Like a sculpture carved in low relief, the intrigue of the Tempest is depicted on a stone in relief, but the substance of the story depends entirely on a realm of negative space. To grasp the gender discourse present in Shakespeare's play, one must appreciate the space that exists between surfaces and substrates in both the plot and the characters. In the sunken, dark, and overlooked regions of the text, audiences can find moments that outline the discussion of gender identity, particularly female. In their nuances, Miranda's interactions with the other men on the island help reveal Shakespeare's vision of the “proper relationship” between men and women. Close examination of both Miranda's silence and her speech reveals a woman whose inner content often escapes casual readers. The essential panorama of his character is of a dual nature: now submissive, now dynamic, at the same time obedient and rebellious. At first glance, she embodies Goethe's vision of the "Eternal Feminine", a Cypher whose dull, empty purity has "nothing to do with explosions" or "meaningful actions". Soon, however, the cautious reader recognizes that Miranda's upbringing, essentially isolated (and untouched by female authority), to some extent unaffected by the push of 17th-century standards and customs, allowed her to acquire a certain “generative power” capable of subverting traditional masculine design and male expectations of femininity. There are, for attentive readers, powerful moments in the text where Miranda is as brazenly assertive as her male counterparts - and these instances are in stark relief to the more docile, tamed behavior that fulfills the initial perception of her as a "good wife - child." During those powerful moments, it is almost as if he has forgotten his goals, as the effectiveness of his subversion depends on his cautious and reserved flavor. In her careful and calculated obedience to Prospero, we see that Miranda is a woman who threatens institutional norms by telling Emily Dickinson's “truth”: what she says has invisible connotations, “oblique” meanings that hold real, active, and unexpected power. In her surprisingly egalitarian romantic relationships with Ferdinand, we see how Shakespeare's vision makes that “truthful” technique superfluous. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Our first meeting with Miranda occurs in Act I, scene two: she is the first to speak, appalled by the idea of ​​drowning travelers at the hands of her scheming father. She declares that if she had been "a god of power," she would have "sunk the sea" to save the men on King Alonso's ship (I.ii.9-11). This is where we first notice Miranda's “active” imagination. He imagines he has power comparable to his father's, but knows it's impractical. She has come to believe that these faculties are beyond her abilities, yet hints of a desire for influence lie in her noble dream of sinking the sea itself. When Prospero orders it to be "gathered" (I.ii.14), keep quiet, we realize his subordinate status and discover when he says "you are ignorant of what you are" (I.ii.17 ) that this status depends on the fact who ignores his past and the female presence in his early years of life. Despite daydreams of action and influence, Miranda knows her "place," and in the next line we learn her method of simultaneously fulfilling and transcending that role. When he states: "Knowledge has never interfered with my thoughts", we must note the passive tone and submissive attitude which simply serve as a disguise for intentions that are anything but passive andsubmissive. You often started to tell me what I am, but stopped. ,And left me to a useless inquisition,Concluding: 'Stay, not yet” (I.ii.33-36)The passive tone in which he promises, "More to know never intruded upon my thoughts", almost paradoxically, it belongs to the same active and curious voice that one moment later complains about "useless inquisitions". Even in her attempt to learn about herself and her story, Miranda is subject to her father's choice to tell her or leave her in the dark. As articulated in Richard Stoddard's "A Woman's Poem", male actors shape and mold the female world, framing the very reality of the woman, placing her within the confines of “four blind walls” that calculate her value and determine her potential. Despite this imprisonment (or perhaps because of it), Miranda knows that she has a responsibility to "play [her part]" (Gilbert and Gubar, 813) and appease her father. In their essay "The Madwoman in the Attic", Gilbert and Gubar delve into the "angel/monster" topic, theorizing that "even positive images of women in literature express negative energies and desires on the part of male writers" (Rivkin and Ryan, 812). Miranda is simultaneously "angel" and "monster", supposedly possessing "unhealthy energies and powerful, dangerous arts", abilities that allow her to play a role. Act. To be sure, she does this quite masterfully: when Prospero explains how they came to live on the island, he repeatedly, belligerently and unnecessarily asks her if she's listening, shouting "you're not participating!" (I.ii.82). She responds coldly with lines such as "Thy tale, sir, would cure deafness" (I.ii.106), refuting his statement and at the same time complimenting his gravity. She desperately wants to know herself and her sexuality, and is willing to please and sweeten herself to achieve those ends. As the king in Shakespeare's King Lear states of his daughters, women appear to be good above the waist ("up to the waist"), but beyond that point, their sex, their very femininity, and their genitals make them "all gods." demons.” Using female expectations to their advantage, these women play on the “male gaze.” Thus, they gain agency that men would never willingly grant them. Through a kind of subversive subordination, Miranda can be what she wants expects from her, fulfilling Prospero's expectations of a maid and daughter, while also giving herself space to ask questions and assert her own opinions. As Shakespeare suggests in the play's writing, intelligent women evade the oppression placed upon them After all, it is in “Circcuit” that the “success” lies. A particularly clear articulation of Miranda's duplicity can be found in William Hogarth's scene from The Tempest. More importantly, though, this image helps delineate the landscape of Miranda's sexuality. Surrounded on all sides by male figures, Miranda sits on a throne-like structure draped in blood-red cloth as Prospero, Caliban, and Ferdinand look on. Miranda herself is wrapped in a blue and white dress traditionally symbolic of the purity, chastity and innocence of the Virgin Mary. Upon closer inspection, however, the painting retains a certain delicate sensuality: Miranda's presence exudes an air of eroticism that manifests itself in details such as the subtle display of her breasts. Interestingly, as Ferdinand approaches from the left corner, she looks in his direction, dropping a cup of milk intended for her pet lamb – another obvious symbol of innocence and virginity. Distracted by the presence of an attractive male, it's almost as if she forgets to take care of that innocence. This painting isinteresting because, like Shakespeare's work, it alludes to Miranda's dual spirit and sexuality. At the same time, his robes are painted blue and white, his flesh - namely his nipple - is partially exposed, and while we know he once cared for his "pet lamb", it appears that the energy sexual aroused by Ferdinand steals his attention. Miranda's sexuality can easily go unnoticed in The Tempest. Our first encounter with this force occurs in the second half of Act I, scene two, when the audience is first introduced to Caliban. Prospero is scolding his slave-monster for trying to "violate the honor" (I.ii.349) of his daughter, when Caliban responds indignantly, saying that if the rape had occurred, he might "populate another island with Caliban". The next moment was a point of contention in 19th- and 20th-century theater, because the fury with which Miranda intervenes was often considered unusual to those who imagine her character as a flimsy maiden. As Judith Halberstam writes in her essay “Female Masculinity”, female strength, agency and assertiveness are “generally perceived by hetero and homonormative cultures as a pathological sign of misidentification and maladjustment, as a desire to be and have candies". this is always out of reach. It is for this reason that historically this speech has been reassigned to Prospero; although Shakespeare must have wanted Miranda to give this speech, critics felt that her conviction and resolve were too much for one woman to bear. Abhorred slave... I pitied you, I took the trouble to make you speak, I taught you every hour, one this or the other. When you, savage, did not know your meaning, but stammered like a very brutal thing, I endowed your purposes with words that made them known (I.ii.350-57, emphasis added). This passage is fascinating because Shakespeare references Miranda's role as an educator on the island. She teaches Caliban the language before he knows its "proper meaning," a phrase reminiscent of Prospero's earlier line: "Thou art ignorant of what thou art." In the social hierarchy of Shakespeare's island, a woman has more power and influence than a quasi-male slave like Caliban. She pities him, teaches him something, and then feels comfortable relentlessly asserting her anger and resentment at being forced to engage in sexual activity against her will. Because she is more linguistically adept than Caliban, she is able to “endow” his “purposes with words that made them known” (I.ii.356-57); Miranda gives Caliban the meaning of his “male gaze” and his sexual impulses. The only obstacle to Miranda's "power" is Prospero's ability to perform magic. In Act I, scene two, he uses his powers to put her to sleep, limiting her freedom of action with "a good dullness" (I.ii.86) which renders her incapable of decision in the situation that arises next: Ferdinand , who is also, importantly, under a spell, enters the scene, and both he and Miranda are entranced by each other. Since both characters are fascinated by and unable to channel their organic motivations, the relationship that develops between them must be a reflection of what Shakespeare imagined the ideal man and woman in love to be. The relationship between Miranda and Ferdinand belongs to Prospero, but more specifically to Shakespeare; he is the scriptor-sorcerer who dictates the nature of their bond. The arranged marriage between the two lovers is very different from Gayle Rubin's “Traffic in Women,” a “systematic social apparatus that uses women as raw material and shapes domesticated women as products.” Although historically Prospero's machination, 1998.