We are Stuff as Dreams are Made On
Whitehead, Shakespeare, and Political Rallies
"We are such stuff as dreams are made on;
and our little life is rounded with a sleep."
The Text
Prospero (Act V, Scene I)
Be cheerful sir,
Our revels now are ended.
These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Our revels now are ended.
These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
The context:
Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan, has been stranded on a remote island with his daughter Miranda for twelve years. Using his magical abilities, he orchestrates a series of events to regain his position and seek justice against those who wronged him. In this scene, he has conjured a magical masque (a kind of performance) to celebrate the betrothal of Miranda to Ferdinand, the son of his old enemy, Alonso, King of Naples.
Just as the masque is in full swing, Prospero suddenly remembers that Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano are plotting to kill him. He interrupts the performance abruptly and speaks to Ferdinand, reflecting on the transient nature of life and art. He uses the dissolution of the masque to illustrate the ephemeral quality of all human endeavors, suggesting that everything—whether it be grand structures or human life itself—eventually fades away and leaves no trace behind.
Politics and Theatre
When I watch political rallies, I think of pep rallies for football games. They are theatrical performances with all the elements of a drama: grand gestures, public spectacles, and charismatic performances, all designed to communicate a vision of victory in the future. I also think of Shakespeare's The Tempest, with its image of Prospero, a ruler and magician, who uses his magic to create 'tempests,' exact vengeance, and reinstate his lost authority. Moreover, I think of Caliban, the native of the island, whom Prospero treats as a mere object, a commodity. I also reflect on Prospero's transformation at the end, where he turns from vengeance to forgiveness and recognizes the futility of his past actions and the transience of human life: "We are such stuff as dreams are made on." Additionally, I consider Whitehead's process philosophy and how it can illuminate aspects of these dynamics and dreams. This page is in service to those connections.
Hopes, Dreams, and Rallies
My friend Reagan just returned from his first Trump rally, and he couldn't stop raving about it. The atmosphere was electric, filled with fun, joy, and inspiration, creating a convivial environment that made him feel right at home. He made many new friends and was particularly enthralled by Trump's speech, which was a rollercoaster of emotions—anger, hope, sarcasm, and humor—all wrapped up in a promise of security, retribution, law and order, and the grand vision to Make America Great Again.
My friend Josie is about to attend a Harris rally, and her excitement is palpable. She's eagerly anticipating the opportunity to see Harris face-to-face, listen to the speakers, and forge new friendships in the vibrant atmosphere of the rally. She thinks of Harris as offering hope to a new, younger generation. She’s also thrilled at the prospect of hearing some really good music, knowing that Beyoncé has given Harris permission to use "Freedom" as the opening song for the event. Josie is brimming with enthusiasm, ready to immerse herself in the experience and be part of the energetic crowd. For the first time in a long time, she has hope.
I have not attended any rallies, but I've been reading Shakespeare's The Tempest with its famous line, "We are the stuff that dreams are made on." Reagan and Josie are both living from their dreams, and I am too. There is no need to limit "reality" to physical objects in space. It includes hopes, dreams, and experiences, some of them shaped by collective events of community, by rallies, sporting events, and concerts. I offer twenty Whiteheadian reflections responsive to Shakespeare's The Tempest, hoping it might shed a little light on political rallies and life.
Dreamlike Moments of Experience
Our lives consist of moments of experience that are dreamlike in nature—transient and evanescent. These fleeting and ephemeral moments form the fabric of our existence, reminding us of the impermanence and beauty of life.
Aspirational Hopes and Subjective Aims
Amid these moments, we live by dreams, aspirational hopes, or, as Whitehead puts it, "subjective aims," that guide our lives. These dreams propel us forward, providing direction and purpose, and shaping our decisions and actions.
Social and Political Dreams
Some of the most powerful subjective aims we live by, the most powerful dreams, are social and political in nature. These dreams inspire collective action and drive societal change, reflecting our deepest desires for justice, equality, and communal well-being.
Dreams Communicated through Art and Theatre
We don't simply create these dreams; we receive them—they are communicated to us—through art and, in the case of politics, political theatre. Art and political theatre serve as conduits, transmitting these dreams and aspirations, helping us to envision and strive for a better world.
The Political Rally as a Modern Masque
The political rally, analogous to the masque in Shakespeare's The Tempest, is one way of communicating and reinforcing a dream. The masque, a form of festive courtly entertainment, combined music, dance, and elaborate staging to convey allegorical and symbolic messages, much like how political rallies convey collective aspirations and ideals.
Collective Mood at Rallies and Masques
In the rally as in the masque, a collective mood defines the atmosphere. A collective mood is what Whitehead calls a network of emotions, or "subjective forms," that permeate the group, creating a shared emotional experience that unites participants.
The Dreamlike Nature of Collective Moods
The collective mood is dreamlike, too. It waxes and wanes during the event with temporality and fluidity like a dream and is evanescent, passing away into memory, both conscious and unconscious, like a dream.
The Audience as Performers
In a rally, the performers are the speakers and performers on stage, to be sure, but the audience is performing too, not only in its listening but also in the clothing it wears and other ways. The audience and performers together are the "performance," forming a network or nexus of events, where their interactions and shared energies create the event's unique atmosphere and impact.
Cognitive Content of Rallies
The rally as a whole, and the shared mood, has cognitive content as well as emotion. It communicates a political vision, an aspiration for what society and the world can be like. This content can be constructive or destructive, peaceful or violent, vindictive or generous—it is part of the lure for feeling of the rally as a whole.
Rally Organizers as Dream-Weavers
The people who create the rally are dream-weavers. They design the event to elicit the intended effect, not unlike the way in which a playwright, Shakespeare for example, designs an event (a play) to elicit an effect.
The Performance Affects the Performers
The performance also affects the performers. As they engage in the rally, they can become energized by their own participation, leading them to believe even more fervently in the cognitive content of the dream communicated by the rally. This experience can be intoxicating, like a drug, creating a cycle where performers seek more and more of this engagement and emotional investment.
Performers and Audience Need to See Their Performance as Drama
What performers most need, especially if they are politicians, is to see their own performance as a drama, a play. They must recognize that they are creating an illusion of sorts, which is potentially manipulative, can foreclose critical thought, and is itself passing, like a dream. Similarly, the audience needs to see the dream in this way, understanding the performative and transient nature of the rally's message.
The Need for Reflection
In Shakespeare's The Tempest, Prospero stops the masque midway and offers the soliloquy in which he says that "life is the stuff dreams are made on." This stopping midway can symbolize the reflection needed by the audience and performers alike at a political rally. It underscores the importance of pausing to consider the deeper meanings and implications of the performance, encouraging critical thought and self-awareness.
The Danger of Authoritarian Dream-Weavers
There is a danger when authoritarian dream-weavers create rallies to foster authoritarian ideals. Historical examples include Hitler and Mussolini, who used rallies to manipulate emotions, promote destructive and oppressive visions of society, and foreclose critical thought. In The Tempest, Prospero himself is authoritarian by temperament, ruling the island and its inhabitants with a firm hand. This highlights the importance of remaining vigilant and critical of the motives behind and messages conveyed through these events.
The Potential for Transformation
As in the case of Prospero in The Tempest, even dream-weavers can come to question their authoritarian leanings and become more forgiving. Prospero's journey from vengeance to forgiveness serves as a reminder that those who create and lead can also reflect, change, and adopt more compassionate and inclusive ideals. This potential for transformation underscores the importance of self-awareness and critical reflection for all involved in the performance.
Caliban's Dream of Freedom
In The Tempest, Caliban is portrayed as a colonized native who dreams of freedom from his oppressor, Prospero. Caliban's status as an indigenous inhabitant of the island, subjected to Prospero's rule and domination, exemplifies the experience of colonization. His dreams of liberation and autonomy, emerging from his experience of subjugation, highlight how even those who are oppressed and marginalized hold onto dreams of a better future. This underscores the universal nature of dreaming and the power of dreams to inspire hope and resistance against tyranny.
Ariel's Dream of Freedom
In The Tempest, Ariel is a spirit bound to serve Prospero, yearning for freedom. Ariel's dream of liberation from servitude reflects the desire for autonomy and self-determination. As a character who is neither fully human nor fully divine, Ariel represents the ethereal and transient nature of dreams themselves. Ariel's longing for freedom and eventual release by Prospero serves as a reminder that even those who seem bound by circumstances can aspire to and achieve liberation. This highlights the transformative power of dreams and the hope they offer for a better, freer future.
Ariel and Listening to Non-Human Voices
Ariel's character also invites us to listen to the non-human voices of the Earth and other creatures. Ariel, as a spirit of nature, symbolizes the interconnectedness of all life forms and the importance of heeding the messages and needs of the natural world. This perspective encourages us to be attentive to the subtle, often overlooked communications from the environment and other living beings, recognizing their intrinsic value and their role in the broader tapestry of life.
The Enchanted Island as a Dream
The enchanted island in The Tempest, where the entire play takes place, is itself a representation of a dream. It is a place where the boundaries between reality and illusion blur, and where magic and the supernatural are commonplace. The island symbolizes the realm of the subconscious, where hidden desires, fears, and aspirations come to the surface. It is a space of transformation and revelation, where characters confront their innermost selves and undergo profound change. The island, like a dream, serves as a canvas for exploring the depths of human experience and the possibilities of redemption and renewal.
The Relevant Dream Today
Today, the Earth itself is our enchanted island. It is filled with physical realities and also with spirits. The Calibans of the world are the marginalized and oppressed, often misunderstood and mistreated by those in positions of power. These individuals represent the raw and untamed aspects of humanity, their value and potential frequently overlooked. On the other hand, the Prosperos of the world are those inwardly controlled by dreams of authoritarian power, trapped in the intoxication of the performances in which they participate. These Prosperos often neglect or ignore the outsiders, dismissing them as irrelevant or inhuman—these outsiders are the Calibans of our world.
The relevant dream is not that we leave our island home, but that we help turn our home into a hospitable habitat for all people and other creatures. Toward this end, it would help if the Prosperos are transformed, as was Prospero, into people of generosity and forgiveness. And it would likewise help if the Calibans are empowered. This dream envisions a world where those in power recognize the humanity and worth of all people, embracing compassion and inclusivity to create a more just and harmonious society. It is a dream of awakening and transformation, where the barriers between the powerful and the powerless dissolve, leading to a community enriched by diversity and mutual respect.
My friend Josie is about to attend a Harris rally, and her excitement is palpable. She's eagerly anticipating the opportunity to see Harris face-to-face, listen to the speakers, and forge new friendships in the vibrant atmosphere of the rally. She thinks of Harris as offering hope to a new, younger generation. She’s also thrilled at the prospect of hearing some really good music, knowing that Beyoncé has given Harris permission to use "Freedom" as the opening song for the event. Josie is brimming with enthusiasm, ready to immerse herself in the experience and be part of the energetic crowd. For the first time in a long time, she has hope.
I have not attended any rallies, but I've been reading Shakespeare's The Tempest with its famous line, "We are the stuff that dreams are made on." Reagan and Josie are both living from their dreams, and I am too. There is no need to limit "reality" to physical objects in space. It includes hopes, dreams, and experiences, some of them shaped by collective events of community, by rallies, sporting events, and concerts. I offer twenty Whiteheadian reflections responsive to Shakespeare's The Tempest, hoping it might shed a little light on political rallies and life.
Dreamlike Moments of Experience
Our lives consist of moments of experience that are dreamlike in nature—transient and evanescent. These fleeting and ephemeral moments form the fabric of our existence, reminding us of the impermanence and beauty of life.
Aspirational Hopes and Subjective Aims
Amid these moments, we live by dreams, aspirational hopes, or, as Whitehead puts it, "subjective aims," that guide our lives. These dreams propel us forward, providing direction and purpose, and shaping our decisions and actions.
Social and Political Dreams
Some of the most powerful subjective aims we live by, the most powerful dreams, are social and political in nature. These dreams inspire collective action and drive societal change, reflecting our deepest desires for justice, equality, and communal well-being.
Dreams Communicated through Art and Theatre
We don't simply create these dreams; we receive them—they are communicated to us—through art and, in the case of politics, political theatre. Art and political theatre serve as conduits, transmitting these dreams and aspirations, helping us to envision and strive for a better world.
The Political Rally as a Modern Masque
The political rally, analogous to the masque in Shakespeare's The Tempest, is one way of communicating and reinforcing a dream. The masque, a form of festive courtly entertainment, combined music, dance, and elaborate staging to convey allegorical and symbolic messages, much like how political rallies convey collective aspirations and ideals.
Collective Mood at Rallies and Masques
In the rally as in the masque, a collective mood defines the atmosphere. A collective mood is what Whitehead calls a network of emotions, or "subjective forms," that permeate the group, creating a shared emotional experience that unites participants.
The Dreamlike Nature of Collective Moods
The collective mood is dreamlike, too. It waxes and wanes during the event with temporality and fluidity like a dream and is evanescent, passing away into memory, both conscious and unconscious, like a dream.
The Audience as Performers
In a rally, the performers are the speakers and performers on stage, to be sure, but the audience is performing too, not only in its listening but also in the clothing it wears and other ways. The audience and performers together are the "performance," forming a network or nexus of events, where their interactions and shared energies create the event's unique atmosphere and impact.
Cognitive Content of Rallies
The rally as a whole, and the shared mood, has cognitive content as well as emotion. It communicates a political vision, an aspiration for what society and the world can be like. This content can be constructive or destructive, peaceful or violent, vindictive or generous—it is part of the lure for feeling of the rally as a whole.
Rally Organizers as Dream-Weavers
The people who create the rally are dream-weavers. They design the event to elicit the intended effect, not unlike the way in which a playwright, Shakespeare for example, designs an event (a play) to elicit an effect.
The Performance Affects the Performers
The performance also affects the performers. As they engage in the rally, they can become energized by their own participation, leading them to believe even more fervently in the cognitive content of the dream communicated by the rally. This experience can be intoxicating, like a drug, creating a cycle where performers seek more and more of this engagement and emotional investment.
Performers and Audience Need to See Their Performance as Drama
What performers most need, especially if they are politicians, is to see their own performance as a drama, a play. They must recognize that they are creating an illusion of sorts, which is potentially manipulative, can foreclose critical thought, and is itself passing, like a dream. Similarly, the audience needs to see the dream in this way, understanding the performative and transient nature of the rally's message.
The Need for Reflection
In Shakespeare's The Tempest, Prospero stops the masque midway and offers the soliloquy in which he says that "life is the stuff dreams are made on." This stopping midway can symbolize the reflection needed by the audience and performers alike at a political rally. It underscores the importance of pausing to consider the deeper meanings and implications of the performance, encouraging critical thought and self-awareness.
The Danger of Authoritarian Dream-Weavers
There is a danger when authoritarian dream-weavers create rallies to foster authoritarian ideals. Historical examples include Hitler and Mussolini, who used rallies to manipulate emotions, promote destructive and oppressive visions of society, and foreclose critical thought. In The Tempest, Prospero himself is authoritarian by temperament, ruling the island and its inhabitants with a firm hand. This highlights the importance of remaining vigilant and critical of the motives behind and messages conveyed through these events.
The Potential for Transformation
As in the case of Prospero in The Tempest, even dream-weavers can come to question their authoritarian leanings and become more forgiving. Prospero's journey from vengeance to forgiveness serves as a reminder that those who create and lead can also reflect, change, and adopt more compassionate and inclusive ideals. This potential for transformation underscores the importance of self-awareness and critical reflection for all involved in the performance.
Caliban's Dream of Freedom
In The Tempest, Caliban is portrayed as a colonized native who dreams of freedom from his oppressor, Prospero. Caliban's status as an indigenous inhabitant of the island, subjected to Prospero's rule and domination, exemplifies the experience of colonization. His dreams of liberation and autonomy, emerging from his experience of subjugation, highlight how even those who are oppressed and marginalized hold onto dreams of a better future. This underscores the universal nature of dreaming and the power of dreams to inspire hope and resistance against tyranny.
Ariel's Dream of Freedom
In The Tempest, Ariel is a spirit bound to serve Prospero, yearning for freedom. Ariel's dream of liberation from servitude reflects the desire for autonomy and self-determination. As a character who is neither fully human nor fully divine, Ariel represents the ethereal and transient nature of dreams themselves. Ariel's longing for freedom and eventual release by Prospero serves as a reminder that even those who seem bound by circumstances can aspire to and achieve liberation. This highlights the transformative power of dreams and the hope they offer for a better, freer future.
Ariel and Listening to Non-Human Voices
Ariel's character also invites us to listen to the non-human voices of the Earth and other creatures. Ariel, as a spirit of nature, symbolizes the interconnectedness of all life forms and the importance of heeding the messages and needs of the natural world. This perspective encourages us to be attentive to the subtle, often overlooked communications from the environment and other living beings, recognizing their intrinsic value and their role in the broader tapestry of life.
The Enchanted Island as a Dream
The enchanted island in The Tempest, where the entire play takes place, is itself a representation of a dream. It is a place where the boundaries between reality and illusion blur, and where magic and the supernatural are commonplace. The island symbolizes the realm of the subconscious, where hidden desires, fears, and aspirations come to the surface. It is a space of transformation and revelation, where characters confront their innermost selves and undergo profound change. The island, like a dream, serves as a canvas for exploring the depths of human experience and the possibilities of redemption and renewal.
The Relevant Dream Today
Today, the Earth itself is our enchanted island. It is filled with physical realities and also with spirits. The Calibans of the world are the marginalized and oppressed, often misunderstood and mistreated by those in positions of power. These individuals represent the raw and untamed aspects of humanity, their value and potential frequently overlooked. On the other hand, the Prosperos of the world are those inwardly controlled by dreams of authoritarian power, trapped in the intoxication of the performances in which they participate. These Prosperos often neglect or ignore the outsiders, dismissing them as irrelevant or inhuman—these outsiders are the Calibans of our world.
The relevant dream is not that we leave our island home, but that we help turn our home into a hospitable habitat for all people and other creatures. Toward this end, it would help if the Prosperos are transformed, as was Prospero, into people of generosity and forgiveness. And it would likewise help if the Calibans are empowered. This dream envisions a world where those in power recognize the humanity and worth of all people, embracing compassion and inclusivity to create a more just and harmonious society. It is a dream of awakening and transformation, where the barriers between the powerful and the powerless dissolve, leading to a community enriched by diversity and mutual respect.
Perishing and Performance
Perpetual Perishing
Central to Whitehead’s thought is the idea of "perpetual perishing." Our lives as human beings consist of the moments of our experience, and we are these moments. We do not stand outside them as external subjects; our lives are our subjectivity, moment by moment.
Each moment (each occasion of experience, to use Whitehead's language) arises and then its immediacy perishes, to be succeeded by subsequent moments, which do the same. This cycle of becoming and perishing is fundamental to the process of reality. Just as dreams appear and disappear rapidly, leaving only impressions that influence subsequent experiences, our lives consist of moments that appear and then disappear. "We are such stuff as dreams are made on."
The Transience of Solid Objects
We might think that the solid objects of our world—"the cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself"—are permanent, but they, too, will perish in time, whether astronomical, geological, or biological. The earth itself, in time, will perish when the sun exhausts its fuel or through other cosmic events; it will vanish into thin air. As will our achievements on earth, whether artistic, philosophical, or financial.
Theatrical Events as Illustrative of Transience
Theatrical events are especially illuminative of this transience. It is the nature of theatre to create momentary chimera, illusions, play-like events, often called "scenes." As they occur, they seem palpably real. They are products of artistic magic. They have a kind of reality as performed and enjoyed, which disappears after having been experienced, only to reappear when performed again, only then to again disappear. They, too, are dreamlike.
Life as a Series of Performances
As are our lives. A recognition of this can give us perspective, as it does for Prospero. I write this during an election season, amid which a special kind of theatre is unfolding, live and on stage at political rallies, and also almost constantly on television, social media, and radio, through advertisements that give us "moments" of what a Whiteheadian might call "persuasive intensity." Such intensity happens when a scene occurs, and we feel the impact of what it seeks to persuade us to believe. These moments, like theatrical scenes, are crafted to evoke emotions and reactions, aiming to leave a lasting impression. However, just like the fleeting moments of a play, these too will pass, to be succeeded by other moments, other scenes, each with its own persuasive intensity. Political rallies, too, are "the stuff of which dreams are made."
Persuasive Intensity
Persuasive intensity is a kind of intensity that provides a worldview, a way of looking at the world, a narrative. It shapes our perceptions and beliefs, creating a coherent story that we live by. These narratives can be powerful, guiding our actions and influencing our decisions. In the context of political rallies, persuasive intensity can unite a crowd around a common cause, instill a sense of purpose, and create a shared identity. It is through these intense moments that we find meaning and direction, even if the underlying events are transient and ephemeral. Moments of persuasive intensity can also be fun, recreational, and socially significant, adding layers of enjoyment and community to the narratives they provide.
Critical Engagement and Analysis
Our critical faculties must come into play. We must analyze what the theatrical moments are trying to persuade us of. For example, during political rallies, speakers often use powerful imagery and emotive language to create a sense of urgency or solidarity among their audience. They might evoke themes of patriotism, fear, hope, or anger to rally support and shape public perception. By critically examining these elements, we can better understand the underlying messages and intentions, allowing us to respond more thoughtfully and make more informed decisions. We can see them for what they are: performances.
Media Amplification
The role of media and technology in amplifying these theatrical moments cannot be overstated. Television broadcasts, social media platforms, and online news outlets ensure that these moments reach a vast audience, creating a constant stream of persuasive intensity that can overwhelm our senses and critical faculties. Social media, in particular, can create echo chambers where these messages are reinforced, making it difficult for individuals to see beyond the performance.
Historical Context
This phenomenon is not new. Throughout history, political theatre has been used to persuade and manipulate public opinion. From the passionate speeches of Cicero in ancient Rome to the propaganda films of the 20th century, political leaders have always understood the power of theatricality. Today, this tradition continues in more sophisticated and pervasive forms.
Psychological Impact
Understanding the psychological mechanisms behind these performances is crucial. Emotional manipulation can significantly affect our decision-making processes and belief systems. Cognitive dissonance occurs when we encounter information that conflicts with our existing beliefs, and persuasive performances often exploit this to sway opinions.
Strategies for Critical Engagement
To navigate this landscape, we must develop and hone our critical thinking skills. Media literacy is vital in deconstructing the persuasive techniques used in political and social theatre. By being aware of these strategies, we can better analyze and interpret the messages presented to us. Media literacy involves understanding how media messages are constructed, recognizing bias and propaganda, and evaluating the credibility of sources. It also means being mindful of our own emotional responses to these messages and questioning the intent behind them. Engaging with a diverse range of media sources can help us to see multiple perspectives and avoid falling into the trap of confirmation bias.
Prospero
The Conversion of an Authoritarian Magician
He is a magician and politician. He likes to create chaos that shipwrecks others and weave magical spells on them through grand gestures, public spectacles, and charismatic performances—all to assert his authority and exact vengeance on those who have wronged him. I am speaking, of course, of Prospero in Shakespeare's play, The Tempest. He has magical powers and creates a storm, a tempest, by which a ship is shipwrecked on his island, so that he can reap vengeance on one of its inhabitants, namely his brother Antonio, who had usurped his throne. On this island, he rules with a firm hand, dictating the lives of its inhabitants, including his daughter Miranda, the spirit Ariel, and the native Caliban. He believes in power-over, not power-with.
Prospero’s interactions with the shipwrecked nobles also reveal his authoritarian nature. He strategically manipulates these alliances to reclaim his position as Duke of Milan, using his power to influence and control their actions. Prospero justifies his authoritarian rule through a belief in his superior knowledge and wisdom. He sees himself as a benevolent ruler, using his power for what he perceives as the greater good, even as he imposes his will on others without their consent. Prospero’s vision of justice is centered on his return to power and the restoration of order as he defines it. His authoritarian actions are framed as necessary steps toward achieving this goal.
To be sure, this is not the whole story. Over the course of the play, and especially at the end, Prospero’s authoritarian tendencies are tempered by moments of reflection and mercy. His eventual decision to forgive his enemies and relinquish his magical powers suggests a move away from absolute control toward a more reconciliatory and humane approach. He is subject to what process philosophers call creative transformation, which is all to the good. We in the process community wish that others in our time be similarly chastened, giving up their impulses to weave spells of illusion through spectacles and social media. This kind of weaving, this kind of magic, is very much alive in our time. It is political theatre, and it works on the power of seduction, not persuasion.
What, then, is a magical spell? Process philosophy offers a unique response. A magical spell is a halfway house between actuality and possibility. It is not an actual entity that feels and perceives and makes decisions, like a human being, nor is it an abstract possibility that is merely entertained in the mind. It is the palpable presence of what process philosophers call “lures for feeling.” It presents ideas as lures for what the world might be like with such seductive power that their recipients feel them as what the world is like. A good play, a good movie, a good piece of literature, a good poem, is replete with such lures. And so is a good spectacle, enacted by a politician, in order to accrue flattery and favor.
The most obvious form of theatre in Shakespeare's The Tempest is the masque that Prospero organizes. This masque, a form of dramatic entertainment popular in the 16th and 17th centuries, serves multiple purposes within the play. It is a celebration of the union between Miranda and Ferdinand, showcasing themes of harmony, order, and the blessings of the gods. Through its elaborate staging, music, and dance, the masque reinforces the idea of Prospero's control over the island and its inhabitants.
Prospero's orchestration of the masque also reveals his desire to use theatricality as a means of instruction and moral reinforcement. By presenting a vision of an ideal world where divine forces bless human endeavors, Prospero underscores his own vision of justice and proper order. This theatrical event is a microcosm of Prospero's larger project on the island: to restore what he sees as the rightful balance of power and relationships.
Furthermore, the masque within The Tempest highlights the play's broader exploration of illusion and reality. Prospero's magical abilities allow him to create spectacles that blur the line between the natural and supernatural, the real and the fantastical. The masque, with its divine characters and enchanting atmosphere, exemplifies this blending of worlds, inviting the audience to question the nature of reality and the power of art to shape perception.
Ultimately, the masque in The Tempest serves as a pivotal moment that encapsulates the play's themes of power, control, and the transformative potential of theatre. It is a testament to Prospero's mastery over both the physical and metaphysical realms and his ability to use art as a tool for both domination and enlightenment.
Why, then, does Prospero give up his magical power? Why does he forgive?
Throughout the play, Prospero’s use of magic to control and manipulate others reflects his initial belief in power-over relationships. He wields his abilities to exact revenge and reclaim his lost position, embodying an authoritarian mindset. However, as events unfold, Prospero begins to see the limitations and moral costs of his actions. The island itself becomes a crucible for this transformation, serving as a place where he confronts his past, his ambitions, and the impact of his rule on others.
The pivotal moment of Prospero’s transformation comes when he chooses to forgive his enemies. This decision marks a significant departure from his previous authoritarianism. By relinquishing his magical powers, he symbolically abandons his desire for absolute control. This act of renunciation reflects a move toward a more relational and cooperative mode of existence, resonating with the process philosophical idea of power-with rather than power-over.
Prospero’s journey can be seen as a process of awakening to the interconnectedness of all beings. He begins to recognize the value of mutual respect and the potential for growth and healing through forgiveness. His choice to forgive Antonio and others signifies a shift from retributive justice to restorative justice, aiming to heal broken relationships rather than perpetuate cycles of harm.
Prospero’s interactions with the shipwrecked nobles also reveal his authoritarian nature. He strategically manipulates these alliances to reclaim his position as Duke of Milan, using his power to influence and control their actions. Prospero justifies his authoritarian rule through a belief in his superior knowledge and wisdom. He sees himself as a benevolent ruler, using his power for what he perceives as the greater good, even as he imposes his will on others without their consent. Prospero’s vision of justice is centered on his return to power and the restoration of order as he defines it. His authoritarian actions are framed as necessary steps toward achieving this goal.
To be sure, this is not the whole story. Over the course of the play, and especially at the end, Prospero’s authoritarian tendencies are tempered by moments of reflection and mercy. His eventual decision to forgive his enemies and relinquish his magical powers suggests a move away from absolute control toward a more reconciliatory and humane approach. He is subject to what process philosophers call creative transformation, which is all to the good. We in the process community wish that others in our time be similarly chastened, giving up their impulses to weave spells of illusion through spectacles and social media. This kind of weaving, this kind of magic, is very much alive in our time. It is political theatre, and it works on the power of seduction, not persuasion.
What, then, is a magical spell? Process philosophy offers a unique response. A magical spell is a halfway house between actuality and possibility. It is not an actual entity that feels and perceives and makes decisions, like a human being, nor is it an abstract possibility that is merely entertained in the mind. It is the palpable presence of what process philosophers call “lures for feeling.” It presents ideas as lures for what the world might be like with such seductive power that their recipients feel them as what the world is like. A good play, a good movie, a good piece of literature, a good poem, is replete with such lures. And so is a good spectacle, enacted by a politician, in order to accrue flattery and favor.
The most obvious form of theatre in Shakespeare's The Tempest is the masque that Prospero organizes. This masque, a form of dramatic entertainment popular in the 16th and 17th centuries, serves multiple purposes within the play. It is a celebration of the union between Miranda and Ferdinand, showcasing themes of harmony, order, and the blessings of the gods. Through its elaborate staging, music, and dance, the masque reinforces the idea of Prospero's control over the island and its inhabitants.
Prospero's orchestration of the masque also reveals his desire to use theatricality as a means of instruction and moral reinforcement. By presenting a vision of an ideal world where divine forces bless human endeavors, Prospero underscores his own vision of justice and proper order. This theatrical event is a microcosm of Prospero's larger project on the island: to restore what he sees as the rightful balance of power and relationships.
Furthermore, the masque within The Tempest highlights the play's broader exploration of illusion and reality. Prospero's magical abilities allow him to create spectacles that blur the line between the natural and supernatural, the real and the fantastical. The masque, with its divine characters and enchanting atmosphere, exemplifies this blending of worlds, inviting the audience to question the nature of reality and the power of art to shape perception.
Ultimately, the masque in The Tempest serves as a pivotal moment that encapsulates the play's themes of power, control, and the transformative potential of theatre. It is a testament to Prospero's mastery over both the physical and metaphysical realms and his ability to use art as a tool for both domination and enlightenment.
Why, then, does Prospero give up his magical power? Why does he forgive?
Throughout the play, Prospero’s use of magic to control and manipulate others reflects his initial belief in power-over relationships. He wields his abilities to exact revenge and reclaim his lost position, embodying an authoritarian mindset. However, as events unfold, Prospero begins to see the limitations and moral costs of his actions. The island itself becomes a crucible for this transformation, serving as a place where he confronts his past, his ambitions, and the impact of his rule on others.
The pivotal moment of Prospero’s transformation comes when he chooses to forgive his enemies. This decision marks a significant departure from his previous authoritarianism. By relinquishing his magical powers, he symbolically abandons his desire for absolute control. This act of renunciation reflects a move toward a more relational and cooperative mode of existence, resonating with the process philosophical idea of power-with rather than power-over.
Prospero’s journey can be seen as a process of awakening to the interconnectedness of all beings. He begins to recognize the value of mutual respect and the potential for growth and healing through forgiveness. His choice to forgive Antonio and others signifies a shift from retributive justice to restorative justice, aiming to heal broken relationships rather than perpetuate cycles of harm.
The Tempest: A Scholarly Discussion
Melvyn Bragg and his guests discuss Shakespeare's play The Tempest. Written in around 1610, it is thought to be one of the playwright's final works and contains some of the most poetic and memorable passages in all his output. It was influenced by accounts of distant lands written by contemporary explorers, and by the complex international politics of the early Jacobean age.
The Tempest is set entirely on an unnamed island inhabited by the magician Prospero, his daughter Miranda and the monstrous Caliban, one of the most intriguing characters in Shakespeare's output. Its themes include magic and the nature of theatre itself - and some modern critics have seen it as an early meditation on the ethics of colonialism.
With:
Jonathan Bate
Provost of Worcester College, Oxford
Erin Sullivan
Lecturer and Fellow at the Shakespeare Institute, University of Birmingham
Katherine Duncan-Jones
Emeritus Fellow of Somerville College, Oxford
Producer: Thomas Morris
Reading list:
Christine Dymkowski (ed.), The Tempest, Shakespeare in Production series (Cambridge University Press, 2000)
Paul Edmondson, Paul Prescott and Erin Sullivan (eds.), A Year of Shakespeare: Re-living the World Shakespeare Festival (Arden Shakespeare, 2013)
Jonathan Goldberg, Tempest in the Caribbean (University of Minnesota Press, 2003)
Peter Hulme and William Sherman, ‘The Tempest’ and Its Travels (Reaktion Books, 2006)
William Shakespeare, (David Lindley ed.), The Tempest (Cambridge University Press, 2013)
Alden Vaughan and Virginia Vaughan, Shakespeare’s Caliban: A Cultural History (Cambridge University Press, 1993)
The Tempest is set entirely on an unnamed island inhabited by the magician Prospero, his daughter Miranda and the monstrous Caliban, one of the most intriguing characters in Shakespeare's output. Its themes include magic and the nature of theatre itself - and some modern critics have seen it as an early meditation on the ethics of colonialism.
With:
Jonathan Bate
Provost of Worcester College, Oxford
Erin Sullivan
Lecturer and Fellow at the Shakespeare Institute, University of Birmingham
Katherine Duncan-Jones
Emeritus Fellow of Somerville College, Oxford
Producer: Thomas Morris
Reading list:
Christine Dymkowski (ed.), The Tempest, Shakespeare in Production series (Cambridge University Press, 2000)
Paul Edmondson, Paul Prescott and Erin Sullivan (eds.), A Year of Shakespeare: Re-living the World Shakespeare Festival (Arden Shakespeare, 2013)
Jonathan Goldberg, Tempest in the Caribbean (University of Minnesota Press, 2003)
Peter Hulme and William Sherman, ‘The Tempest’ and Its Travels (Reaktion Books, 2006)
William Shakespeare, (David Lindley ed.), The Tempest (Cambridge University Press, 2013)
Alden Vaughan and Virginia Vaughan, Shakespeare’s Caliban: A Cultural History (Cambridge University Press, 1993)
Caliban (Act 3, Scene 2)
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d
I cried to dream again.
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d
I cried to dream again.
Prospero (Act IV, Scene 1)
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves,
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed
The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed
The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound