but is rife with familiar concerns

about freedom, power, and control.
The Tempest is set on a desert island,

exposed to the elements and ruled with
magic and might by Prospero,

the exiled Duke of Milan.
Betrayed by his brother Antonio,

Prospero has been marooned on the island
for twelve years with his daughter Miranda

and his beloved books.
In this time he’s learned the magic of the

island and uses it to
harness its elementary spirits.

He also rules over the island’s
only earthly inhabitant,

the dejected and demonized Caliban.
But after years of plotting revenge,

Prospero’s foe is finally in sight.
With the help of the fluttering sprite Ariel,

the magician destroys his brother’s ship
and washes its sailors ashore.

Prospero’s plotting even extends to his
daughter’s love life, whom he plans to

fall for the stranded prince Ferdinand.
And as Prospero and Ariel

close in on Antonio,
Caliban joins forces with some

drunken sailors,
who hatch a comic plot to take the island.

The play strips society down
to its basest desires,

with each faction in hot pursuit of power
be it over the land, other people,

or their own destiny.
But Shakespeare knows that power is

always a moving target; and as he reveals
these characters’ dark histories,

we begin to wonder if this
vicious cycle will ever end.

Although Prospero was wronged by Antonio,
he has long inflicted his own

abuses on the island,
hoarding its magical properties

and natural re-sources for himself.
This takeover is especially

resented by Caliban.
The son of Sycorax, a witch who previously

ruled the island, he initially
helped the exiles find their footing.

But he’s since become their slave,
and rants with furious regret:

“And then I loved thee,/And showed thee
all the qualities o’ th’ isle/The fresh springs,

brine pits, barren place and
fertile./ Cursed be I that did so!”

With his thunderous language
and seething anger,

Caliban constantly reminds
Prospero of what came before:

this island’s mine by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me.

Yet Sycorax also abused the island,
and imprisoned Ariel until Prospero

released him.
Now Ariel spends the play hoping to repay

his debt and earn his freedom,
while Caliban is enslaved indefinitely

or at least as long
as Prospero is in charge.

For these reasons and many more,
The Tempest has often been read as

an exploration of colonialism,
and the moral dilemmas that come

with en-counters of “brave new world(s)."
Questions of agency and justice

hang over the play:
is Caliban the rightful master of the land?

Will Ariel flutter free?
And is Prospero the mighty overseer

or is there some deeper magic at work,
beyond any one character's grasp?

Throughout the play,
Ariel constantly reminds Prospero

of the freedom he is owed.
But the question lingers of whether

the invader will be able
to relinquish his grip.

The question of ending one’s reign is
particularly potent given that The Tempest

is believed to be Shakespeare’s final play.
In many ways Prospero’s actions echo that

of the great entertainer him-self,
who hatched elaborate plots,

maneuvered those around him,
and cast a spell over characters

and audience alike.
But by the end of his grand performance

of power and control,
Prospero’s final lines see him humbled

by his audience - and the power
that they hold over his creations.

With the help of your good hands./
Gentle breath of yours my sails/

Must fill or else my project fails,/
Which was to please.

This evokes Shakespeare’s own role
as the great entertainer

who surrenders himself,
ultimately, to our applause.