The practice of theatrically adapting Shakespeare's works has been popular for nearly four hundred years (Fischlin and Fortier 1); the highest moments of appropriation were the Restoration and the second half of the twentieth century. Recent adaptations often adapt his works to fit other mediums, such as film or novel. Fischlin and Fortier point out that “adaptations. . . they often attempt to recontextualize Shakespeare politically” (5). According to Terence Hawkes, the meaning attributed to a text at a certain moment in time is always ideologically dependent and contextualized by history and occasion; therefore, it is impossible to assign it a final, context-independent truth or meaning (1-10). Placing Hawkes's notion of context-dependence of meaning in the area of adaptation studies suggests that every adaptation, in this case of Shakespeare, creates its own meaning by reworking the original text in a new context. Shakespeare's works lend themselves so well to the purpose of adaptation or appropriation because of the gaps he left; his works often exclude motivations or depth of character, making it tempting for adapters to attempt to fill these gaps, often to impose a certain perspective. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay In most of Shakespeare's plays, the female characters are rather flat; their motivations are vague or non-existent and appear to exist solely to help men achieve their goals or serve as motivation. A curious theme seems to be the absence of mothers: “mothers are conspicuously absent from The Tempest, King Lear, Othello, The Merchant of Venice and Measure for Measure. Even more surprising is that in the six most famous romantic comedies (Love's Labour's Lost, The Taming of the Shrew, A Midsummer Night's Dream, As You Like It, Much Ado About Nothing and Twelfth Night) no mother appears at all" ( Rose 292).) The feminism or gender angle has been used in many adaptations; Paula Vogel's Desdemona: A Play About a Handkerchief, for example, recontextualizes Othello to draw attention to the role of women. The main and only characters who dialogue and appear on stage are Desdemona, Emilia and Bianca, female characters who appear rather flat in the original work; Desdemona is Othello's obedient wife, a lady of the 'upper class; Emilia is her very faithful servant to her husband Iago; and Bianca is a prostitute Shakespearean” (234). In Vogel's work, although they occupy the same positions in society, these women are more complete and dynamic characters; they manage to express their desires and motivations, in some ways opposite to those of their namesakes in Shakespeare's work: Bianca wants to get married and settle down, Emilia is an astute but naive woman who above all wants to climb the social ladder (even if this would require death of her husband) and Desdemona replaces Bianca on Tuesday evenings, enjoying the freedom of being a prostitute and fantasizing about traveling the world. Another example of reworking a Shakespeare play to impose a feminist perspective is Lear's Daughters by Elaine Feinstein and the Women's Theater Group: written as a prequel to the original play, this play attempts to explain why Cordelia opposes her father and Regan and Gonerill are revealed to be so evil, describing the hardships they faced in their youth at the hands of their evil father. Place the blame for their development on the shoulders of King Lear, turning him into a violent, adulterous andwith incestuous tendencies, he justifies his daughters' future behavior to some extent. Women are brought to the forefront of the story and given background, a more developed personality, and clear motivations for their actions. The Tempest, one of Shakespeare's last plays, tells the story of Prospero, the former Duke of Milan. His brother Antonio envied his position and conspired with Alonso, king of Naples, to remove Prospero, sending him and his daughter Miranda out to sea on a raft; they survive and end up on a desert island, thanks to the charity of Gonzalo who brings them supplies and Prospero's magic books. They remain on the island for twelve years, which time Prospero uses to enslave both a spirit called Ariel and a native named Caliban. When a boat carrying his enemies and their associates appears in the vicinity of the island, Prospero unleashes a storm to force them off the ship and strategically scatters his enemies and acquaintances on the island to execute his complicated plan to retake his position previous. The only females featured in the show are Miranda, Claribel, and Sycorax, who are heavily outnumbered by ten males. Furthermore, the last two of these three women appear only briefly in the description, and therefore have no dialogue: Claribel is Alonso's daughter, recently married to the prince of Tunis; His character's sole purpose is to serve as fodder for disparaging comments towards Alonso for selling out the kingdom, as well as explaining why Alonso, Ferdinand, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Stephano, and Trinculo are on a boat near the Prospero's house. island. Sycorax, an evil witch who was banished to the island, died several years before the story of The Tempest begins. She is Caliban's mother and has imprisoned Ariel in a tree; he serves as an opposing character for Prospero, contrasting his darkness with his white magic, and serves as justification for Caliban to claim ownership of the island. Prospero also constantly reminds Ariel of Sycorax's cruel treatment to maintain the spirit's service. Both women exist to motivate and justify the actions of men; Sycorax also makes Prospero and Miranda look good in comparison. Miranda has a larger role as the only woman with dialogue. However, she appears to be simply a piece on Prospero's political chessboard: “Like Caliban, Miranda has been "colonized and deceived" and exists only "as the other part of man, his denied, abused and hidden part. She has been constantly the embodiment of a nonculture”” (Feral qtd. in Donaldson 68). Miranda is used by her father to restore her position, causing her and Ferdinand, the Prince of Naples, to fall in love: “Her motivation for arranging the marriage.” of Ferdinand and Miranda is not to arrange his daughter's happiness, but her own safety" ( Flaherty 146). Even protecting Miranda from Caliban's rape is not an action done out of love or care: “His primary concern as a father is keep Miranda's virginity intact at all costs attempt to rape Miranda is "I had peopled the island of Calibani" (1.2.503-4); it seems that possessing Miranda is equivalent to regaining possession of the Island. Therefore, Miranda is established as a subjugated territory that can be won or claimed (Flaherty 170). As in many of Shakespeare's plays, women are not fully realized characters in The Tempest, ensuring a perfect gap for appropriation. In Julie Taymor's The Tempest, a 2010 film adaptation of the work, the issue of female underrepresentation is addressed by castingby Hellen Mirren. like the female Prospera. By changing the sex of the protagonist, Prospero's oppression also symbolizes female oppression and sexism: Prospera, ex-wife of the Duke of Milan, is accused of killing her husband with witchcraft and sent away only because she is a woman. The translation of The Tempest from paper to screen offers new possibilities for conveying emotion, and the film uses this opportunity to stage a new dynamic between Miranda and her parents. Both Propero and Prospera state “I have done nothing but care for you, my dear, you, my daughter” (1.2.104), but considering the development of the plot Prospero does not seem authentic. Prospera's words seem more believable because of the way she looks at Miranda as she says these words, staring into her daughter's eyes as she touches the back of her (Taymor) neck. Where Prospero treats Miranda primarily as a political object that he can use to get what he wants, Prospera appears to have genuine affection for his daughter: several times in the film he shows her caressing or looking at Miranda affectionately. Taymor states that Prospera "had her whole life taken away because she was a woman" (Breznican), and she wants to save her daughter from the same fate. Prospera's gender can also be interpreted as a way to make her powers seem even more impressive; a woman who traps a group of men on an island, takes revenge, and manages to get her life back commands more respect than a man who does the same thing, especially in those times. Ariel's part hasn't changed; however, the dubious nature of their gender is emphasized by blurring their genitals and showing them with and without breasts at different times. Aside from the radical change regarding Prospero's gender, Taymor's film remains relatively faithful to the original work; the dialogue consists mostly of the play's original lines, while the added lines are still in Shakespearean style. The plot undergoes other changes, but all relatively minor from a feminist point of view: the masque is replaced by Ferdinand's song and Prospero's epilogue is omitted. Taymor's adaptation tries to remain faithful to the original work in many respects, and the protagonist's gender change does not carry with it a critical message towards Shakespeare: the director states "I wanted to do it because there are actresses like Helen Mirren who never get to play these fantastic parts because they weren't written for women" (Breznican). Wanting to give actresses the chance to play male roles can be interpreted as a feminist motivation, but it appears that it was not Taymor's direct intention to give the film itself a feminist undertone. He previously adapted Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus to the screen in his film Titus, implying that his appropriations are a case of idolatry or an attempt to exploit the Bard's cultural legacy. Margaret Atwood's Hag-Seed is much more liberal with materials borrowed from Shakespeare: the novel is a metafictional work containing a fictional stage production of The Tempest as well as a plot that, to some extent, imitates the plot of The Tempest. The protagonist, Felix, is a well-known theater director. His wife died after giving birth and meningitis proved fatal for his three-year-old daughter Miranda, but memories of Miranda haunt him every day. Felix is planning a production of The Tempest; however, after an unsuspecting act of betrayal, he is removed from office and decides to spend the rest of his life in exile. After twelve years, Felix has the opportunity to teach a theater class in a nearby prison; he accepts the job under a false name and after several years has the opportunity to take revenge on the men who destroyed his career. Appropriately,a production of The Tempest is used as a trap in which to trap his enemies. In both layers of the plot, the figure of Miranda is identified and exalted by Atwood. Felix's life outside the prison theater, which will henceforth be referred to as the main plot, does not feature a living Miranda; instead, it lingers in his life as a spirit. Felix is consumed by grief; his first attempt to stage The Tempest is motivated by Miranda's premature death: “immediately after the funeral. . . he had dived into the Tempest. It was an escape. . . but it also had to be a sort of reincarnation. Miranda would become the daughter who was not lost” (Atwood 15). Felix plans to play Prospero himself to complete the imagery: at least in the play, he would be able to protect his daughter. The show becomes an unhealthy obsession for him, because "inside the enchanted bubble he was creating, his Miranda would live again" (17). As his life in exile progresses, Felix begins to imagine Miranda how she would grow old, a practice that quickly turns into a half-belief that she is actually there with him. He begins to see her and converse with her, but keeps reminding himself that she isn't actually real. Having Miranda in this way is helpful to Felix: she “gently scolds him when he doesn't eat enough” (46), warns him not to get tired, encourages him to eat more vegetables, and he finds a conversation partner in her. By killing her, Atwood paradoxically gives her greater importance in the story. The affection of Felix or Prospero in the main plot towards Miranda is emphasized. Interestingly, Atwood merges the characters of Ariel and Miranda by making her a spirit. When Felix leaves a copy of The Tempest lying around, Miranda finds it and insists on playing Miranda, but Felix forbids it; when she decides to replace Ariel, however, he supports her: “She has found the one part that will allow her to fit in perfectly during rehearsals. Only he will be able to see her from time to time. Only he will hear it. It will be invisible to everyone else. "My brave spirit!" cries” (180). The use of language mimics that of Shakespeare's work: "invisible to every other eye" (1.2.443-4) and "my spirit brave!" (1.2.326) are literal quotes, both directed at Ariel in the original work. In the performance of the show with the prisoners, Miranda is actually present and her voice can also be heard by others. He suggests his lines and carries the action forward. At the end of the novel, Felix realizes that he must let go of the past: “What was he thinking – keeping her tied to him all this time? Forcing her to do his bidding? How selfish that was! Yes, he loves her: his darling, his only daughter. But he knows what she really wants and what he owes her. “Be free to the elements,” he tells her. And, finally, it is” (Atwood 283). Once again, a direct quote from the original work is used to set Miranda/Ariel free. Giving the role of Ariel – which is of crucial importance in Shakespeare's work – to Miranda gives her a bigger and more important role to play in Atwood's story. Miranda is placed front and center as a key motivator of the novel's main plot, from beginning to end. The novel's metafictional subplot, the staging of The Tempest by the inmates Felix works with, also features a Miranda. The inmates who will play the actors are all male, but Felix decides to hire an actress – Anne-Marie Greenland, the same one he had chosen for his previous production – to play the part. Although there are some doubts about the risk of a woman performing with condemned prisoners, she manages to impress and direct them without any problems. Once again, Felix casts himself in the role of Prospero. Anne-Marie has a.
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