A Look at the Role of Caliban Within Shakespeare's The Tempest

Scathing critique of the imperialistic mentality of the British Empire or summarized doctrine regarding a belief in the Great Chain of Being. Regardless of interpretation, it is very difficult to argue that, "The Tempest" does not stand out amongst all of Shakespeare's works for a host and variety of reasons, not the least of which is the importance of the character of Caliban within the contextual framework of the play. By all rights, this should be a secondary character within this piece... nothing more than a vehicle to aid an assist with the movement and growth of the play's main characters.

Yet, based on the style and depth of the oration that the character has been gifted with, as well as the pivotal role that he plays within the piece, it is hard to imagine Caliban playing the proverbial second fiddle to any of the Bard's other characters... be they in this play, or any other for that matter. To that end, and with that in mind, we will look at the role and the function of the character of Caliban and attempt to determine his true level of significance, both within the confines of, "The Tempest" and on a more grand scale as a form of social commentary about the state of the British Empire.

To begin, we must first look at the character himself and his positioning within the play. Caliban is introduced to the audience as one of theoretically lesser descent in terms of the Great Chain of Being. He is of different complexion, savage nature, ill temperament, and prone to outbursts of baser passions. Add to that his physical deformities, which as we have seen previously in pieces such as Richard III, at the time was considered to be an obvious sign of mental ills and imperfection as well, and it should have been clear to any viewer that this character was most certainly a lesser to the likes of fair and wise and noble Prospero.

So, how then can it be that when the character begins to speak and give discourse, that Shakespeare saw fit to grace him with such a seemingly pure and noble voice. Yes, that can be no doubt that his speech patterns and actual oration was rough and crass at times... but it is not at all difficult to see beyond the harsh exterior to the plight of the character that resides within.

It is made very clear from the beginning that there is more to the character of Caliban than initially might meet the eye. There is a depth to the character that we have rarely seen out of any other supporting character throughout the sum and body of Shakespeare's work. Never before have we been graced with so much insight or back-story to a character who should, by all rights, serve as little more than comic relief. Yet, unlike the bumbling Malvolio of, "Twelfth Night," there seems to be little true humor in the somewhat sad situation that Caliban has been thrust into. In this, Shakespeare seems to diverge from the classical formulae of the Comedy and the Tragedy.

By all rights, one seeking a position outside of their normal caste, such as we see with Caliban, should be a sign to the audience that they should be finding the humor within this situation. But one cannot help wonder if levity was what Shakespeare had in mind at all when putting pen to paper in regards to this play. Granted, some of the more traditional conventions that have been seen in his previous works are still present, which becomes especially obvious in terms of the characters of Stephano and Trinculo, and of course in the eventual marriage of Ferdinand and Miranda.

Yet, even with all of those bailiwicks firmly set into place, "The Tempest" seems to lack the tone or mood of any of Shakespeare previous Comedies, and again, the reason for this change of mood seems to stem from and revolve around the character of Caliban.

By the nature of the character, Caliban should play the part of the disgruntled and delusional "straight man," so to speak. We should see his struggle as laughable and absurd. His actions, though full of self important arrogance, should have little real impact on the world or the characters around him. Yet, again, unlike with characters such as Malvolio, Caliban's actions seem to be almost as core to the piece as the plot regarding Prospero and his brother, Antonio. It is made clear to us that without Caliban's aid and assistance, it is unlikely that Prospero and Miranda would have been able to survive their early days upon this island. In this, he becomes vital to the overall tale, and thus deviates from the previously seen structure that his role should otherwise denote.

This also becomes readily apparent in the nature of the character's dialogue. Once again, the lines and language used by Malvolio was full of double meanings and sly asides from the author, meant to keep the audience in stitches and to leave the character looking like a buffoon for so unwittingly making jokes and puns at his own expense. We see nothing of this nature or device from Caliban. His oration seems crafted to draw a much deeper connection with the audience. Yes, he is rough. Yes, he is unrefined. But, then too, so is nature and in a sense, that is truly what Caliban is... a force of nature.

So, with that in mind, then the question becomes, why would Shakespeare has so willingly broken from the convention that he had spent so long and worked so hard into putting into place. This diversion seems to fly in the face of all of his past works and any precedent he had set prior to penning this piece. The only thought that readily comes to mind is that this must then speak again to the other convention to which all of Shakespeare's works seem to hold in common... which is the matter of masked social commentary. This work was written at the arguable height of British imperialism and colonialism, and the overtones that are so pervasive throughout the play seem to fairly scream to this fact.

Through the character of Caliban, Shakespeare takes no pause in setting forth for the audience the fact that this island and all that was on it once belonged to his mother and himself, and that he still feels that it is rightly theirs. He pulls no punches in describing the duplicitous manner in which Prospero came to be in possession of these lands and the underhanded manner in which this theoretically good and noble gentleman purported and handled himself in these dealings. In a sense, Shakespeare seems to be offering up both Caliban and Prospero to the audience and to the readers and asking of them to decided which one is truly the savage. Is it based simply and solely on appearance and breeding, or is there in fact something within each of us individually that makes that determination and thus ultimately leaves us responsible for ourselves.

By this, it would seem then that Shakespeare is also offering up a critique on the British Empire as a whole. Be it their treatment of the Irish or the Scots there on the isles themselves, or ranging further abroad to India or the so call New World. Perhaps this was Shakespeare's manner of asking his audiences to consider the true implications of this manner of expansion and the repercussions and ramifications that it would have on those so many times brutally and bloodily affected in the name of Queen and Country. Shakespeare himself had seen his religion driven forth like these supposed savages and had been forced to bear witness to the grizzly aftermath that was left in the wake of the Protestant movement. Therefore it is not hard to see the correlations between these two forms of governmental oppression and thus see why Shakespeare might view the means by which the Empire was expanding in a less than charitable light.

Of course, always being wise enough to protect himself and his family, at the end of the piece Shakespeare made sure to set things right, so to speak. By this he made sure that the treasonous Caliban was taught the error of his misguided ways and suffered punishment and humiliation for his variety of misdeeds. Yet, can this really be viewed as little more than lip service tossed in for the benefit of the censors and to spare himself the wrath that would befall him had he not been certain to respect the Great Chain of Being?

One cannot help but note that, however, by this point in the play, the seeds of discontent and the blossoming bulbs of questioning have already been sown within the fertile minds of the viewers. Putting a neat and tidy ending to all of this seems to be a very fine veneer, meant to gloss over the nearly treasonous material that had already been brought to light earlier in the piece. And all of this, put forth and brought to life by what should have been, by all rights, a secondary character who should have played no greater role that that of comic relief.