Well, we’re here. The last of Shakespeare’s 38 plays.
The Tempest is one of those that has a special place in my heart. I read it for the first time on a family vacation (in the battered old copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare that had no footnotes or explanations) and liked it well enough at the time. The more that I have read Shakespeare, however, the more this play has come to mean to me.
The Tempest has some very powerful things to say about forgiveness, freedom, compassion, and humanity, but the thing that stands out to me and almost brings tears to my eyes is Prospero’s Epilogue.
The Tempest is generally believed to be the last play that Shakespeare wrote (at least by himself). For that reason, and especially when considering that he died only a few years after writing the play, it becomes very difficult to read the Epilogue as Prospero. It seems almost impossible to read it as anything other than a direct plea from Shakespeare as a writer and a person. Consider the following excerpt:
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own,
Which is most faint…
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please…
As you from crimes would pardoned be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
Here is what I take from that:
For me, there is a sense from this passage that he feels like he doesn’t really have anything left to give. His strength is “most faint.” And from the next portion of the excerpt, it feels like he’s acknowledging that any success his work may have after he stopped writing was out of his hands – that it depended on us. (Think of ”gentle breath” as good Amazon reviews.)
The last two lines are rather heartbreaking if you’re looking at it from this point of view, because they almost seem to be asking for forgiveness for what is lacking in his work, what faults he has, what mistakes he has made.
With all of that, here is what I take from what I would like to call Shakespeare’s Epilogue: “I have given everything I have and done everything I could. It’s up to you to decide whether my work is worth anything, or whether to let it all die with me. I am sorry I couldn’t do more, but please. Please accept my work. It is all I have to give.”
I don’t know if Shakespeare had any idea that his work would still be read 400 years after he died. I don’t know if he ever thought there would be the remotest possibility that he would be considered one of the greatest writers who has ever lived. I don’t know if he would agree with anything I’ve said in any of my posts for this project (although I like to think he would).
Here’s what I do know.
William Shakespeare is an extraordinary writer – possibly unrivaled.
His work has eternal relevance.
And I feel fortunate to read the work of the man from Stratford-upon-Avon.
