![[prospero's books]](prosb06.jpg "maybe milton read more")
So Miranda is 14 years old (in the play) and raised on a desert island full a faeries,
which would trust me spin out any attempted reading of Mr. David Hume, and Prospero he's
described as being "in the liberal arts without peer"... In Northern Italy. At the height of
the Renaissance.
Will throw that out there for the feminists. For the poco popo this: Caliban can be read as a feral child, a Casper Werner as much as if not more than the archetypal constructed Other (the argument has gone that, since witches are the European equivalent of say the Dalit or the Eta, historically speaking, that he and Miranda are both rendered untouchable by virtue of their respective parent's traffic in the black arts, and are therefore supremely well matched for one another in the marry me wise).
Bear in mind too, when the First Americans came down from North America to her southern sister, they did so over the dead bodies of certain Australian aborigines who, too impatient to wait for the ice to melt, had sailed over the Pacific centuries prior.
And I got $500 for this paper I wrote on The Tempest (the play), about plot not identity implications, and it was all spozed to go to this big ol keg a Guinness, but that didn't happen. Guinness takes a Guinness-specific (or Guinness Stout-specific, Harp and Kalibre both being Guinness, despite the latter's not being beer) tap, so that nitrogen may be infused, so that the head might be creamy yummy smooth, and eastgate, being fuckwad cunt clot sons of bitches, refused to a) get the tap, or b) inform us they refused.
Jarmann did a Tempest but I haven't seen it. If you turn the sound off on his Blue it is, swear to 上帝, the longest movie in the world. But fuck that, when there's Forbidden Planet waiting to be rented.