LaBarre 1 1) The first couple paragraphs here are disorienting. This is partly because I don t see a problem articulated that s motivating your inquiry. Instead, I see a fairly well-reasoned argument which is one that I don t exactly see you arguing in the essay itself. Indeed, when the following paragraph switches over to Virgil, I m like huh? Here s my advice for revision. First: Pose a more simple problem perhaps about Prospero s mercy. What are we to do with this mercy? How will we make sense of this. That way, you can bring in Tillyard (in his own paragraph) as a context for making sense of this question. Then, in a third paragraph, you can get into Virgil but only if you situate The Aeneid clearly as a poetic example that reinforces of Tillyard s world-picture. This kind of deliberate work at building a context is going to be crucial for such a complex argument. 2) Towards the end of this essay, I felt like there was a piece of nuance that could have clarified your sense of Prospero s mercy: Christianity. This is a major difference between Sh. and Virgil and, generally, a source of anxiety for Virgil-loving early modern poets. That difference is also relevant here. In Virgil s worldview, the divine order (fate) is brutal and unyielding; it has casualties (like Dido and Turnus). In a Christian worldview, the divine order MUST make room for mercy; Jesus is at the top of the cosmic order, and his M.O. is mercy. I think that a simple mention of this fact (you can treat Christianity as common knowledge here) can help you lend some teeth to your final analysis. 3) Occasionally, I don t see you articulating your points as clearly as you might. Specifically, I m not always seeing how each paragraph is building on the one before it. Again, in an argument as complex as this, you re going to want to be clear and explicit about your logic; you re really building point upon point here, and those relationships really can t be left to the imagination.
LaBarre 2 Donnie LaBarre ENGL 305 Dr. Scheler 22 February 2016 Order and Forgiveness in The Tempest and The Aeneid During Shakespeare s day, many people believed in the concept of a natural and cosmic order where all of the beings of the universe each have their position in a massive hierarchy. The gods/god rest on top of the chain, followed by angels, humans, mammals, birds, and so on, and it was considered impossible to improve one s position on the scale (Tillyard 169). In The Tempest, Prospero has a magical iron grip over the goings-on of the mysterious island which, although he is human, resembles the control a divinity would hold over the universe. Additionally, at the play s conclusion, Prospero forgives his enemies rather than exacting revenge, despite the pain and loss they have made him suffer. This demonstration of compassion constitutes an act which one would not expect from a lowly human on the hierarchy, and it is more impressive than a divine being simply punishing those who wrong it. As a result of his mercy and selflessness, Prospero regains his rightful dukedom and ascends the cosmic chain to a level above his humanity. If we ignore or dismiss the possibility of fluid positions in the natural order, we miss out on the lessons The Tempest has to teach us regarding how to ascend the chain in our own lives. Through exercising forgiveness and compassion even when it was almost painful to do so, Prospero breaks free from the bonds of his humanity and ascends the cosmic hierarchy. Virgil s epic poem The Aeneid portrays a condensed version of the natural order in action Commented [DS1]: This is a strong argument outlined here; each sentence feels like a paragraph that will appear in the essay that will follow. However, I think your introduction is a better place to make a case why this argument needs to be made in the first place why reading The Tempest against Tillyard is going to be valuable. In other words: I see an argument sketched out (but not evidenced) here, but no real problem articulated that might motivate that argument. Commented [DS2]: This transition feels abrupt. I think you first need to articulate what the cosmic order is in its own paragraph, citing Tillyard. Then, preface this paragraph with a statement like this sense of natural order would affect how Shakespeare thought about poetry.
LaBarre 3 during Aeneas encounter with the harpies in Book III. During their travels, Aeneas and his fellow Trojan exiles make landfall on an island to repair their ships and, after setting up a banquet on the beach, are swarmed by harpies. The half-woman, half-bird monsters tear apart the Trojans food, so Aeneas snaps to action: 'To arms!' I command the men, / 'wage all-out war against this brutal crew' (3.283-284)! Unfortunately for Aeneas, he does not know that the harpies are also Furies, the ministers of divine retribution. Once attacked, the harpies fly off back to their nests, but not before their leader, Celaeno, perches on a rock and addresses the Trojans with a prophecy of doom: 'To Italy you will go... / but not before some terrible hunger and your attack on us / outrageous slaughter drive you to gnaw your platters with your teeth' (3.307-309)! This episode is an example of the cosmic order at work, as the human Trojans attempt to attack the divine harpies and are promptly punished for their recklessness and trying to step out of line. Aeneas and his comrades remain in their previous position on the chain, demonstrating the impossibility of climbing the ranks through strife and violence. On the other side of the coin, Prospero's take on the harpy scene shows his desire to forgive and move on, despite his overwhelming power over the nobles who wronged him. In Commented [DS3]: This is a weak transition. You need to remind the reader that there is a Harpy scene in The Tempest, and that we should read it in the context you just established. this case, Prospero represents the gods and the nobles represent Aeneas and the Trojans. Prospero conjures a banquet for the lost, starving nobles on the island, then sends Ariel in the form of a harpy to disrupt it and deliver a prophecy of his own to scare them: Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death / Can be at once, shall step by step attend / You and your ways (3.2.77-79). Up to this point, it would appear Prospero is following the same pattern as in The Aeneid, where humans have wronged the divine and must be punished. While it may be true Commented [DS4]: Awesome connection, and it makes sense in the Tillyard context. that Prospero s magic could rival even the Furies in power, he has no interest in exercising it
LaBarre 4 against his enemies in that way. Instead, Prospero includes an important notion in the last part of Ariel's otherwise-gloomy prophecy which foreshadows his coming forgiveness: Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls / Upon your heads is nothing but heart's sorrow / And a clear life ensuing (3.2.80-82). With this statement, Prospero tells the nobles, although they are Commented [DS5]: Ariel? driven temporarily mad by Ariel and do not understand, that before leaving the island they will go through hardships but eventually the slate will be wiped clean. In the play s resolution, Prospero follows through with his convictions, forgives the nobles who wronged him, and, in doing so, moves up in the cosmic order. Once Prospero s plans come to fruition and he has collected all of his enemies under his roof, he has complete control over them and their fate is in his hands. However, instead of succumbing to his desire for revenge and exercising his divine powers, as the harpies did when they cursed Aeneas, Prospero makes the bold and honorable move of renouncing his magic and greeting his enemies face-to-face as a friend: Behold, sir King, / The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero.... I embrace thy body; / And to thee and thy company I bid / A hearty welcome (5.1.107-110). He then proceeds to forgive each corrupt noble one-by-one, saving his brother Antonio, the bitterest transgressor and the hardest to forgive, for last: For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know Thou must restore. (5.1.129-133) Prospero relinquishes control and allows himself to be vulnerable to those who have harmed
LaBarre 5 him and could easily harm him again. According to the cosmic order, a god would never surrender their power in order to forgive the transgressions of an inferior being. For Prospero, though, it is only through this forgiveness that he can regain the power he once had and also prove himself to be better than the strict gods of the natural order. If this hierarchy were truly static, there would be no room for compromise, which is exactly what makes Prospero s turning Commented [DS6]: I think you re missing an important divine or cosmic context here: Christianity. the other cheek so impressive. Ultimately, Prospero is able to overcome his negative emotions towards the nobles and forgive them, and by doing so he elevates his standing in the cosmic order. The Aeneid s harpy scene illustrates a typical machination of the natural order, where the divine punishes the human for attempting to usurp power through violence. Conversely, in The Tempest, Prospero uses the harpy as a simple scare tactic, and he even includes a brief message of hope and mercy at the end of the harpy s prophecy. Instead of punishing his enemies, as the order expects and demands, Prospero absolves them and shows that, with a little forgiveness, everyone can climb the chain and be greater than they were before. Commented [DS7]: One crucial piece is missing here: that Prospero s cosmic hierarchy is a Christian one, and therefore must include provisions for mercy. This observation might give your overall argument about mercy a bit more teeth and give you more to say about the harpy scene than it was a simple scare tactic.
LaBarre 6 Works Cited Shakespeare, William. The Tempest. The Tempest: A Case Study in Critical Controversy. Ed. Gerald Graff & James Phelan. 2 nd ed. New York: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2009. 10-88. Print. Tillyard, E.M.W. The Elizabethan World Picture. The Tempest: A Case Study in Critical Controversy. Ed. Gerald Graff & James Phelan. 2 nd ed. New York: Bedford/St. Martin s, 2009. 168-180. Print. Virgil. The Aeneid. Trans. Robert Fagles. New York: Penguin, 2008. Print.