While Caliban stands out as the figure most associated with Cesaire’s adaptation of Shakespeare, I found his use of Prospero and a conqueror and slave master equally fascinating. In his opening scene, Prospero finds comfort in his “books and instruments,” clear signs of European civilization or “whiteness,” in the “disgusting place,” which he nevertheless wishes to own and possess for his own sake. Even when Prospero openly criticizes the land and calls its natives beasts, he feels compelled to bring his white perspective and bring it out of what he supposes to be filth, according to his own conceptions of civility. His claims to Ariel that he’ll have his desired freedom “when I’m good and ready” also show this extreme narcissism and self-importance seen in our previous discussions of colorism and “readiness.” Because Ariel is lighter skinned and does not wish to resort to violence as Caliban does, Prospero looks slightly more kindly upon Ariel, despite his continued efforts to form them to his own conceptions of humanity and proper behavior, acting as a “white savior” to these people he deems to be sub-human until he can correct them or wipe them out.
Once Caliban enters the scene, Prospero’s instincts truly emerge, feeling threatened by Caliban because of his darker skin suggesting his “never-readiness” to enter the world of Prospero and his preference of violence and direct activism to counteract the oppressive tactics of the white slaver. Prospero again shows his need to impart his white ways upon the black natives when he criticizes Caliban “mumbling his native language again,” as if he can no longer act as he is accustomed to in his own land after Prospero has come in with the intent to whitewash or destroy the natives and their culture to promote the spreading of his own perceived civility. And even when Prospero does pass on pieces of knowledge and culture, Caliban points out that they are only things which can barely harm the authority of the white imperialist, keeping science and higher ideals deliberately from the natives so as to maintain his own dominance over them. As a result, Caliban effectively weaponizes the English language, one of the few things Prospero has passed to him besides instruction on slavery, to use it against his captor. Yet, Prospero disregards this clear sign of humanity and intelligence in Caliban, who even knows more languages than his colonizer, and resorts to the use of violence to keep Caliban under his thumb, subtly indicating to the audience that perhaps these harsh practices reveal the beast within Prospero and Caliban’s rejection and embracing of humanity show his higher status.
In the ending scene of the play, Prospero has this status ripped from him, as he decides to stay with Caliban, valuing his apparent imperialism over leaving the island. In this way, Prospero has allowed imperialism to corrupt him, as he is consumed by the desire to control and rule over others in a foreign land than to return to his own. With the script flipped. Caliban now becomes the master in a sense, gaining his land back for himself where he can thrive, while Prospero struggles to maintain his crumbling “civilization” on the island. Once he must fend for himself, Prospero realizes he is doomed, “Have to think about making a fire,” at which point he finally begins to think of Caliban as his companion and equal when he cannot live on his own. Unable to “let [his] work perish,” Prospero loses his power when his illusion of empire fails, while Caliban is able to survive by his own means, showing that native peoples, both within the work and the real world, are able to persist and survive without the interference and “advancements” of white civilization. As Caliban ends the work celebrating his freedom, Cesaire delegitimizes any notion of the “white savior” while the former conqueror Prospero freezes and starves and the native Caliban is able to reclaim his former way of life.