Writing Derring-do: "Would you be interested in writing something based on a picture?" Yes: "Onlookers and Witnesses" is the answer

(Foto by Henri Cartier-Bresson)

These last few months everything reminds me of Shakespeare…

Last week I posted a picture a friend of mine sent me. There was a challenge attached to it, i.e., to be able to write something about it. As soon I’d laid my eyes on it what immediately came to mind was Romeo and Juliet, namely Mercutio's death scene.

Mercutio's death is public and ostentatiously violent with booming sounds ending “s” with "a plague on both your houses", without forgiveness.

The deaths of Romeo and Juliet is in a church with a candled environment, private and solemn,  holy in its light and setting, with the commission of unholy acts of suicide.  The close up of Juliet awakening is suspenseful, the viewer wants Romeo to see that Juliet lives.  The music is sad and moving.

Several things struck me about Mercutio's death scene. Throughout the scene was we see more and more onlookers. More and more arrive on the scene. Then, when Mercutio dies no one wants to see anything anymore and everyone leaves fast. One person even encloses himself in a large pineapple. 

The other thing that struck me was the large stage with the big hole in the middle. It looks like an eye.

Mercutio's death probably means different things to the different onlookers depending on when they arrived. The guy in the pineapple probably does not what to even think about what Mercutio's death means.

In contrast the dead of Romeo meant only one thing to Juliet. She had to take her own life. 

Having watched Luhrmann’s film version recently and looking at the picture prompt me to write this little poem:

Onlookers and Witnesses

Onlookers

Lookers on

Lookyloos

In for the

Sport of it

the thrill of it

to report it

to say

I was there

I can gossip

My 15 minutes

To hurriedly

leave the scene.

of the accident

of the hit and run

Witnesses

Tell it

How it was

What happened

How it felt

How did it happen

Who was there

Who did what

When

Where

And why

Brave witnesses

Stay to report it

To testify

to stand up

To be counted

To call for help

To ad/minister assistance

The good Samaritan

Writing this poem made me see what Baz Luhrmann was doing. "It" leaps out from the poem. What is it that we are seeing? It means “getting it”.  

Do we get Shakespeare or are we lookyloos in for the sport of it?

Shakespeare and I: "Why Does Romeo Sometimes Get Such a Bad Rep"

(Douglas Booth; Photography by Bruce Weber)

I have to say, while respecting everyone's opinions and readings of the characters, I don't understand why Romeo gets such a bad reputation and comes off so badly in many people's analysis. (And I've heard many people express this view) The discussion of his age would certainly affect your impression of him...I know it would mine. So if there doesn't seem to be the same clear textual indication of Romeo's age as there is with Juliet's (and I certainly can't think of any), then depending upon if you think the two are roughly the same age or if Romeo is a few significant years older (or, if you're seeing the play, how the director has chosen to cast the two roles) would definitely affect how you feel about Romeo...and about Juliet, too.

I always thought of them as roughly the same age, myself. I didn't have any good reason to think that; it just seemed to be the popular idea about them that I inherited. Reading it more closely now, again, I don't see any concrete sign about Romeo's age. (All of the young men, it seems, are variously called "youth," "gentleman," "boy," etc., depending upon the circumstance and the attitude of the speaker, so I don't know how absolute those are in terms of age-markers.) I do note that in Shakespeare's source material "The Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Juliet," of Romeo the author writes that "Upon whose tender chyn, as yet, no manlyke beard there grewe." So if that was in Shakespeare's mind, perhaps that's how also thought of Romeo, but that we can never know.

Nonetheless, I still think Romeo is unfairly thought of as particularly impulsive or immature. I wonder if it isn't our desire to recognize Juliet's remarkable character that causes us unnecessarily to impugn Romeo's. Yes, Juliet shows remarkable courage and maturity in the play, and it's amazing to think of such thoughts and beautiful poetry coming from the incredible mind of a thirteen year old girl. But she also shows evidence of rashness and immaturity. She, after all, basically is the one to propose marriage to Romeo after one dances, two kisses, and some moonlit garden conversation! And this, after she'd just said in an earlier scene to her mother and the Nurse that she didn't want to get married, and wasn't even thinking about it. But we don't blame Juliet for being impulsive, and accuse her of jumping into marriage with the first good-looking boy who pays attention to her...and yet we accuse Romeo of fickleness and suppose he would've fallen in love with someone else the next week, just because he starts the play in love with Rosaline. Maybe that's true about him...but if it's true about him, it could just as well be true of her.

I wonder if a lot of our perception about Romeo doesn't come from the scene in Friar Lawrence's cell after the duel, where the Friar and the Nurse have to have some harsh words with Romeo to get him to stop crying and deal with the situation. I feel like a lot of people inevitably grow to share the adults' view of Romeo as being spineless and overly emotional. But, my word! The boy (or young man?) just watched a dear friend get murdered in front of his eyes and for which he was indirectly responsible, and then he himself in a rage murdered one of his new wife's dearest family members. The fact that Romeo is an emotional puddle just shows me that he's not a psychopath, thank goodness. He's actually really emotionally torn up by having just killed someone.

In fact, in my opinion, it's Romeo's concern with being a "man" in the way that Veronese society defines the term that precipitates the tragedy. The first couple of acts show us a Romeo who is willing to fall in love with the person of his choice, and willing to defy his family and their senseless feud to do so. After secretly marrying Juliet when Romeo meets the enraged Tybalt in the streets, he bravely and nobly tries to defuse the tension, enduring insults and the public risk to his reputation by refusing to fight, and then physically trying to stop the duel between Tybalt and Mercutio by putting own body between them. Only after his friend Mercutio is killed and he realizes that his physical intercession actually enabled the fatal blow to be struck does Romeo start to embrace all of those social views of what it means to be a "man" (“O sweet Juliet, / Thy beauty hath made me effeminate”) which, tragically here, means worrying more about his reputation than the feelings of his wife, and fighting back with a sword against the person who'd done him an injustice. As soon as he kills Tybalt, he realizes the folly of this thinking (“O, I am fortune's fool”). In other words, in my opinion, Romeo is more of a man when he's acting like an immature boy or coward, then when he acts in the way that Veronese (and our?) society expects "men" to act.

But more importantly, I wonder if it's just too a modern discomfort with large displays of emotion. And I think young men are unfairly penalized for that. Few people think King Lear is "whining" when he's on the heath and raging against the storm. And people may think Othello is stupid for being so "easily" duped by Iago, but few people think he's "whining" when he rages about his wife's supposed infidelities. And when it comes to Juliet, few people think she's "whining" when she quite often goes on about how impatient she is that things don't happen faster ("My nurse has been gone three hours, even though she said it'd be half an hour! Adults are so slow!" "Why is this day so long, when if it could just be night I'd be having sex with my new husband! Come on and get here, night!"); they often find her impatience charming. But a young man who expresses, with beautiful poetry, how much he loves this girl, how devastated he is to be separated from her, how he can't live without her...he's "whining."

Shakespeare, Dylan Thomas, and I: "The Rub of Death, the Rub of Love"

(A friend of mine sends me stuff. I don't know its origin. If anyone claims ownership, drop me an email and I'll post her or his name here)

I’ve been reading Dylan Thomas lately, and one of his poems is about being tickled by the rub of love.  The vocabulary of poetry is shared by poets across generations and cultures. Poets, in this case Shakespeare, revisit and reexamine their themes:  death and facing it.

My own contribution in the form of a poem that suddenly came to me when I was going home from work:

Bravery to end it all—one fell swoop

Courage to call it an end—hang man’s loop

Pain of slander, unkind words and cruel deeds

Death’s concoction’s bitter brew—hemlock weeds

Love reconciled happily domiciled

As they proceeded down the aisle they smiled

The ultimate coward who gave much pause

The newly-weds who believed in love’s cause

Hamlet’s dream of dreams by anguish distressed

Romeo and Juliet were by love blessed.

The rub of death makes cowards of us all

Love’s rub trumpets Heaven’s clarion call.

Rub: Predicament

Shakespeare and I: "Shakespeare's Bastardization"

(Kenneth Branagh directs Richard Madden and Lily James as Romeo and Juliet and Derek Jacobi as Mercutio)

Shakespeare is my fauvorite poet and, besides, I am an opera buff. That’s to say that Shakespeare in Opera seems to me an interesting topic.

I’ve always wondered why there was no mention how, in particular, Verdi wrestled quite successfully in "translating" Shakespeare to opera. Most modern film attempts have met with less than stellar popular success.  I also found his ideas rather intriguing as they do often "translate" in another area that fascinates me: namely, music.  My wife "hates" going to concert events or listening to recordings that deviate even in the slightest to studio recordings that she is mostly familiar with but I actually like improvisation so long as it doesn't get too carried away from the main theme.  Attempts to "update" Shakespeare can be seen as a -- forgive me--bastardization -- of his original concept but if that is what it takes to reach a mass audience--who am I to complain.  Well, of course I can "complain" if the production loses what I in my purely narcissistic sense think what the play's about and find the "interpretation" to have missed the boat... but thus far that has been rare.  I remember the last production of Othello I saw starring Ruy de Carvalho in 1998 at Teatro D. Maria II.  As we were leaving the theater I overheard a woman uttering in disgust to her companion," the producer of that mess should be shot" (said in Portuguese)...believe or not I resisted my inherent urge to "strangle her" ...then again, I guess it is what makes interpretation so much fun...as long as the general ideas don't get lost in the mix...

Others famous composers considered to write operas based on King Lear. Britten was one of them but abandoned the project. Re Lear (King Lear) is an operatic libretto written by Antonio Somma for Giuseppe Verdi. Although the Italian composer considered the project of Re Lear for many years, no music for the opera was ever composed. Instead, German composer Aribert Reimann wrote the opera Lear premiered at the National Theatre Munich on July 1978. And the English composer Alexander Goehr wrote “Promised End” based on Shakespeare’s King Lear and first performed by English Touring Opera in 2010.

What’s your favourite representation of a Shakespearean play?

Shakespeare and I: "Shakespeare's Language"

Oh boy, yes! The language is something like “I can't find the word or words. Dammit! Once and again!” In the beginning I spent all my time bogged down in footnotes, the textbook edition specified by my professor Vicky Hartnack (at the British Council in the 1980s) for being the 'best' edition to help with the language. It was as difficult to read as Chaucer. I might as well have read it in a foreign language I didn't know I had to look up each word. It was exhausting. I have enjoyed internet learning - I can read a synopsis for the sense of the play - go find a production online to view, use closed captions and hit rewind to re-watch and re-hear it.  Trying sometimes in lag-time to figure out what it could have been (brain knew, 'nope, that couldn't be right') and being a couple steps behind - exhausting in live lecture classrooms. I only wish I had had closed captions and rewind at that time.

English in Shakespeare's time, as I was taught, was a time of explosion in appreciation of English and the fun of words and double meanings - a craze for the language. If the language of Shakespeare has been so difficult for students I have always wondered how his own audiences were able to keep up with it - so fast, so full of meaning and wit. Did they appreciate the nuances as we (hope to) do today? He stands alone at the top of some mighty mount in the world of words for me, and has since I was 15. A complete works was the first book I ever bought to make my own when I was 16. I still have it - I'm in my 40s and he pops up in each decade of my life, it seems, to appreciate in different ways, and I was old for my age as a youngster but having experienced life events brings new ways to appreciate the lessons he teaches in a few terse words. Remarkable Poetry in prose. I have long said if I could only take two things if I were shipwrecked on an island, one is “The Complete Works of Shakespeare” and two - well, I can't remember the second, and I think it has varied over the years, but “The Complete Works" never has - today the second would be a lifetime of supply peanut M&Ms - assuming a supply of clean water 'comes' with the island! Sustains body and mind, chocolate with peanuts - and words to feed my mind. Eh! there ya go - It's life.

“Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Toward Phoebus' lodging. Such a wagoner

As Phaeton would whip you to the west

And bring in cloudy night immediately.

Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,

That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo

Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen.

Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

By their own beauties, or, if love be blind,

It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match

Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.

Hood my unmanned blood bating in my cheeks,

With thy black mantle, till strange love, grow bold,

Think true love acted simple modesty.

Come, night. Come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night,

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back.

Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,

Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Oh, I have bought the mansion of a love,

But not possessed it, and though I am sold,

Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day

As is the night before some festival

To an impatient child that hath new robes

And may not wear them.”

This is my favorite speech from R&J; full of rich imagery and vivid poetry - as Juliet awaits her new husband, she urges night to fall quickly.  She pleads for the sun to set as if it were "fiery-footed steeds" and name-checks Phoebus and Phaeton (solar deities) from Greek mythology.  She says that night is best for maidens to engage in love-making so to hide her blushing cheeks. She compares night variously to a close curtain, a sober-suited matron, a black mantle, a raven's back, and describes it as loving and black-browed. And in perhaps the most vivid image - she wants Romeo cut up into little stars after she is dead, so that the night will outshine the "garish sun".

Romeo is portrayed as new white snow, day in night, and blinding stars - overpowering imagery for a young girl - she can see nothing else but him.

All this is contrast to her own imagery as a purchased, but as yet uninhabited mansion, or an impatient child who has new robes bought for a festival, but is not allowed to wear them yet.  She is earthly, while he is heavenly.

Her language is lofty and highly poetic, reflecting her own heightened emotional state, indicative of her youth and inexperience with feelings of love.

"I learn in this letter…"

I have chosen those first words as they are the ones which speak the most to me. This line has a melodious quality and rhythm which please my ears, in the same way as “The Sea is calm tonight” from ‘Dover Beach’ by Arnold does. I still cannot figure out the reason for this, but there are (opening) lines that sound just perfect and have the power to create some melancholy feeling or extreme happiness in me [happiness ensuing from observing something beautiful/artistic gratification]. That is the case of this one. There is something in it, though I can’t say exactly what.

The other reason why these words have such an appeal to me is because I love letters. As a child, when we had no email yet, I used to like sending them, posting them at the post office and receiving them. So you can only imagine how I cherish the idea of trusting a messenger with a letter to, say, someone I love. As a teenager, I would write letters to imaginary friends, and I would keep these in a pretty box. It is quite possible that Shakespeare would have liked emails, text messages, blogs, Twitter, etc. if he had been given the choice. And indeed, for daily business, I do appreciate the efficiency of those tools too. However, as far as poetry is concerned, there is, once again, something incomparable about a letter endowed with a peculiar fragrance and displaying a light yellow colour due to the years.

I am totally aware that instead of writing on Shakespeare and on the play which these words introduce, I write only for myself. But this is the sort of response that reading Shakespeare triggers in me. He impels me, which is not at all the case with some other authors, to reflect on my own likes and dislikes and to have the courage to put into words some indistinct feelings that I was too lazy to analyse before.

The multiplicity of perspectives that Shakespeare inspires, among other reasons, is why his plays have been performed for centuries. And hopefully will continue to be performed.

Shakespeare and I: "Shakespeare's Fathers, Friars, Fiancées and Foundlings"

(A friend of mine sends me these beautiful pictures. I don't know their origin. If anyone claims ownership, drop me an email and I'll post her or his name here)

It is becoming ever clearer that the four of plays “Much Ado About Nothing”, “MSND”, “The Tempest” and “Romeo and Juliet” are somehow interconnected in many ways. They can all be said to comprise some combination of fathers, fiancées, friars or foundlings, if foundling is an appropriate word to describe both the changeling Indian baby in “Midsummer Night’s Dream” and Caliban in “The Tempest”. It was the best I could do to keep the alliteration going!

We all know about Lord Capulet and Egeus. In “Much Ado About Nothing” we have been presented with another strict father, Leonato. His strictness is not highlighted by his insistence on a choice of husband for Hero, since she is an overly compliant and reticent daughter compared to Juliet and Hermia. She offers no resistance whatsoever. Rather his strictness is illustrated in his unwillingness to believe that Hero is innocent of the accusation against her honor. This clearly associates him with that band of cold, harsh, disciplinarian fathers. Once Leonato is led to believe that Hero’s honor is besmirched, he does not question the truth of this but says she is “foul-tainted flesh” and believes death is the best thing for her. Prospero, in The Tempest, is somewhat controlling, too, manipulating Miranda and arbitrarily demanding that Ferdinand should move logs just because he has the power to wield and make demands. Well, I do not want to get ahead of next week’s discussion. But you can see a pattern.

So when fathers make life difficult for their daughters we need a friar to come to the rescue. Like Friar Laurence in “Romeo and Juliet”, Friar Francis comes to the aid of the distressed Hero in “Much Ado About Nothing”. The appearance of friars in these plays makes one wonder how much Shakespeare was at risk of being censored since the Catholic monasteries had been dissolved in Henry VIII’s reign and Franciscan monks were not politically in favor. Both friars play a similar role summed up by Friar Laurence, when he says, “Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied/And vice sometime by action dignified.” They both try by irregular and unorthodox methods to make good come of evil. They see innocence where others do not. The relative success they each have is determined by the genre of the play they each appear in.

Fiancées? Well they abound in all the plays: Romeo and Juliet, Hermia and Lysander, Helena and Demetrius, Hero and Claudio, Beatrice and Benedick and Miranda and Ferdinand. Everything eventually ends well for all the couples except Romeo and Juliet. Hopefully those who will enjoy a wedding will have experienced some life lessons.

Finally, we come to the foundlings. In “Midsummer Night’s Dream” the Indian changeling boy represents a domestic power struggle between Oberon and Titania. Caliban in “The Tempest” is often thought to be representative of native people in a land colonized by others. So he could be considered symbolic of a power struggle between indigenous people and invading colonizing forces. In any case, the presence of both these characters leads to many questions and much discussion.

Here is another interesting connection that I’ve just “discovered” just by thinking about the 4 plays: Shakespeare gave his contemporary audience an inside joke when he has Dogberry say, "O that I had been writ down an ass." The actor Will Kempe, who played Dogberry in “Much Ado About Nothing” had actually already "been writ down an ass" since it was he who played the role of Bottom in “Midsummer Night's Dream”. He literally spoke lines written for an ass in that play…

These are a few of my thoughts regarding the interconnectedness of four of Shakespeare’s plays I read in 2015. Do you see other connections and parallels? Please join the conversation if you wish to do so..

Shakespeare and I: "What do the Bard, The Police, and Emily Brönte have in common?"

One of the most hilarious factors about “A Midsummer Night's Dream” is the sheer chaos ensuing during and because of the 'Opening of the Eyes'.

I'd like to think that what I wrote below is Shakespeare's version of a jab at 'Love at First Sight.' Therefore, despite my believing the phenomenon, I've taken a satirical dig at it in the form of poetry:

The light is deafening,

The silence too bright.

Their gazes lead to the other;

And she thinks 'this might

Be it.' He was a veiled game,

And little did she know,

Like an ornate curtain,

He hid more than he showed.

And her mind was a labyrinth

Not many could navigate.

The entry was guarded,

But her eyes were the bait.

These disloyal gates

To a soul that's ever woken.

But how do you stop the flood

When the dam is already broken?

For there's more to it

Than his blue orbs, my love,

There's more to it than

Her fluttering lashes above.

For they may be gleaming

And they may hold her world;

But how can you tell her

That his soul's unfurled?

The truth behind his smile,

The reason to his love.

That this love won't leave her wounded

That it isn't bereft of

The truest affection

And truer care.

So you tell the truth and

Let Cupid show you how to dare.

This reminded me of the Police song, "Every Breath You Take." Sting has long said that the song is consistently misinterpreted (duh!) and is essentially about someone in the grips of jealousy and the need to control (a stalker). I think in some ways he feels badly for creating a monster which has taken on a romantic pop culture life divorced from the 'real' meaning of the song. He wrote the song "If you love someone set them free" in response to his own song. Is it blasphemous to wonder if Shakespeare didn't feel a bit of the same thing? He'd written a beautiful play, but one in which he thought his audience would recognize the beauty of young love AND all the levels of rash foolishness within it as well- and the audience just lapped up the love story (we don't know how it was initially received of course, but going on more modern reactions...) and then wrote “A Midsummer Night's Dream” to parody and highlight the aspects of the earlier play his audience had missed? Is "Every breath you take" the modern "Romeo and Juliet?"

Some of the comments I see about “A Midsummer Night's Dream” sometimes make me think some people are reading this play as if it were written by Emily Bronte in the middle of the nineteenth century.  I'm surprised Heathcliff hasn't shown up at the end of a noose in some of the scenes… 

I think there is more barbarism in eating man alive than to feed upon them being dead: "The Tempest" by William Shakespeare, Robert Langbaum

Published 1998.

On this re-reading I noticed that the word "brave" was used a few times in the movies that I watched (Taymor, 2010 & Jarman 1979).

I like this word. It generates a very good feeling in my heart. This word often makes me think of someone who has a quality to face something difficult with the strength of heart / mind / body... Does not take me much to feel a respect and admiration for this person...

I also come to know that the word "brave" describes something wonderful, admirable in appearance...

And I just got curious to see how often the word "brave" was used in "The Tempest". And I started reading the play to look for the word "brave" and "bravely", and every time I found one of these words, I put a post-it note to the page to keep track of it... No, I did not use any fancy software to sort out the words or count the words... The work was done manually... Though I tried to be as faithful and accurate as possible, there might be a few occasions that I missed finding these words... 

It looks like there are 11 occasions that the words "Brave" or "Bravely" were mentioned...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * 

BRAVE / BRAVELY

Act 1 Scene 2 Line 6 

Said by Miranda: 

A brave vessel

Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her 

Dashed all to pieces. 

Act 1 scene 2 line 206 (?)

Said by Prospero (to Ariel):

My brave spirit!

Act 1 scene 2 line 441

Said by Ferdinand (to Prospero)

And his brave sone being twain. 

Act 2 scene 1 line 171

Said by Gonzalo (to Alonso, Antonio & Sebastian)

You are gentlemen of brave mettle. 

Act 3 scene 2 line 11

Said by Trinculo (to Stephano)

Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. 

Act 3 scene 2 line 95

Said by Stephano (to Caliban, about Miranda)

Is it so brave a lass?

Act 3 scene 2 line 136

Said by Stephano (to Caliban and Trinculo)

This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing. 

Act 3 scene 3 line 85

Said by Prospero (to Ariel & himself)

(aside) Bravely, the figure of this harpy hast thou

Performed, my Ariel. 

Act 5 scene 1 line 185

Said by Miranda (to Prospero, Ferdinand and the people that she meet for the 1st time)

How berates mankind is! O brave new world,

That has such people in 't!

Act 5 scene 1 224 - 227 

Said by Boatswain

The next, our ship ---

Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split ---

Is tight and yare and bravely rigged as when 

We first put out to sea.

Act 5 scene 1 line 243

Said by Prospero (to Ariel)

Brave, my diligence. Thou shalt be free. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Maybe this is just a coincidence that the words "brave / bravely" were mentioned so very frequently. I think the recurrence of "brave" terms could reflect the theme of pushing through trying times and/or difficult circumstances presented by “The Tempest”.  Nothing in life is easy and sometimes striving for the best in life requires us to persevere through immense difficulty.  It takes bravery in order to undertake the arduous tasks set before us.  If we are cowardly and complacent, we won't reach our full potential or achieve successful outcomes. 

Maybe the characters reference bravery as a reminder of how important it is to be brave and face the harshness of the world.  Our very survival may depend on it.

Alonso & his entourage were on their way home from Tunis after Alonso's daughter, Claribel, got married to the King of Tunis when the ship was involved in the storm. I get this is slightly mixed up but they were heading back to Naples (not Milan, I think...), and the journey must have been very long. This long journey alone says something about the bravery of men on the ship.

A brave vessel

Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her

Dashed all to pieces.

Considering Miranda's inner beauty and sincerely of her mind, when she said the lines above, she was most worried about the safety of those inside the ship with a feeling of respect in her heart toward them. I don't think she intended any insult or sarcasm.

She did not even know much details of why she and Prospero were living in this island; she has not even met any other humans up to that point. There really is no reason for her, right that moment, to dislike Alonso & his people because she did not know what they've done to her & her father.

Brave people do not take the bravery of others for granted because they know first-hand how truly valuable this attitude and mindset is. I do not think they intend to use this word with a feeling of sarcasm.

I may be wrong, but I think that Shakespeare usually means "splendid" when he uses the word "brave." When Prospero says to Ariel, "My brave spirit!" he could mean 'courageous,' but he could just as well mean 'splendid'.  Often, in fact, the usage might be deliberately ambiguous on Shakespeare's part.  But it's not always ambiguous.  In the most famous usage, 'brave new world' (which 400 years later Aldous Huxley used as the title for his extremely influential dystopian novel), the word clearly means 'splendid.'  (Huxley was using the word ironically, but clearly Miranda wasn't.  Whether Shakespeare himself meant it ironically . . . well, that question is too big for the nonce.)

"The Tempest" is also full of shifting relationships involving power and servitude.  What lessons can we take from these examples?

Power is presented both as sovereignty over territory and mystical power to control.  As sovereignty, Antonio usurped power from Prospero before the play begins.  Sebastian attempts to kill and usurp the throne from his brother, Alonso. Stephano dreams of himself as a king of the island.  As mystical power, Prospero pulls strings and uses Ariel to manipulate the other characters.  For each of these, how is power used (or misused)?  I think the dual nature of power, as both a driving force for good and a corrupting force of evil, is presented.

Servitude, on the other hand, is presented both as faithfulness and as slavery.  As faithfulness, Gonzalo is an honest councilor to Alonso.  Ferdinand and Miranda use terms of bondage, servitude, and slavery to proclaim their love.  As slavery, obviously Caliban is enslaved by Prospero, but he also pledges himself to Stephano when he seeks a new master.  Ariel is held in forced service to Prospero as well and strung along by promises of freedom.  There are plenty of other examples, but I feel that the abuse of servants (as slaves) is a recurring theme in the play.  It makes me wonder if servitude could ever actually be positive.

I think it would be a mistake to overlook the power of the slave. If the slave refuses to work, the master is helpless. Prospero needs Caliban, tying him in cramps, etc., is not going to make him useful. I think they have an interdependent relationship.

Gonzalo is the faithful slave, how do we know that he is not simply and obsequious underling feathering his own nest, he seems to have a foot in the camp of Antonio as well as Prospero, How is it that he was not thrown out of the court with Prospero, I'm not sure that we can trust him.

Arial is different, I'm not convinced he can function without being attached to a human. I think he may be what is known as a "familiar" and will become part of the ethers until another human calls him. I suppose he could be called a slave. Like Caliban, Prospero can scare him with threats but he can't carry out the threats while he needs him to do her bidding. I think most are shifting, such as Caliban's changing of his master and Ariel's freedom in the end. Even Prospero's mystical powers seem to change when he abandons his books. Others may be more constant such as fealty to a sovereign, although the sovereign may change.

It suggests to me that when people seek and hold power over others there is always room for change, especially with regards to tyranny and injustice (or maybe that's just a very idealistic view).

I definitely see the connection to that potential commentary in “The Tempest”.  It speaks to one of the central themes of the play: power.  Prospero (potentially representing colonizing countries), wields the power over Caliban (representing the natives).

I might add that there are also instances of potential colonials creating brand new societies.  Gonzalo speaks of his idealistic society that he would create on the island if he were in power.  Stephano drunkenly claims dominion over the island and tries to act as a ruler.  These instances could be seen as the boundless opportunity that new colonists and explorers may have felt when colonizing a "new" location.  Even in this, there is exploitation of natives as Stephano accepts Caliban's servitude.

There are a lot of details in the text that make such a reading possible... whether this is what Shakespeare intended is largely conjecture, of course (and, at least to me, beside the point).   As I pointed out above, there is a certain co-dependence between Prospero and Caliban in the play -- and this would be a familiar pattern to those have studied colonialism.   Certainly Prospero has the upper hand in many ways-- but he would be in trouble without the service Caliban provides.  

I found myself wondering when I watched Julie Taymor's movie version: what becomes of Caliban after the others leave?  The stories of post-colonial states are not always happy ones...

I also subscribe to the notion that what Shakespeare is actually intended in is beside the point (although it can be interesting to discuss).  The importance lies in how we interpret these plays for ourselves and how those interpretations impact our views and our subsequent actions.

In this particular case, the co-dependency is a great point.  In the end, Prospero will leave and undoubtedly have other servants at home.  Caliban will be left to manage on his own on the island.  This may ultimately end up as a better situation for him, but I wouldn't expect it to be an easy transition, as you point out for post-colonial states.  He may need to go through a "tempest" of his own in order to reach the best possible outcome.

The interesting thing about all this is that Shakespeare was writing at a time when colonization was in its first exploitative infancy, when there would have been no real knowledge or experience of the psychology of dependency in the colonization process. But Shakespeare knows all about power relationships, continually confronts his audience with ambivalent portrayals of the outsider/underdog.

At the end of the play, we are left to assume that Prospero grants both Ariel and Caliban their freedoms. Maybe the European occupation has left him sadder and wiser, but Caliban still gets his island back - unpeopled with little Calibans, but his birthright restored, but even though Caliban gets his island back, he will never be restored to his old self.  He has had a form of education during the occupation.  That's a mixed bag.  He has learned language from Amanda.  He has learned subservience from Prospero.  He has seen something of the world beyond his shores.   In many ways it is easy to imagine he will be happier when they are gone.  But isolation presents its own challenges. 

He says at one point that the only advantage of having learned language is that he is able to curse.  But what happens when there is no one but yourself left to curse? 

In so many post-colonial situations we have seen indigenous factions rip one another the shreds.  It's common enough that we might call it one of the most predicable results of colonialism and its aftermath.  But in this imaginary landscape there is only one man left standing.  It's not hard for me to imagine Caliban insane and haunted, crawling in the mud and cursing his fate and those who left him to it. 

Shakespeare, like Molière (whose plays came some 50 years later) wrote for the common man, the "masses," if you will.  Both writers used their pen to vilify the ruling class under the guise of theatrical drama, romance and comedy.  Art reflects reality and truth.  Shakespeare, in “The Tempest”, dramatizes man's evil nature--the lust for power over others---all in the name of profit. 

Je mehr sich verändert, desto mehr bleibt sich gleich!  The more things change, the more they stay the same....slave ships from Africa to the Orient during Shakespeare's time....slave ships from Africa to the Americas a hundred years later....slavery in the American South (Cotton is King!).... indentured "slaves" in England during the Industrial Revolution (the cotton mills)...indentured slaves in China (Apple)...indentured slaves today in the US Midwest (the slaughter houses)....indentured slaves now in the Central Valley of California (agribusiness).  When will we ever learn?

My own attempt at creating a pyramid of the story:

PROSPERO

name of the main personality

INTENSE        FOCUSSED

two words that describe this personality

TURBULENT    DANGEROUS   FRIGHTENING

three words that describe the scene or location

FERDINAND AND MIRANDA CONNECT.

four words that describe one event

CALIBAN BOWS DOWN TO STEFANO.

five words that describe another event

PROSPERO ASSURES FERDINAND AND ACCEPTS REST.

six words that describe a third event

THE HUMAN CONDITION IS TURBULENT AND EXHAUSTING.

seven words that described a problem or difficulty

PROSPERO RELINQUISHES CONTROL, PARDONS ALL, AND ACCEPTS REST.

eight words that describe the outcome of the story

NB: And so ends my first reading batch of 5 of Shakespeare’s plays: “Hamlet”, “Romeo and Juliet”, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, “Much Ado about Nothing” and “The Tempest”. Reading the plays in such quick succession like this I saw more clearly the cross-over in the different plays.  Love being a popular common theme isn't surprising, but I really want to know how many friars were convincing young women to fake their own deaths back then.  And if you don't have to fake your own death there's probably a fairy or some sort of trickery at play in this match making.  Watch out for the plotting villainous brothers.  And surely there is a Duke or Prince nearby for some words of wisdom or to smooth everything over. Shakespeare was a master at just picking elements from a hat and building a scene around them:  Villainous brother, fairies, ship wreck - and go!  He weaves the elements together brilliantly and each play has its own breath and uniqueness.  I'm captivated by different elements in each.  And yet each one I read I was spotting something familiar from the one I had read just before.  That's probably part of their charm.

It certainly is much easier to see links when you are in a pressure cooker of reading. By the end of the year, I intend to have read all of the plays, preferably in an 8 week period, and reading them in chronological order of composition. For that I’ll re-read this batch again along with the other 33 plays + The Sonnets (using my Rowse). I’m expecting to “see” a LOT doing THAT!

NB2: William Strachey: from “True Repertory of the Wrack”, 1610 (description of the tempest) – the reason why chose this edition to read.

Other “reasons”:

Michel de Montaigne: “Of the Cannibals”, 1603, translated by John Florio. “I think there is more barbarism in eating man alive than to feed upon them being dead.”

Ovid: “Metamorphoses”, Medea’s speech, 1567, translated by Arthur Golding; Prospero’s farewell to his art.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge: “Shakespearean Criticism” from “The Lectures of 1811-1812, Lecture IX”.