Why I think I'm Righter than You Think I Am

A Hopefully Not-Too-Defensive Defense of my lack of Huzzahs for The Tempest

I've received flak from a few quarters for my less than glowing assessment of The Tempest. This is only surprising to me because it means somebody (other than The Spouse) is actually reading my screed. The flak manifests itself in a gentle, chiding form, which was not surprising. We generally save the searing, indignant rudeness for things we actually take seriously and/or find threatening.

The chiding is focuses on two things. First, that maybe if I saw The Tempest acted out on stage I'd be able to -ahem- better appreciate it, and two, that since I'm clearly more comfortable writing about boilers and bum necks, maybe I'm Just Not Getting the magnificence of the final play by one of the greatest writers to ever grace the English language.

As I think I mentioned in my previous entry, The Tempest as a theatrical is undoubtedly a feast for the senses. Great crashing waves, thunder claps, whipping winds and the like make for a scintillating experience. Lots of fun. Some experts speculate that the reason John and Henry stuck The Tempest in as the first play in their Folio was because it was so darn popular with the theatre-going crowd. However, with this blog I'm trying to figure out if I feel the Bard deserves all the accolades. You know- the fame, the groupies, the miserable high-school students forced to commit bits of Macbeth to memory. And for me, the Big Deal about the Bard needs to be more than that he puts on a fun show. All the pieces need to fit: the production, the story, the language, the characters, the subtext and message. I'm not expecting every play I read or see to rock my world. I'm just looking to develop a deep appreciation and the occasional epiphany. Stir my spirits, Bard baby. Surely that's not too much to ask of a guy who's been dead for 388 years.

And The Tempest just ain't all that, my friends. It's a good time, it's got some great things going on, but the plot is instantly predictable and some of the action is just plain silly. If you don't believe me, just ask Samuel Taylor Coleridge - you know, the Rime of the Ancient Mariner guy, who brought us Kubla Khan. Responsible for reviving interest in Shakespeare in Britain, he thinks Prospero's decision to come between Ferdinand and Miranda's mutual swoonfest is lame, too. In his famous lecture on the play, he says, "Prospero's interruption of the courtship has often seemed to me to have no sufficient motive". Another contemporaneous Shakespearean expert also backs me up to a certain extent:

"The Tempest has little of action or progressive movement; the union of Ferdinand and Miranda is settled at their first interview, and Prospero merely throws apparent obstacles in their way; the shipwrecked band go leisurely about the island; the attempts of Sebastian and Antonio on the life of the king of Naples, and the plot of Caliban and the drunken sailors against Prospero are nothing but a feint, for we foresee that they will be completely frustrated by the magical skill of the latter; nothing remains, therefore, but the punishment of the guilty by dreadful sights which harrow up their consciences, and then the discovery and final reconciliation."

Now this critic did NOT manage to write the Rime of the Ancient Mariner OR Kubla Kahn, which means 1) you are allowed to discount his opinion almost as much as you are allowed to discount mine, and 2) my source, an online edition of The Drama: Its History, Literature and Influence on Civilization, Alfred Bates, editor, did not bother to let me in on the name of the critic. But I think we can all agree that the important point here is that two learned guys concur with me (to a certain extent). So everybody just back off, okay? You can take exception with me, but don't mess with Sammy T. Because you just might find yourselves with a dead, rotting albatross around your neck. Or worse.

I should add that both of these critics go on to praise many aspects of The Tempest, as will I. But wowed I was not. I'm sure there are many things about The Tempest I am not grasping. But I shouldn't have to look for reasons to say a play is amazing when so many things seem lacking. If Shakespeare's greatness is timeless, no doubt I'll be amazed in due course.