Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Series Editors:
Andrew Hiscock
University of Wales, Bangor, UK and Lisa Hopkins,
Sheffield Hallam University, UK
www.bloomsbury.com
Alden T. Vaughan and Virginia Mason Vaughan have asserted their rights
under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as
Author of this work.
Introduction Alden T. Vaughan 1
1 The Critical Backstory: ‘What’s Past is
Prologue’ Virginia Mason Vaughan 13
2 A Theatre of Attraction: Colonialism,
Gender, and The Tempest’s Performance
History Eckart Voigts 39
3 Recent Perspectives on The Tempest
Brinda Charry 61
4 New Directions: Sources and Creativity in The
Tempest Andrew Gurr 93
5 New Directions: Commedia dell’Arte, The
Tempest, and Transnational Criticism
Helen M. Whall 115
6 New Directions: ‘He needs will be Absolute
Milan’: The Political Thought of The Tempest
Jeffrey A. Rufo 137
Notes 229
Select Bibliography 265
Index 271
19 bce: With Virgil’s death, the text of The Aeneid assumes its
lasting form; many subsequent editions appear in Latin and
other languages, including English in the 1550s. The Aeneid
is a clear source for parts of The Tempest’s plot and for many
allusions.
1623: The Tempest appears as the first play in the First Folio
edition of Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, &
Tragedies. Published according to the True Originall Copies.
Alden T. Vaughan
his temper and the malignity of his purposes; but let any other
being entertain the same thoughts and he will find them easily
issue in the same expressions’.15
Prospero as Shakespeare
To many critics in the eighteenth century and beyond, while
Caliban remained the most puzzling character in the play,
Prospero held special interest because of the perceived identi-
fication between his character and the dramatist who created
him. Gildon suggested this connection in 1710 when he
cited what has become an oft-quoted passage from the play
– ‘Our revels now are ended’ – to illustrate Shakespeare’s
poetic genius: ‘His Reflections and Moralizing on the frail
and transitory State of nature is wonderfully fine’.16 Who
does ‘His’ refer to, Shakespeare or Prospero? Many readers
assumed it was Shakespeare.
Over time, The Tempest came to be understood as
Shakespeare’s autobiographical reflection on his art. That
equation soon became a truism, especially when applied to
the ‘cloud-capped towers’ monologue. Thomas Campbell’s
Dramatic Works of Shakespeare summed it up: ‘Here
Shakespeare himself is Prospero, or rather the superior
genius who commands both Prospero and Ariel’.17 The
connection between Prospero and Shakespeare became
literally engraved in stone with the installation of Peter
Scheemaker’s sculpture in ‘Poets’ Corner’ of Westminster
Abbey in 1741, where a thoughtful Shakespeare leans on a
pile of books; a scroll beneath the books was initially left
blank, but later the Dean of Westminster Abbey had the
following words engraved:
that the play of The Tempest, was never, at any former period,
brought forward, with more advantage, than when it was last
performed upon the boards of Covent Garden Theatre. […]
[L]et not our theatres, in future, be polluted, by those scenes,
that lately disgraced them’.25
In his published lecture, MacDonnell bemoans the ignorance
of Shakespeare’s age, particularly its now-outdated belief in
magic and the supernatural. But even though Prospero is a
magician, ‘in the possession of a mind, enriched by wisdom
and great learning, he is enabled to accomplish those virtuous
ends, which his exalted and generous views so nobly contem-
plated’. That he ‘disdains to seek revenge for the injuries
he had suffered’ demonstrates his ‘great magnanimity of
mind’. Miranda, too, is exemplary; Shakespeare has drawn
her character with ‘all those qualities, mingled with sweet
affection, which give to her sex, that benign and potent
influence, of subduing and controlling the heart of man,
amidst the ruder feelings of his character’.26 Such banalities
were characteristic of the nineteenth century’s impressionistic
criticism, but MacDonnell’s discussion of Caliban – inspired
by the actor George Bennett’s performance in the Macready
production – breaks new ground. To be sure, Caliban is a
savage, ‘yet maintaining in his mind, a strong resistance to that
tyranny, which held him in the thraldom of slavery[,] Caliban
creates our pity, more than our detestation’. MacDonnell
finds excuses for Caliban’s behaviour: rude as he is, ‘with
feelings of strong aversion to slavery’, it is ‘with the view of
destroying the bondage under which he labours, that urges
him […] to form the plot against the life of Prospero’. While
his assault on Miranda cannot be justified, it was partly
caused, argues MacDonnell, by Prospero’s imprudence in
placing the two together. Indeed, ‘the noble and generous
character of Prospero, therefore suffers, by this severe conduct
to Caliban’.27 No longer simply a savage brute, Caliban had
become a sympathetic character.
Poet Robert Browning was also intrigued by Caliban.
In 1859, the year Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species
Form
Ever since Dryden, commentary on The Tempest had observed
Shakespeare’s careful attention to the play’s structure, particu-
larly his observance of the unities of time, place and action.
As Prospero insists, the action takes four hours, at most. It
is circumscribed to one uncharted island, and even though
it consists of three plots, each culminating in a masque-like
spectacle – Prospero’s plan to regain his dukedom and marry
off his daughter; Antonio and Sebastian’s conspiracy to murder
Alonso; and Caliban, Trinculo and Stephano’s parodic plot to
murder Prospero – events stay under Prospero’s control and
are clearly related to each other. Critics were also content to
describe the play simply as a comedy, in keeping with the First
Folio’s tripartite structure of comedies, histories and tragedies,
in which The Tempest was first among the comedies. It took
until the late nineteenth century for scholars to sketch out a
chronology for the plays, identifying Cymbeline, The Winter’s
Tale and The Tempest as the last works Shakespeare wrote
without a collaborator.
Edward Dowden based his study of the development of
Shakespeare’s mind and art on this chronology and was the first
to note these plays’ common characteristics: each plot involves
the characters’ movement through wide expanses of time and
space (although that movement is narrated rather than acted
in The Tempest); the plots centre on a violent breach within a
royal family; and at the end the perpetrators are forgiven and
the family restored. In these three plays, Dowden opined that
‘while grievous errors of the heart are shown to us, and wrongs
Allegorical readings
Edward Dowden’s survey of Shakespeare’s plays as biographical
allegory remained influential well into the twentieth century,
especially in regard to The Tempest. Writing in 1932, John
Dover Wilson contended that a change came over Shakespeare
around 1609, resulting in a shift from tragedy to romance. He
relates the last plays to Shakespeare’s retirement, suggesting
that Prospero is an extension of Lear, a wronged old man, but
in The Tempest he has found his happiness and his Cordelia
in Miranda, much as Shakespeare may have found it in times
spent with daughter Judith in Stratford. At the same time
Prospero is the spirit of dramatic poetry itself, and Ariel
represents the poetic imagination. The Tempest as a whole,
Wilson posits, is profoundly religious, exuding ‘a Christ-like
spirit in its infinite tenderness, its all embracing sense of
pity, its conclusion of joyful atonement and forgiveness’.45
J. Middleton Murry continues this theme in a 1936 essay,
‘Shakespeare’s Dream’, claiming that The Tempest is the most
symbolic of Shakespeare’s plays. Prospero, he contends, ‘is to
some extent an imaginative paradigm of Shakespeare himself
in his function as poet’, and he embodies ‘Shakespeare’s self-
awareness at the conclusion of his poetic career’.46
Other commentators stretched their analysis of The Tempest
beyond biography to argue that the play conveys universal
metaphysical truths. Colin Still’s The Timeless Theme (1921)
makes the most extravagant claims. After comparing the play’s
plots and characters to ancient myths and archetypal themes,
he concludes that ‘The Tempest is an imaginative mystery
which is true to the spiritual experience of all mankind’,
Thematic readings
While Still, James and Cobb’s systematic readings probe the
heart of The Tempest’s mystery, other twentieth-century critics
were less ambitious and less inclined toward metaphysical
readings. They sought instead to identify the play’s major
themes, the animating ideas that unify the drama into an
organic whole. Like Cobb, some framed the entire play as an
alchemical experiment. Harry Levin argued that The Tempest
was Shakespeare’s response to Ben Jonson’s satire on confi-
dence men’s alchemical practices, The Alchemist, performed
by the King’s Company in 1610. Unlike Jonson’s swindling
Subtle, Shakespeare’s magician is legitimate in his aims and
demonstrates his moral purpose when he renounces his art.52
Frances A. Yates, a scholar who worked throughout her career
on early modern explorations of the occult, maintained that
Eckart Voigts
48
THE TEMPEST
Figure 2.1 Stefan Pucher’s Der Sturm at the Münchner Kammerspiele, 8 November 2007. Left to right:
Wolfgang Pregler (Ariel), Hildegard Schmahl (Prospero). Photograph: Arno Declair
02/05/2014 14:46
A Theatre of Attraction 49
Brinda Charry
that Gonzalo sent with Prospero into exile, which are often
evoked but never presented. She studies Renaissance books of
magic and argues that it is not possible to construct his magic
simply in terms of either ‘black’ or ‘white’ magic. She also
finds links to the English voyages to America in the similarities
between the language used in the ‘magical’ books to summon
spirits and the language of explorers of foreign lands.10
Postcolonial readings
Postcolonialism developed after the dissolution of Europe’s
colonial empires as a literary approach based on the premise
that every branch of knowledge and cultural production is
part and parcel of the European conquest and colonization
of much of the world. It has thus clearly been influenced
by Cultural Materialism’s insistence on literary texts as
participating in ideological systems. One cannot overlook the
‘worldiness’ of texts, as pioneer postcolonial critic Edward
Said wrote.11 Renaissance criticism has benefited from the
healthy marriage of New Historicism and postcolonialism,
and The Tempest is among the first of the plays that was
studied using this dual approach. Postcolonial critics argue
that Shakespeare’s work especially needs to be subject to
postcolonial study as, in the context of the British Empire, he
was the author most associated with English culture and his
work was actually used to establish colonial authority and
cultural superiority to colonized cultures. Early postcolonial
criticism focused on The Tempest’s American connection. As
discussed in the previous chapter, the American theme has
been persistent in the play’s criticism since the nineteenth
century. Critics have continued to ponder the connection.
Alden Vaughan’s essay ‘Trinculo’s Indians – American Natives
in Shakespeare’s England’, for example, offers instances of
Native Americans who were transported to Shakespeare’s
London, whether by force or voluntarily, in order to provide
over in his own image. He […] opens up new worlds for the
imagination’.16
The connection between writing and colonizing has been
taken up by other critics. Greenblatt’s ‘Learning to Curse –
Aspects of Linguistic Colonialism in the Sixteenth Century’
focuses on language in The Tempest to understand power
relations between the colonizer and the colonized. Language,
says Greenblatt, has been perceived as the perfect instrument
and partner of empire. He studies Spanish and English
documents on the New World and concludes that the settlers
had two attitudes toward native language: either the natives
had no language but, like Caliban, gabbled ‘like / A thing
most brutish’ (1.2.357–8), or there were no linguistic barriers
between conquerors and natives, and the natives were forced
to adopt the conquerors’ language. Both attitudes, writes
Greenblatt, reveal the conquerors’ inability to ‘sustain the
simultaneous perception of likeness and difference’. Prospero
refuses to recognize Caliban’s language as legitimate and hence
denies his humanity, but Prospero also feels the need to teach
Caliban his language and refashion him. It is this ‘startling
encounter between a lettered and unlettered culture’ that the
play illustrates in its conflict between the erudite magician and
the ‘barbarian’ who wishes to ‘Burn but his books’ (3.2.95).
Caliban might have lost his native language, but he has a
moment of victory when he learns how to curse, albeit in his
master’s language. Greenblatt’s landmark essay inaugurated a
number of postcolonial readings of The Tempest. ‘Learning
to Curse’ anticipates and refutes charges of ‘presentism’ (the
idea that present-day concerns – such as colonialism – are
being imposed on a Renaissance text) by insisting that the play
invites political readings and that these readings are historical
– they simply discover something that has been obscured or
ignored for years.17
Postcolonial readings also typically place Caliban at the
centre of the play; he has come to signify the colonized native,
the complex villain-victim, political rebel, poet and dreamer.
Paul Brown’s essay argues that the play is not just a reflection
Feminist readings
Although interest in Shakespeare’s female characters certainly
predates the twentieth century, criticism that adopts an
overtly feminist approach is relatively recent. A feminist
approach argues that misogyny is inherent in language and
that women have traditionally been marginalized in literature
both as authors and as characters. Jyotsna Singh comments
on how even radical postcolonial readings and rewritings of
the play which privilege Caliban often do so at the cost of
Miranda. These readings are ‘oddly oblivious to the disso-
nances between race and gender struggles’, and it seems that
the postcolonial subject can become free only through the
erasure of the woman’s identity and freedom.34 Singh combines
postcolonial and feminist approaches, drawing our attention
Psychoanalytic readings
Early in the play Prospero wants to tell his daughter the
story of her arrival at the island, and the play ends with him
promising to narrate the events of the past 12 years to the
court party. Narratives are the obvious link between psycho
analysis and literature. Psychoanalytic methods involve the
production and analysis of stories in the form of dreams, folk
tales, case histories and patient narratives. It is no surprise
then that critics who engage with psychoanalytic theory are
drawn to The Tempest. These readings testify to the play’s
ambivalences and complexity.
Stephen Orgel’s ‘Prospero’s Wife’ dismisses the idea of plays
as case histories of either the author or the audience but treats
them instead as ‘collaborative fantasies’.47 Given the absence
of women in the play, Prospero conceives himself as a mother
figure and so works through the trauma of having his younger
brother usurp the role of parent/authority figure. Orgel also
links family structures and sexual relations in the play to
the political structures of Jacobean England and doubts and
anxieties regarding both. This approach, combining Freudian
Intertextuality
Because the New Historicist method is based on the premise
that texts do not derive their meaning in singularity but in
their relationship to other texts, much of the criticism that
Coda
This critical survey is by no means exhaustive. Other
approaches have been applied to the play. Martin Orkin’s
work has prompted a new way of reading Shakespeare that
he describes as ‘local’, in which local knowledge and attitudes
that audiences and readers bring is privileged, rather than
the archival and historical knowledge that only critics in the
Western world still have access to. He points out that for a
South African readership, the island of the play would suggest
Robben Island, on which anti-apartheid activists were jailed,
Andrew Gurr
Contested influences
The issue of what might have been in Shakespeare’s mind
when he composed his text leaves many other issues open,
if only because so many of the likely influences have disap-
peared, let alone those where his access to a particular text is
questionable. In 1995 Arthur F. Kinney issued a challenge to
current critics who were seeking to establish the play’s possible
links with the major concerns of Shakespeare’s own time, such
as ‘absolutist rule, white magic, discovery of the New World,
colonialism, imperialism, racism’.14 In particular he chose to
focus on the two possible sources that describe the shipwreck
of the Sea Venture on the shore of Bermuda in 1609, written
in 1609–10 by Silvester Jourdain and William Strachey.15
Starting from Bullough’s and Muir’s divergent views on their
escape, and gave them the means to live and to escape from
their predicament. Hence was derived the conception of
Prospero as an all-wise controller of events, plaguing sinners
for their own good, and both testing and advising Ferdinand’.
Later he writes of Prospero as ‘always the Good Governor (a
sublimated Sir Thomas Gates)’.21
Bullough very sensibly concluded that ‘behind The
Tempest there was a large international body of folk-lore
and romantic tradition’.22 Having outlined all the more
obvious instances of such sources, he went on to consider
possible precedents for some of the names that turn up in the
play. These include a Prosper and Stephano in the original
version of Every Man in his Humour, in which Shakespeare
performed. Similar instances of earlier usage appeared in
surviving German and Italian texts. In 1920 H. D. Gray
argued that the idea of stealing the magician’s books must
have come from an Italian commedia dell’arte play, one
of Li Tre Satiri.23 The manuscript containing these plays,
however, is dated 1622, and shows no sign of priority over
The Tempest. It stands with other analogous stories such
as Die Schöne Sidea as one element out of the multitude
of folklore stories that Bullough registered as possible
background sources.24
What becomes most obvious and most challenging from
Bullough’s lengthy assemblage is that the play was self-
evidently Shakespeare’s own composition. His use of sources
was too diverse, and too exceptionally complex, to fit easily
into the concept of sources that led Bullough to compose his
great study. Against this, Donna B. Hamilton, writing about
the use of the two major classical poets in the design and
detailing of the play, disavowed the simpler forms of source-
hunting and argued for a complex process of ‘rhetorical
imitation’. She claimed that ‘imitatio is more descriptive of
Shakespeare’s craftsmanship than saying that the Aeneid is
his “source”, and it explains some of the various systems by
which the play imitates the Aeneid’.25 Those systems, roughly
outlined above, included similar use of Ovid and Montaigne,
but give little sense of what initiated the idea of the play in the
writer’s mind. For that, the best source probably is Strachey.
Edmond Malone at the very beginning of the nineteenth
century was the first to draw attention to Strachey’s account
of the shipwreck of Thomas Gates and his ship off Bermuda
in 1609. He did so in an essay seeking to place the plays in
their chronological order of composition. Published in 1808,
it was called An account of the incidents from which the title
and part of the story of Shakspeare’s ‘Tempest’ were derived
and its true date determined. Morton Luce, editing the first
Arden edition of 1901, was the most notable of the many
who confirmed this as the basis for the dating. He argued that
the wreck of the Sea Venture must have ‘suggested the leading
incidents of The Tempest’.26 Luce also developed the idea of
Shakespeare’s likely association with the Virginia Company,
one of whose directors was the Earl of Southampton, the
lord for whom Shakespeare wrote his first published poems.
This idea of the play’s chief origin continues to be debated,
although the main objectors to the Strachey letter as a
source are those who want to date the play much earlier in
Shakespeare’s writing career.
From Strachey’s account of the shipwreck, if Shakespeare
read it, he took only certain limited elements. What he
selected from Strachey’s lengthy non-fictional narrative about
the four-day hurricane the ship struggled through before it
could be beached on an island in the Bermudas is thoroughly
economical. Unlike the play’s version, in Strachey’s account
the crew and the passengers all together helped to bail out the
ship and to cast away the surplus baggage and other items that
weighed the ship down while she lay awash with her ‘mighty
leake’. By contrast, Shakespeare uses the Boatswain to keep
the crew from the passengers, though he had the courtiers
going below and coming up on deck again, as Admiral George
Somers did. Shakespeare’s account has the topmast brought
down, while Strachey says they tried to cut down the main
mast, and he makes everyone cry ‘all lost!’ and think the
ship was splitting. He has luggage thrown overboard, butts
The masque
Strachey is far from being the only contentious source for
the play. The abbreviated masque in Act 4 has generated the
most intense and sometimes the most aberrant theories. These
include everything from the absence of masques elsewhere in
Shakespeare to his assumed interchanges with Ben Jonson,
the dominant writer of masques in King James’s early years.
What dictated the precise shape of the play’s masque has been
less studied, though Jonson’s own distinctive innovation in the
forms of masque, the antimasque, has made scholars identify
a wide range of possible features in the nearby sections of
the play as versions of antimasque. Some critics find it in the
dance of the reapers and nymphs that Prospero brings to a
halt, others in Ariel’s appearance as the Harpy, and yet others
in the dogs that chase away the three comic conspirators after
the masque.
I think it safe to assume that Shakespeare knew several of
Jonson’s masques, probably at first hand if he served as one
Helen M. Whall
Thou my slave,
As thou report’st thyself, was then her servant,
And – for thou were a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorred commands,
Refusing her grand hests – she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine, within which rift
Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years […]
It was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine and let thee out. (1.2.270–93)
Jeffrey A. Rufo
If, for one whose policy is caution and patience, times and
affairs circle about in such a way that his policy is good, he
continues to succeed; if times and affairs change, he falls,
because he does not change his way of proceeding. […]
Yet if he could change his nature with times and affairs,
Fortune would not change. (1:91)
Scott Maisano
The Arden edition glosses ‘the great globe itself’ as ‘the world,
though probably with a simultaneous reference to the Globe
playhouse for which Shakespeare wrote plays after 1599’; the
editors then explain the phrase ‘all which it inherit’ as ‘all
people who will subsequently live on earth and, perhaps also,
all who will perform in or attend (and possibly own) the Globe
[theatre]’.16 While there is no quarrelling with the secondary or
autobiographical significance of ‘the great globe itself’ – that
is, the metatheatrical allusion to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre
– the editors, I suspect, have mistaken Prospero’s primary
referent. In the context of what Thomas Kuhn has described
as ‘the two-sphere universe’ – both Ptolemaic and Copernican
cosmologies represented the earth as a ‘tiny’ terrestrial sphere
around which rotated, or appeared to rotate, the ‘much larger’
celestial sphere of the fixed stars – Prospero’s ‘great globe’
does not refer to the ‘tiny’ earth but to the immense globe of
the heavens.17
As a self-proclaimed scholar of ‘the liberal arts’ – including
the quadrivial arts of geometry, astronomy, music and arith-
metic – Prospero, if he had not read Ptolemy or Copernicus
directly, could not have avoided studying Johannes de
Sacrobosco’s De Sphaera (c. 1230), the most widely used
textbook for astronomy courses at European universities for
more than 400 years, published in more than 200 editions
in the sixteenth century alone. Sacrobosco’s first chapter
only the smallest sphere but also the farthest from God; the
celestial sphere of fixed stars, by contrast, touches the primum
mobile at every point on its circumference.
Even astronomers who doubted the material reality of a
celestial sphere realized its necessity, as an imaginary geomet-
rical projection, for describing the position of visible planets
and stars in the night sky; in this capacity, the celestial sphere
as well as its materialization in the form of a celestial globe
proved essential for timekeeping as well as navigation at sea.
The most basic coordinate on an imaginary celestial sphere is
the ‘zenith’, the point in the sky directly above the head of an
earthbound observer. Prospero’s familiarity with the concept
of a celestial sphere, if not the construct of a celestial globe, is
evident from the moment he announces in the opening act: ‘by
my prescience / I find my zenith doth depend upon / A most
auspicious star’ (1.2.180–2).18 That ‘auspicious star’, I think,
is the planet (or wandering star) Jupiter, which moves through
the circuit of the zodiac and returns to its zenith over the
course of twelve years. Nandini Das, in notes to her edition of
Robert Greene’s 1585 astrological pamphlet Planetomachia,
explains how ‘In [early modern] astrology, Jupiter and the
Sun are frequently perceived as having similar effects and
signification […] Both celestial bodies are considered to be
temperately hot; however, Jupiter is considered the most
beneficial of the planets due to its moist nature, while the Sun
is hot and dry, therefore liable to have more negative effects’.
After keeping a close eye on the clockwork sky for 12 years,
Prospero informs Miranda: ‘the hour’s now come / The very
minute bids thee ope thine ear’ (1.2.36–7). An observational
astronomer like Prospero, who coordinates his political coup
with Jupiter’s orbital period, would not confuse or conflate the
tiny earth with the ‘great globe’ of heaven.
But interpreting Prospero’s ‘great globe itself’ as the earth
rather than the firmament is not exclusive to the Arden
edition – the Riverside, Norton, Signet Classic, Bedford/
St Martin’s, New Folger Library, and the New Cambridge
Shakespeare editions all concur with the Arden – nor is it a
subdivisible particles was not new in his own time, and was
indeed older than Aristotle’.28 According to Greenblatt:
Bit by bit and piece by piece, the newly dead composite being
returns to its atomic constituents and, from there, gradually
rejoins the visible world in the form of countless new beings.41
These infinitesimal bits and invisible pieces, or corpuscles,
are what is real and eternal – like Ariel. In ‘Ariel and all his
quality’, Prospero has harnessed the power of the atom. Ariel’s
artificial imitation of ‘Jove’s lightning, the precursors / O’th’
dreadful thunderclaps’ (1.2.201–2) drives the King and Prince
to prayers, with the latter exclaiming, ‘Hell is empty, / And
all the devils are here’ (1.2.214–5). But Prospero’s subsequent
explanation – it is his own godlike command of the elements,
not divine displeasure, which has caused the storm – enables
Miranda, as well as the audience offstage, to recognize the
error involved in attributing supernatural significance to
atmospheric outbreaks.
Ariel’s name is, as the Arden editors point out, strikingly
similar to Uriel, ‘the name of an angel in the Jewish cabala
[… and] John Dee’s spirit communicant during his ill-fated
experiments with magic’.42 But Dee’s ‘spirit communicant’,
Uriel, was an archangel, from whom Dee’s ‘scryers’ took
dictation and for whom the magus himself exhibited, in
Deborah Harkness’s words, a ‘complete willingness to perform
any task [Uriel] set before him’.43 Thus, the relationship
between Dee and Uriel, a divine messenger sent from God, is
a complete reversal of the relationship between Prospero and
Ariel. When spoken ‘Ariel’ sounds like ‘aerial’, a word which
means ‘Dwelling, flying, or moving in the air’ and ‘Consisting
or composed of air […] associated with or having the nature
of air’.44 At the outset of De Rerum Natura, Lucretius, antici-
pating his readers’ scepticism of the claim that all perceptible
change is actually the result of invisible matter, makes an
analogy to the nature of air: ‘the wild wind [though unseen]
[…] whips the waves of the sea, capsizes huge ships, and sends
the clouds scudding; sometimes it swoops and sweeps across
the plains in tearing tornado, strewing them with great trees,
and hammers the heights of mountains with forest-splitting
blasts’.45 Lucretius’s account of the wind calls to mind not
heart bleeds / To think o’ th’ teen that I have turned you to, /
Which is from my remembrance’ and ‘I not remembering how
I cried out then, / Will cry it over again’(1.2.63–5, 133–4).
Twice Shakespeare calls our attention to what appears to be
unaccounted-for time – first in the form of Miranda’s memory
lapse and then in Prospero’s declaration that he has raised the
dead – as if first posing the question at the start of the play and
supplying an answer at the end. Given the conditions under
which they travelled, on a rat-infested ‘rotten carcass of a butt’
(1.2.146), isn’t it just as likely that the infant Miranda died en
route to the island and that her bold ‘smile’ (1.2.153), which
Prospero says was ‘Infused with a fortitude from heaven’
(1.2.154), was merely the lifeless rictus of a chilly death at
sea? Perhaps the reason Prospero has ‘many times begun’ to
tell Miranda of her life – and just as many times broken off the
story – and the reason that Miranda recalls the part of her life
that she does – the part that Prospero has recounted frequently
over the course of 12 years, without ever heeding Miranda’s
wish, ‘Please you, farther’ (1.2.65) – is that his own daughter
is the creature he brought back from the grave. She is the first
‘Frankenstein monster’.
The ‘secret arts’ of raising the dead, which Shakespeare
shows as part of the mimetic stage action in Pericles, are
alluded to by Prospero as part of the diegetic story in The
Tempest.57 As the Arden editors explain, ‘The Tempest’s action
is elliptical, leaving readers and audiences to speculate about
events that happened before the play begins […] [and] attempt
to fill in the narrative gaps’.58 Supposing a prologue in which
Prospero, like Cerimon before him, reanimates a recently
deceased corpse arguably enhances Stephen Orgel’s psycho-
analytic claim that ‘Prospero, several times explicitly, presents
himself as incorporating [Miranda], acting as both father and
mother to [her], and in one extraordinary passage describes
the voyage to the island as a birth fantasy’; extends Ann
Thompson’s feminist observation that ‘apart from Miranda
herself, the only females in the First Folio’s list of “Names of
the Actors” are Iris, Ceres, Juno and the Nymphs, all of whom
N. Amos Rothschild
Essay collections
Bloom, Harold ed., Caliban (New York: Chelsea House, 1992).
Compiles essays and excerpts from critical works discussing
Caliban by authors ranging from Dryden to twentieth-century
scholars, including Frye, Kermode, Berger, Orgel, Greenblatt,
Skura, V. Vaughan and others. Bloom’s introduction critiques
narrowly focused postcolonial approaches to Tem.
eds Stephen Orgel and Sean Keilen (New York and London:
Garland, 1999), 29–43.
Uses Prospero’s epilogue to begin an account of the original
staging of Shakespeare’s plays.
Henderson, Diana E., ‘Shakespearean Comedy, Tempest-Toss’d:
Genre, Social Transformation, and Contemporary Performance’,
in Shakespeare and Genre: From Early Modern Inheritances to
Postmodern Legacies, ed. Anthony R. Guneratne (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 137–52.
Uses Julie Taymor’s film adaptation of The Tempest as a key
example of the ‘ways in which Shakespeare and genre can be, or
fail to be, mutually refreshing through performance’ (140).
Holland, Peter, ‘Modernizing Shakespeare: Nicholas Rowe and The
Tempest’, Shakespeare Quarterly 51 (2000), 24–32.
Examines the text of The Tempest from Nicholas Rowe’s 1709
edition of Shakespeare’s works to demonstrate that Rowe
‘established a practice of presentation and modernization of
Shakespeare’s text that continues to exert exceptional influence’ (24).
Hopkins, Lisa, Screen Adaptations: Shakespeare’s The Tempest, The
Relationship between Text and Film (London: Methuen Drama,
2008).
Analyses film adaptations of The Tempest, with special focus
on The Forbidden Planet, Derek Jarman’s The Tempest, and
Prospero’s Books.
Horowitz, Arthur, Prospero’s ‘True Preservers’: Peter Brook, Yukio
Ninagawa, and Giorgio Strehler – Twentieth-Century Directors
Approach Shakespeare’s The Tempest (Newark: University of
Delaware Press, 2004).
Analyses six post-WWII productions of The Tempest to
show how ‘the dynamics that go into directing a production
of The Tempest turn its director into Prospero’s surrogate’ (12).
Jefferson, Teddy, ‘Rorschach Tempest or The Tempest of William
S. Performed by Flies on the Erection of a Dreaming Hyena’,
Shakespeare Quarterly 61 (2010), 78–107.
Playwright and fiction writer Teddy Jefferson offers a dreamy
argument between a director and his researcher about how and
why The Tempest might be performed today.
Introduction
1 John Dryden and William Davenant, The Tempest, or, The
Enchanted Island (London: 1670), sig. A2v; Ben Jonson,
Works of Ben Jonson, ed. C. H. Herford and Percy and
Evelyn Simpson, 11 vols (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1925–52),
6:16.
2 Edmond Malone, An Account of the Incidents, from which
the Title and Part of the Story of Shakspeare’s Tempest Were
Derived; and Its True Date Ascertained (London: Printed by
C. & R. Baldwin, 1808–[1809]). Malone misreported the facts
about Indians taken to England between 1605 and 1614 but
correctly named the two who sailed on Sea Venture in 1609
(387–8).
3 Many passages hint obliquely at the island’s location, but
see especially 1.2.129–50, 171, 178–80, 230–35; 2.1.70–4;
5.1.153–62, 307–17 in The Tempest, 3rd Arden Series, eds
Virginia Mason Vaughan and Alden T. Vaughan (Walton-on-
Thames: Thomas Nelson, 1999; rev. edn, London: Bloomsbury,
2011).
4 Among the advocates of specific islands are George Chalmers,
A Supplemental Apology for the Believers in the Shakspeare-
papers (London: Printed for Thomas Egerton, 1799), 438–41;
Joseph Hunter, A Disquisition on the Scene, Origin, Date,
etc. etc. of Shakespeare’s Tempest (London: Printed by C.
Wittingham, 1839), 17–32; Edward Everett Hale, Prospero’s
Island (New York: Dramatic Museum of Columbia University,
1919), 33–41; Theodor Elze, ‘Die Insel der Sykorax’,
Shakespeare Jahrbuch 15 (1880), 251–3; and Richard Paul
Roe, The Shakespeare Guide to Italy: Retracing the Bard’s
Unknown Travels (New York: Harper, 2011), 265–95, which
Virgil xii, 87, 94–5, 96, 144, 159 Wilson, Daniel xvi, 24
Visconsi, Elliott 201 Wilson, John Dover 30
Wilson, Richard 76
Warburton, Willliam 17 Wilson-Okamura, David 87,
Warner, Marina 51, 58, 81 216
Warton, Joseph 17 Winson, Patricia 224
Welsh, James M. 227 Wolff, Max J. 131
Werstine, Paul 200 Wood, John 50
White, R. S. 210 Wood, Nigel 210–11
Whitted, Brent 200 Woodward, Hobson 216–17
Wikander, Matthew 15 Wright, Louis B. 123
Wiles, David 252n. 19, 20 Wylie, John 217
Williams, Raymond 62
Willis, Deborah 77, 216 Yachnin, Paul 200
Willoquet-Maricondi, Paula Yates, Frances A. 32–3
46–7
Wilson, Catherine 177, 179 Zabus, Chantal 227