Neptune has shown that many cultural nationalists were suspicious of
the encroachments of American mass culture, and the American presence, through
wartime occupation, on the Trinidadian populace; Neptune, Caliban and the Yankees,
66 Marson, Moth and the Star, p. 87.
67 Honor Ford-Smith, ‘Making White Ladies: Race, Gender and the Production of
Identities in Late Colonial Jamaica’, Resources for Feminist Research 23 (2005), p. 55.
68 Marson, Moth and the Star, p. 88.
70 Jarrett-Macauley, Una Marson. p. 8.
71 Ibid., pp. 1–9.
vital leap in
Shakespeare’s lifelong effort to beggar power with weakness. As
Ryan avers, ‘It redefines ending well as unending endeavour. It
puts us on stage to make the fairy tale come true.’ 37 Shakespeare has a
theologically loaded word for this impossibility. Repeatedly he calls
the dispensation ‘grace’ [ 1,1,75; 1,3,206; 2,1,159;
4,5,15; 5,2,38 ]; the redemptive state which Caliban seeks
and V. M. Vaughan, Shakespeare’s
Caliban: A Cultural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1991 ), pp.
The links are discussed by J. Dean in ‘The
Sick Hero Reborn: Two Versions of the Philoctetes Myth’,
Comparative Literature Studies , 17.3 ( 1980
-Saxon fenland (Oxford: Windgather, 2017).
Quoted by E. Mansel Sympson, Lincolnshire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1913), p. 54; William Shakespeare, King Lear , Act II, scene iv, line 162. On Shakespeare's knowledge and deployment of the fens in his dramas, see Todd Andrew Borlik, ‘Caliban and the fen demons of Lincolnshire: the Englishness of Shakespeare's Tempest ’, Shakespeare , 9 (2013), 21
these two forms of racism, namely against Arabs and against Jews’. 7 ‘The study of Orientalism’, he continues:
must also include an analysis of anti-Semitism. In the West, the negative view of Islam is part of a larger hostility towards Semitic cultures. If Caliban represents one formative figure in the evolution of European notions of Otherness, Shylock in The Merchant of Venice presents another. There has been a general anti-Semitism in Europe, in which antagonism to Jews has often accompanied hostility to Muslims … There are in fact two discourses of
cultural and political developments of the time, already articulated by
the Caimán group at the 1968 Congress and gaining strength amongst
Latin American intellectuals by 1971.
In this context, the vexed question of how to define the revolutionary intellectual, eloquently argued in Fernández Retamar’s essay
Calibán (Fernández Retamar, 1980; Abreu Arcia, 2007: 143–54), became
especially important. Published just months after the Congress, in
Issue 68 of Casa de las Américas (September–October 1971), it shed
different light on the caso, outlining the temptation
political efforts to assimilate or
segregate the colonial Other are portrayed as an accepted social goal, but one
that is also resisted as well. Saint-Pierre, for example, acknowledges slavery as a
fact of life on Mauritius; he makes a slave couple the childhood companions of
Paul and Virginia. Similarly, in Daniel Deronda, Eliot’s characters debate the aftermath of the 1865 uprisings in Jamaica, and she allows her character Grandcourt
to declare, ‘the Jamaican negro was a beastly sort of baptist Caliban’.63 In each
novel, the authors’ protagonists discover their ‘true
Shakespeare Riots: Revenge, Drama, and Death in NineteenthCentury America (London, 2007), pp. xxi, 257, 259ff.
112 Monika Smialkowska, ‘An Englishman in New York? Celebrating Shakespeare
in America, 1916’, in Bueltmann, Gleeson and MacRaild (eds), Locating the
English Diaspora, pp. 205–21.
113 New York Times, 4 July 1909.
114 Percy MacKaye, Caliban by the Yellow Sands (New York, 1916), quoted in
Smialkowska, ‘Englishman in New York?’, p. 205.
115 Milkwaukee Sentinel, 24 November 1961. This is not, however, true: twelve
years earlier, the English of Montreal had held
Inquisition by Lucifer, who again is represented as black: ‘A
swarthy darkness spread itself over his gigantic form’ (p. 356).
The price of Ambrosio’s freedom, in exchange for his soul, is
couched in the language of slavery: ‘Answer but
“Yes!” and Lucifer is your slave’ (p. 357). In
Lewis’ poem, prefaced with an extract from The Tempest ,
the Caliban figure is consumed with lust for the fair, white
apartheid, the book rejoices in his
failure to fit the stereotypical role demanded of him by racist white
South Africa: ‘if I am a freak, it should not be interpreted as a
failure of their education for a Caliban, but a miscalculation of
history’ (Modisane 1963 : 179). Yet
Modisane’s book is principally about the ways in which apartheid
sought to eradicate history, especially the history of black culture