Blog #5: Prospero & Sycorax: “How Far is TOO Far?”

(Miranda – The Tempest by John William Waterhouse, 1916).

I know what I am about to admit will likely be considered heresy by literary scholars alike, especially as someone hosting their own literary blog, but I’m going to say it anyway:

In the past, I never cared much for Shakespeare’s plays.

Now, before you get your pitchforks and torches ready, allow me to elaborate. I think I had a similar introduction to Shakespeare as most, being forced to read the cliché love story of “Romeo and Juliet” as a high schooler who thought they had better things to do than read the works of some old historic figure.

After “Romeo and Juliet,” I had to read “Macbeth.” As I briefly mentioned in my previous blog post,  I have always loved strong elements of mythology and witchcraft in the fiction I consume, so “Macbeth” (and the three witches, specifically) kept my interest, and I actually enjoyed it. By this point, things were starting to look up—but then, I had to read “Hamlet.”

While I liked some of the supernatural elements in “Hamlet,” something about having to read this play really irked me. This probably has something to do with that “high school” state of mind I mentioned, but by this third experience of reading his works, I came to terms with the fact that maybe reading Shakespeare just wasn’t meant for me.

Recently, I was offered the the opportunity to read Shakespeare’s “The Tempest.” Instead of rejecting this opportunity and instead choosing another path of reading, I figured I should step out of my comfort zone and give Shakespeare at least one more try. So far, he was out of my favor by 2-1, so maybe this play would even out my judgement of his work….

If I didn’t like “The Tempest”, at least it would be a cathartic way to say goodbye to Shakespeare—considering the fact that it was his last play.

Spoiler alert: I loved “The Tempest.”

(Charles Kean’s watercolour set designs for The Tempest, 1857).

To briefly summarize “The Tempest” for context, a sorcerer named Prospero who was formerly the Duke of Milan was usurped by his brother, Antonio, and forced to escape Milan by sailing away to a magical deserted island with his daughter, Miranda.

On the island, Prospero frees a trapped spirit named Ariel, who was sealed away by his previous master– an old witch named Sycorax. It is revealed that Sycorax was stranded on the island while pregnant, eventually giving birth to a monstrous son named Caliban. Prospero would go on to enslave Caliban as his servant to gather logs for firewood.

When the play begins, we learn that Prospero has begun to hatch the ultimate revenge plan against those who did him wrong by being involved (both directly and indirectly) in the plot to usurp him as the Duke of Milan.

Using his powerful sorcery to control the spirit Ariel, Prospero magically forces those involved in the treacherous plot against him to be shipwrecked and stranded on his island, where he uses his magic to make them all suffer and feel a similar pain that he felt.  

By the end of the play, Prospero shows mercy to his enemies on the island, is rightfully restored his Duke title, and everything works out happily ever after.

(Ariel, Sycorax and Caliban, illustrated by John Gilbert).

In this summary, I left out a bunch of key elements from the play– instead focusing on the plot aspects that stood out to me, personally. With this summary in mind in tangent with my stated preferences for fiction, it’s no wonder I enjoyed “The Tempest” so much. How could I not? There’s a mythical island, supernatural spirits, and lots of witchcraft—the perfect formula for a successful story, at least in my opinion.

My fascination with “The Tempest” led me down a rabbit hole of curiosity as to why I am such a fan of depictions of witchcraft in fiction. Perhaps as a power fantasy? I’m sure plenty of others before me have written their own theories about all sorts of elements of “The Tempest,” such as the popular idea of Prospero being a Shakespeare self-insert, but my line of thinking made me want to take a deeper look at two seemingly-opposite magic practitioners in the play, namely Prospero and Sycorax.

Before I get into the heart of my analysis, I want to directly state my leading question. Prospero and Sycorax are presented as opposing figures who both happen to be extremely skilled sorcerers—but both go on to use their magic powers to exploit others.

Since we are led to believe Prospero is good and Sycorax is bad, this brings up the question of how this distinction was made. Who gets to judge the morality of the means for which they use magic?

In other words, when enforcing control through magic, “How far is TOO far?”

In “The Tempest,” we are definitely given more insight to Prospero’s witchcraft compared to Sycorax, as we actually see his character throughout the entire play. Despite my interest in the character of Sycorax, it is important to mention that she doesn’t even officially make an appearance in the play—she is only referenced a few times by Prospero. Still, many assumptions can be made about her larger role in the mythology of the island, and thus, significance in the play.

For example, in Act 1 Scene 2 after Ariel causes Prospero’s enemies to be shipwrecked on the island, Ariel questions Prospero about when he will be set free. Prospero angrily replies, “Hast thou forgot the foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?” (1.2.259-261).

Prospero goes on to give us more insight about her backstory, saying “This damned witch Sycorax, for mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible to enter human hearing, from Argier, thou know’st, was banished. For one thing she did they would not take her life. Is not this true?” (1.2.267-270).

This is a significant moment to compare their characters, as Prospero is claiming that Ariel is ungrateful towards Prospero, even though he was the one who used his magic to free him from his prison in the pine tree on the island. While Sycorax is undoubtedly immoral in this context for imprisoning Ariel in the first place, it still brings Prospero’s motives for freeing Ariel into question…

(Ariel in the Cloven Pine by Paul Vincent Woodroffe).

It’s hard for me to accept Prospero’s argument that he was doing Ariel a great service by freeing him, and in exchange, Ariel should be indebted to Prospero—just like he was to Sycorax in the past. I think if he truly wanted to set Ariel free without any selfish intent, he would’ve just set him free—not asked him to serve his practices.

I guess at least Ariel wasn’t still trapped in a pine tree.

While Prospero ultimately keeps his promise and sets Ariel free by the end of the play, this moment still shows that both Prospero and Sycorax were still willing to go to extremes to assert their dominance over Ariel. Is Prospero’s cruelty towards Ariel justified just because he set the spirit free in the end? Maybe I’m playing “devil’s advocate” here, but couldn’t one propose the argument that perhaps Sycorax intended to eventually free Ariel before she died?

Another brief moment I’d like to point to comes from Prospero’s dialogue with his slave, Caliban, when he goes to visit him with Miranda. In Act 1, Scene 2, Prospero calls out to Caliban, “Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam, come forth!” (1.2.324-325).

In other words, Prospero mocks Caliban because his mother was Sycorax. When you consider the fact that he later mocks his monstrous appearance, it can be assumed that he’s saying he looks so terrible because his mother was a witch—and thus had relations with “the devil himself.”

This is ironic, given the fact that we know Prospero practices magic as well—but it is important to note that he is a male, and Sycorax a female. Perhaps, outside of a fantastical context, this diminishment of Caliban because of his mother says something about Prospero’s sexism in regards to the authority of power? Like I mentioned earlier, there’s plenty of room for theories.

(Caliban, Miranda and Prospero by C.W. Sharpe, 1875).

Ultimately, after reading further into “The Tempest” and exploring some underlying questions involving authority in association with magical power, I’m left curious about Shakespeare’s intentions of including the character of Sycorax as a “foil” to Prospero.

With a deeper appreciation for his work and the vast potential for theorization, I’m left thinking I was a little too harsh with my initial disdain of his works. I wonder what Shakespeare would think of my theories that came from my reading…

Considering all of the adaptations and interpretations taken from the original play, I’m also left curious as to what other fan-theories or plot continuations have to bring to the table.