Antigone, 4

The prophet Tiresias enters to tell off Creon.  He has seen only bad omens-- bad, bad omens.  Creon blows him off, and accuses him of faking bad news for payment.  Creon is losing all control.  So Tiresias finally lays out all his crimes and sins in one fell swoop.  1) Sentencing a mere child to death.  2) Dishonored an honorable soldier's body.  3) Defied his own flesh and blood.  4) Fomented revolution among the people he is supposed to lead.  Tiresias walks out in disgust.

Creon is finally shaken in fear.  He will free Antigone if he can, and regrets defying the law of the gods.  The Chorus beg to Bacchus to come and set things right.

After a time, a messenger arrives with news of Creon's despair.  Haemon is dead by suicide.  Eurydice (Creon's wife and Haemon's mother) enters distrught, and the messenger tells the story.  He and Haemon went and performed the proper burial rites on Polyneices rotting body.  Haemon then went to free Antigone, but found her having hanged herself.  Creon also arrived, setting off Haemon's rage.  He lunged at his father, then stabbed himself with his own sword, embracing Antigone in his death.

Eurydice leaves, and Creon enters with Haemon's body.  He is broken.  The same messenger enters again with more news: Eurydice has killed herself with her dagger.  What is more, she cursed and blamed Creon for all the death's before committing the act.  Creon has lost everything.

The Chorus's final lesson:

Where wisdom is, there happiness will crown
A piety that nothing will corrode.
But high and mighty words and ways
Are flogged to humbleness, till age,
Beaten to its knees, at last is wise.

--------------------------

Very bloody ending, moreso than anything I've read so far.  Inspiration to Shakespeare?

In the end, Creon did respect a higher authority-- the words of the prophet shook him to his core.  He really did understand that his actions were subject to the law of the gods.  But in his arrogance, he would not believe any of those who tried to warn him of that, distrusting their motives-- even disbelieving the prophet for a time, treating him as a huckster.  A little paranoia mixed in with the megalomania, I think.

Another lesson: justice does indeed come in the end onto those who test it.  From the very beginning of his rampage, Creon's fate was sealed.  It was only a matter of time.

Antigone, 3

Haemon enters, and states that he plans to speak as Creon's son.  Creon is pleased, and tells his son he shouldn't marry such a disobedient girl.  Also speaks at length on the right of a political leader to rule his people with an iron fist-- in that true justice lies.  Haemon quietly rebukes him, saying that as his son he begs his father to do real justice for Antigone, and that the people in the streets of Thebes are uniformly against their leader.  The words between them grow heated, and nearly hysterical on Creon's part.  Haemon continues to plead for the justice of heaven be done, while Creon contends that the justice of power is justice.  Haemon walks out.  Creon describes the punishment that Antigone will receive: isolation in cave until she expires.

The Chorus lament the effects of love on familial relations.

Antigone is brought in once more to face Creon.  She is resigned to her punishment, and sees it as the culmination of the curse upon her family.  Creon enters to give the final sentence, and Antigone is defiant to his face once again.  She also gives a final justification for her act: her love for her dead brother cannot be made up for toward any other.  She maintains the justice of her actions, and only hopes that true justice will eventually be done to those who wrong her.

The Chorus lament again, and name Antigone as the continuation of a long line of Greek women who suffered in seclusion and isolation.

------------------------

More development of the political philosophy here.  Creon does possess absolute power, but the people are free to resist and eventually to abandon their leader, and will do so if they do not see him aligning with their sense of a higher justice.

Antigone, 2

Chorus sings a song extolling the dominance of man over the world-- over the natural world, which he has subdued, and over the political world, which bends to his whims.  But end on a word of warning against ambition overstepping its bounds.

Sentry reenters with Antigone in tow.  He cheerfully and at great length tells how she was caught red-handed re-burying the body (after the guards had dusted it off the first time).  Antigone stands up to Creon, denying nothing, and claiming that she was following a higher law-- a law the Creon has not the authority to nullify.  Creon is angered even more.  Biting back-and-forth between the two, neither giving an inch.

Ismene is brought in, to be punished as an accomplice, a role she gladly accepts now that her remaining family is doomed.  Antigone ruefully denies her that title, for she wouldn't go along with her plan at the beginning.  Ismene tries to save Antigone by pointing out she is betrothed to Creon's son Haemon-- just throwing another duty onto the pile.  Taken aback, Creon sends them both to be locked up while he figures out what to do next.

The Chorus sings a song lamenting the terrible fate that continues to wend its way through the family of Oedipus.  The gods are exceptionally cruel, and wicked in their play.

Haemon enters.

Antigone, 1

After Oedipus's death, a war rages for the control of Thebes.  Oedipus's two sons, Polyneices and Eteocles, are killed on opposite sides of the battle.  Oedipus's brother Creon, now the acting king, declares that Polyneices's body should receive no burial, he being on the rebellion side of the battle.  Oedipus's daughter Antigone vows to give her brother a proper burial, just as Eteocles rightly received.  She tries to talk her sister Ismene into aiding her in the burial, but Ismene is too fearful to do so-- and does not want to contribute to her family's sad history of ignominy.  Disgusted, Antigone asks her instead to proclaim loudly what she intends to do-- she welcomes the punishment of death that Creon has threatened, as long as she is seen to do right by her family.

Thebes's soldiers (the Chorus) enter, bragging loudly over their victory.  Creon enters and clarifies to them his method of rule.  He will have utter allegiance to the city from its citizens and military.  All other relationships come second.  To that end, he explains his proclamation that Polyneices not be buried: it is the proper punishment for one who raised arms against the city. 

But on the first night, a Sentry enters, disheveled, confused, fearful, and hesitant to tell what he knows.  He finally explains that Polyneices body was sprinkled with earth-- enough to show that a burial ceremony had been performed.  The guards argued over who was at fault-- all declaring profusely that they were innocent-- before he was chosen to bring the news to Creon.  Creon, in turn, is apoplectic.  A soldier suggests it might be the work of one of the gods, but Creon declares that Polyneices was certainly not deserving of such an honor.  He decides that the guards around the body must have been bribed into allowing this to happen, and directs the Sentry to discover who defied his orders.  The Sentry protests, and Creon leaves in disgust.  Alone, the Sentry vows that he shall not return-- it's not worth the hassle.

----------------------------

The language here seems to be more... regal than in the Ajax.  I suppose that is in keeping with the characters we've met, who are of royal station.  But it might just be Roche being careful about that sort of thing (he did give the Sentry a Cockney accent to contrast with Creon).

There was a very quick, but useful, introduction of the overall conflict of the play: duty to family vs. duty to state.  Creon explicitly demands utter and complete loyalty to the state, even under penalty of death.  But implicit in this is the idea that the threat of violence is needed to maintain the loyalty to the state-- and that will have no effect on those willing to martyr themselves over their loyalty to family, as Antigone expressly states that she is.

Sophocles

A bit of research shows that only seven of Sophocles' 123 plays have survived.  Somehow, I managed to collect the whole set.  Huzzah!

The first book contains Ajax, The Women of Trachis, Electra, and Philoctetes.  Translations are by John Moore, Michael Jameson, and David Greene-- all unknown to me, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.  I'm pretty sure I originally bought this for my freshman seminar, but it's possible that I got it for my Ancient Philosophy course at the University of Chicago, along with the Iliad.  In either case, I can't remember actually reading anything out of it.  Shame on me.

The second book contains the Theban plays: Oedipus the King, Oedipus at Colonus, and Antigone.  I picked this up at Half Price Books when I bought my Aeschylus.  Translations are by Paul Roche again.  Solid.

The overall chronology of authorship, it seems, is Ajax - Antigone - Women of Trachis - Oedipus the King - Electra - Philoctetes - Oedipus at Colonus, so that's the order I'm going in.  That means I'm reading the book with the Theban plays out of order, but they weren't written together anyway, so what's the dif?  We'll see what Roche's introduction has to say about it, though.

Incidentally, what I do remember from freshman seminar is watching a bizarre video  in the library on a crummy VHS and old tube TV starring Morgan Freeman in some sort of retelling of the Oedipus saga in a church or something.  (Which would seem to imply that I got the first Sophocles book there-- but that book doesn't have the Oedipus plays in it.  So now I don't know what happened.)  Anyway, I finally managed to track down what in the hell that was all about.  Feast your eyes on "The Gospel at Colonus" starring, indeed, Morgan Freeman.