The Tempest

I’ve chosen to present The Tempest as the final play in the canon. Regardless of when it was composed (certainly close to the end of Shakespeare’s career), The Tempest is the heart’s favourite for the gracious bow at the end of the performance. Its themes of reconciliation, forgiveness, and the ascent of a younger generation, place it among the works of a writer seasoned by time and the wiser for it. The play’s brevity and wonderfully flourishing language also point to a master of his craft, comfortable with both concision and well-placed invention. The Tempest centres around a wizard named Prospero and his daughter, Miranda. They have lived on a secluded island since Prospero left the world behind when Miranda was a toddler. All hell breaks lose when Prospero conjures a storm and there’s a shipwreck of outsiders! Think of a vastly superior, shorter, and more satisfying version of the TV show LOST. In theatre school, I was in two different productions of The Tempest; in the first, I played a 17-year old Prospero to a supporting cast of 7-year-olds, and in the second, I played multiple roles in a park under the setting summer sun. So as we take leave of the Shakespeare canon, we look to Miranda’s words: ‘O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in’t!’