So I love love love Margaret Atwood. I've never read something she wrote that I didn't like. But I was a little nervous going into this one, because I have not actually ever read the original The Tempest, so I wasn't sure what to expect or if I would get all the intricacies. Well, I should not have worried. While I cannot say for sure that I caught everything she did with the retelling, all the little details, I got more than enough to respect what she was able to do and to thoroughly enjoy the retelling. Seeing the themes of prison throughout the original play, her decision to set the scene in a prison "players" group was perfect, and (while I have no direct prison experience with which to compare it) a gorgeous and truthful portrayal of the the characters you might meet in a prison. They were real people - a little scary, perhaps, but also in many cases (in a poignant social commentary) just trying to do the best with what they had in a society that gives no benefit of the doubt. It was great to see what the exposure to Shakespeare did for them, how they were able to relate to so many of the characters, and really presented a feeling of hope for the future in a general sense that was uplifting to read - as book lover, I think the power of the written word to engender empathy and to heal the reader was portrayed here in a really tangible way that I wish more people could experience. Plus some of the extra touches, like the swearing only in Shakespearean terms, was just fun to read. I smiled many a time at those passages. Felix's personal story of loss and betrayal, and the subsequent revenge he plans ans executes juxtaposes beautifully with the story of Prospero and his owns plots. The role of Felix's daughter Miranda and then Anne-Marie as the actress playing Miranda were heartbreaking in many ways, mostly through the eyes and actions of Felix as he tries to hold on to a lost love and also help a "replacement love," if you will, represented by A-M and her budding relationship with Freddie (our real life Ferdinand) by the end. The many layers there were nuanced and unfolded perfectly. And then, the hit at the end, that perhaps Felix's daughter Miranda was never our fictional Miranda, but was in fact Ariel, held in the sway of Felix/Prospero until said character was ready to let them go and move on. It was a blindside really, to me, and one that ended the story with that perfect mix of satisfaction and longing that I think every reader lives for.