Elements In The Context Of The Renaissance

Published Date: 02 Nov 2017

When dealing with the analysis of supernatural elements in a text, the perception of which is subject to change, the text needs to be put into the chronological and social perspective. According to Jackson, any text, including a literary fantasy, is created within, and determined by, its social context. What this means is that it cannot be understood in separation from it(3). The perception of what is considered to be supernatural changes throughout time depending on various elements, including the technological and scientific advances in a given society. Therefore, the literary fantasy has a very complicated relationship with "reality", as Jackson claims. She argues that fantasy alters in character over the years in accordance with the changing notion of "reality" (4). This is of crucial importance when analysing The Tempest (written c.1611), because it may be assumed that worldviews have changed significantly since Shakespeare’s times. This is why a general introduction about the time and place of the text’s production is in order.

In Shakespeare’s times, as Greer states, the theatre had become less serious and more sensational, while the employment of imagination had become less significant. The theatre was in a situation where it had to satisfy the self-importance of its patrons, who could decide what was to be played and when. England experienced a corrosion of public morality and an increase in social tensions and factionalism. Therefore, it was a time when one worldview, embedded in the mystical and supernatural, was giving way to a more rational outlook on life with the developments in science (37). This argument is supported by Belton, who cites D.G. James’ claim that The Tempest is Europe’s farewell to magic as a part of its perception of the world (1).

According to C.S. Lewis, magic in the Renaissance was considered a technique of dominating the nature as it was in close relation to science (Williams 2). In accordance with the dominant worldview, Prospero’s powers do not stem from "artificial magic", but from "natural magic", as Belton states. They are the product of comprehensive understanding of the secrets of nature, which may seem like a miracle or an illusion to the ignorant mind (127). Even though Prospero’s efforts are connected to divine illumination, according to Belton, Shakespeare’s audience saw this as the only objective and reliable source of knowledge (130). Therefore, magical motifs in The Tempest were most likely well-known to the contemporary audience, since its elements were present in mythology and folklore, as cited by Latham. The motif of an illusory banquet, for example, had long been a renowned magician’s trick (218).

When the theory of the fantastic genre is applied to this work, given the fact that the text at hand is a play, we may conclude that the reader is provided with the same amount of information as the characters in the text. In Brooke-Rose’s terms the reader is neither over- nor under-determined, and the text is balanced (122). In Todorov’s terms, the text of The Tempest falls into the category of the exotic marvellous (55). The supernatural events are reported in a manner that does not portray them as unusual. On the level of the implicit reader, there is no reason for questioning the information given about the origin of magical events. On the level of individual characters, however, each one’s reaction depends on specific circumstances. According to Todorov, these reactions may be classified as uncanny, fantastic or marvellous (41-57). This issue will be examined further on in the paper, with an emphasis on Caliban’s and Miranda’s reactions in light of their portrayal as commodities.

3. Colonisation in The Tempest

3.1. Caliban and the Construction of the "Other"

Any discussion of the colonial venture must begin with an explanation of its discourse and its positioning in the contemporary social context. As stated by Brown, the discourse of colonialism is said to function by constructing a threatening "other", which is used to condone colonial activities. In this way, enslavement is justified in the name of a supposed superior virtue (47-69). It is a process which Brown refers to as the euphemisation of power, where subversive elements in a given culture serve as a justification for illegitimate actions (63). Superficially speaking, this explanation may seem valid in the general sense of colonialism. However, on the textual level of The Tempest, the aforementioned definition may have its weaknesses.

According to Jackson, early romance fantasies describe and limit otherness as something "evil or diabolic". The construction of the "other" is always surrounded by "blackness, night, and darkness" (53). A term often used in The Tempest, demon, according to Jackson’s argument, signifies something malignant, a destructive force at work (54). Evidently, this "other" (or the subversive element) in The Tempest is Caliban. Brown indisputably identifies Caliban as a "threatening other" whose resistance to enslavement legitimises the execution of colonialist power (60). His claims are not an exception. Critics such as Flagstad support the thesis that Caliban is a menace to the basic principles of Western civilization (216). However, critics such as Vaughan and Marx propose an additional connotation to this type of reading of The Tempest. For example, Vaughan proposes that Caliban is a symbol for the Indians who lost their property and freedom to European intruders (137). This type of reading, however, will be dealt with in the next section of the paper.

Brown claims that The Tempest is not only a reflection of the contemporary views on colonialism, but Shakespeare’s intervention into this topic (47). To believe, however, that Shakespeare endorsed the colonial enterprise is absolutely unjustified. We are brought back to the crucial distinction between the author and his characters. Prospero’s views on Caliban are not necessarily Shakespeare’s views. Just because Prospero may perceive him as a threatening "other", it does not mean that the author or the audience do. What needs to be stressed is the fact that Caliban is constructed in such a way that makes it very hard for the audience to perceive him as a real threat. Examples will be given of such instances in which the audience is invited to sympathise with Caliban instead of fearing him or condemning him. This section of the paper will elaborate on the fact that there is no written evidence in the text for confusing the author with Prospero. It will be argued that Shakespeare created a myriad of nuances to Caliban which do not support the claim that he is simply a savage who needs to be subjected.

Prospero’s vague descriptions of Caliban allow for the audience’s imagination to go wild. The audience is left wondering what kind of a creature he actually is. However, instances in which Caliban demonstrates that his nature is not as vile as Prospero would have the audience believe are numerous. First of all, Caliban is not ignorant of Prospero’s magic. He is well aware both of the existence of spirits and the fact that the magic is Prospero’s doing. From the point of view of Todorov’s theory, Caliban inhabits the domain of the marvellous (41-57), which is to say he does not question the origin of Prospero’s magic or the noises of the island.

Moreover, his suggestion that Prospero’s books should be burned, demonstrates a level of understanding deeper than one would expect from an alleged brute. Furthermore, he experiences agony over his enslavement when he utters: "As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer that by his/cunning hath cheated me of the island" (III.ii.40-41). One is left wondering why Caliban is so frequently referred to as an evil creature. Prospero, however, treats this alleged "brute" in a horrible manner. He is aware of the fact that he needs Caliban, but his enslavement is never once questioned by him or any other character, except Caliban himself. Prospero’s statement that "nurture can never stick" (IV.i.189) on his evil and savage nature is repeatedly denied and contradicted.

Arguments that Shakespeare endorsed colonisation seem highly improbable if one becomes aware of the "human" characteristic assigned to Caliban, which are not necessarily functional in the plot. In other words, Shakespeare would not have created such a complex character had his intention really been to construct simply an evil savage. Furthermore, Shakespeare gave Caliban rightful possession of the island, while it is Prospero who usurped it without question. "This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother" (I.ii.331), proclaims Caliban, while Prospero’s (im)moral claim over the island is never mentioned. However, it is not clear what makes Prospero apt for ruling this island. His ability to rule is questionable, to say the least, since the audience knows he was proclaimed unfit to rule over Milan. His fitness for rule over the island is then produced solely out of the fact that he comes from a Western culture.

Furthermore, it is Shakespeare who made Caliban have dreams and desire for freedom. Caliban is the only character whose dreams Shakespeare makes known to the audience, both literally and metaphorically. He is given dreams of freedom, a desire to escape his enslaved condition. However, this seems almost like a double-edged sword for Caliban. On the one hand, he has been raised by the Western culture, but has not appropriated it completely. On the other hand, he is no longer a simple savage. He is unable to live in complete freedom, but cannot stand the enslavement either.

Besides dreams, desires and the ability to appreciate music and beauty, Caliban is also able to experience love and affection. His early relationship with Prospero is evidence of this claim. While Marx claims that Caliban is monstrous, he admits that there is "a hint of basic sensitivity in him that makes him susceptible to music and landscape". In consequence, he is more likeable than the dishonest and corrupted men of Europe (62).

Moreover, Caliban is able to learn. One must assume that a lowly character would not be able to learn the language of Prospero. "You taught me language; and my profit on't/Is, I know how to curse" (I.ii.362-363), he proclaims. Those curses are not mere imitation, but he seems to grasp the complexity of the language, concluded from the fact that his language does not distinguish from the language of other characters. Additionally, besides being able to acquire knowledge, he is also able to teach others about the ways of the island.

Even though he is presented as capable of rape, the account of the attempted rape is told from Prospero’s mouth. In order words, it is told from the point of view of the Western culture. If we perceive Prospero as a sort of a narrator, we have to question the extent to which we trust him. Caliban’s admittance of an attempted rape, "Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else/This isle with Calibans" (I.ii.350-351), cannot be taken as completely dependable. First of all, he is probably repeating what Prospero and Miranda have taught him. Secondly, we must treat this as an off-stage event and conclude that there is no way of knowing what really happened. The audience, naturally, does not blindly trust nor Prospero or Caliban, but is invited to consider different aspects of both characters.

Marx argues that the island does not represent the good, the evidence being that it is Caliban’s home, who is as evil as the deceitful men of Milan (70). However, Caliban’s desire to overthrow Prospero must not be identified with Stephano and Trinculo’s. While the two men are led by their hunger for power, Caliban is led by the desire to end this enslaved condition, even if it means subjecting himself to a different master.

Caliban’s reasoning in the end is the ultimate evidence that Prospero is not voicing Shakespeare’s opinions. The author puts the following words into Caliban’s mouth: "I'll be wise hereafter/And seek for grace" (V.i.294-295). Prospero, however, still does not depart from his claim that "on a devil’s nature nurture can never stick" (IV.i.188-189). He acknowledges Caliban as "a thing of darkness" (V.i.275) which is of his own making. If Caliban truly has not learned anything, as Prospero claims, he must see it as his failure as master, teacher, even father. Furthermore, Caliban feels shame, he feels he is being mocked: "How he mocks me" (III.ii.29), he cries. The audience learns that he is self-conscious, able to feel humiliation and embarrassment, a trait found exclusively in sensible human beings. Prospero’s assessment of Caliban is finally shattered in the eyes of the audience. Therefore, we must once again reconsider the conventional belief that Caliban is simply a savage brute, whose characteristics serve to justify the colonial venture.

3.2. American criticism of Colonial Ventures

Leo Marx's American reading of The Tempest points out the fact that Shakespeare wrote the play three to four years after the permanent colony had been established at Jamestown in 1607. However, he states that the play is not in any literal sense about America. Nevertheless, in The Tempest he finds elements of a shipwreck in 1609 when Sea Adventure, one of the fleets heading to Virginia was caught in a storm, after which it sank in Bermuda, with everyone aboard getting safely to shore (40). According to Marx, this indicates that Shakespeare was aware of what his countrymen were doing in the rest of the world. The play’s theme, he goes on to elaborate, deals with a highly civilized European who finds himself in the wilderness. The setting of the play and the strong sense of place and its impact on the characters, as well as the fight against nature and the corruption of the Europeans epitomise the typical condition of explorers travelling to remote parts of the planet (41).

The landscape is the crucial part of the American reading of The Tempest, since most of the Elizabethan ideas of America were embedded in images of landscape, argues Marx. The landscape of these distant locations is "untouched by history", reminding of the "virgin land" (42). Marx is clearly referring to the western notion of "history" and "landscape". This statement must be questioned. How is it that this landscape lacks history, one may ask. It certainly lacks the influence of western civilisation. Nonetheless, taken into account that the colonised lands were inhabited by indigenous peoples, there are no grounds for claiming that it lacks history. This can easily be applied to The Tempest, with Caliban as the representative of the indigenous peoples of the Americas.

A conventional concept of the Americas in Elizabethan literature was to view the new lands as locations for a "new golden age", which is a notion that supported the colonisation, argues Marx. Moreover, the motif of the enchanted garden was appearing throughout cultural production (44). The island in The Tempest is one such place. The garden is one of the most profound and long-lasting of human motives, it is claimed (45). However, an account of the American landscape radically opposed to the garden also came about at the time. This standpoint perceived the new world as a place of "hellish darkness" that produces fear of malicious forces and of brutish traits of man. According to this viewpoint, all the desirable features of civilization were absent from the "raw continent" (46). Both concepts of the garden epitomise the yearning to escape the limitations of a complex society, argues Marx. The utopian vision of the garden, on the one hand, depicts independence and leisure, while the opposing one sees it as an unsightly wasteland that enables the exercise of power (48). In effect, the new world is neither Eden nor an unsightly wasteland, or perhaps it is both, Marx suggests (48). Prospero himself is, in fact, the middle ground between and the compromise between two worlds, both the idyllic garden and the wilderness (67). Marx argues that Shakespeare creates a no man’s land between civilization and the new world (54).

When Stephano and Trinculo meet Caliban, a thunder is heard in the distance and the audience is reminded of the opening tempest scene (56). It is a reminder of the island before Prospero, before European colonisation, and of the powerful forces of nature that were reigning before the western man conquered the island and civilized it. In the meantime, Prospero had, according to Marx, controlled many displeasing and unsightly features of primitive nature (57). But now the audience is presented with a reminder of the island’s past in the form of Caliban. His threatening presence reminds the audience that the terrifying forces of nature displayed by the storm are still active, Marx argues (57). Marx neglects to mention, however, that the storm can do no real harm, since it was produced solely as a means of achieving Prospero’s intentions. Furthermore, this allegedly frightening event was caused by the hand of a European. Never once is the morality of the colonial venture questioned in Marx’s paper. The colonisation is taken for granted. He is primarily concerned with the notion of the "garden" and the landscape in general, but he does not depict the colonial enterprise as an intrusion into nature, nor does he condemn the devastation thereof. Even though he acknowledges the natives’ loss of freedom and land, no real weight is attributed to this. He offers the standpoint of the settler, but does not make any real effort to claim that these views are not his own. Therefore we must assume that Marx’s viewpoint is in line with colonial criticism that uses the notion of the "other" as a threat in order to justify exploitation.

4. Commodification and Early Capitalist Relations

The only inhabitants of the island who do not possess any magic powers are Caliban and Miranda. They are both aware of the existence of magic and understand that it is Prospero's doing. However, they are unable to exert control over nature or other creatures. In this section of the paper it will be argued that their condition is symptomatic of the general role they perform in the play. Caliban is openly termed a slave, while Miranda's condition positions her as an instrument in the hands of Prospero. Furthermore, both characters may be seen as commodities subject to exploitation by the Western coloniser. This will be elaborated in the light of the rising capitalist relations in the early 17th century.

4.1. Natives as Commodities – The Exploitation of Caliban

It is well-known that The Tempest was produced at a time when capitalism as we know it today started taking its shape. According to Weber’s model, it was the waning of magic that led to a more rational society and free labour, which in turn enabled the development of modern capitalism (53-101). As argued by Cefalu, the evolution from pre-capitalist to capitalist relations is depicted in Caliban’s relationship with the Europeans (105). Early on, his early relationship with Prospero (representing the Europeans) is friendly, and the native introduces the European to the customs of the island. The following paragraph spoken by Caliban portrays the progression of this complex relationship:

"When thou camest first/Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me/Water with berries in't, and teach me how/To name the bigger light, and how the less/That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee/And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle/The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile" (I.ii.332-338)

Afterwards, Caliban is coerced into working under Prospero. As Cefalu argues, this work is unproductive. There is no division of labour and no social order arranged on the basis of productivity. How many thousands of logs does Prospero really need, ask Cefalu (105), and with good reason. What this question implies is that Caliban is not obliged to work for Prospero only to ensure his and Miranda’s livelihood. He is, in fact, forced to work for Prospero because his power exists in the absence of any legitimating norms, values or institutions (105). What Cefalu is saying here is that Western power exists without any legitimate rules. It rests exclusively on the alleged superiority of one way of life over another - capital over nature. For the Western man, represented by Prospero and the men of Milan, Caliban is a commodity. "If I can recover him/and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a/present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's leather" (II.ii.65-67), declares Stephano.

In the beginning, however, Caliban is not seen as valuable, claims Cefalu. He is simply something to marvel at. The first time he is declared valuable is when Stephano refers to him as a "present for any Emperor…" (II.ii.66). This pivotal moment in Caliban’s transformation into a commodity, according to Cefalu, happens when he replaces Prospero as master with Stephano after being given liquor. He gives his promise that in return for liquor, he will show Stephano and Trinculo the island and perform labour for them (106). In other words, it is claimed that he is putting his workforce towards a self-interested goal, and he has, in fact, replaced both masters with a new one – the capital. This is the process that Cefalu calls Caliban’s self-alienation (107). It is Prospero’s subjugation that leads to his alienation from the tasks which he once gladly performed. As it is stated, for a moment he is free from coercion from his master, or any master. In fact, now he is the one in change of the conditions of the deal. Unlike the work unwillingly performed for Prospero, now he offers the men of Milan commodities that colonizers may find interesting – commodities that are exchangeable for further profit (108). Cefalu claims that the moment when Prospero’s power is no longer legitimate is the moment of Caliban’s symbolic transformation into a "possessive individualist" guided by his own needs, without the influence of Prospero’s magic (111). What Cefalu does not mention is the fact that after this so-called transformation, he goes back to being enslaved by Prospero. However, in conclusion of the play, he does become free from any master. How he will profit from this newfound "possessive individualism" remains unclear. The audience is left wondering how the creature raised by the West will now exist in its absence.

4.2. Miranda’s Transformation into a Marketable Commodity

Miranda embodies the qualities of natural simplicity, breeding and education, states Marx (65). As in Caliban's case, oppression and slavery of precapitalist relations transform into relations of capital and commodity worship, Cefalu claims (105). In support of this claim, Cefalu describes the conversion of Miranda from "a primitive exchange object to a commodity fetish". Cefalu offers the following explanation of Miranda’s development. Initially, she is offered as a gift to Ferdinand, as if she is an exchange object for which the counter-gift to Prospero will be the restoration of the throne of Milan. On the other hand, it is almost impossible to consider her a "gift" given the fact that she is "purchased" by Ferdinand through his work for Prospero. From an object in a natural economy, she is transformed into an object of exchange in market-type relations, Cefalu explains. Moreover, Ferdinand’s labours are soon rendered invisible so that he separates from the labour undertaken in the process of Miranda’s "purchase", whereby she becomes a symbol of Ferdinand's detached labour (106).

Miranda is one of the characters subjected to Prospero, but unlike other characters she does not seem to fully grasp her subjected condition. In accordance with her role, she possesses no magic powers and blindly relies on Prospero’s guidance. Precisely because of the aforementioned characteristics, she often finds herself in the domain of the fantastic, as defined by Todorov (41-57), waiting for a resolution of this state provided by Prospero. She relies completely upon his explanations and does not question Prospero’s magic. "More to know/Did never meddle with my thoughts" (I.ii.22-23), she states. In the beginning of the play, she inquires about the origin of the tempest. It could be either a natural event or her father’s magic: "If by your art, my dearest father, you have/Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them" (I.ii.2). Therefore, she inhabits the domain of the fantastic until she readily accepts her father’s explanation. "No more amazement", responds Prospero, "There’s no harm done"(I.ii.12-13.) Now, Miranda finds herself in the domain of the fantastic marvellous, since she realised that the tempest was Prospero’s doing. When Prospero grows tired of Miranda’s questions, he simply puts her to sleep, demonstrating once again that she is simply an instrument that serves his intentions: "Here cease more questions: Thou art inclined to sleep/'tis a good dullness/And give it way: I know thou canst not choose" (I.ii.184-186).

When she lays eyes upon Ferdinand for the first time, she asks "What is’t?/A spirit?" (I.ii.409). Again in the domain of fantastic, she is in need of Prospero’s direction. In this very instance, there is a discord between the implied reader and the character. For the implied reader Miranda’s hesitation may be solved in the direction of the uncanny, for we learn Ferdinand is a flesh and blood human being. For Miranda, on the other hand, it seems to go in the direction of the marvellous. "A thing divine", she calls him, "for nothing natural/I ever saw so noble" (I.ii.17-18). This is the instance where her purpose in the play is fully grasped. She serves, in part, to inquire about Prospero’s doings on behalf of the reader. At this point, however, the audience realises she is not a reliable guide. She is simply a commodity for trade and an instrument for Prospero in reconquering the throne of Milan.