Colonial Subjects in Shakespeare's Tempest and Behn's Oroonoko

Introduction: Nonwhite Subjects in Early British Literature

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, individuals of Black ancestry or from non-European contexts were often portrayed in British literature, as seen in works such as The Tempest (1610–1611) by William Shakespeare and Oroonoko, or The Royal Slave (1688) by Aphra Behn. Nonwhite individuals were symbolically significant even in the works of white European authors. However, their portrayals were not always thematically consistent in a positive or negative way. What remained consistent was that nonwhite individuals were portrayed as "the other" — that is, as non-Christian, non-European, and visually distinct from the intended audience.

This paper examines the view of the nonwhite, colonial subject in both texts: one which validates enslavement and subjugation (in the case of The Tempest), and one which attempts to articulate antiracist ideas (Oroonoko). It also argues that Behn's gendered position as a woman author lends additional credibility to her validation of the title character as noble rather than threatening. Behn's work has been called the "first literary abolitionist text" by scholar Moira Ferguson — one in which the narrator "admires Oroonoko's heroic stance against slavery and deplores his punishment when captured," even though the text is somewhat ambivalent as an anti-colonialist work (Ferguson 339).

The Tempest and the Good and Bad Servant

In The Tempest, nonwhite or colonial subjects are represented only obliquely. More importantly, the play's central hero and fundamental dramatic conflict revolve around Prospero — an exiled duke who has taught himself magic from books. The play depicts a tropical island with native inhabitants, but frames them within the conceit of a magical fairytale world rather than one subjugated by actual political acts of colonialism. The magical Prospero is clearly European, and his presence on the island results from involuntary exile rather than a desire for colonial enrichment. Characters such as his servant Ariel and the island-born Caliban represent different facets of the island's character, but they are portrayed only insofar as they reflect upon Prospero's essential struggle: to return to civilization and rehabilitate his reputation. They are not treated as subjects worthy of attention in their own right. While Caliban and Ariel do articulate their own points of view, their perspectives remain peripheral to Prospero's personal drama.

The character of Ariel illustrates the play's notion of the "good" colonial subject. Ariel occasionally asks Prospero for freedom, but Prospero grants it only when convenient for himself. When Ariel makes such requests, Prospero reminds him that it was he who rescued Ariel from imprisonment by Caliban's mother, the evil witch Sycorax. The implication is that Prospero's need to restore himself to power outweighs Ariel's desire for liberty. Even though Ariel is ultimately freed, the text suggests that exposure to Prospero's authority has improved Ariel's situation compared to what it was under Sycorax.

Caliban: Stereotype and Subjugation

At least one of the island's inhabitants — Caliban — embodies many of the stereotypes Europeans held of nonwhite, non-European individuals at the time. He is ugly, inarticulate, and violent. This is evident in one of the play's first extended scenes, when Prospero calls upon Caliban despite his daughter Miranda's expressed fear. Prospero points out that Caliban is necessary to serve as their slave, providing wood and fire. Prospero uses the language of slavery explicitly and unapologetically, addressing Caliban directly as a slave.

Caliban is said to have lacked language until Prospero taught him words. According to Caliban himself, spitting at Prospero: "You taught me language; and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse" (I.2, 362–363). On a basic level, this claim is implausible — Caliban and his mother Sycorax must have communicated before Prospero's arrival. The play treats the absence of English as synonymous with the absence of language altogether, and Caliban is never shown mastering language in the approved sense — that is, refraining from cursing.

Caliban is also explicitly said to have menaced Miranda and attempted to rape her, confirming the stereotype that non-Europeans are bestial and sexually threatening toward European women. Caliban does not deny this. Prospero says to him: "Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee / In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate / The honour of my child" (I.2, 347–349). Caliban responds almost gleefully that he would have happily "peopled" the island with "little Calibans" (I.2, 349–350). Despite his possessive claim that the island is rightfully his, Caliban quickly falls under the spell of two lower-class English men, who ply him with drink and whom he vows to worship as gods. The implication is that the island's native inhabitants are incapable of self-governance and instinctively seek out white authority figures.

Only at the very end of the play does Caliban soberly repent of this folly: "What a thrice-double ass / Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, / And worship this dull fool!" (V.1, 296–298). It might be argued that The Tempest is not inherently pro-colonial because it is set in a fantasyland where magic is real. But even in fantasy, displacing concerns about colonialism into a relatively harmless magical struggle denies the very real suffering experienced by actual victims of colonization. In the play, slavery does no material harm. Even when Caliban appears to suffer physically from his bondage, Prospero asserts he deserves it — and the audience is invited to identify with Prospero, not Caliban.

Behn and the Noble Savage

In contrast, Aphra Behn's Oroonoko explicitly frames itself as realistic, even though it is fictionalized. Though the text does not meet contemporary standards distinguishing fiction from historical testimony, it offers a far more direct acknowledgment of the suffering generated by colonization. The very first words of the text announce: "I do not pretend, in giving you the history of this royal slave, to entertain my reader with adventures of a feign'd hero, whose life and fortunes fancy may manage at the poet's pleasure" (Behn 147).

Behn's story is set in the West Indies and colonial America — actual, physical locations known to her audience — where colonial subjects were kept in bondage. The opening section, set before the noble Black prince Oroonoko is enslaved, depicts a non-Christian, non-European world possessing its own cultural integrity and beauty, which is then disrupted by European attempts to persecute nonwhites and profit from slavery: "religion wou'd here but destroy that tranquillity they possess by ignorance; and laws wou'd but teach 'em to know offence, of which now they have no notion" (Behn 149–150). Although Behn uses the word "ignorance," the context is not pejorative; the implication is that Europeans should have left native subjects to their own ways rather than colonizing and enslaving them.

In contrast to Caliban's relatively light servitude — carrying wood and making fires, and only imposed as punishment after his assault on Miranda — slavery in Behn's story is explicitly for European economic enrichment, specifically the labor of sugar plantations. While Caliban is portrayed as hideous, the female European narrator of Oroonoko describes the prince as beautiful: "The whole proportion and air of his face was so nobly and exactly form'd, that bating his colour, there could be nothing in nature more beautiful, agreeable and handsome" (Behn 154). Behn explicitly challenges the European assumption that associates fairness of complexion with nobility. Writing as a woman, she also offers personal testimony that contests common colonial assumptions about innate native savagery — a contrast that stands in sharp relief against Shakespeare's pairing of Caliban's darkness with slavery and his violent desire for the fair European Miranda.

Oroonoko is portrayed as a so-called noble savage, embodying virtuous qualities despite the prejudices of those around him. He also possesses sensitivity and spiritual depth. The story centers on a romance: the West African prince is deeply in love with the beautiful Imoinda. Imoinda is sold into slavery, and Oroonoko is captured by slave traders. After they are reunited, Oroonoko attempts to incite a slave rebellion, which fails. He then kills his beloved — in accordance with a pact made between them — and is subsequently tortured and executed for his actions. Before his death, he exhorts his fellow enslaved people to secure their own liberty. In themes that would echo throughout later slave narratives, Oroonoko and Imoinda are also shown grieving when she becomes pregnant, because of the difficulty of securing freedom for three rather than two people.

Conclusion

Still, in considering Behn's text in relationship to Shakespeare's, the radicalism of her vision is striking, as is her willingness to question colonialism, the assumption of innate Black inferiority, and the idea that nonwhite and non-Christian cultures must be reformed. It is Oroonoko's struggle that stands at the center of Behn's narrative, and the author draws attention to herself chiefly in her capacity as a writer bearing witness — not as a subject within the drama. In Shakespeare's play, by contrast, the conflicts of the Europeans and the romance of the younger white characters take precedence over either Ariel or Caliban's freedom. Slavery in The Tempest is depicted as relatively benign and ultimately inconsequential. Behn's story, in contrast, ends tragically, with Oroonoko achieving a moral victory over his captors even as he is condemned to death — a conclusion that refuses to let the violence of slavery go unexamined.

Works Cited

Behn, Aphra. Oroonoko: or The History of the Royal Slave. 1688. https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/behn001oroo01_01/behn001oroo01_01.pdf

Ferguson, Moira. "Oroonoko: Birth of a Paradigm." New Literary History, vol. 23, no. 2, 1992, pp. 339–59. JSTOR, Accessed 27 May 2022.

Shakespeare, William. The Tempest. Project Gutenberg. 1610–1611. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/23042/23042-h/23042-h.htm