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A Review of "The Tempest" (In Five Acts)

With Apologies to Bill Shakespeare

PROLOGUE: My House

In order to complete an assignment for my writing class, I have to do a piece on a topic unfamiliar to me. After searching most of the house, I head for the kitchen, where a dark brown set of Britannicas has taken up residence. From these I can pull out a volume at random and flip through its pages until I find something that catches my fancy.

Problem is, I can't seem to locate the books. After a few minutes my wife reminds me that I moved the "150 pounds of knowledge" out to the garage, months earlier.

Too far to walk, I remain in the kitchen and resume the search. After perusing row upon row of books, I come across a thick volume titled "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare." My first inclination is to forget I ever saw it, and move on. But then I get to thinking

If ever there's been a closed book in my life, it's the Bard's writings. Aside from a few attempts at Romeo and Juliet, back in the day, I have made it a practice to steer clear of Bill's work. Sure, Im probably missing out on some good times, but I also know how demoralizing it is to read page after page of a play, only to stop 20 minutes later and realize I don't know what the hell is going on.

The cast of characters might as well be from Mars, their speaking manner and words completely foreign to me, the medieval settings impossible to relate to or visualize.

From the little I've learned about Shakespeare's plays, the only thing that ever caught my interest was the open-air theatres. It must have been great to be able to come and go from the performances, the only thing not allowed inside being that goat or ox one had just purchased at Ye Olde Saturday's Market. In my case, I'd be carrying an ample supply of produce for those "slow" sections of the play, where audience input- or output, as the case may be- tended to accelerate a struggling actor's exit from the stage. That was the great thing about those amphitheatres: equal projectile access to the stage from just about anywhere in the audience- though for accuracy, nothing could beat those balconies.

Taking a deep breath, I open the tome and begin searching for just the right play.

ACT I.
Scene I: At the Kitchen Table

After much consideration, I choose to tackle "The Tempest," not out of any preference for comedy over tragedy or history, but because it's the first play in the book. Easy to find, it will allow me to get right to the task at hand- and though

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