Open Writing

In Shakespeare's magical play "The Tempest", Prospero and his young daughter Miranda have been banished to a remote island in the Mediterranean. It was his own fault. Instead of attending to the affairs of government, he preferred to dabble in magic. A duke is not supposed to do that sort of thing.

In modern slang, we might call him a control freak. He loves his daughter but keeps her in the dark as far as his occult practices are concerned. When he wants to summon his supernatural helper, Ariel, he puts Miranda into a deep sleep — he controls what she can and cannot witness.

Ariel himself is controlled. Prospero had released him from dreadful bondage inflicted by the witch Sycorax, who previously lived on the island. He did this on condition that Ariel became his servant, always following his commands. Ariel yearns for release.

Prospero's other servant, Caliban, the monstrous son of Sycorax, is under total control. He was initially grateful for the education Prospero gave him, including how to speak and understand language, but his resentment is now seething.

When his old enemies are shipwrecked, Prospero uses Ariel and other sprites to control that situation, too. It is only by his manipulation that they find their separate ways to the island and gradually come together. The mariners, meanwhile, remain locked within their ship, sound asleep.

A good deal of reconciliation has to take place. Among the unexpected but now controlled visitors is Prospero's own brother, Antonio, who had been instrumental in usurping Prospero as Duke of Milan. He is accompanied by Alonso, King of Naples, who had been Antonio's ally. Alonso is also the father of Ferdinand, with whom Prospero's daughter falls in love.

With them is Gonzalo, an optimist and conciliator whose view of an ideal society is in direct contrast to the way Prospero has managed affairs on the island:

... no kind of traffic [trade]
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And use of service [servants], none; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation: all men idle, all;
And women too, but innocent and pure;
No sovereignty...
All things common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison [harvest], all abundance,
To feed my innocent people...
I would with such perfection, sir,
To excel the golden age. (2,1,144 ff)

Gonzalo dreams of a society in which "letters" (academic pursuits and learning) and riches would be as unknown as poverty and servitude, and in which neither commercial transactions nor legal proceedings would be unnecessary. Nevertheless, he voices his dream on the basis that he himself would be king of this ideal place, in a return to the imaginary golden age which people believed once existed in human society.

As the story draws to its close, Prospero releases Arial, letting him return to his invisible world, the golden age he has been yearning for. Although Alonso dissents, his brother Prospero is accepted by the others as the reinstated Duke of Milan. This is not exactly an ideal status, or the signal for a golden age, but it does release Prospero from the control of the island which he had attempted to control. His daughter Miranda is about to embark on her own golden age, in her marriage to Ferdinand, the son of his erstwhile rival and enemy.

Everyone departs from the island, but Caliban is left by himself. He gains his freedom, certainly, but we might be forgiven for asking if freedom can be enjoyed alone. He will have neither Prospero's domination nor Gonzalo's imagined egalitarian society. He is not at liberty to choose between autocracy and democracy. Is it possible that he is the real victim in this story?

© Copyright Brian Barratt 2009