Exile in Gilgamesh, The Tempest, and Things Fall Apart

Introduction: Exile as a Literary Theme

Exile can be the self-imposed banishment from one's home or a punishment imposed by others. In either case, its defining result is solitude. Exile affords those who experience it the opportunity for infinite reflection on themselves, their choices, and their lives in general. Three prominent literary characters experience exile as a central part of their respective narratives, and in doing so reveal a great deal about themselves — both to themselves and to readers.

The three works in question are The Epic of Gilgamesh, Shakespeare's The Tempest, and Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart. In each narrative, the main character's exile results from actions taken at earlier points in the story. The protagonists Gilgamesh, Prospero, and Okonkwo are all exiled because of their choices, and exile forces each character to face consequences that bring his inner character to the surface in a more direct manner than any prior experience. Though exile alienates each man from his homeland and inflicts physical and emotional pain, it also makes possible a perseverance over obstacles that enriches — or, in one case, fails to enrich — his life and reveals his true nature.

Gilgamesh: Self-Imposed Exile and the Discovery of Humanity

The first protagonist for examination is Gilgamesh. Unlike the other characters discussed here, Gilgamesh chooses exile himself — it is entirely self-imposed and undertaken of his own free will. He perceives it as both a spiritual journey and an emotional experience. Before his exile, Gilgamesh was a king with an intense selfish streak who lacked compassion for his fellow human beings. His main urge in life was to usurp power from others: "Gilgamesh was a tyrant to his people" (Mason, 15). Through the experience of friendship, however, Gilgamesh learns not only that he is capable of caring for another person but also how to act on that care. More importantly, he comes to perceive companionship and compassion as strengths rather than liabilities. The security he finds in friendship increases his self-confidence, for "Gilgamesh was certain with his friend beside him" (Mason, 31).

In exile, Gilgamesh is left alone with his grief. He is "overcome with pain" (Mason, 60) and retreats into solitude after the death of his closest friend, Enkidu. Wracked with internal anguish, he abandons the world he loves — a world full of temptations such as desire, wealth, power, and pleasure — to begin a new kind of journey. His life no longer fulfills or satisfies him; he is both bored and distraught. He embarks on his new journey hoping to seek eternal life and perhaps cheat death. In this way, Gilgamesh's journey bears some resemblance to the story of Prince Siddhartha, who left his kingdom and became the Buddha. Overall, the experience of exile proves fulfilling because Gilgamesh realizes and rejuvenates his sense of humanity, embracing emotions such as love, remorse, sadness, and ultimately acceptance.

Prospero: Forced Exile, Forgiveness, and Restored Power

The second protagonist for examination is Prospero from Shakespeare's The Tempest. Unlike Gilgamesh, Prospero does not choose exile. He is forced into it by his jealous brother, Antonio, and finds himself stranded on an island for over a decade. His only company is his daughter and two servants. Sutton argues that Prospero's situation parallels that of the Biblical figure Joseph from the book of Genesis: "Joseph and Prospero parallel each other as victims of jealous siblings" (Sutton, 225). Like Joseph, Prospero uses his time in exile to become a powerful leader in his new surroundings. As Sutton further notes, "They eventually become de facto rulers of their adopted land, using their natural abilities combined with supernatural forces to gain power" (Sutton, 225).

Just as Gilgamesh overcomes his emotional grief over the loss of his friend, Prospero overcomes his bitter feelings toward the brother who exiled him, ultimately choosing forgiveness over revenge. When the brothers finally face each other after Prospero's long exile, Prospero declares, "I do forgive / Thy rankest fault, all of them" (Shakespeare, Act V, Scene I, 151–152). Forgiveness is another quality Prospero shares with Joseph, as "both can choose from a variety of actions: seek revenge, test for signs of repentance, or offer forgiveness" (Sutton, 226). By choosing forgiveness, Prospero has his formal power restored. He frees himself of vengeful desires and restores goodness to himself, which in turn spreads to those around him. This may surprise first-time readers, since the opening of the play points heavily toward revenge — yet the true theme proves to be one of forgiveness and moving forward.

Conclusion: What Exile Reveals About Character

We all face terrible situations in our lives, and many times there is the possibility either to overcome adversity or to be consumed by it. These three narratives offer clear examples of how exile can serve as a powerful catalyst for confronting internal conflicts. Literary tradition repeatedly returns to exile as a theme precisely because its enforced solitude strips characters of their ordinary distractions and forces self-reckoning.

Gilgamesh, Prospero, and Okonkwo each demonstrate what happens when a person is removed from his homeland: exile is a painful and alienating experience, but it can also enrich a life and reveal the true character and unknown strength within. The experience of exile in The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Tempest, and Things Fall Apart assists in the revelation of each work's main plot, its central themes, and the deeper nature of its characters.

References

Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. New York: First Anchor Books Edition, 1994.

Mason, Herbert. Gilgamesh: A Verse Narrative. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2003.

Shakespeare, William. The Tempest. Ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 1994.

Sutton, Brian. "'Virtue Rather Than Vengeance': Genesis and Shakespeare's The Tempest." Explicator, Vol. 66, No. 4, pp. 224–229.