h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The Tempest is my favourite Shakespeare play, and I'll hopefully come back and write something sensible (or at least longer!) about it later...

But briefly:

The Tempest is a revenge fantasy which all ends happily, a play in which an outcast of society causes all sorts of temporary misery for his tormentors before getting his daughter paired off with a nice young man and initiating a round of forgiveness. It's one of the few of his plays where the supernatural plays a prominent role, in the character of the sprite Ariel and the magics of the sorcerous Prospero, the closest the play has to a protagonist. Miranda, Prospero's daughter, is surely the most pathetic of all Shakespearean heroines, which is all the more noticeable as she is the only female in the play (though Ariel's gender, if he/she/it has one, is inconclusive), making her The Tempest's weakest link.

The Tempest is also the last play Shakespeare wrote alone, and is thought to have been his last play as an actor. Prospero's final speech, similar to Robin's speech at the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream, is an appeal for applause disguised as Prospero asking for forgiveness, but can also be read as Shakespeare bidding goodbye to his audience.

The characters of Prospero, Miranda, Ariel and Caliban have intrigued writers since Shakespeare's time, with various sequels, spin-offs and the like being written. The play also inspired the science fiction film Forbidden Planet and hence the rock 'n' roll musical Return to the Forbidden Planet.

That's all for me for now. Be not afear'd...

David

My favourite too, David. I love the contrasts between Prospero's two slaves - the binary opposition of the 'airy sprite' Ariel and the very earthy Caliban. Also the almost colonial aspect of the piece, with Prospero 'educating' the monster Caliban, only for Caliban to resent him [it's a paraphrase, but Caliban says something alon the line of: 'You taught me language, and my profit on this is I curse thee' - his only use for language is to swear at his master.

You also get Miranda's oft-misquoted lines 'The stuff that dreams are made on' and 'What brave new world that has such people in't'. That she, protected form the machiavellian intrigue of her father's court and, by his isolation, also protected from the fact that he was a rubbish king, has nothing but positive impressions when she sees other people. She has no idea that these were the men who condemned her and her father to exile; all she sees is the wonder of God's creation.

The daft moo.

The first time I read it (I'm afraid I read it before I saw it, sometimes not a good idea!), I wanted to hit Miranda as soon as she said [paraphrasing again] 'If by your art dearest father you have put these wild waters in their roar, allay them'. The 'brave new world' line only re-inforced my opinion, as has every subsequent reading, viewing and theatre trip, no matter the skill of the poor lady playing Miranda. I've never understood how the man that could write Portia (both of them!), Viola and Lady Macbeth could come up with such a drippy woman. Worse than Bianca in Taming of the Shrew.

Do you know, you're the only other person I've come across who says this is their favourite of the Bard's works? At least I know I'm not in a minority of one!

As well as being one of the best (to me anyway) and, as has already o observe the classical "unities" (time, place and action). This is sometimes said to be just to prove he could - Shakey's farewell "v-sign" to the critics who said he was no good because he'd previously ignored them. Nothing changes.

Miranda's line "....brave new world, that has such people i'it" is utterly forgivable when you remember she has been raised by an indulgent and over-protective father, and has no knowledge of the world. It also sets up Prospero's killer line "'Tis new to thee".

Whoops - try agin.

As well as being one of the best (to me anyway) and, as has already been said, Shakespeare's last, it the only one of his plays to observe the classical "unities" (time, place and action). This is sometimes said to be just to prove he could - Shakey's farewell "v-sign" to the critics who said he was no good because he'd previously ignored them. Nothing changes.

Miranda's line "....brave new world, that has such people i'it" is utterly forgivable when you remember she has been raised by an indulgent and over-protective father, and has no knowledge of the world. It also sets up Prospero's killer line "'Tis new to thee".

This is also popular with Doctor Who fans as the nearest thing Shakespeare ever wrote to the show. So close, in fact, that in adapting Forbidden Planet into 'The Planet of Evil', Doctor Who did its first Shakespeare remake. Ish.

'as the nearest thing Shakespeare ever wrote to the show'

Zoinks - truly a sad fan alert!!

From Amazon, the plot for Richard Powers' novel "Galatea 2.2" is:

"Cognitive neurologist and well-known writer team up to produce a machine that can pass a comprehensive exam in English literature, with predictably unpredictable results."

A professor is asked to come up with a work that will be analyzed by both the "machine" (a computer, sort of) and a graduate student, to see if the machine can pass this specific version of the Turing test. Both are expecting something like a complete Shakespeare play, but the professor gives them this for analysis:

"Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not."

When the professor notices the surprise by the group, he says "Too much? Then just do the first line."

Last year I had the honour of playing Alonso in a production of 'The Tempest'. It was a marvellous role to play for a famously grumpy old git like me: Alonso is wonderfully world-weary and guilt-ridden. He's a king who's risen to power through various Machiavellian intrigues that involved his replacing Prospero as Duke of Milan, and Prospero being forced to flee into exile on what has now become his magical island. Alonso spends much of the play frantically looking for his son Ferdinand, fearing that he has probably drowned in the shipwreck at the beginning of the play. Alonso searches the beaches for Ferdinand, despairs of ever seeing his son again, but happily eventually finds his boy alive and well and smooching with Miranda.

I always particularly enjoyed delivering the lines: 'O thou mine heir of Naples and of Milan/ What strange fish hath made his meal on thee?' - the nearest Shakespeare ever came to writing 'So long, and thanks for all the fish'.

I'm not usually a fan of Peter Greenaway, but he condensed The Tempest into a film called Prosperos Books, with John Geilgud as Prospero. It is an absolutley fabulous film. The scenery, atmosphere and performances are from the very front rank.
In my opinion it is the finest 'Shakespeare film' - by a mile