Miranda (The Tempest)

The Tempest interprets Miranda as a living representation of female virtue. Miranda is typically viewed as having believed herself to be subordinate towards her father. She is loving, kind, and compassionate as well as obedient to her father and is described as "perfect and peerless, created of every creature's best".[5] She is, furthermore, the only female character within a cast of strong male figures, and much of her interaction on stage is dominated by the male figures around her. Miranda's behaviour is typically seen as completely dictated by Prospero, from her interactions with Caliban to her ultimate decision to marry Ferdinand. The traits that make her the pinnacle of femininity are her innocence and vulnerability, and these traits allow her to be readily manipulated first by her father then Ferdinand.

However, some critics argue that those same "feminine" traits enable her to be a strong female presence with important effects on the play's outcome. Throughout the course of the play, Miranda acts as a foil to Prospero's more violent instincts and serves as a sounding board to move the play's plot further. She is also a central figure in her father's revenge, enabling Prospero to gain political prestige through her marriage to the Prince of Naples, Ferdinand. Furthermore, while Miranda is very much subservient to Prospero's power, some critics argue that her obedience is a conscious choice.[6] Miranda proves herself willing to challenge Prospero's power, first by calling into question his treatment of the shipwrecked sailors and then defying his commandment to have nothing to do with Prince Ferdinand.

Miranda, watching the storm (1888), by Frederick Goodall

Her decision to pursue a relationship with Ferdinand is also interpreted by critics as an indication that her marriage to him is more than a simple political match. Miranda makes a very clear decision to seek out Ferdinand and offer her assistance, all the while worrying that her father will discover them. She is also the one to abandon traditional concepts of Elizabethan modesty by ardently stating her love for Ferdinand, proclaiming that "I am your wife, if you will marry me; / If not, I'll die your maid".[7]

Critics also argue that Miranda's feminine presence is essential to the central theme of the play.[8] Miranda's influence is what dulls the worst of her father's anger; Prospero cites her as being his reason for living after their initial banishment and he informs her that everything he does is "in care" of her. Michael Neill argues that Miranda's function on the Island is that of a Christ-figure—that she is the indicator of a given character's moral status within the social hierarchy of the island and that she also serves to protect the ethical code of the Island's inhabitants and visitors. Caliban, whom she rejects, is shown to be a monstrous figure, while Ferdinand—whom she embraces—is saved by her presence, her sympathy lightening the "baseness" of his given task. Critic Melissa Sanchez analyses Miranda in a similar light, discussing her as a representation of an "angelic—but passive—soul "caught in the conflict between enlightenment and base desire (represented by Prospero and Caliban).[9]

Critic Lorie Leininger argues that Miranda fits into the colonialist interpretation of The Tempest in that Prospero's use of Miranda as an unwitting player in his political revenge is expressive of the play's sexist attitude towards women.[10] Leininger equates that the sexist attitudes displayed towards Miranda are equitable to the undercurrents of racism shown in the treatment of Caliban. She states that Prospero's treatment of Miranda is in essence the same as his treatment of Caliban, describing his attitude towards both as indicative of their subjugation within the social hierarchy of the Island.

Leininger also argues that Miranda's sexualisation is a weapon used against her by her father, stating that Prospero uses Caliban's attempted assault and Ferdinand's romantic overtures to marginalise her, simplifying her into a personification of chastity. In Leininger's analysis, Caliban is treated in a similar fashion, forced into the role of an uncivilised savage without heed for his individual needs and desires—much in the same way that Miranda is expected to marry Ferdinand and reject Caliban's advances simply because her father wishes it.[11]

Critic Jessica Slights creates claims that although many declare that Miranda only reflects the image of an obedient and subservient woman; she argues Miranda's character is independent. Miranda's upbringing shapes her character and the view of the world around her. She is not confined to social constructs as she did not grow up within a conventional society. This leads Miranda to view the world without preconceived ideas. Prospero is the main guardian in her life, but she developed personality traits such as kind-heartedness that are, as many describe, distinct in comparison to Prospero’s. In addition, she challenged the rules of traditional courtship when she pursued Ferdinand.

What I desire to give; and much less take

What I shall die to want. But this is trifling,

And all the more it seeks to hide itself,

The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning,

And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!

I am your wife, if you will marry me;

If not, I’ll die your maid. To be your fellow

You may deny me, but I’ll be your servant,

Whether you will or no.[12]

Miranda's first interaction with Ferdinand was a revelation for her view on men besides Prospero. Having another person in her life shifted her attention away from Prospero, as she became aware of what she wanted out her life. This moment separates her past life to the life Miranda expects for the future. This was an opportunity that let her too not only to express her sexuality, but to also reclaim her independence.[13]

While The Tempest is frequently analysed from postcolonial angles as a reaction to European colonialism in the early modern era, Miranda does not make an appearance in the majority of such analyses. As the play's only female character, Miranda functions mostly as a representation of women instead of a representation of a colonised group. Lorie Leininger, discussed in the previous section, argues that Miranda is part of a group subjugated by colonialism due to her gender, but as far as direct connections to European colonisation overseas, Miranda does not connect directly to the majority of postcolonial analyses.[14]

However, Miranda can be interpreted as an allegory for the softer side of colonialism, portraying the more "missionary" aspect of colonisation attempts, in that she tries to educate Caliban instead of treating him as a sub-human citizen like her father seems keen to. She also displays far more sympathy to the shipwrecked Prince Ferdinand than her father does, and is eager to make his stay on the island as comfortable as possible. Her attitude towards the discovered peoples as well as the newly discovered castaway sharply contrasts her father's inclination to conquer and destroy, painting her not only as a compassionate figure but as one sympathetic to the colonial plight.