The Tempest–Act I

You may be aware that I didn’t make a post for the final act of Julius Caesar. I basically didn’t feel like repeating myself, so I didn’t find it necessary to post.



Now, I must admit something. Whenever I read a storm in a Shakespeare play, I instinctively categorize it as one of the following–My criticism sometimes is from habit. So, when the act opened, I thought one of the three things:

  1. The storm is the external manifestation of a disposition of one of the most important characters
  2. It is symbolic of the indomitable forces of nature, that pass and continue despite human life and death that takes place within it’s workings.
  3. It symbolizes Divine nature.

The act that follows, however, reveals that this tempest doesn’t fit my usual criteria. It’s all three of the aforementioned, and it’s also none of the above. I don’t know what I’d do if I were given a multiple choice exam question in regard to the tempest.

The storm sets up the revenge of Prospero. And, let’s take a minute to look at that name. Prospero means fortunate, from the Latin “Prosper” which takes a modern English meaning as prosperous. Now, given that his dukedom was usurped and he wound up on an island, Prospero doesn’t seem that fortunate. However, he was usurped because he took no interest in affairs of the state, but rather devoted himself to study, and even cast away onto an island, he continues learning. Pretty cool, if I do say so myself. Oh, and he’s constantly speaking of how fortune has fallen upon him in regards to the storm–for which he is responsible–and he’s also a magician? I’m looking forward to this unfolding. I love when Shakespeare gives me a great name and an interesting character. It’s like a little gift for people who like words.

Prospero Caliban and Miranda


I have a rant at hand, and I’m debating whether or not to go on for a long time, or making a bullet point of things that I’ve notices in the second scene. Hmm. Decisions.

Let’s just make a list for the sake of easy reading and easy writing.

  • The pity of Caliban is manifested in teaching his words, to name things, and to know things. He’s far from something human, we could say he bares the mark of Cain, but we may be stretching it, but he’s given the gift and duty of man–words and naming.
  • It is through words and language that Ferdinand recognizes Prospero and Miranda as human.
  • Music brings Ferdinand to seeing the lovely Miranda
  • Ariel–actually, I have nothing to say to this, other than I really like him. Looking forward to seeing him free. And why he wants freedom and what he plans to do with his freedom.

It’s probably apparent I was going to go on a long-winded tangent concerning words. But, the points are made, and I am exhausted on thoughts.


Twelfth Night–Introduction and Act I

My apologies for my absence, it began as a holiday for the holidays and swiftly converted into a sickness that left me in bed for over a week. That said, let’s talk about Twelfth Night (and look at this creepy picture I found).



In a world set in the ancient Balkins ruled by Romans, we open with…Music! Of course, this rings a chord akin to Viola’s speech later, that she shall sing and speak to ol’ Orsino in “many sorts of music” (I.ii.58), which then begins her masquerade–as a man.

There’s only one real thing I can think to point out in this opening. Illyria is the Latin pronunciation of this land, and the only one speaking Latin is the clown Feste. Sir Toby mixes Spanish and French terms interspersed in his conversation, but he doesn’t seem to comprehend what he’s saying, while Feste responds to his own phrases in such a way that it displays a knowledge of the language said. At least, from my google translation work. Modern era translation, brought to you via the google cloud.


Other than that, we have another play of girls pretending to be boys in order to trick and woo their appropriate match. And your input. Otherwise, I’ll have to wait to read the rest and watch it unfold until I can say more.