The Tempest 969Prospero and Miranda value words, whether they
be written or spoken, and Caliban values his life
and island, and wishes only that he “had peopled
. . . This isle with Calibans” (1.2.350–351). Near
the end of the play, Miranda refers to the appear-
ance of the shipwrecked men with the famous line,
“O, brave new world, / That has such people in
’t!” (5.1.183–184). Her statement is deeply ironic
because, of course, she means to say that the oth-
ers like her are marvelous, and thus create a “new
world.” In reality, the New World consists of those
far more like Caliban than the men who landed
on the island; her wonder stems from her learned
response to racial others, which is to respond with
revulsion and superiority.
Christina Angel
StaGeS oF LIFe in The Tempest
The Tempest represents Shakespeare’s later work and
as such serves a purpose in a discussion of life stages,
particularly with regard to ongoing metaphors of the
stage as life across the oeuvre of his plays. Genera-
tional difference is clearly visible in the relationship
between Prospero and his daughter, and as well
between Gonzalo and the younger Sebastian and
Antonio. Over his time spent exiled on the island,
Prospero has grown pessimistic, even cynical, in his
view of humankind and the world, as evidenced in
his automatic assumptions about Caliban as a mon-
ster, calling him “poisonous slave, got by the devil
himself ” (1.2.319), and certainly in his savior com-
plex regarding Ariel: “Dost thou forget / From what
a torment I did free thee?” (1.2.248–249). Miranda,
in her naïveté of youth, is far more optimistic, believ-
ing in love and brave new worlds yet to be experi-
enced. Upon meeting Ferdinand, she says, “There’s
nothing ill can dwell in such a temple” (1.2.458), and
of her father she says, “My father’s of a better nature,
sire, / Than he appears by speech” (1.2.497–498).
The distance of years between the father and daugh-
ter seems vast, and the representation of that which
falls between is foolishness and folly, as evidenced in
the subplot of Trinculo and Stephano planning their
political coup, which comically mirrors the pointless
scheming of Sebastian and Antonio. What makes
the actions of the latter ironic, of course, is that they
are aware of their status as stranded islanders, and
yet they cannot set aside their greed to acknowledge
that there is no country to rule.
While the play’s main focus is not necessarily
about the journey from innocence to experience, the
metaphor of life stages in the play is distinct, depict-
ing a doe-eyed innocence in the young, where love
and fidelity are not only possible but paramount.
Ferdinand proclaims, “O heaven, O earth, bear wit-
ness to this sound . . . Beyond all limit of what else
i’ the world / Do love, prize, honor you” (3.1.68–73),
after speaking only a few lines to Miranda and
knowing her for a few hours at the most. Middle
life includes an array of miscalculations, mistakes,
missteps, and regrets; old age brings a kind of wis-
dom that permits mercy and forgiveness in such
a way that makes the play poignant for Prospero,
who must learn these things. There also remains a
central question, perhaps, for Shakespeare himself
regarding how to negotiate the boundaries between
adolescence and maturity. Such negotiation, the
play asserts, does not rely on chronological age but
on state of mind and the ability to both offer and
receive mercies. Shakespeare himself appears to have
particular vested interest in this element of the play,
if one traces his “all the world’s a stage” (2.7.139)
motif from As You Like It, a much earlier play in
which man lives seven ages on his way to senility,
to a later play such as maCbeth, in which the “poor
player . . . struts and frets his hour upon the stage”
(5.5.24–25) and everything means nothing in the
end.
It is tempting to associate Shakespeare the man
with the fictional Prospero, who, by virtue of his giv-
ing up his magic cloak and books, seems to present
a formal goodbye to the stage on the author’s part—
“I’ll break my staff . . . I’ll drown my book” (5.1.52–
55)—but it is a sentimental notion. Perhaps we can
say, however, that The Tempest does embody an older
man’s recognition of age as wisdom rather than the
end of a pointless journey. There is optimism once
more in lines such as “We are such stuff / As dreams
are made on; and our little life / Is rounded with a
sleep” (4.1.156–158), in which life may be dream-
like, but it is not without meaning. Prospero claims
his “old brain is troubled” (4.1.159) but manages
nevertheless to grant mercy and forgiveness to his
enemies in the end: “Yes, with my nobler reason,