This year, I am taking a class called, "DSO Learning Lab", in which I am in the process of doing an analysis on one of the pieces that the Dallas Symphony Orchestra will be performing this season. I chose to do this project on a piece by Richard Strauss called Death and Transfiguration.
When Strauss finished composing this piece, a good friend of his named John Ritter wrote a poem that was inspired by the piece, and is often read at the close of the song at concerts today. As a part of my analysis for the project, I talk about the meaning of the poem as it relates to the piece, so I thought it would be good for me to share what I have so far as a blog post.
In the following analysis, I state the name of the movement in the piece and then state the poem. Below that is the actual interpretation of the poem as it relates to each movement.
I. Largo. “In a small bare room, dimly lit by a candle stump, a sick man lies on his bed. Exhausted by a violent struggle with death, he lies asleep. In the stillness of the room, like a portent of impending
death, only the quiet ticking of a clock is heard. A melancholy smile
lights the invalid’s pale face: does he dream of golden childhood as he lingers on the border of life?”
The mood is quiet and there is a steady, yet syncopated, pattern played by the violins and violas. The woodwinds enter with whole notes, adding ominous, static energy. This is often thought to be the death motive, though it can also be associated with a ticking clock and a failing human heartbeat. Arching woodwind solos over horn and harp accompaniment signal a sad smile and thoughts of youth. The sighing motives that carry across all string sections suggests heavy exhaling and breathing. This section is centered around c minor in 4/4. The lyrical line that is passed between solo woodwinds and solo violin suggests the feeling of loneliness and nostalgia after this section reaches its main development and begins to recap. The ending of this section adds tension to what is about to come in the next movement.
II. Allegro molto agitato. “But death grants him little sleep or time for
dreams. He shakes his prey brutally to begin the battle afresh. The
drive to live, the might of death! What a terrifying contest! Neither
wins the victory and once more silence reigns.”
This is some-what considered the development variation. The tone center is undefined because of the excessive dominant and diminished chords. Harsh blows of the brasses and a faster tempo signify the struggle with death. The much faster sighing theme in the strings is understood to be a sharp gasp or cry, then suddenly the ominous theme comes back. Motives that describe this struggle, including the fast paced version of the death motive (triplet motive) from the opening, are battered about the orchestra throughout the movement. The projected emotion that seems to be introduced is of a dark undercurrent that is insidiously creeping up. The slower, lyrical passages suggest the diminishing hope of the inevitableness of death. As new themes and old themes are introduced and brought back, Strauss adds variations to original themes with different dynamics and textures; this allows him to maintain the idea of death but through different perspectives. Just as death is about to triumph we hear a glimpse of the transfiguration theme (more filled out triplet theme) presented in the harp, trombones, cellos, and violas, the ideal that can only be achieved after death. But death has not yet come. The music settles again as calm returns to the room.
III. Meno mosso, ma sempre alla breve. “Exhausted from the battle,
sleepless, as in a delirium, the sick man now sees his life pass before him, step by step, scene by scene. First the rosy dawn of childhood, radiant, innocent; then the boy’s aggressive games, testing, building his strength—and so maturing for the battles of manhood, to strive with burning passion for the highest goals of life: to transfigure all that seems to him most noble, giving it still more exalted form—this alone has been the high aim of his whole existence. Coldly, scornfully, the world set obstacle upon obstacle in his way. When he believed himself. near his goal, a thunderous voice cried: ‘Halt!’ But a voice within him still urged him on, crying: ‘Make each hindrance a new rung in your upward climb.’ Undaunted he followed the exalted quest. Still in his death agony he seeks the unreached goal of his ceaseless striving, seeks it, but alas, still in vain. Though it grows closer, clearer, grander, it never can be grasped entire or perfected in his soul. The final iron hammerblow of death rings out, breaks his earthy frame, and covers his eyes with eternal night.”
This section begins quietly with the triplet motive that outlines the key of G major, which is a completely new tonic and harmony, suggesting the idea of life instead of death. It almost serves as a passive resolution that isn’t completely resolved. Solos traded throughout the orchestra possibly suggest particular people or events that the dying man misses or will miss. While the movement is filled with both joyous and nostalgic remembrances of his past, Strauss also adds hints of the death theme throughout. (The orchestra swells, and at the high points of phrases we hear the trombones and timpani proclaim the death motive.) That being said, this movement of the piece goes through many different key centers, some major and some minor. In the midst of the chaos that forms the transfiguration motive is also heard, signaling that the end is near. Another outburst occurs, the final struggle with death, the storm and fury of the orchestra dying away chromatically to a strange resolution (fully diminished F# chord) and capped off with the sound of the gong, the death knell, announcing the soul’s departure.
IV. Moderato. “But from the endless realms of heavenly space a mighty resonance returns to him bearing what he longed for here below and sought in vain: redemption, transfiguration.”
Beginning quietly, the transfiguration theme is presented and is, itself, transformed. (The death theme (triplet motive) is no longer present.) The sound grows as instruments are added and the sound climbs higher and higher with arpeggios, with all of the symbolic imagery implied, to the uppermost reaches of the brass, woodwinds and strings. Gradually, tighter rhythms form and the texture begin to thicken as the tension and sense of longing builds to the complete resolution and coda of the piece which centers around C major (suggesting acceptance of death). The work ends peacefully and tranquilly in C major (the parallel major of C minor), with death having won the battle but with the soul’s deliverance and transformation surpassing all.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Four quadrants? Or just one?
From the activity we did today in class about the "killing lion", the "innocent lamb", the "lying serpent", and the "truthful angel", I was able to evaluate myself in a way that I had never previously pondered or thought. I had never asked myself, "In extreme (or not so extreme) circumstances, how likely or to what point would you decide to kill or not kill someone else?" or, "What situations would cause you to lie or not lie?" This process helped me place myself in one of the quadrants pretty easily based on my initial right-a-way answers.
I seemed to fit in the quadrant of innocent lamb/truthful angel based on my immediate answers to the questions and my overall personality; I am generally a very merciful, optimistic, sympathetic person who tends to want to be pretty easy-going. However, I found myself somewhat on the border of being close to the innocent lamb/serpent quadrant. As I began to question which quadrant I really belonged in, I started to see myself being able to fit in each quadrant, if put in very certain and particular "What if?" circumstances that entered my thoughts. I then began to think about everyone else besides just me. All of these people defined to a particular quadrant, it just didn't seem human. I mean, all of us have moments in which we would fall into each category, which leads me to believe that every one's placement on the graph is more or less a "default" or instant reflex response to a common situation.
And being that we are all human, we all sin and do wrong, meaning we could never be completely on the "truthful angel" side or the "innocent lamb" side.
This leads me to believe that truly, there is only one quadrant; lying serpent/killing lion, and that it all is just a matter of how close (or far) you are from the intersecting corner.
I see this process more as an indicator of how much we are willing to kill and lie than a measure of anything else. I think to myself as if it's asking, "How much are you willing to go from a state of being good/neutral to the point of lying or killing?"
I found this activity very interesting and eye-opening for not just analyzing myself, but also family/friends/acquaintances, historical figures, and current celebrities/cultural icons. I also found this a good exercise to get the whole class involved and thinking. It seemed to help get the point across to us each individually since we were able to apply ourselves directly to the situations.
This image represents a serpent/lion category charcter (the lion) against a much more angel/lamb character (the lamb).
I seemed to fit in the quadrant of innocent lamb/truthful angel based on my immediate answers to the questions and my overall personality; I am generally a very merciful, optimistic, sympathetic person who tends to want to be pretty easy-going. However, I found myself somewhat on the border of being close to the innocent lamb/serpent quadrant. As I began to question which quadrant I really belonged in, I started to see myself being able to fit in each quadrant, if put in very certain and particular "What if?" circumstances that entered my thoughts. I then began to think about everyone else besides just me. All of these people defined to a particular quadrant, it just didn't seem human. I mean, all of us have moments in which we would fall into each category, which leads me to believe that every one's placement on the graph is more or less a "default" or instant reflex response to a common situation.
And being that we are all human, we all sin and do wrong, meaning we could never be completely on the "truthful angel" side or the "innocent lamb" side.
This leads me to believe that truly, there is only one quadrant; lying serpent/killing lion, and that it all is just a matter of how close (or far) you are from the intersecting corner.
I see this process more as an indicator of how much we are willing to kill and lie than a measure of anything else. I think to myself as if it's asking, "How much are you willing to go from a state of being good/neutral to the point of lying or killing?"
I found this activity very interesting and eye-opening for not just analyzing myself, but also family/friends/acquaintances, historical figures, and current celebrities/cultural icons. I also found this a good exercise to get the whole class involved and thinking. It seemed to help get the point across to us each individually since we were able to apply ourselves directly to the situations.
Monday, January 7, 2013
THE TEMPEST WITH ALLIE: Two Major Themes
LOSS AND RESTORATION
Prospero’s attempt to recover his lost dukedom of Milan drives the plot of the Tempest. But Prospero isn’t the only character in the play to experience loss. Ariel lost his freedom to Sycorax and now serves Prospero. Caliban,
who considers himself the rightful ruler of the island, was overthrown
and enslaved by Prospero. By creating the tempest that shipwrecks Alonso and
his courtiers on the island, Prospero strips them of their position and
power, and also causes Alonso to believe that he has lost his son to
the sea.
Through their reactions to these losses, the
play’s characters reveal their true natures. Reduced to desperation and
despair, Alonso recognizes his error in helping to overthrow Prospero
and gives up his claim to Milan, returning Prospero to power and
restoring order between Milan and Naples. Though he desperately wants to
be free, Ariel loyally serves his master Prospero. Prospero, meanwhile,
gives up his magic rather than seeking revenge and frees Ariel before
returning to Milan. In contrast to Alonso, Antonio and Sebastian never show remorse for overthrowing Prospero and prove to be ambitious killers in their plot to murder and overthrow Alonso. Stephano and Trinculo,
in their buffoonish way, likewise seek power through violence. And
Caliban, as opposed to Ariel, hates Prospero, and gives himself as a
slave to Stephano in an effort to betray and kill Prospero. As Gonzalo observes in the last scene of the play, the characters “found ... ourselves, when no man was his own”.
POWER
From the opening scene of The Tempest during the storm, when the ruling courtiers on the ship must take orders from their subjects, the sailors and the boatswain, The Tempest
examines a variety of questions about power: Who has it and when? Who’s
entitled to it? What does the responsible exercise of power look like?
How should power be transferred? The play is full of examples of power
taken by force, and in each case these actions lead to political
instability and further attempts to gain power through violence. Antonio and Alonso’s overthrow of Prospero leads to Antonio and Sebastian’s plot to overthrow Alonso, just as Prospero’s overthrow and enslavement of Caliban leads Caliban to seek revenge.
Ultimately, it is only when Prospero breaks
the cycle of violence by refusing to take revenge on Alonso, Antonio,
Sebastian, or Caliban that the political tensions in the play are calmed
and reconciled. After Prospero’s merciful refusal to seek revenge,
Alonso and Prospero quickly come to an understanding and unite their
once warring cities through the marriage of their children. The Tempest suggests that compromise and compassion are more effective political tools than violence, imprisonment, or even magic.
THE TEMPEST WITH ALLIE: Act 5, Scene 1 Summary/Analysis
Prospero asks Ariel how Alonso
and his men are doing. Ariel reports that he has confined them,
spellbound, in a grove of trees. He describes how sorrowful and
frightened they are, and adds that the man Prospero calls “the good old
lord, Gonzalo,” has tears
streaming down his face. Ariel says that if Prospero “beheld them, your
affections / Would become tender”. Prospero, moved by the
human-like compassion of the spirit, pledges to release his hold over
them, saying, “The rarer action is in virtue, than in vengeance”. He sends Ariel to bring the men to appear before him. In this dialogue with Ariel, Prospero for
the first time seems to care what someone else thinks. Ariel’s
compassion for the suitors seems to restore Prospero’s humanity. One can
now look back and speculate as to whether his plan was to reconcile
with his enemies all along, or whether he had planned on revenge until
this conversation with Ariel changed his mind.
Alone on stage, Prospero
invokes the various spirits who have aided him, describing the many
incredible feats he has accomplished with his magic—“graves at my
command have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ‘em forth” and says that after performing this last act he will give up
his powers, breaking his staff and drowning his book of magic.
Here Prospero catalogs his feats of magic,
in the same way that you might imagine Shakespeare, at the end of his
career, would look back on his long career as a playwright and list his
triumphs in the theater.
Ariel leads the courtiers onto the stage, still spellbound by Prospero’s charm. Prospero addresses them - praising Gonzalo for his goodness and loyalty and scolding Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio for their cruelty, treachery, and greed - and then forgives them. Noting that the spell is lifting, Prospero has Ariel
bring him his old clothing so that the courtiers will see him as the
Duke of Milan when they come out of their spell. Then, he orders Ariel
to go fetch the Boatswain and mariners.
By changing into the clothes he wore as
duke, Prospero is not using magic but is still using illusions by
carefully crafting his image. He shows that although he lost power, he
is still the real Duke of Milan. The change of clothes also indicates
that Prospero plans to assert political rather than magical power from
now on.
Prospero releases Alonso and his men from the spell. Alonso,
shocked and confused at seeing Prospero, immediately begs Prospero’s
pardon and relinquishes his claim to Milan. Prospero then embraces Gonzalo, whom he calls “noble friend…whose honor cannot be measured or confined”. The restoration of order, which was upset
when Prospero was overthrown, begins when Alonso apologizes and returns
Milan to Prospero. Gonzalo is finally treated with the respect he
deserves.
Prospero next addresses Antonio and Sebastian, condemning them for overthrowing and exiling him and for plotting against Alonso.
He goes on, however, to forgive them. Antonio and Sebastian do not
respond, and are virtually silent for the rest of the play.
The silence of Antonio and Sebastian is telling. Like Caliban, they are sullen and angry in their powerlessness.
Alonso laments the death of Ferdinand. Prospero responds that he, too, has “lost” a child. Alonso assumes that Miranda has also died. Prospero invites Alonso to look into his cell, however, and reveals Ferdinand and Miranda sitting at a table playing chess. Ferdinand and Alonso rejoice to find each other alive. The word “lost” (and variations of it) is
used numerous times in the Alonso and Prospero’s dialogue.
Miranda
marvels at the handsome men arrayed before her, saying, “How beauteous
mankind is! O brave new world that has such people in’t!”.
Prospero replies, “Tis new to thee”. Ferdinand tells his
father of his recent marriage to Miranda, and Alonso gives his blessing.
Miranda’s words reflect her naiveté—some of
the men she admires are morally corrupt. Prospero’s comment “Tis new to
thee,” implies that Miranda will learn that people aren’t really so
“beauteous” at all.
Gonzalo
observes that this voyage has served to unite people with each other
and with their true selves. He says, “O rejoice beyond a common joy…in
one voyage…Ferdinand…found a wife where he himself was lost; Prospero,
his dukedom, in a poor isle, and all of us ourselves, when no man was
his own”. Gonzalo’s speech focuses again on the
Christian idea that loss leads to redemption. This might explain why the
characters who accepted loss cheerfully or repentantly were
rewarded—the loss was a spiritual test that they passed.
Ariel enters with the mariners. The Boatswain reports that the sailors awakened to find the ship miraculously restored to perfect condition. Next, Prospero asks Ariel to release Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo
from their spell and bring them forward in their stolen absurd clothes.
Prospero relates how the threesome has plotted against him, and he asks
the courtiers if they recognize Stephano and Trinculo. Of Caliban, he
says, “This thing of darkness, I acknowledge mine”. The aspirations of the three conspirators
seem ridiculous as they stand in front of the true king and duke, yet
their ambitions mirrored those of Antonio and Sebastian. It’s unclear
whether Prospero’s comment about Caliban suggests that he sees him as
his property, or that he takes some responsibility for what has happened
to Caliban.
The courtiers and Prospero mock Stephano and Trinculo for their drunken state and foiled ambitions. Prospero orders Caliban
to take the two men to his cell and prepare it for the guests, saying,
“As you look to have my pardon, trim it handsomely”.
Subservient again, Caliban complies, saying “What a thrice-double ass
was I to take this drunkard for a god and worship this dull fool!”. Even Caliban is given the hope of freedom,
or at least pardon, as long as he follows Prospero’s orders faithfully
and well, as Ariel and Ferdinand did. Yet it’s hard not to pity
Caliban’s ignorant naiveté when he curses himself for worshipping
Stephano.
Prospero invites Alonso
and his court to spend the night in his cell, where he promises to tell
the story of his time on the island. In the morning, he says, they will
all return to Naples, where Miranda and Ferdinand will be married. From there, Prospero says, he will return to Milan “where every third thought shall be my grave”. Prospero has restored political order by
regaining his dukedom and by establishing his line through the marriage
of Ferdinand and Miranda. Now when he dies, the dukedom will pass to
Ferdinand.
Prospero gives Ariel the final task of ensuring the ship a safe, speedy voyage back to Italy, then grants Ariel his freedom. Ariel has served Prospero well. Now he gets freedom, his reward for loyalty and for his willingness to surrender his autonomy.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
THE TEMPEST WITH ALLIE: Act 4, Scene 1 Summary/Analysis
Prospero gives Ferdinand his blessing to marry Miranda,
saying that Ferdinand has stood up well to Prospero’s tests of his
love. He threatens harsh consequences, however, if Ferdinand takes
Miranda’s virginity before an official wedding ceremony takes place.
Ferdinand pledges to obey Prospero’s wishes.
Ferdinand wins his freedom and love because
he faced his loss of power without bitterness. Every character who bears
loss in this way in The Tempest is ultimately rewarded so far.
Prospero orders Ariel to gather his band of spirits to put on a celebratory masque, or performance, for the new couple. The masque begins when Iris, the Greek goddess of the rainbow, calls Ceres, the harvest goddess, to come and join her in celebrating the marriage. Juno,
wife of Zeus and queen of the gods, appears next. Juno bestows her
blessing on the couple, wishing them wealth and honor, while Ceres
blesses them with wishes of prosperity. In awe, Ferdinand wishes he
could stay on the island forever, with Miranda as his wife and Prospero
as his father. Iris commands nymphs and harvest spirits to perform a
country dance.
Prospero has been using his magic to
manipulate and control the play’s other characters. Now he steps into
the role of playwright and “writes” the masque. In the process, he
displays his full power, so amazing and humbling Ferdinand that the boy
is now in awe of his father-in-law.
Suddenly, Prospero recalls Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo‘s conspiracy to kill him. He calls an abrupt end to the festivities and the spirits vanish. Ferdinand
is unsettled by Prospero’s change in demeanor. Prospero reassures him,
saying that an end must come to all things: “We are such stuff as dreams
are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep”. He instructs the lovers to go and rest in his cave
without telling them any more details of what is going on.
At this moment, Prospero almost seems to
lose control. It’s as if he got so caught up in his “art” that he lost
track of real life (which is also what led to Prospero’s fall in Milan).
Though Prospero’s speech can be seen as a meditation on age and
mortality, many critics believe that it refers to the impermanence of
Shakespeare’s own craft and legacy.
Prospero summons Ariel,
who reports that he has led the drunken conspirators on a torturous
walk through briar patches and a stinking swamp. He describes their plot
to steal Prospero’s cloak and books before killing him. Prospero curses
Caliban, calling him “a born devil, on whose nature nurture can never stick”.
Prospero’s remark about Caliban echoes
Miranda’s observation in 1.2 that certain races are naturally indecent
and inferior. This rationale was a common justification for colonization
and slavery.
Monday, December 3, 2012
THE TEMPEST WITH ALLIE: Act 2 Scene 1 Summary/Analysis
Elsewhere
on the island, the other courtiers find themselves washed up on the
island’s shores. Alonso is despondent because he can’t find Ferdinand, whom he believes to be dead. Gonzalo
tries to comfort him by saying that they should be thankful that they
survived, but Alonso is to sad to listen to him. Alonso also ignores
Gonzalo‘s observation that it is strange how fresh their clothing seems.
Meanwhile, off to one side, Antonio and Sebastian look on and mock Gonzalo’s positive attitude.
Alonso reacts to the loss of his son with
extreme sadness. The cheerful Gonzalo tries to remain optimistic, while
the power-hungry Antonio and Sebastian mock Gonzalo from the sidelines.
Though Antonio and Sebastian dismiss him as a fool, only Gonzalo detects
the strangeness of the shipwreck and the island.
Francisco, another lord, also tries to comfort Alonso. Sebastian,
on the other hand, lays the blame for Ferdinand’s death on Alonso,
saying that it was his own fault for going against his advisors’ counsel
and permitting his daughter to marry an African. Gonzalo scolds
Sebastian for his harsh words, and Antonio and Sebastian once more mock Gonzalo again.
Sebastian’s condemnation of Alonso shows a
surprising lack of brotherly feeling. He also demonstrates blatant
racism in his condemnation of Alonso’s decision to allow his daughter to
marry an African.
Gonzalo continues talking and
explains how he would govern such an island if he were king. He
envisions people dwelling in a completely agrarian society, without
leaders or language, where everyone lives in harmony, peace, and plenty.
“All things in common nature should produce without sweat or endeavor,”
he says. He elaborates this utopian vision while Antonio and Sebastian continue their snide commentary. Alonso
remains troubled and disinclined to hear Gonzalo’s talk. Gonzalo then
turns on Antonio and Sebastian, scolding them once again, this time for
their mockery and cowardice.
Ariel enters, invisible, and plays music that makes Gonzalo and Alonso fall asleep. As they sleep, Antonio slyly presents a murder plot to Sebastian. Since Ferdinand is almost definitely dead, Antonio says, Alonso‘s
death would make Sebastian King of Naples. Sebastian is drawn in,
remembering how Antonio overthrew his own brother. He hesitates a bit,
though, asking Antonio if his conscience bothers him for what he did to
Prospero. Antonio dismisses the question.
Being away from civilization on the island
inspired Gonzalo to imagine a perfect society. In contrast, Antonio and
Sebastian see being on the lawless island as an opportunity to steal
Alonso’s power. Their only constraint is morality, but Antonio ignores
morality.
Sebastian is convinced to go ahead with the plot, and Sebastian and Antonio draw their swords. Just then, Ariel enters again, and sings a soft warning. Gonzalo and Alonso
awaken. Caught with their swords out, the two conspirators claim
somewhat unconvincingly that they heard loud bellowing nearby and sought
to protect their comrades from a beast they believed was nearby.
Gonzalo and Alonso, unsettled, draw their swords and exit, followed by
Ariel, who plans to tell Prospero of the plot he has foiled.
Ariel’s entry is a reminder that despite
Antonio and Sebastian’s dreams of taking power, they’re actually under
Prospero’s tight control. Acting under Prospero orders, Ariel put Alonso
and Gonzalo to sleep in order to create a situation in which Antonio
and Sebastian might reveal their true immoral natures.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
THE TEMPEST WITH ALLIE: Summary/Analysis of Act 1 Scene 2
Miranda and Prospero watch the tempest from the shore of an island. Miranda pities the seafarers, saying “O, I have suffered with those that I saw suffer!” Suspecting that this is the work of her magician father, she pleads with him to calm the waters. Miranda’s character is gentle, empathetic, and kind. She is aware of her father’s great magical powers and always obeys him.
Prospero reassures her that no harm has been done and says that it’s time to tell Miranda about her past. He takes off his cloak, saying, “Lie there my art”. Prospero then reveals to Miranda that he was once Duke of Milan and that Miranda was a princess.
Prospero’s magic cloak represents his
ability to construct illusions. He takes it off when he decides to tell
Miranda the truth about her past.
Prospero explains how, while duke, he became wrapped up in reading his books, allowing his brother Antonio
to handle the affairs of the state. Antonio proved a skilled politician
and gained a great deal of power through his dealings, until he seemed
to believe himself Duke of Milan.
Prospero essentially gave Antonio full power. Yet Antonio wanted more than power: he wanted to be duke, and in turn, to look powerful.
Antonio persuaded Alonso, the King of Naples and a long-time enemy of Milan, to help him overthrow Prospero.
To sway Alonso, Antonio promised that, as duke, he would pay an annual
tribute to Naples and accept Alonso as the ultimate ruler of Milan.
To overthrow his brother, Antonio makes
himself subservient to Alonso, trading one master for another. He gains
no more power, but he does gain the title of duke.
Alonso and Antonio arranged for soldiers to kidnap Prospero and Miranda
in the middle of the night. The soldiers hurried them aboard a fine
ship, and then, several miles out to sea, cast them into a rickety boat.
The pair survived only through the generosity of Gonzalo,
an advisor to Alonso, who provided them with necessities like fresh
water, clothing, blankets, and food, as well as Prospero’s beloved books.
Though they didn’t use any magic, Alonso and
Antonio created the illusion that Prospero and Miranda were sent away
in a fine ship, in order to mask their evil intentions. Gonzalo’s
generosity shows his goodness.
Miranda says that she would like to meet Gonzalo someday. She then asks Prospero
why he created the storm. Prospero replies that circumstances have
brought his enemies close to the island’s shores. He feels that if he
does not act now, he may never have a chance again. Prospero then puts a
spell on Miranda so that she sleeps and asks no more questions.
Miranda’s wish foreshadows the reunion that
Prospero has set in motion. His reply to her highlights how quickly
fortunes can change, casting one person out of favor while another
assumes power.
Prospero summons his servant Ariel, who greets Prospero as his “great master,” then gleefully describes how he created the illusion of the storm. Following Prospero’s
instructions, Ariel made sure that no one was injured and dispersed the
courtiers throughout the island, leaving Alonso’s son all alone. The
sailors are in a deep sleep within the ship, which is in a hidden harbor
along the shore. The rest of the fleet sailed on for Naples, believing
the king dead.
Ariel when describing his exploits in creating the tempest indicate
He seemed to enjoy it, and is willing to do
whatever his master bids him to do. Ariel response to Prospero’s power
over him is cheerful... yet Ariel would rather be free.
Prospero thanks Ariel.
Ariel reminds Prospero that he had promised to reduce Ariel’s time in
servitude if Ariel performed the tasks that Prospero gave him. Prospero
angrily reminds Ariel how he rescued Ariel from imprisonment. Ariel had
refused to do the cruel bidding of Sycorax,
the witch who ruled the island before Prospero’s arrival. Sycorax then
imprisoned Ariel in a tree, and didn’t free him before she died. Ariel
might have been stuck in that tree forever if Prospero had not freed
him. Ariel begs Prospero’s pardon, and Prospero promises Ariel his
freedom in two days’ time. Prospero then instructs Ariel to make himself
invisible to all but Prospero. Ariel exits. Prospero and Ariel have a
complex relationship. Prospero freed Ariel from imprisonment but then
enslaved him himself. Prospero appears to be a pleasant and kind master
to Ariel, until the moment it becomes clear that Ariel would prefer not
to have a master at all. Then Prospero wields his power more harshly,
and becomes friendly only when Ariel begs his pardon.
Prospero awakens Miranda and, calling for his “poisonous slave,” summons, Caliban, the malformed son of Sycorax.
Caliban and Prospero immediately start trading curses. Caliban asserts
his rightful claim to the island as Sycorax’s son, and recalls how, when
Prospero first came to the island “Thou strok’st me and made much of
me; wouldst give me / Water with berries in’t; and teach me how / To
name the bigger light, and how the less ... and then I lov’d thee, / And
show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle, / The fresh springs,
brine-pits, barren place, and fertile”. But then, Caliban
says, Prospero made Caliban, who had been king of the island, his
subject and servant. Like Ariel, Caliban is Prospero’s slave. But where Ariel is cheerful in
his servitude, Caliban is bitter. Why? Perhaps because Prospero rescued
Ariel from a worse imprisonment, while Caliban previously had been free
and powerful. The process Caliban describes, in which Prospero first
befriended Caliban, educated him, and then enslaved him is similar to
methods of European explorers—they often did the same thing to the
natives in the lands they colonized.
Prospero angrily responds that he treated Caliban with “human care” and even let Caliban live in his own home. Yet, in response,
Caliban tried to rape Miranda. Caliban replies, “O ho! Would’t had been
done.” Prospero sees himself as having been nothing but kind to Caliban.
Caliban’s anger is so great that he is unrepetant for trying to rape
Miranda.
Miranda angrily scolds Caliban,
recalling how she tried to lift him out of savagery by teaching him to
speak their language “When thou didst not, savage, / Know thine own
meaning, but wouldst gabble like / A thing most brutish”..
Yet despite this gift of education, Miranda continues, Caliban remained
innately vile and brutal. Caliban retorts, “You taught me language, and
my profit on’t is, I know how to curse”. The viewpoints of colonizer and colonized are on display here. Miranda
believes Caliban owes her a debt of gratitude for trying to civilize
him. But Caliban sees himself as having been free, and insists he was
better off without all the “elevating,” which resulted in him losing his
autonomy.
Enraged, Prospero
hurls new curses at Caliban and orders him to get to his chores.
Caliban grudgingly obeys, knowing that Prospero’s power is greater than
his own, and exits.
Like Ariel, Caliban submits to Prospero’s
power. Ariel submitted humbly, but Caliban feels bitter and resentful in
giving up his power.
Nearby, the invisible Ariel sings a haunting song to Ferdinand,
Alonso’s son, who has awakened to find himself alone on the island. The
song’s lyrics deceive Ferdinand into believing that his father drowned
in the shipwreck: “Full fathom five thy father lies. / Of his bones are
coral made”. Unseen, Prospero and Miranda
watch Ferdinand approach. Miranda declares Ferdinand handsome.
Ferdinand soon notices Miranda and, struck by her beauty, tells her of
his troubles. She expresses pity for him, and they fall in love at first
sight. Prospero, in an aside, admits that he is pleased by their
attraction. Ferdinand is another character deeply affected by loss—the death of his
father. Alonso isn’t really dead, but Prospero manipulates Ferdinand
into thinking that he is. Prospero’s trick reveals one of Miranda’s best
qualities—her sympathetic nature to Ferdinand. Prospero’s pleased
response to Ferdinand and Miranda’s attraction suggests that he desires
reconciliation with his enemies, not revenge.
However, to test the depth of Ferdinand’s love for Miranda,
Prospero speaks sharply to Ferdinand and takes him into captivity as a
servant. Miranda begs her father not to treat Ferdinand too harshly, but
Prospero angrily silences her and
leads Ferdinand away. For his part, Ferdinand says that the captivity
and hard labor Prospero promises will be easy as long as he regularly
gets to see Miranda. Prospero has now enslaved three people. In contrast to Caliban,
Ferdinand cheerfully accepts his loss of power. Ferdinand is cheerful
because he dreams of Miranda’s love. Caliban, whom Miranda saw as a
savage, never had a chance at love with Miranda.
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