Sunday, 22 July 2012

Hamlet in Oxford (Field Trip 19/7/12)

I’m glad we saved the best for last! I loved seeing Hamlet at Oxford University. I didn’t know what to expect because Stratford-upon-avon was the only other British city outside London I had visited. Though Stratford was worth a visit because of its Shakespearean connection, it was not remarkably scenic. Oxford, on the other hand, was absolutely gorgeous. The university buildings were very regal and I was excited to see architecture that I recognized from the Harry Potter movies. Below is a photo I took of the beautiful Bodleian Library ceiling, which was reminiscent of the type of architecture used to depict Hogwarts in the Harry Potter movies (I apologize for its poor quality - I wasn't given time to pause for pictures):


Before we went to the showing of Hamlet, my friends and I stopped at two historically significant pubs. We each got a pint at The Eagle and Child first. The Eagle and Child is famous because the Inklings met there in the early 20th century. The Inklings was an Oxford writers’ group that included C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolkein. The pub has existed since the 17th century. Even more amazing was the endurance of the second pub we visited, The Turf Tavern. It was well hidden by the surrounding buildings and had to be accessed through narrow alleyways. It dates all the way from the 13th century! The front room had a very low beamed ceiling that dates from the 17th century. It is now known as a “gastro-pub,” which means that it’s a pub that serves gourmet fare. I ordered a delicious duck and hoisin wrap with chips.

We attended a pre-show lecture by an Oxford professor. It was helpful to place this production of Hamlet within the context of the multitude of Hamlet productions throughout history. I found it interesting that the characters can be portrayed in so many different ways and that the play can be tweaked to resemble more of a farce or more of a tragedy. The play was held in the open-air Bodleian Quad within the Bodleian Library. The play was done in a traditional fashion to mimic the touring production of 17th century England. I really enjoyed the addition of an opening song and dance as well as a closing song and dance. All of the players were able to sing, dance, and act, which was refreshing. At one point, Hamlet made a reference to The Turf Tavern, which was a humorous addition that spoke to the incredible age of my dinner spot. The set was small but the seats were limited so that all had a good view of the stage. Below is a photo of the rustic set:

I felt that this production was more of a farce than a tragedy. The intense emotions and personalities of the characters were comically exaggerated. But while the humor was emphasized, the most dramatic moments remained grave in earnest. The confrontation between Hamlet and his mother, Gertrude, was especially moving. I thought she was the best actor because of how well she portrayed Gertrude’s growing guilt and anguish throughout the play.  Each of the actors, with the exception of Hamlet, played more than one character throughout the play and also served as the stagehands. It made me wonder if that’s how it would have been done in Shakespeare’s day. Some of the changes to the original style of production included the female actors and the wardrobe, which seemed like a mixture of different period styles. The worst part about the production was being subjected to the intensifying chill in the air as the night wore on. Still, I felt very blessed to be able to attend a play in the Bodleian Quad. The production was a huge contrast to the extravagant, modernized production of The Tempest in Stratford. I liked being able to see a play done in a similar fashion to what audience of Shakespeare’s time would have experienced. 

Hamlet (Lecture 18/7/12)

Because this is my last blog about a lecture, I would like to make connections between Hamlet and several of the other plays we’ve read. I’m going to outline some of the themes common to many of his plays as well as the characters that crop up over and over again in different forms and pretexts. As I organized these parallels, I realized that the major themes of Shakespeare’s plays tend to accompany similar types of characters that convey that theme. These characters from different plays respond in a specific way to challenges in order to communicate Shakespeare’s interpretation of the theme.
Hamlet, Richard II, and Macbeth all depict persons in positions of leadership who behave in similar ways. Within the theme of the nature of power and monarchy, King Claudius, Richard II, and Macbeth all exhibit certain characteristics when they are in positions of power. The parallels amongst these characters reveal the ability of power to change the person that holds it. All of these men commit murder in order to ensure their hold on the throne. Claudius kills his brother, King Hamlet, so that he can claim the throne. King Richard II orders the murder of his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, because he perceives him to be a threat to the throne. Macbeth kills King Duncan in order to claim the throne. Once he becomes the king, he orders the murders of his former best friend, Banquo, his best friend’s son, Fleance, Macduff’s wife, Lady Macduff, and even Macduff’s young son all in order to eliminate threats to his power. The similar behavior of these kings conveys the idea that power causes its beholder to ignore their moral compass. The fleeting nature of power as it moves from one ambitious person to another renders its beholder desperate to maintain it. These kings’ desperation to keep their power changes their better nature. Shakespeare’s parallel portrayal of the kings warns against the dangers of ambition.
            All of Shakespeare’s play deal with the idea of identity in some form of fashion. In plays such as A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Taming of Shrew, Shakespeare addresses one’s ability to transcend social and cultural boundaries by manipulating one’s identity, as I discussed in previous blogs. In Hamlet and The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare approaches the factors that constitute our identities and the source or foundations of our identities. In Hamlet, the fluctuation of identities reflects the fact that the state (Denmark) is in flux. The death of King Hamlet and the wedding of the newly instated King Claudius to King’s Hamlet’s widow, Gertrude, have just taken place within the last few months. The threat of invasion from Norway also adds to the unrest of the state.
The theme of fluctuating identities is established within the first act, in which the watchmen edgily question the identity of one another before they allow each other to come closer. When Horatio enters the scene, Barnardo asks, “Say – what, is Horatio there?” to which Horatio responds shrewdly, “A piece of him” (1.116-17). Horatio’s comment has several implications. He means that only a piece of him is there because he is so cold. It could reflect the coldness of his body or the metaphorical coldness of his emotions in response to the disordered state of his home nation. The division of his identity into pieces reflects the prevailing theme of fracturing identities in Hamlet. Hamlet’s conversation with Ophelia in Act III, scene i is another significant moment in which Shakespeare questions the rigidity of identity. When Ophelia tries to return the gifts that Hamlet gave her, he tells her, “No, no, I never gave you aught” (3.1.98). He undoubtedly did give her gifts, which prompts me to question why he decides to deny this fact. I think his statement reflects that his identity has shifted. He never gave those gifts to Ophelia because he has changed so much that he believes that he has acquired a new identity.
The events that alter Hamlet’s sense of identity show which factors constitute the foundations of identity. After Hamlet’s father dies, his brother harshly and quickly replaces him with the consent of Hamlet’s mother. Additionally, Hamlet struggles with his desire to commit suicide and murder. These events that lead to a broken identity are paralleled by the destruction of Shylock’s identity in The Merchant of Venice. After Shylock loses his daughter, his livelihood, and his religion, his unusually quiet and solemn bearing reflects the damage done to his sense of identity. As with Shylock in The Merchant of Venice, the damage to Hamlet’s sense of family/home and faith/religion render his identity unstable.

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Macbeth (Lecture 16/7/12)

Pre-Lecture Musings:

The violence of Macbeth surprised me. Out of the Shakespeare plays that I have read, it is by far the most violent. Many of Shakespeare’s plays depict murders, but the murders in Macbeth were especially sinister in nature. The first murder sets the tone for the play’s exploration of brutal, senseless, and grisly violence in several ways. The scene in which Macbeth brutally murders King Duncan is terrifying and gruesome. It is terrifying because it is done while the king is sleeping and is defenseless. I was most disturbed by the gruesome image of Macbeth covered in King Duncan’s blood and by my visualization of him smearing the blood on the clothes of the scapegoats behind the scenes. Also because King Duncan is such a goodhearted and likable character, his murder weighs heavily on our sympathies. Macbeth and his wife plot to kill him because they are ruled by their ambition and their greed. King Duncan does nothing to deserve his death. The tragedy of his death derives from the distressing knowledge that he dies because of their vices.
The second moment of disturbing violence occurs when Macbeth orders the death of his former close friend, Banquo. Though this death is not especially gruesome, it is disturbing because Macbeth has now indirectly killed a close friend. The ease with which he betrays his innocent friend, merely to ensure his kingship, reveals how savage, brutal, and ruthless Macbeth has become.
The murder of Macduff’s wife and child was the third death that upset my stomach. Macbeth orders these murders so that he can capture Macduff’s stronghold, thus reducing Macduff’s power and presence in Scotland as well as decreasing the likelihood that he seizes the throne from him. It disturbed me to imagine that any person could demand or perform the brutal stabbing of an innocent young boy to death for the sole purpose of taking a preventative measure to protect ones power.

Post-Lecture Impressions:

            After our lecture in class, I started to understand why the violence in Macbeth is so much more brutal and prevalent than in Shakespeare’s other tragedies and plays of political upheaval such as Richard II and Julius Caesar. It seems to me that the supernatural element of Macbeth gives it an especially sinister mood. By attempting to fulfill the witches’ prophecy, Macbeth gives it credibility and makes himself vulnerable to the wildness and unpredictability of the supernatural realm. Whereas Richard II’s malice is purely a product of his own flawed nature, Macbeth’s descent into evil is brought about by his alignment with the supernatural realm. Sixteenth century Christian beliefs underlie the portrayal of the supernatural as necessarily dangerous and evil. This quality of the play reminds me of another play that I once read for my Renaissance Literature class, Doctor Faustus. Though it came later than Macbeth, Doctor Faustus portrays the supernatural in a similar fashion. Like Macbeth, Doctor Faustus sensationalizes and romanticizes demonology and the supernatural even though it denounces it. Doctor Faustus’ tragic fate comes about because he collaborates with devils in order to gain power much as Macbeth liaises with the witches in order to gain power. Macbeth and Lady Macbeth’s catastrophic downfall is a warning against the perils of the supernatural. Their fate also warns against the destructive nature of ambition. Before Macbeth decides to follow the ill-fated, homicidal path to power that the witches have devised, he shows his morality and rationality by weighing the benefits and disadvantages of the plan. In fact, before Lady Macbeth persuades him to proceed with the plan, Macbeth expresses great reluctance: “I have no spur/To prick the sides of my intent, but only/Vaulting ambition which o’erleaps itself/And falls on th’other” (1.7.25-28). Macbeth realizes that his only reason for murdering King Duncan is the strength of his ambition, which he cannot rationalize as a sufficient cause. He does not decide to act on it until Lady Macbeth persuades him.
            My first impression of Lady Macbeth was that she was senselessly unjustifiably cruel and callous. Once she learns of the prophecy that her husband will take the throne, she vows to set aside the good side of her nature in order to ensure her husband’s success. During our lecture, I learned that her intentions might have been motivated by more than simple ambition and callousness. In her attempt to motivate Macbeth to murder King Duncan, she says viciously, “I have given suck, and know/How tender ‘tis to love the babe that milk me./I would, while it was smiling in my face,/Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums/And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn/As you have done to this” (1.7.54-59). I had previously viewed this as further evidence of her inherent malice until Dr. McNamara pointed out the implications of this violent imagery. Evidently, she has had a son in the past that no longer exists. Most likely, he has died at some point in his early childhood. Lady Macbeth’s reference to this child in such an unusual context suggests that his death may have played some part in her ruthless pursuance of King Duncan’s murder. The exact impact of this past experience on her attitude is impossible to determine. She could be trying to channel her grief and pain into anger and violence. At the same time, she could be making an effort to rid herself of the weight of her grief by forcing herself to act as though she is callous and merciless.  Regardless of the reason for its origin, her nasty disposition changes after her husband’s plan succeeds. Gradually, she descends into incoherent madness. This transformation makes it extremely unlikely that she was as callous as she seemed at the start of the play. The evils she and her husband committed begin to haunt her and destroy her sanity, which indicates that her outward cruelty masked her genuine nature, whatever that may have been.

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Stratford-upon-Avon (Day Trip 14/7/12)


I spent my Saturday in Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare’s hometown. I was there from 9 AM until 7 PM. I visited Shakespeare’s childhood home first. Pictures were not allowed inside the home, but this photo of the exterior shows the style and design of the house:


The First Folio was one of the coolest things at the site. It was on display before we entered the house. The item originates from the first printing of the text in 1623. Without this text, the massive influence of Shakespeare’s plays would be absent from our culture.

The house was decorated with genuine 16th century items to resemble a typical 16th century Stratford-upon-Avon home. I found it fascinating that the wallpaper was made from cloth and animal fat – it was quite beautiful! In the bedchambers, a guide crafted a detailed picture of Shakespeare’s life in that room by telling us about the experience of English boys in his time.  Shakespeare would have slept in the bed with his parents in infancy. He would move into a crib until he could walk. Then, he would have slept on a trundle bed beneath his parent’s bed until he could pass the candle test. If he could carry a candle without dropping it from his parent’s room into the next bedroom then he could sleep in his own room.

I signed the guestbook at the end of the tour. The past guestbooks have added value to visiting Shakespeare’s birthplace because of those who have signed it. Many famous writers, such as Charles Dickens, have visited the house. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson visited the house in 1786. Queen Elizabeth II has visited the house twice.

In the garden outside the home, actors in 16th century garb were taking requests like DJs at parties. You would suggest a Shakespeare play and they would choose a scene from the play to perform. They were brilliant! They acted as Caliban, Macbeth, and Lady Macbeth. Then they performed a medley of scenes from The Taming of the Shrew. I thought it was interesting that the actress playing Kate performed her as a genuine and pious wife in her lengthy speech at the end of the play. Most of us in class thought of the speech as sarcastic, so it was interesting to see a different take on the character. Below, Petruccio carries Kate off in the comical wit-filled wooing scene:


At 1:15 PM, I saw a performance of The Tempest at the Royal Shakespeare Company. They followed the original script and only added or omitted small details. The costume and set, however, was modern and added a new dimension to the play. For example, Prospero and Ariel were both bald, similar complexion, and wore the exact same suit. I think this was done to imply that Ariel is in many ways an extension of Prospero. Ariel not only does everything that Prospero commands but also does things that Prospero does not command but would have desired to be done. They are very in tune; Ariel knows Prospero well enough that he can predict the commands that Prospero would have given him. The outfitting of these two characters allowed me to make that connection. It was also interesting that this interpretation of the play would sometimes disregard distinctions of race, gender, and age. Miranda and Prospero were not very far apart in age, if at all. In this case, I think this was more a factor of choosing the best actors for the roles because despite her apparent age, she was dressed to look young and wore clothes a teenager would wear. Sebastian was an attractive middle-aged woman in a hot pink dress and high heels. I liked this alteration to the play because it created an interesting Bonnie and Clyde-type dynamic between Sebastian and Antonio. And though this seems arbitrary, I think she was also used to add visual interest to the stage. She provided a pop of color in the scenes that would have otherwise been a group of men in suits. Casting Ferdinand as black and his father as white abolished our established expectations for racial boundaries. I think this was done to point out to the viewer how we label, define, and categorize people by their race. Their bold move made a statement about the arbitrariness of defining people by the color of their skin.

After the play, Anne Marie, Leslie, Annastasshia, Trinity, and I walked over to church where Shakespeare was buried. On the way, we walked through a park where we saw a group of young people (probably students) performing A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I thought that was cool because it really reinforced the feeling of being in Shakespeare’s town, where everyone knows who he is and thinks he is awesome! Here they are performing the last scene of the play. In this photo, Pyramus has just discovered (or so he thinks) that Thisbe is dead:


Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-Avon was a bonus feature because I had no idea it would be so beautiful. It was a stone edifice with massive stained glass windows along the walls and high vaulted ceilings. Shakespeare is buried alongside his wife, Anne Hathaway, beneath the stone flooring near the altar. Here is a picture of his grave:


The church placed banners along the nave of the church that gave information about Shakespeare’s life and his religiousness. Shakespeare was baptized at Holy Trinity Church a few days after his birth. It was pretty cool that I got to see where Shakespeare came into the world and where he left it within the same day.

After we left the church, we walked around Stratford-upon-Avon and got dinner. I was surprised by how small a town it really was. By approximately six o’clock in the evening, almost every store was closed. This visit made me realize that London is as expensive as it is because it is a metropolis and not just because of the brutal exchange rate. I got a soda, burger, and chips for four pounds, which is only about six dollars in the US. That’s a good deal anywhere!

Greenwich Field Trip (12/7/12)

16th Century Greenwich:

In Shakespeare’s time, Greenwich was one of the principle residences of Queen Elizabeth I. Greenwich was home to the Palace of Placentia, Elizabeth’s birthplace and her favorite summer residence. This palace was demolished in the seventeenth century. Greenwich Hospital was built on its site and is now the site of The Old Royal Naval College. Greenwich was also a center of maritime activity. Its placement on the Thames meant that naval defense was necessarily located there to protect London from attacks by river. Many navy ships were being built here so that the naval presence became increasingly intimidating to potential enemies. Allegedly, Shakespeare rehearsed many of his plays in this area.

My Experience:

It was a gorgeous sunny day for exploring the delights of the Royal Borough of Greenwich. With my class, I visited the special exhibit “Royal River: Power, Pageantry, and the Thames” at the National Maritime Museum. The picture below shows Laura, Kelsey, me, and Sarah outside the museum:


I liked that the artifacts were arranged chronologically and were sectioned off into the century of their origin. There were several beautiful items from Shakespeare’s England, such as those that honored Queen Elizabeth I. Many of the items hailed from royal events with processions on the river, such as the Lord Mayor’s procession, coronations, funerals, and royal receptions.  In Shakespeare’s time, the newly elected Lord Mayor and several large and elaborate livery company barges would have preceded down the Thames River every year. The first item of interest at the start of the exhibit depicted this scene of the Thames on Lord Mayor’s Day in the eighteenth century. In this painting, richly colored and luxuriously decorated barges serenely pass the city of London. This artwork reveals the prosperity of the livery companies. Tudor history fascinates me, so Anne Boelyn’s items were of special interest to me. Her prayer book was vividly colorful and exquisitely decorated. I also thought the display concerning ‘the Great Stink’ was interesting and humorous. Some of the paintings from the time showed well-dressed men and women holding their nose in disgust.

My friends and I walked over to the petite Greenwich market to explore its goods and purchase a cheap lunch. Though the market was small, it had quite a lot of unique vintage and antique items for sale. I was tempted to buy some cat-eye 1950s eyeglasses. There were stands for different cultural foods. I passed Ethiopian, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Indian, and vegan food stands.

After I ate some delicious Japanese food, Anne Marie, Leslie, Rob, and I returned to the National Maritime Museum for further exploration. We visited the Traders: the East India Company and Asia exhibit. We choose this exhibit because we thought it would have some relevancy to Shakespeare because of the East India Company’s rich history during his lifetime. Queen Elizabeth I gave the East India Company its royal charter in 1600, at which point it was officially known as Governor and Company of Merchants of London Trading into the East Indies. This charter granted the merchants a monopoly on all English trade east of the Cape of Good Hope. It was formed to send ships to Indonesia and India to buy pepper and other spices to sell on the London market. At the exhibit, there were samples of each of the different kinds of spices that they traded. The spices were displayed so that you could smell them and discover what they were used for in that time period. Clove, for example, was used for toothaches. There were also samples of the different types of cloth that were traded in later periods of history. We were able to feel the difference in texture between silk, muslin, and linen. The interactive nature of this exhibit made it a lot of more fun and helped me to remember what I learned. 

Richard II (11/7/12)

I really liked this olfactory imagery so I recorded it in my notes:
“As Bolingbroke returns to overthrow King Richard, we can imagine the smell of sweaty horses and leather.” –Dr. McNamara

Richard II is very different from any other Shakespeare play I’ve ever read in three major ways. 1. With all the different names used for the people of the court, it’s very easy to get confused. 2. Women played the smallest role I’ve seen yet in a play. I think that may be because it is a history play and the major players from this time period were men. 3. I knew it was a highly lyrical play, but the long speeches and monologues were so beautifully written and complexly patterned that I sometimes forgot that I was reading a play. It often felt more like poetry than storyline, which I really enjoyed.

I’d like to do a few unconventional things with this convoluted text so that I can maximize my understanding of it. First, I am going to untangle the bewildering names, roles, and relationships of the most important characters.

--King Richard II is married to Queen Isabella.
--Richard is behind the assassination of his uncle, Thomas of Woodstock/Duke of Gloucester, who is survived by his wife the Duchess of Gloucester.
--Richard’s uncle and the Duke of Gloucester’s older brother, John of Gaunt/Duke of Lancaster, dies during the play. His son is Harry Bolingbroke/Duke of Hereford, who becomes King Henry IV when he takes the throne from King Richard, who is his cousin.
--The Duke of York is also a brother of the late Duke of Gloucester and John of Gaunt, which means that he is the third uncle of Richard in the play. His wife is the Duchess of York and their son is the Duke of Aumerle/Aumerle.
--Thomas Mowbray/Duke of Norfolk is a nobleman who Richard banishes early in the play.
--Percy/Earl of Northumberland seems to be Bolingbroke’s right hand man. His son is young Harry Percy.

That clarifies things! Secondly, I’d like to address some of the comments made by my peers in our discussion. I don’t always get a chance to evaluate or respond to their comments so I’d like to give my input on their insights.

Laura made the comment that King Richard seems to fear John of Gaunt.
--I agree with Laura. King Richard probably fears all of his uncles to some extent because of they have a blood tie to the throne and more age and experience than he does. The textual evidence for this is subtle. Richard’s actions support her argument more than his words. After John of Gaunt dies, Richard seizes the lands and inheritance that should have gone to Gaunt’s son, Bolingbroke. This action shows that Richard holds no real respect for his uncle; however, while Gaunt was alive, he shortened Bolingbroke’s sentence from ten to six years to pacify him. Since he clearly didn’t make this change out of respect, it follows that he likely did it out of an underlying fear or concern of Gaunt’s retribution.

Leslie explored Shakespeare’s depiction of the title characters of Richard II of The Tragedy of Richard the Second, and Julius Caesar of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar. Though both rulers are betrayed, Richard II does not display his sorrow in a way that produces a pivotal moment of tension and anguish like Julius Caesar’s last words to Brutus, “Et tu, Brute?” (3.1.76). In class, we acknowledged the truth of her statement but did not explore why this difference exists. Richard II acknowledges that he is partially responsible for his tragic fate: “O God, O God, that e’er this tongue of mine,/That laid the sentence of dread banishment/On yon proud man, should take it off again”  (3.3.132-134). A gradual swelling of tension precedes Richard II’s deposition rather than the shocking abruptness of Julius Caesar’s assassination. Though Shakespeare does not give Richard II the “Et tu, Brute?” moment, he does give Richard II ample time to explore his fate in gorgeous lyrical dialogue. The difference between the two men’s lines shows that Richard II’s fall from grace is complicated by the remorse he expresses for his past misdeeds.

Trey introduced what he termed the “cynical approach” to the Bishop of Carlisle. During Act Four Scene One, the bishop expels a passionate denunciation of Bolingbroke’s ascension to the throne and overthrow of King Richard II. Trey commented that the bishop’s intentions were probably selfishly motivated. Before his comment, I had assumed that the bishop defends divine right in this scene because of his devout belief in the role of God in the British monarchy. Trey’s comment is quite shrewd. In fact, I think it makes more sense that the bishop would be vocal here because he is concerned about the lessening of his own power in the court rather than simply sticking up for the holiness of the monarchy. Ample textual evidence supports the bishop’s ulterior motives. The tone of the bishop’s address seems too heated and furious for a holy man. He begins the speech with the informal curse, “Marry, God forbid!” (4.1.105). Before his furious prophecy/curse, he uses God to give his words authority. He refers to God five times in the first twenty lines of his address. By doing this, the clever bishop creates the impression that godliness is his utmost concern. Beneath this pretension, however, is a furious contempt for the usurpers that goes beyond mere religious concerns. He makes the vile prophecy that “the blood of English shall manure the ground” and that “disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny/Shall here inhabit” (4.1.128-134). These bitter words are too strong to convey only his concern for the practice of divine right. The bishop’s bitterness derives from his knowledge that he will have less sway beneath the pragmatic leadership of Bolingbroke. For me, Northumberland’s response further confirms the bishop’s duplicitousness. He immediately disregards the lengthy discourse and calmly orders the bishop’s arrest. He realizes the bishop’s sees beyond the bishop’s guise and realizes that the bishop is concerned with his own access to power.

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

The Tempest (Lecture 9/7/12)

JUSTICE

The nature of justice is one of the most prominent themes of The Tempest. Shakespeare uses various characters and miniature plots to explore the complications of achieving justice as well as the definition and limits on just action. The main objective of the protagonist, Prospero, is to achieve justice by correcting the injustice done to him by his brother, Antonio. Antonio collaborated with other lords to overthrow Prospero, the reigning Duke of Milan. Prospero and his daughter Miranda are then banished and end up on a deserted island. Prospero seeks justice by taking back his title from Antonio, which constitutes the main plot of the play.
            Prospero’s acquisition of power from his usurping brother represents the ideal enactment of justice. Most importantly, he is the rightful Duke of Milan. While he later usurps power from others, in this situation, he is the victim of injustice. In Act One Scene Two, he explains to Miranda that he trusted his brother to help his manage his affairs while he focused on his secret studies. Antonio took advantage of Prospero’s distraction to change the allegiance of his subjects and ultimately usurp his power. Here, Prospero admits to the mistake he has made in allowing himself to be consumed by his study of magic. Following his return to power, he accounts for his previous error by abandoning the practice of magic (Epilogue). In the meantime, however, he relies on magic and his fairy slave, Ariel, to ensure the return of his dukedom. His carefully executed plan allows his just and right return to power yet it is not tainted by vengeful motives. Instead, Prospero forgives his brother. In most cases of betrayal, the betrayer would be punished rather than simply admonished. Herein lies the righteousness of Prospero as he seeks simple justice in restoring himself to his rightful dukedom. Justice as it is characterized in The Tempest is accompanied by forgiveness rather than revenge. Prospero briefly addresses Antonio: “most wicked sir, whom to call brother/Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive/Thy rankest fault, all of them, and require/My dukedom of thee” (132-135). Through Prospero, Shakespeare characterizes the ideal of justice as the restoration of righteousness and the forgiveness of the wrongdoers.
            There are several other examinations of justice in The Tempest that do not conclude quite so satisfactorily as that of Prospero and Antonio’s tale. While Prospero’s restoration to the title of Duke of Milan is right and just, his practice of these same principles on the island is hypocritical and skewed. Prospero enslaves Ariel and Caliban against their will, which is certainly not fair or just from their perspectives. Caliban’s relationship with Prospero is complex. Originally, Prospero was nurturing and kind to Caliban, and Caliban returned affection by introducing him to the island. Caliban uses this history to direct Prospero’s attention to the injustice being done to him. Prospero then tells us that he stopped treating Caliban as a son because Caliban attempted to rape his daughter, Miranda. Here, the discussion of justice is highly subjective; the distribution of justice depends upon choosing to trust either Caliban or Prospero’s version of events. Though it doesn’t seem right that Prospero enslaves Caliban, the rightful and original inhabitant of the island, it is also understandable that Prospero would treat Caliban differently once he has endangered his daughter. Caliban desperately desires justice and the return of his rights on the island.  He is easily pulled in by the fantasy plotting of Alonso’s servants Stefano and Trinculo. Stefano gives him alcohol, the effect of which makes Caliban believe that Stefano is a celestial god. Caliban subsequently vows: "I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly" (2.2.116-117). Drunk and wooed by the idea of finally gaining power, Caliban helps Stefano plot to overthrow Prospero and rule the island. Ultimately, they are foolish in their scheme and distracted by Prospero’s set up of beautiful royal garments. Prospero sets spirits upon them, but announces that he will have mercy for the plotters. Whether or not it would have been a just action to kill Prospero, his oppressive master, is a philosophical and subjective question that I cannot answer without personal bias. However, Caliban ultimately achieves his purpose in the end as he is left on the island to do what he will. In this play of power between man and monster, justice is in the eye of the beholder.
Prospero’s enslavement of Ariel, however, is more clear-cut in that it is definitively skewed to Prospero’s idea of justice. Prospero rescues Ariel from imprisonment by the witch Sycorax, which he uses to justify Ariel’s enslavement. This concept of justice is definitely questionable because Prospero acts as the ultimate judge of power and control. Prospero capitalizes on the misfortune of the airy spirit. Despite the uncomfortable fact of the spirit’s enslavement, Prospero and Ariel have a relatively equitable and friendly relationship. While Prospero is disgusted by Caliban's monstrousness and views him as a lesser being, he shows a respect and appreciation for Ariel. He often compliments and thanks Ariel for his assistance and promises his freedom, which he finally awards him once he has completed his own quest for justice. I think Prospero knows that he is taking advantage of Ariel unjustly but he sees it as a necessary means to the end of retrieving his dukedom. While justice on the island is highly subjective to Prospero’s perspective, Prospero's mercy and departure from magic promises that justice will be rightfully restored in the real political world of Naples and Milan at the end of the play.