behavior. The reading sets forth a view of slavery as possibly beneficial to the person who is
enslaved, insofar as it allows that person the opportunity to learn civility. It is not a stretch to
think that slaves who had such benevolent masters may be wistful for the bygone days of
slavery after gaining their freedom. Certainly, someone accepting the view of slavery put forth
by traditional readings of The Tempest would be more apt to view a rebellious slave as one
who has betrayed his or her master, rather than as someone justifiably seeking freedom from
inhuman treatment. Insofar as these traditional readings of The Tempest allow for the
possibility of the pro-slavery views prevalent in American popular culture after the Civil War,
such readings of the play did little to affect race relations and popular culture, as those proslavery views continued unquestioned.
This began to change in the 1960s and 70s, and a visible indicator of that change in
American popular culture was the release of Alex Haley’s book Roots in 1976 and the TV
miniseries made of the book in 1977. The miniseries portrayed slavery as harsh and
inhumane, something that African-American slaves would risk death and endure serious
physical injury in order to try to escape. It was also an extremely popular miniseries, with the
final episode attracting almost 90 million viewers and becoming the most-watched television
show in this country up to that time (Van Deburg 155). The miniseries and the book on which it
was based were not without their problems. Some scholars criticized the miniseries as filtering
the African-American experience through a “white lens" in order to attract more white viewers,
and Alex Haley was accused of plagiarism and fabricating part of the book, which was
supposed to tell his family history (Van Deberg 145,155-56). Still, Roots successfully put in
front of the country a view of slavery that few other media had done, at least certainly not to as
large an audience.
At about the same time, the Caribbean and Latin America began to read the character
of Caliban in The Tempest as a symbol of their own cultural history. In his essay “Caliban:
Notes Toward a Discussion of Culture in America," published in 1969, Cuban Roberto
Fernandez Retamar wrote,
Prospero invaded the islands, killed our ancestors, enslaved Caliban, and taught
him his language to make himself understood. What else can Caliban do but use
that same language - today he has no other -- to curse him, to wish that the 'red
plague’ would fall on him? I know no other metaphor more expressive of our
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