Examine the ways in which Shakespeare and Morrison both use slavery as a means of voicing their perspectives on imperialism.

‘This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak’st from me.’   (I.ii.332-3)

 - his unfair mistreatment by Prospero becomes clear and it appears that Shakespeare is enforcing the idea that the imperial power is unjust and undeserved.

Interestingly, Delvin observes that through Prospero ‘Shakespeare depicts, with almost prophetic insight, the history of the white man’s attitude to indigenous populations in the colonies.’

However, after reading the two texts, I became increasingly aware of a perplexing disengagement between the two attitudes towards slavery. As we have seen already, on the surface both texts portray the practice of slavery as base and immoral. Throughout the reading, I felt that Shakespeare’s objection to slavery was far less compelling than that of Morrison. The primary explanation I found for this actuality is the differing position of the two authors. Although later I will go on to examine this idea in greater detail, it is clear to see at this stage that Shakespeare is not representing slavery in the direct, historically-based sense in which Morrison is. Furthermore, although the notions of authority and usurpation, which poise the questions of the morality of slavery are present in the text, the mythological setting and comic ending of the play indicate that the playwright may not have been purposely protesting against the idea of slavery in any sustained way. In fact, it is true to say that the idea of slavery in The Tempest finds its roots in more contemporary criticism – again, like Morrison, those critics are examining the notion of slavery from a more historically-based perspective.

However, to further query Shakespeare’s stance on slavery, I have turned to Said’s theory of human experience in relation to postcolonial literatures.

Said conjectures that if you are not actually a member of the colonised group you are dealing with, you cannot express their experiences wholly - a theory appropriately in-fitting with DuBois’ notion of the lack of understanding between the whites and blacks: ‘and neither world though the other world’s thought, save with a vague unrest.’ There is a degree of separation between those of differing cultures and thus, according to Said, the handling of slavery by Shakespeare as a member of the imperialistic group means that he ‘will denote the different experience of others to a lesser status.’ This would suggest that Shakespeare’s portrayal of slavery through Caliban is not only less effectual than the portrayal of slavery by Morrison, but is actively undermining further the position of the slave – enforcing imperialistic principles.

        Many aspects of the play do support this theory, most particularly the physical appearance of Caliban. In the cast list, he is described by Shakespeare as ‘a savage and deformed slave’ and later on it is also alleged by Prospero that he is ‘A devil, a born devil’ (IV.i.197). Therefore, if Prospero is seen as Shakespeare’s mouthpiece, this immediately suggests that the playwright is aiming to enforce the notion that he is inhuman upon the reader. There is, however, room for dispute here, as it is not at all clear that Prospero is meant to be the mouthpiece for Shakespeare. Prospero detests Caliban, and as such, if we were hearing the authorial voice through his character, the audience would despise Caliban equally as much. This is simply not the case, however, as although we acknowledge Caliban’s coarseness, we also appreciate the fact that he has reason to be bitter towards Prospero. Additionally, we recognise a degree of decency in his character, as he has never been unfaithful to his god Setebos and his love for the island is evident through his use of beautiful language. This can be seen when he speaks of his island, reminding Prospero that he has shown him:

‘…all the qualities o’th’isle,

The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.’ (I.ii.336-8)

Nevertheless, the gruesome portrayal of Caliban, that would have been defended by Prospero, has clearly been adopted by the readers as his character has, for instance, been played in theatrical productions in a costume ‘half monkey, half coco-nut.’ 

The monstrous characteristics of Caliban are most strongly portrayed by Shakespeare through the attribution of guilt that he attaches to him. It is unquestionable that he has attempted to ‘violate / The honour’ of Miranda and when he replies to Prospero’s accusation with no remorse:

‘Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

The isle with Calibans.’    (I.ii.352-3)

- his crude and depraved nature prevails. Shakespeare effectively prevents the audience from feeling any sympathy for Caliban at this stage and, as such, this insinuates that Said’s theory is true and Shakespeare sees Caliban – and thus slaves – as lesser beings.

Indeed, it could be suggested that Shakespeare saw colonised people, epitomised through the character of Caliban, as ‘the other’- ‘that which is unfamiliar and extraneous to a dominant subjectivity, the opposite or negative against which an authority is defined.’ Shakespeare is, therefore, deliberately juxtaposing Caliban’s ‘otherness’ and lack of civility with the refinement of the Europeans that arrive on the island. If, of course, this is the case, then Shakespeare appears to be using the system of slavery as a means of enforcing his belief in the acceptability of imperialism.

In absolute comparison, however, Morrison presents the colonial discourse from the perspective of the black slaves – derived from her very roots and thus stands at the opposite end of Said’s theory to Shakespeare. We are compelled, quite rightly, to see the suppressed characters in the novel as human beings. When we hear Paul D talk about Halle, who was helpless to protect his family, he defends him saying:

‘A man ain’t a goddamn ax. Chopping, hacking busting

every goddamn minute of the day. Things get to him.

Things he can’t chop down because they’re inside.’

The tree imagery employed by Paul D gives a profound sense of the absolute lack of control felt by the slaves. They were helpless to stop the tree of frustration and anguish from forming inside them. Furthermore, we can see that Halle’s fundamental role as the man of the family has been stolen away from him – not only has he lost his independence, but he has been deprived of his masculinity. This absolute degradation of human beings highlights the vicious and cruel nature of slavery and when in an interview Morrison talked of her African origins, claiming:

“We are people, not aliens. We live, we love, and we die”

 - we see that she is enforcing the notion of full acceptance of the black community alongside the white imperialists.

Morrison’s authorial voice shines through the text clearly, whereas in The Tempest the narrative has no authorial voice as such. Consequently, Shakespeare’s audience is left to fathom what his stance on slavery was – if indeed he had one at all. Subsequently, it can be concluded that the impact of the cruelty of slavery and the negative portrayal of imperialism in Beloved is more effective than that in The Tempest.

In order to account for these apparent differences of opinion between the two authors there are many factors that can be taken into account. As we have already identified, Morrison is writing from a colonised viewpoint, whereas Shakespeare is writing from a coloniser’s perspective. However, there are other important factors that create the divide in stance between the two authors.

It is interesting to look further at the authorial intent behind the works and contextual issues that influenced the writers. As we have already seen, the differences in narrative form create a gulf between the apparent objectives of the two authors. It is clear that in Beloved Morrison’s authorial voice is dispelling slavery by presenting the history of the slave trade through the eyes of the colonised African Americans. Her avid intent to convey the true horrors of the slave trade can be seen through her recognition that traditional slave narratives always ‘drew a veil’ over the shocking and painful incidents of their past, pleading that such things were too terrible to relate. Through her bold approach to the horrors of slavery, however, she instils in the reader a true sense of the cruel suppression of imperialistic world. Furthermore, she dedicates Beloved to the ‘Sixty Million and more’ slaves who died as a result of slavery and Matus suggests that by doing so she is drawing ‘overt attention to the history of slavery as a holocaust.’ 

Morrison represents slavery in a historically-based sense, shaping her fictional prose around imperialist practices that actually happened in nineteenth century America. Furthermore, according to Peach ‘the novel is loosely based on the story of Mary Garner, a slave who killed her child and attempted to kill herself rather than return to slavery.’ Through looking at the article about Garner published in the American Baptist in 1865, Morrison’s adoption of the idea becomes evident:

‘She [Margaret Garner] said that when the officers and slave-

holders came to the house in which they were concealed, she

caught a shovel and struck two of her children on the head, and

she took a knife and cut the throat of the third, and tried to kill the

other – that if they had given her time, she would have killed them

all – that with regard to herself, she cared but little; but she was

unwilling to have her children suffer as she had done.

I inquired if she was not excited almost to madness when she

committed the act. No, she replied, I was as cool as I now am; and

would much rather kill them at once, and thus end their sufferings,

than have them taken back to slavery, and be murdered by piecemeal.’

The discernible parallel between Morrison’s fiction and the historical reality of slavery makes Beloved particularly disturbing and fulfils Morrison’s obvious intention of highlighting the cruelty of the slave trade and the decadence of colonisation.

It is also clear that through this portrayal of slavery, Morrison is reaching out to tackle more contemporary issues. Slavery clearly stemmed from the misguided imperialistic belief in the superiority of the Europeans and in effect, this attitude amounts to the racism that still prevails in society today. Morrison clearly acknowledges this discrimination against her race and other minority groups:

‘There is some notion out in the land that there are black

people or Indians or some other marginal group, and if

you write about the world from that point of view, somehow

it is considered lesser.’ 

The vicious circle created by such bigotry becomes clear when we see that in Beloved, as in real life, although the end of slavery signals the beginning of decolonisation and freedom for African Americans (like Sethe in the free black community), their identity continues to be defined by slavery’s colonial identity. The unforgotten past is a major feature of Beloved, epitomised through Sethe’s rememories and the haunting of the house. Baby Suggs believes that the house is haunted by ‘a negro’s grief,’ of course, and this indicates the continuing legacy of imperialistic oppression and racial discrimination.

Therefore, it can be deemed that Beloved acts as a means of drawing modern day issues of racism to attention and it could be suggested that in this way Morrison is striving to educate her readers, as she clearly acknowledges the fact that ‘black literature is taught as sociology, as tolerance…’ Morrison prudently suggests that we should be learning from the atrocities of the past and not be continuing to make the same mistakes.

In The Tempest it is far more challenging to identify Shakespeare’s exact intention through the creation of Caliban. He is not writing with the same historical awareness as Morrison and it is more difficult to locate any authorial voice. As I suggested earlier, it could be suggested that Prospero is Shakespeare’s mouthpiece, in which case Shakespeare’s abhorrence of differing ethnic groups would be seen explicitly through Prospero’s detestation of Caliban.

Furthermore, if we refer back to Said’s theory, it could be suggested that through creating Caliban, he is actively supporting imperialism and highlighting the inferiority of such ‘savages.’ This was seemingly a perspective adopted and enforced by critics for many years after and John Dryden’s commentary captures this fact:

         ‘He seems to have created a person which was not in

nature, a boldness which, at first sight, would appear

intolerable; for he makes him a species of himself, begotten

by an incubus on a witch; but this, as I have elsewhere proved,

is not wholly beyond the bounds of credibility…’ (1979)

Dryden sees Caliban as ‘a person’ and effectively says these ‘monstrous’ and unnatural qualities are known to exist in people. This comment is likely to be a direct reference to the discovery of the Americas and the debates over the position of the colonisers and natives at that time.

Delvin also locates the play in this period of new discovery, claiming:

‘it has been virtually impossible for any reader or audience

from Shakespeare’s time onwards to dissociate the dramatic

situation from the discovery of the New World and the

colonisation of the New Americas.’

Therefore, it is certainly more appealing to suggest that Shakespeare created the mythical island, complete with the native Caliban, as a forum in which to dramatise discussions of the period.

Conclusively, it would appear that suggesting that Shakespeare created Caliban merely as tool to voice his prejudice and insular views is far too simplistic an analysis of his position. This estimation is also seemingly unjust, since the ‘free and open’ (I.iii.398) hero in Othello is the black moor, of course. Shakespeare’s recurrent use of characters, which would be classed as ‘the other’ in postcolonial theory, suggests a deep fascination with the contextual issues of the day. Within The Tempest, the mutual fascination that Caliban and Prospero originally had for one another is clear:

                         Cal.                     ‘When thou cam’st first,

Though strok’st me, and made much of me

    …and then I lov’d thee’  (I.ii.333-8)

 - and this could be considered symbolic of Shakespeare’s intrigue in the indigenous populations in the rising British colonies.

 Therefore, rather than deeming Shakespeare’s creation of such an ‘abhorred slave’ as a reflection of his prejudices, it more obviously demonstrates his curiosity and interest in the ‘brave new world’.

To culminate the discussion, it is clear to see that a contemporary reader can derive much insight from postcolonial texts such as Beloved and The Tempest. Irrespective of the author’s conscious literary objective, moral teachings regarding the impact of slavery and imperialism upon society are manifest from today’s perspective. Furthermore, these ideas continue to be relevant in the world today, with prejudices and racial discrimination still in existence. Through providing the reader with such insight into slavery, whether on a realistic or mythological level, it can only be hoped that such education will expel the legacy of the imperialistic world and DuBois’ consciousness of the misapprehension between races –  ‘neither world thought the other world’s thought’ – will be a complaint of the past.  

Bibliography:

1. Ashcroft, Bill; Griffiths, Gareth; Tiffin, Helen. The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Postcolonial Literatures.   London: Routledge. 1989.  pp. 1-13.

2. Boehmer, Elleke. Colonial and Postcolonial Literature.   Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1995.

3. Brotton, Jerry. “This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage” IN Post-Colonial Shakespeares. ed.Loomba, Ania; ed. Orkin, Martin.   London: Routledge. 1998. pp. 23-43.

4. Delvin, Diana. “Caliban – monster, servant, king” IN Critical Essays on the Tempest. William Shakespeare. ed. Cookson, Linda; ed. Loughrey, Bryan.   Glasgow:Longman Group UK Ltd. 1988. pp.20-30.

5. Dussere, Erik. “Accounting for Slavery: Economic Narratives in Morrison and Faulkner.” Modern Fiction Studies 47:2 (summer 2001): 329-56.

6. Grewal, Gurleen. Circles of Sorrow, Lines of Struggle: The Novels of Toni Morrison.   USA: Louisiana State University Press. 1998.

7. Grice, Helena; Hepworth, Candida; Lauret, Maria; Padget, Martin. Beginning Ethnic American Literatures.   Manchester: Manchester University Press. 2001.

8. Griffiths, Trevor R. ““This Island’s Mine”: Caliban and Colonisation.” Yearbook of English Studies 13 (1983): 159-180.

9. Ed.Honigmann, E. A. J. The Arden Shakespeare. Othello.   Surrey: Arden Shakespeare. 1997.

10. ed. Kermode, Frank. The Arden Edition of the Works of William Shakespeare: The Tempest.   Surrey: Arden Shakespeare. 1997.

11. Matus, Jill. Contemporary World Writers. Toni Morrison.   Manchester: Manchester University Press. 1998.

12. Morrison, Toni. Beloved.   London: Vintage. 1997.

13. ed. Palmer, D. J. Shakespeare. The Tempest.   London: Macmillan Press. 1991.

14. Patterson, Orlando. Slavery and Social Death.   Cambridge, Mass. 1982.

15. Peach, Linden. Macmillan Modern Novelists. Toni Morrison.   London: Macmillan Press Ltd. 1995.

16. Said, Edward W. “Discrepant Experiences” IN Postcolonial Discourses: An Anthology. ed Castle, Gregory.   Oxford: Blackwell. 2001.  pp. 26-37.

17. ed. Taylor-Guthrie, Danielle. Conversations with Toni Morrison.   Jackson: University Press of Mississippi. 1994.

Websites:

     -   citing: “The Pain of Being Black” – an interview with Toni Morrison. TIME magazine. May 22nd, 1989.

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