The Tempest – Use and Abuse of

Power
Anthony Read

Throughout The Tempest, a definite theme emerges: that of the use and
abuse of power. This is demonstrated in a number of ways, with Prospero
being at the centre of nearly all of them. Ideas like exile, language, and
magic all have their bases in Prospero’s time on the island, and the arrival
of Alonso and company signal the beginning of the true power plays that
occur throughout.
Two characters in the play remind us of the theme of exile as power: Prospero, and to a lesser
extent, Sycorax. Prospero was exiled to the island by his brother Antonio, allowing him to take
over the dukedom of Milan. Far from losing all his power, Prospero prospers from the island’s
stark nature that allows him to spend all his time studying the “art” of magic. In essence, both
Prospero and Antonio gain power from the exile, but in very different forms. Antonio gains
political power, whereas Prospero gains power as a magus. At the time of the exile, Antonio
sees his brother as an unwilling politician, and “to credit his own lie, he did believe he was
indeed the Duke” (I, ii, 102-103). Prospero, by his own words, makes the point clearer: “My
Library was dukedom large enough” (I, ii, 109-110). He was too ‘scholarly’ to maintain proper
political control of Milan, and so was usurped and exiled. On the island, his magical powers may
have grown, but he still is completely focused on his books and not on the political matters of
the island. His attitude does not change. Also, when talking about exile, Sycorax is often
overlooked. Her story parallels that of Prospero to a certain degree, as she too was exiled to the
island for being a witch. She, like Prospero, took control of the island by her magical powers. In
both these cases, we can see how solitude and/or exile is sometimes needed to achieve one’s
full potential of power.

Magic has a major role in the proceedings of the play, and again this can be traced directly to
Prospero. His power over magic comes to him when he is exiled to the island, not before, and
certainly not after, as is evidenced when he says, “Now my charms are all o’erthrown, and what
strength I have’s mine own, which is most faint” (Epilogue, 1-3). But during his time on the
island, his magic is quite strong, and can be referred to as ‘white’ magic. His ‘art’ is derived from
books, and so is a self-taught style of magic, which is mostly used for good. One can juxtapose
this against “the foul witch Sycorax” (I, ii, 258), whose magic stems from her own nature, and is
described as “mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible” (I, ii, 264-265) by Prospero. This can be
labeled as ‘black’ magic, as it is used for harm and evil’s sake. However, this may not entirely be
true, as Sycorax is not alive to counter Prospero’s tirade, but her treatment of Ariel (“she did
confine thee…into a cloven pine” (I, ii, 274-277)) speaks volumes about her true nature.

Although we can view Prospero’s magic as ‘white’, his human nature casts a dark shadow over
it. Once on the island, he usurps Caliban, takes control and frees Ariel from the tree, yet
enslaves him once again. He uses his magic to send Alonso and his company into fits of terror.
He tortures Caliban (‘I’ll rack thee with old cramps, fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar”
(I, ii, 369-370)) and threatens Ariel with enslavement (“And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
thou hast howled away twelve winters” (I, ii, 295-296)). For all his ‘good’ magic, he uses it to cast
anguish upon those around him. Through all these episodes, we generally view Prospero as a
tyrant, but a glimmer of light is found in his treatment of Miranda. He puts her to sleep as he
discusses his plans with Ariel, to protect her ears from hearing what he is to do. His
contradictory nature makes him hard to pin down, but his mistreatment of Caliban and Ariel,
and his campaign against Alonso make him a hard character to sympathise with.

Ferdinand and Miranda’s marriage in the play is another example of utilizing ulterior motives
means to gain power. This idea is represented a number of ways. From the outset, Miranda is
instantly smitten with Ferdinand, as he is the first male she has seen (apart from her father and
Caliban). In this respect, Ferdinand has power of Miranda instantly, and his offer of marriage is
immediately accepted (“My husband, then?” (III, i, 89)). This offer of marriage also gives
Prospero a second chance at creating a ‘perfect husband’. Prospero’s treatment of Ferdinand is
virtually the same to the way he treats Caliban, and since Caliban tried to rape Miranda,
Prospero feels the need to ‘purge’ the inner beast from Ferdinand. He is trying to create a vision
of Utopia, where everything is pure and innocent, and the newlyweds would become a version
of Adam and Eve (Flagstad, 1986). The masque reflects this idea as well, with the rape of
Prosperine stopped and reversed. Also, the characters used from Greek mythology (Iris, Ceres
and Juno) are goddesses of marriage and fertility, and Prospero picked these characters to put
their blessing on the newlyweds (Ermitage, 2002). One may see this as Prospero being a loving
father, looking after the wellbeing of his only daughter, and expecting only the best man to
marry her. A more cynical view is that he is just on a quest to create his own Eden, and even at
play’s end, where Prospero decides to return to Milan, the marriage of Ferdinand and Miranda
ties together the city-states of Naples and Milan. The former enemies of North and South Italy
are now connected, and even though Prospero loses his magus status, he takes on more
political power than ever before.

There have been many interpretations of Shakespeare’s final play, such as it being a carbon copy
of the Joseph story in Genesis (Hoyle, 1977), but arguably the most popular reading is that of
colonialism, especially in America, the “brave new world”. If one was to read the play
completely in this light, certain characters can be drawn, such as the prototypical frontier
bandits (Trinculo and Stephano) and “domineering colonial planters” (Prospero) (Vaughan,
1988). Brown mentions that colonialism is ‘fixing the other’, while in fact this knowledge passed
on to the other is used against him, with threats that the ‘colonialist’ can understand (Brown,
1985). This apparent in the play when Caliban is usurped by Prospero. In his early kindness,
Prospero allows Miranda to teach Caliban how to speak (“endowed thy purposes with words
that make them known” (I, ii, 357-358)), however as Prospero’s rule becomes fiercer, so does
Caliban’s rebellion. “You taught me language, and my profit on’t is I know how to curse; the red
plague rid you me learning me your language!” (I, ii, 363-365) Caliban utters these words, and
his true feelings for Prospero can be revealed, as he has attained the power of language. Also,
Caliban is the “amoral, appetitive, suffering Self in all of us, ever in search of freedom to satisfy
all its hungers” (Egan, 1972, II). By trying to ‘purge’ this inner darkness and attain power over
Caliban, the more Prospero becomes like him, in action and word.

Skura’s reading gives the idea of the play “enacting colonialism” and somehow justifying it for
the English during colonialist times (Skura, 1989). In these times, this play would have resonated
well with audiences, who could see similarities between the ‘other’ and themselves. By utilising
the characters of Prospero and Caliban, people could easily distinguish this difference. It also
comes in the form of Stephano and Trinculo (“masterless men”) and Ferdinand and Miranda’s
sexuality (Willis, 1989). The idea of power relates directly to colonialism, however today we can
read particular discourses of colonialism into the play, effectively molding the play to suit the
idea. Evidence of Shakespeare’s possible colonialist input is evident in Prospero’s differing
treatment of Caliban and Ariel. The play seems to put across the idea that submission will gain
freedom, whereas rebellion will ensure slavery. However, this discourse does not suit the end of
the play, where Caliban is effectively set free. In colonialist times, if natives would not comply
with the new challenges facing them, they were enslaved or killed. A colonialist reading of the
play is valid in some respects, but falls short in many others.

The Tempest puts forward the idea that power can be sought after and gained using whatever
means necessary, however keeping that power and not abusing it is hard to maintain. The broad
themes that permeate the play only add to this theory: Prospero’s exile, where he gains power
instead of losing it; magic that can be used for good as well as evil, all depending on the person
utilising it; and marriage that has less than honourable motives behind it. These all reflect on the
discourse of colonialism, with the general idea of exerting power over the ‘other’ evident
throughout. But perhaps the main idea to take from the play is that power has a tangible
relationship to authority: power is simply means to control others. When it is lost, so is
authority.
Reference List

Brown P, 1985, ““This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine”: The Tempest

and the Discourse of Colonialism”, Political Shakespeare: New Essays in
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Egan R, 1972, “This Rough Magic: Perspective of Art and Morality in The
Tempest”, Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 23, No. 2, pp. 171-182, Folger
Shakespeare Library.

Flagstad K, 1986, ““Making This Place Paradise”: Prospero and the Problem
of Caliban in The Tempest”, Shakespeare Studies, Vol. 18, pp. 205-228.

Shakespeare W, Ermitage K (ed), 2002, Simply Shakespeare: The Tempest,

Barron’s Educational Series, New York.

Skura M, 1989, “Discourse and the Individual: The Case of Colonialism in

the Tempest”, Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 40, No. 1, pp. 42-69, Folger
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Willis D, 1989, “Shakespeare's Tempest and the Discourse of Colonialism ”,

Studies in English Liturature, Vol. 29, No. 2, pp. 277-289, viewed 30 August
2007, JSTOR.

Vaughan A, 1988, “Shakespeare’s Indian: The Americanization of Caliban”,

Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 39, No. 2, pp. 137-153, viewed 2 September
2007, JSTOR.

Hoyle J, 1977, “The Tempest, the Joseph Story, and the Cannibals ”,
Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 28, No. 3, pp. 358-362, viewed 2 September
2007, JSTOR.