Question

How does Shakespeare explain ups and downs in the tempest

Answer 1

Answer:

Some of Shakespeare’s most vivid word-creations turn up in The Tempest. My favourite is Trinculo being described as reeling ripe – so drunk he’s staggering about. But that has to compete with such evocative adjectival compounds as cloud-capped (towers), strong-based (promontory) and pole-clipped (vineyard), or the noun compound demi-puppets, or the verb compound weather-fend (defend against the weather). These feel like the product of a linguistically creative mind.

Undoubtedly, some of the first recorded usages found in this play are coincidences: Shakespeare just happens to be the first person we know to have written them down. When the spirits sing ‘the watchdogs bark, bow-wow’ (1.2.385), it might come as a surprise to know that this is the first time we see both watchdogs and bow-wow written down in English (the latter in the remarkable Folio spelling, bough-wawgh). But they would have been in the language long before that, as would Ariel’s grumblings and Gonzalo’s leaky (ship/wench). And the same probably applies to blue-eyed (hag), grass-plot and Caliban’s high-day (i.e. a variant of hey-day, meaning a day of celebration). But some of the new compounds have an uncertain status: are Caliban’s footfall and Ariel’s mid-season everyday local expressions or poetic adaptations? It’s difficult to say.

In total, there are 45 novel forms in The Tempest. We see new prefixed words in betrim (to trim something), discase (take off clothing), over-topping (being over-ambitious) and the splendid over-stink (drown the smell of), describing the foul water into which Ariel leads Stephano and the others. There are new suffixed words too: baseless (fabric) and printless (foot), razorable (chins), the adverbs instinctively and rootedly, and the mouth-twisting chirurgeonly (like a surgeon). That last is not the only polysyllabic monster: note also expeditious (sail) and unmitigable (rage).

Answer 2

The Tempest tells a fairly straightforward story involving an unjust act, the usurpation of Prospero’s throne by his brother, and Prospero’s quest to re-establish justice by restoring himself to power. However, the idea of justice that the play works toward seems highly subjective, since this idea represents the view of one character who controls the fate of all the other characters. Though Prospero presents himself as a victim of injustice working to right the wrongs that have been done to him, Prospero’s idea of justice and injustice is somewhat hypocritical—though he is furious with his brother for taking his power, he has no qualms about enslaving Ariel and Caliban in order to achieve his ends. At many moments throughout the play, Prospero’s sense of justice seems extremely one-sided and mainly involves what is good for Prospero. Moreover, because the play offers no notion of higher order or justice to supersede Prospero’s interpretation of events, the play is morally ambiguous.

As the play progresses, however, it becomes more and more involved with the idea of creativity and art, and Prospero’s role begins to mirror more explicitly the role of an author creating a story around him. With this metaphor in mind, and especially if we accept Prospero as a surrogate for Shakespeare himself, Prospero’s sense of justice begins to seem, if not perfect, at least sympathetic. Moreover, the means he uses to achieve his idea of justice mirror the machinations of the artist, who also seeks to enable others to see his view of the world. Playwrights arrange their stories in such a way that their own idea of justice is imposed upon events. In The Tempest, the author is in the play, and the fact that he establishes his idea of justice and creates a happy ending for all the characters becomes a cause for celebration, not criticism.

By using magic and tricks that echo the special effects and spectacles of the theater, Prospero gradually persuades the other characters and the audience of the rightness of his case. As he does so, the ambiguities surrounding his methods slowly resolve themselves. Prospero forgives his enemies, releases his slaves, and relinquishes his magic power, so that, at the end of the play, he is only an old man whose work has been responsible for all the audience’s pleasure. The establishment of Prospero’s idea of justice becomes less a commentary on justice in life than on the nature of morality in art. Happy endings are possible, Shakespeare seems to say, because the creativity of artists can create them, even if the moral values that establish the happy ending originate from nowhere but the imagination of the artist.