(36) The Tempest

The Tempest is a pretty darn good play, but you probably knew that already. It begins with a really cool shipwreck and then moves on to a vengeful, all-powerful wizard and his sweet, innocent daughter. Next comes all sorts of magic and mayhem, followed by…you guessed it, a wedding, right at the end (well, really an engagement, not an actual wedding, but close enough). There are some great characters throughout this one (Prospero, Miranda, Ariel, and Caliban, for starters) and it just generally moves along about as well as anything I have yet read. The final epilogue, spoken by Prospero, is one of my favorites in any of the plays, reminding me of Puck’s excellent final soliloquy in Midsummer. Just some really great lines there.

Speaking of epilogues, there’s something interesting going on with this one. Legend has it that The Tempest was the last play Shakespeare wrote, suggesting that this epilogue is thus his final words, his farewell to the theater, his retirement and swansong. In it, “Prosperospeare” asks to be released from the stage by the audience, through their applause, so that he can move on (“But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands”). It certainly seems like something someone who is retiring would say (side note: some productions go so far as to have these lines spoken not by Prospero but rather by an actor dressed as Shakespeare, coming out as a surprise, to fully drive home the Prospero-as-Shakespeare point).

So, is this a retirement speech to us from old Bill, a tearful sendoff to his admiring friends? Seems like it, right? Not so fast. To assume that Shakespeare threw down his pen at this moment and marched off into some sort of literary sunset is just way too overly dramatic for me. In fact, many believe he still wrote (co-wrote actually, as a contributor) a number of additional plays after The Tempest. This idea then, this final parting, seems to be complete fallacy (but fun fallacy). This is a clear case of us reading between the lines, of us hearing what we want to hear, of us making what we want out of his words, which we are free to do of course, because it’s all ours, not his, really, which is (if I have learned anything) exactly what the world of Shakespeare is all about.

So, speaking of endings, only two more plays to go and then finis (or exeunt) for me and this blog/project. The end (beginning?) is near.