By Monday morning Felix has recovered his confidence. He must proceed as if everything is unfolding as it usually does with a Fletcher Correctional Players production. This week he’ll help the class explore the main characters, as a prelude to casting them. Now that the troublesome matter of Ariel and Miranda has been dealt with, there shouldn’t be much difficulty over the others, except for Caliban. Caliban is bound to raise uncomfortable issues.
As for his other enterprise, the secret one, he must keep the thread tight in his grasp. He must follow it forward into darkness. Whatever the form the thing assumes, it will depend on exact timing. This is his last chance. It’s his only chance. To vindicate himself, to restore his name, to rub their noses in it—the noses of his foes. If he misses it, his fortunes will ever after droop. They’ve been droopy enough as it is.
He can’t back off, he can’t hesitate. He needs to sustain the momentum.
Everything depends on his will.
—
“How’s it going, Mr. Duke?” Dylan asks as Felix passes through the security check.
“All’s well so far,” says Felix cheerfully.
“Who’s playing the fairy?” says Madison.
“It’s not a fairy,” says Felix.
“Really?”
“Trust me on that,” says Felix. “By the way, next week I’m bringing in a guest actor—a very distinguished actress, actually. Her name is Anne-Marie Greenland. She’ll be playing the female part in the play. Miranda.”
“Yeah, we heard,” says Madison. The grapevine is highly active inside
Fletcher Correctional, at least on some matters; or perhaps it’s the surveillance system. Gossip spreads like the flu. “We’re looking forward, eh?” He grins.
“She got clearance?” says Dylan.
“Of course,” says Felix with more authority than he feels. Estelle has arranged that for him. It was a tight squeeze—there were some objections—but Estelle knows which strings to pull and which egos to massage. “I hope that everyone here—the staff—I hope you’ll be welcoming to her.”
“She’ll need to wear a security pager,” says Dylan. “The actress, or whatever.
We’ll show her how to use it. In case of difficulties.” Their curiosity is palpable: they’d like to ask for more details about this girl, but they’re not about to betray themselves by showing too much enthusiasm. Should Felix throw them a crumb, tell them about the freely available YouTube video of Anne-Marie making lasagna out of her two male dancing partners? Better not, he decides.
“There won’t be any difficulties,” he says, “but that’s very kind of you.”
“No problem, Mr. Duke,” says Dylan.
“We aim to please,” says Madison.
“You can count on us. Enjoy your day, Mr. Duke,” says Dylan. “Merde!”
“Merde, eh?” says Madison. He gives Felix two thumbs-up.
—
“The whole play takes place on an island,” says Felix, standing beside his whiteboard. “But what kind of island is it? Is it magic in itself? We never really know. It’s different for each one of the people who’s landed on it. Some of them fear it, some of them want to control it. Some of them just want to get away from it.
“The first person to set foot on it is Caliban’s mother, Sycorax, said to be a loathsome witch. She dies before the play begins, but not before Caliban is born on the island. He grows up on it, and he’s the only one who really likes it. When Caliban is a young boy, Prospero is kind to him, but then sex gets in the way and Caliban loses it and gets locked up. After that he’s afraid of Prospero and his imps and goblins because they torment him. But he’s never afraid of the island.
In turn, it sometimes plays sweet music to him.”
He writes CALIBAN on the whiteboard.
“There’s another character who’s been there as long as Sycorax, but he’s not a human. That would be Ariel. What does he think about the island? We don’t
know. He’s in charge of creating illusions on it, but he’s only doing what he’s
told.”
Under CALIBAN he writes ARIEL.
“The next ones to come to the island are Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan, and baby Miranda, who have been set adrift in a leaky boat by Prospero’s wicked brother, Antonio. They’re lucky they landed there because otherwise they would have starved or drowned. But they have to live in a cave and there aren’t any other people, except Caliban, so Prospero’s main aim is to get himself and Miranda off the island and back to Milan as fast as possible. He wants his old position back, he wants his daughter well married, and he can’t have any of that if he stays on the island. Miranda herself is neutral on the subject. She hasn’t known anything else, so she’s fine with the island until an alternative arrives.”
PROS & MIR, he writes.
“Then, after twelve years have passed, a number of others wash up as the result of a tempest staged by Prospero and Ariel. The tempest is an illusion, but they’re convinced by it: they think they’ve been shipwrecked. For Alonso, the King of Naples, the island is a place of sorrow and loss, because he believes his son, Ferdinand, has been drowned offshore.
“For King Alonso’s brother, Sebastian, and Prospero’s evil brother, Antonio, the island is a place of opportunity: it seems to give them the occasion to murder Alonso and his councillor, Gonzalo, after which Sebastian would inherit the kingdom of Naples—not that he has the least idea about how he’s going to get himself back there. These two think the island is a barren place, without any charm.
“Gonzalo, the elderly, well-meaning councillor, thinks the island is rich and fertile. He amuses himself by describing the ideal kingdom he’d set up on it, in which all the citizens would be equal and virtuous, and none would have to do any work. The others make fun of his vision.
“All of these men are thinking mostly about ruling and rulers. Who should rule, and how. Who should have power, how they should get it, and how they should use it.”
Felix writes ALON, GON, ANT, SEB, and draws a line under them.
“The next character is very different. He’s Ferdinand, son of Alonso. Since he swam ashore to a different part of the island, he believes his father has drowned.
As he’s mourning his loss, Ariel lures him away with music. At first he thinks the island is magic; then, when he sees Miranda, he initially thinks she’s a
goddess. When he hears that she’s a human girl and unmarried into the bargain, he falls in love with her at first sight and proposes to marry her. So his island is a place of wonder, and then of romantic love.”
Felix writes FERD, draws another line.
“At the bottom of the heap come Stephano and Trinculo,” he says. “They’re fools. Also they’re drunk. Like Antonio and Sebastian, they see the island as a place of opportunity. They want to exploit the gullible Caliban by making him their servant; they even consider exhibiting him as a freak or selling him, once they get back to civilization. But they’re quite ready to add theft, murder, and rape to their repertoire. Get rid of Prospero, Caliban tells them, and the island will be their kingdom, with Miranda thrown in as a bonus.
“They too are concerned with who should rule, and how; they’re comic versions of Antonio and Sebastian. Or you might say that Antonio and Sebastian
are fools in better clothing.”
STEPH & TRINC, he writes.
He pauses, looks out over the room: no hostility, but no real enthusiasm either.
They’re watching him. “Maybe the island really is magic,” he says. “Maybe it’s a kind of mirror: each one sees in it a reflection of his inner self. Maybe it brings out who you really are. Maybe it’s a place where you’re supposed to learn something. But what is each one of these people supposed to learn? And do they learn it?”
He draws a double line under his list. “So,” he says. “Those are the main characters. Write them down in that order, all except Prospero and Miranda—I’ll be playing Prospero, and you know who’s playing Miranda. Then write a number beside each of those names, from zero to ten. Ten means you’d really like to play that character; zero means you have zero interest in it. Consider whether you think you can do a good job of the part. For instance, it would help for Ferdinand to be reasonably young, just as Gonzalo should be reasonably old.
“Between now and the time I cast the parts, we’ll be reading some speeches.
After we’ve done that, you might change your mind about your preferred character. If so, feel free to scratch the number out and write a new one in.”
They all set to work; there’s the laborious creaking of pencils.
Is the island magic? Felix asks himself. The island is many things, but among them is something he hasn’t mentioned: the island is a theatre. Prospero is a director. He’s putting on a play, within which there’s another play. If his magic holds and his play is successful, he’ll get his heart’s desire. But if he fails…
“He won’t fail,” Felix says. A few heads come up, a few stares are directed his way. Has he said that out loud? Is he talking to himself?
Watch that tendency, he tells himself. You don’t want them to think you’re on drugs.
