Hey, hey, hey now, put down your torches, I’m not the one that said it. This guy did.
I’ve had a challenging relationship with The Tempest for almost 20 years. It’s how I introduced my children to Shakespeare. I told it to them as a bedtime fairy tale. Once upon a time, a girl lived on a faraway island with her father, a powerful wizard. She learns from him that she is a long-lost princess who was banished here, with her father, by his enemies. One day, a ship runs ashore on their island, full of pirates set on seizing control of their island, but her father is far too powerful for them. Among the pirates, however, is a good man, a handsome prince, who marries her and takes her away to live happily ever after.
Did I skip a few steps? Sure. But we’re talking about a 5-year-old and her 3-year-old sister, and I had to make adjustments. My youngest was still a baby when we started this, and it’d be a few years before he asked for Hamlet. He tried King Lear once, but it made him sad. I’m not kidding.
The Big White Elephant In The Room
“But what about the whole colonialism thing?” I was asked right around the time Julie Taymor’s movie version came out. At the time, I answered honestly – I never really thought about it. To me, The Tempest can be read as the story of a father’s readiness to do anything for his daughter, including overcoming his desire for revenge.
But no one’s letting the colonialism thing go, and it’s only gotten more intense over the years. I don’t disagree that this is also the story of a powerful white man who showed up on land that wasn’t his, took one look at the creatures already living there, and said, “Mine. You’re all my slaves now.” That is also all true.
And, much like when a celebrity that’s been doing good things in the spotlight for decades suddenly has a clip surface of something they said once twenty years ago, Prospero is basically canceled. It wasn’t long before I saw articles arguing that he’s one of the worst fathers in Shakespeare. Sigh.
For years, I would answer the question, “What’s your favorite play?” with The Tempest because of the connection with my children. I stopped doing that. My children, now college-age, even stopped doing that. Because nobody wants to be attacked over it. You like that one? Therefore, you must agree with all historical instances of colonialism! That’s the only possible answer!
Where Does Hamlet Come Into This?
I still regularly skim my headlines and news stories for Shakespeare content. When I (rarely) see a Tempest story, I always check it out to see if there’s anything we can talk about. This is a good one. The author, Joseph Bissex, wants to talk about forgiveness. The Tempest makes sense, but Hamlet? I don’t think I’ve ever, to this moment, thought of Hamlet as a play with any forgiveness to be found or deserved. Claudius killed his father. We’ll assume for the sake of argument that this is a proven point and not still up for debate. There’s an audience that wants Hamlet to forgive him for that?
Prospero’s enemies actually didn’t kill anybody. I realize that was their intent, and it was only through Gonzago’s aid that they survived. But they did survive.
Here, the author focuses on Hamlet’s line to Ophelia, “Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.” In that moment he sees her as a fair creature and asks her to pray for him. To Bissex, this is the crucial moment. Hamlet should have stopped right there. He hasn’t killed anybody yet. He should (my words) leave them all to heaven. We could have ended up in a comedy with a marriage at the end (his words).
I don’t really think The Tempest is better than Hamlet. Much of that is because of the magic element. The most interesting thing about Shakespeare to me is the depiction of human nature. Despite the royalty, swordfight and fine, ghost, it’s a more accurate and in-depth depiction of human relationships than one about magic spirits, even if I do like the father/daughter dynamic more for obvious reasons.
But this angle is an interesting comparison that you don’t typically see.