This is to certify that the thesis entitled Sophocles” Antigone: An Exploration of Modern and Contemporary Versions presented by Gerald R. Spaulding Jr. has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts degree in Theatre amid/mg Major Professor 3 Signafire ZM/ 247/7 Date MSU is an affinnative-action, equal-opportunity employer .-------a-o-.-c-J-I-v-u-0-0-0-o-o-n-n-n-n--Ip------c-o-n-o-u---n-. oc---o-o-o--.--.-. LIBRARY Michigan State University PLACE IN RETURN BOX to remove this checkout from your record. TO AVOID FINES return on or before date due. MAY BE RECALLED with earlier due date if requested. DATE DUE DATE DUE DATE DUE Jim 14 2008 6/07 p1/CIRC/Dale0ueindd-p1 SOPHOCLES’ ANT/GONE: AN EXPLORATION OF MODERN AND CONTEMPORARY VERSIONS By Gerald R. Spaulding Jr. A THESIS Submitted to Michigan State University In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS Department of Theatre 2007 ABSTRACT SOPHOCLES’ ANT/GONE: AN EXPLORATION OF MODERN AND CONTEMPORARY VERSIONS By Gerald R. Spaulding Jr. Six versions of Antigone are studied to demonstrate how recent playwrights have used Sophocles’ rendition of the ancient Greek myth as a vehicle to express their own congruent but dissimilar ideas. The Burial at Thebes by Seamus Heaney and Antigone by Jean Cocteau re-tell Sophocles’ play. The two versions of Antigone, one by Jean Anouilh and another by Bertolt Brecht, uniquely adapt Sophocles’ play while still following the framework of his dramatic action. Athol Fugard’s The Island and AR. Gumey’s Another Antigone use Sophocles’ Antigone as inspiration from which they create their own unique stories. To Francisco. Dionysus cheers for you, my friend. iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS My sincere thanks to the entire faculty and staff of the Michigan State University Department of Theatre. Despite the difficulties that my unique circumstances as an outreach student posed, they managed to work through them effectively and professionally. Similar professionalism was exhibited by my superintendent, Dr. Tom Smith, and the Board of Education for the Escanaba Area School District when they granted my leave of absence for the 2006-07 school year, and for that I am grateful. To the members of my guidance committee, Professors Sherrie Barr, Kirk Domer, and Frank Rutledge for...well, for their guidance I suppose, and to Dr. Danielle DeVoss for her citation assistance with my “feetsnote” and for inadvertently validating my personal brand of insanity with a wholly unique version of her own. Jalain Onsgard: you and me, baby—we did it in spite of the odds and the procrastinating emails back and forth. But mostly, I thank my mother, of course, whom I love dearly (but not in a tragic Greek sort of way), and my father, who now drinks with Odysseus in the Elysian Fields, and who’s always been my inspiration and my idol; his was the stuff of Homeric myth. iv TABLE OF CONTENTS FORWARD .................................................................................................................................. 1 CHAPTER I THE ANTIGONE MYTH: AN INTRODUCTION AND OVERVIEW ............................................................................ 3 CHAPTER II EXTOLLING THE VIRTUES: UPDATED VERSIONS OF SOPHOCLES’ ANTIGONE .............................................. 11 The Burial at Thebes ................................................................................................. 19 Antigone (Cocteau) .................................................................................................... 21 CHAPTER III EXTENDING THE MYTH: UNIQUE ADAPTATIONS OF SOPHOCLES’ ANTIGONE .......................................... 24 Antigone (Anouilh) ...................................................................................................... 24 Antigone (Brecht) ........................................................................................................ 30 CHAPTER IV EXTRACTING THE STORY: DRAWING INSPIRATIONFROM SOPHOCLES’ ANTIGONE .................................. 36 The Island ..................................................................................................................... 36 Another Antigone ........................................................................................................ 43 CHAPTER V THE ANTIGONE MYTH: A CONCLUSION AND THOUGHTS FOR FURTHER STUDY .................................. 50 Suggestions for Further Study ................................................................................ 51 BIBLIOGRAPHY ..................................................................................................................... 54 Forward The chronicle of Antigone as represented in the drama, Antigone by Sophocles, has been an appealing story that dramatists have continued to use as a vehicle to express their own ideas. When studying a narrative as ancient and as prevalent as Antigone, it is important to define the source material from which it is drawn. In the case of Antigone, that source material takes on unusual definitions. For Sophocles, all indications are that his drama was based off a popular Greek myth, yet in the case of recent versions, the source of the story shifts from the myth to the rendition in Sophocles’ play. Gilbert Highet defines myths as serving one of three purposes. They either re-tell historical fact, symbolize permanent human truths, or explain recurring natural processes (520). The myth that Sophocles used as a basis for his drama clearly had little to do with explaining recurring natural processes. According to Highet’s definition, then, Antigone was either a historical figure, or a symbol for universal human truths, and mythical by this definition. The source for recent versions of Antigone are not the ancient Greek myth but the drama of Sophocles. Connections to the myth of Antigone come indirectly through Sophocles’ Antigone. These dramas are based upon the story, the characters, the themes, etc. of Sophocles’ Antigone, which in turn used the myth of Antigone as the source for his story, characters, themes, etc. This study compares six recent examples of this icon in relation to Sophocles’ original version of the Antigone myth. In doing so, the plays have been broken into three distinct categories. In the first category are The Burial at Thebes by the Irish, Nobel Laureate, Seamus Heaney, and Carl Wildman’s translation of Jean Cocteau’s Antigone. Together, these two plays represent how playwrights have re-told Sophocles’ Antigone. Though unique in style, they closely mirror Sophocles in plot and theme. The second category of plays take Sophocles’ Antigone and extend the story’s plot and themes to create a renewed relevance for their audiences. The plays included in this category are Antigone, written in 1946 by Jean Anouilh and translated by Barbara Bray, and Bertolt Brecht’s 1948 Antigone, which he adapted from Friedrich Holderlin’s 1804 German translation, and which was subsequently translated into English by Judith Malina in 1966. The final grouping of plays consists of The Island, written and first produced in 1973 by South African playwright Athol Fugard, and AR. Gumey’s Another Antigone. These two plays draw inspiration from Sophocles’ Antigone to develop their own, unique storylines. The Antigone Myth: An Introduction and Overview Gilbert Highet thought that “tragedy must rise above the realities of every day, upon the wings of imagination and emotion” (538). Sophocles’ Antigone exemplifies this. In doing so Sophocles managed to achieve what no poet or playwright had been able to accomplish before him: he took a myth of questionable origin and which had been the product of a dubiously documented oral tradition for centuries and created a definitive record of it from which all subsequent versions have been drawn. Myths have always been an indomitable part of the human psyche. Carl Jung believed that myths were “patterns in which the soul of every man develops, because of the humanity he shares with every other man” (Jung, qtd. in Highet 524). Drawing from universal, immortal truths myths capture on a primal level those elements which have an irresistible appeal. This is evidenced by the mythical stories, often of similar design, that exist in diverse cultures around the world to this day. Some of the world’s greatest artists have continually drawn from myth for source material. These include Homer’s Odyssey, Rembrandt’s “Danae,” Wagner’s Ring Cycle, and of course the uncredited “Venus di Milo.” Theatre, however, may be the most indebted to, and dependent upon, myths. Virtually born from myth, the Western theatre’s oldest extant plays are dominated by tales of gods, witches, soothsayers, and other fantastic individuals. Even those stories with historical origin such as the Trojan War became mythic in nature due to the natural embellishment that their oral tradition laid upon them through time. This evolution from the oral tradition into a place of distinction is particularly true of Sophocles’ Antigone. Outwardly a political statement, with religious themes that are culturally unique to its day, its themes remain engrossing. In his book, The Classical Tradition, Greek and Roman Influences on Western Literature, Gilbert Highet asserts that this universality which Sophocles has woven into his play on the conceptual level is what accounts for the success of myths in general. Highet writes that “myths deal with the greatest of all problems, the problems which do not change, because men and women do not change” (540). Antigone exemplifies this idea, and perhaps it is for this reason that it has tenaciously held its place in the theatrical canon for over two- thousand years. The story, as presented by Sophocles, tells of Oedipus’ daughter, Antigone. It opens at the conclusion of a war in which her two brothers, Polyneices and Eteocles, had fought for the crown of Thebes. Now, both brothers having perished at each other’s hand in single combat, it is their uncle, Creon, who has become king. Creon proclaims that while Eteocles, being the rightful sovereign and defender of Thebes, shall be accorded all the rites of an honorable burial, Polyneices, because of his ignominious attempt to usurp control, shall be left unburied so that the dogs and vultures can pick at his corpse. As part of this edict, Creon also avows that any citizen attempting to bury Polyneices shall be stoned to death. Believing it her familial duty to bury Polyneices and thereby save his soul from an eternity of unrest, Antigone openly and unabashedly defies Creon’s order, and the ensuing clash of wills between them results in the deaths of Antigone, as well as Creon’s wife and son, Eurydice and Haemon. Since its first production at the Festival of Dionysus in 441 BC. (Arrowsmith 3)‘, Antigone has been a fixture in the Western theatre. Euripides re-worked the tragedy later that same century and the Roman poet, Seneca, wrote his own version in the first century AD. Through the centuries there have been numerous versions drawn from Sophocles’ play, including an adaptation by Thomas More in 1631 and a pro-Catholic novel entitled The New Antigone, written by a Jesuit priest, William Francis Barry, in 1887. In some adaptations the story remains fundamentally the same as Sophocles’ play, while in others playwrights have taken liberties by adding their own unique perspective to the original text. Antigone has seen thirteen different translations alone, not to mention its innumerable adaptations and allusions to it throughout literature. Performed around the world almost continuously since 1863, it has been distinguished as being the most widely-covered of all Sophocles’ plays2 (Remediaki). Yet, in spite of this remarkable promulgation, there remains controversy as to whether the Antigone myth is historical in origin, or whether Sophocles merely invented it. ‘ Other scholars place it at 443 BC. 2 There are no less than thirteen translations alone. In order to trace the veracity of Antigone’s existence prior to the fifth century BC, one must also examine evidence of her lineage. In Mythology Edith Hamilton devotes an entire chapter to the Royal House of Thebes, to which Antigone belongs. Antigone was one of the four children of Oedipus and Jocasta, and Oedipus was the son of Laius and Jocasta. Laius’ father, Labdacus, belongs to the Royal House of Thebes which traces further back to Cadmus who, according to Greek myth, founded Thebes at Apollo’s behest; but for the purpose of this study its only use is to establish a blood line, and so in discussing the genealogy one needs only to go as far back as her father, where the bulk of the information lies. The story of Oedipus is as old as any in Greek legend. As the subject of the Oedipodia, his adventures were chronicled in great detail by the Cyclic poet Cinaethon in 765 BC. (Smith 1:752), and an even earlier allusion to him is made in the Odyssey when Homer tells of Odysseus’ encounter with Jocasta on his journey through the underworld. The Iliad and Odyssey are, of course, amongst the earliest known works of ancient Greece, and although the various dates attributed to Homer place him as having lived anywhere from 1184-684 B.C. (ibid 2:500), it is widely accepted that epic poetry in the style of Homer was perfected between the years of 950-900 BC. (Seyffert 301 ). This places the first reference to the story of Oedipus roughly five-hundred years before Sophocles. The other story which bears direct import for Antigone is that of her brothers, Polyneices and Eteocles, and their war for Thebes. This is the subject of Aeschylus’ play Seven Against Thebes, dated 467 8.0., and though some scholars assert that prior to Aeschylus no mention of this battle exists, Michael Jameson, in his article “Mythology of Ancient Greece,” says that the story of the two brothers is an old one that may have been the subject of heroic poems dating back to the time of Hesiod, who, himself, considered the war for Thebes second in importance amongst the wars of the Heroic Age only to that of the Trojan War (Myth...Ancient World 243). The House of Labdacus has its roots in an oral tradition dating back, seemingly, to before the time of Homer, but when oral tradition is used as a basis for history, it leads to “patterns of folk tale.” So while there may well have been the actual historical personages of Oedipus, Antigone, and her brothers, the stories that were passed down through generations were “likely to have had their origin in the themes of folk tales” (Jameson 237). As a result, by the time they reached Sophocles the subjects of his Theban plays may have already developed the hyperbolic qualities that frequently cause the melting of history into myth. In the case of Antigone, the history that passed down to Sophocles becomes especially impenetrable due to the inconsistencies in the stories that were available to him. In regards to Oedipus, for example, it is told by some that upon the death of Jocasta he was cast out of Thebes and, after years of wandering with Antigone, died peacefully in a sacred grove of the Furies just outside of Athens. Similarly, other versions tell of him traveling to Colonus where Antigone cared for him until Apollo granted him a peaceful death (Arrowsmith 97). Conversely, it is separately recorded by Oskar Seyffert and William Smith respectively that Oedipus was “...deposed from his throne and imprisoned at Thebes by his sons to conceal his shame from men’s eyes” (425), and “...tormented by the Erinnyes [Furies] of his mother, [where he] continued to reign at Thebes after her death; he fell in battle, and was honoured at Thebes with funeral solemnities” (3:15). In a separate entry Smith, citing Apollodorus, the grammarian from the second century BC, states that Haemon had died before Antigone returned from Colonus (1:186), a story that bears obvious and inherent flaws if one is to believe that Oedipus, and therefore Antigone, never left Thebes at all. Additional variations regarding Antigone include the common belief that after burying Polyneices she was sealed in a cave beyond the city proper where both she and her betrothed Haemon committed suicide. This is the story Sophocles tells, as does Bulfinch in his The Age of Fable. Other sources state that Antigone, with the assistance of Polyneices’ widow, Argeia, bumed his body upon the funeral pyre of Eteocles. Aftenlvards, when Creon seized her he gave her to Haemon to be executed, but instead of following his father’s orders Haemon hid Antigone in a remote shepherd’s hut where they were later wedded and had a child in secret. It was only years later, when their grown son was recognized from a familial birthmark, that the two were discovered, at which point Haemon killed both himself and Antigone in order to escape his father’s wrath (Seyffert 35-36). Due to these various versions, it can be argued that the entire story of Antigone was fabricated by Sophocles. Lending credence to this claim is the fact that Antigone was written and first produced at a time when Athenians, in the midst of a socio-political shift toward democratic ideals, would have been especially outraged at Creon’s autocratic dictum to have Antigone put to death. Since at that time the political concept of homonoia, where laws are “ideally the results of a consensual or contractual agreement made by all the citizens of a state” was being developed (Hall xviii), it would have only been logical for a playwright of Sophocles’ political astuteness to create a story that has its basis in ancient Greek myth that “renders the disastrous outcome of [Creon’s] reign...inevitable” (ibid). Other sources assiduously stand by the claim that while Sophocles may have taken liberties with the Antigone story as it had come down to him from the Homeric Age, the myth itself, as traced back to Cadmus, is rooted in history. One such source is the eighteenth century French historian, Antoine Banier, whose four volume work, The Mythology and Fables of the Ancients, Explained from History, cites Homer and the Lacedaemonian geographer, Pausanias, among others, to defend his assertions. Banier writes that upon the death of Jocasta Oedipus married Euriginea, the daughter of Periphas, and it was with her that he had the four children. For his part, Pausanias cites the Oedipodia and a picture drawn by Onatas which depicts a grief-stricken Euriginea at the moment her two sons were to engage in combat (184). So while Banier, through his sources, may refute the birth parents of Antigone he nonetheless affirms her birth, thereby serving as a counterpoint to those who deem that Antigone is merely a Sophoclean contrivance. Whether Sophocles completely manufactured his Antigone, thereby extending the Oedipal myth, or whether he fashioned it from a story that was well-known in its own right, he produced a deeply socio-political play at a time when Athens was transitioning “between a sacred society and a society built by man” (Camus, qtd. in Hall xxv). In realizing these conditions, then actualizing them through his drama, he managed to balance the subject of myth in a way that Jameson says is comparable to a historian who believes in the nature of his subject, yet deems it necessary to embellish or re-interpret certain details in order to create sense, relevance, and understanding to an otherwise amorphous past (234). 10 Extolling the Virtues: Updated Versions of Sophocles’ Antigone Many of the updated versions of Antigone maintain the form and content of Sophocles’ original text. In writing for their own time and their own distinct audience, however, playwrights inevitably bring their own point of view to their scripts. Of the recent versions of Antigone that have followed this pattern, two have been chosen for this study. The Burial at Thebes, written by Nobel Laureate Seamus Heaney, was first produced in 2004 at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin. Jean Cocteau’s Antigone was first produced at the Atelier Theatre of Paris in 1922 and later revived in 1927. Though vastly different stylistically from each other, each play ultimately bears the same form and content. Structurally, each play closely mimics the basic dramatic action of Sophocles’ play. Shown below is an outline of the story as dramatized by Sophocles, Heaney, and Cocteau: PROLOGUE - Characters: Antigone/lsmene. - Action: The prologue provides information on events that transpired prior to the dramatic action of the play, but which bear significant importance upon that action and its outcome. In this dialogue it is learned how Thebes has survived its war against the Argive army, but how in the process, the brothers to Antigone and 11 lsmene were both killed. Eteocles, being the defender of Thebes, was given an honorable burial by their uncle, Creon, who is now the king. However, Creon has decreed that Polyneices, the aggressor, shall not receive the proper burial rites. Antigone informs lsmene that despite the penalty of death, she intends to bury their brother. lsmene, more timid and fearful than her sister, refuses to help Antigone in this, and is then chided severely. EPISODE ONE - Characters: Creon/Guard. - Action: Creon delivers a speech announcing that as king his first loyalty is to Thebes, and it is for this reason and with the citizens in mind that he has forbidden the burial of Polyneices, whom he considers a traitor. The chorus, representative of Theban citizens, sides with him. At this point, a guard who had been assigned to watch over the body reports how somebody has managed to sprinkle dirt atop the body. The nervous guard is told by Creon that unless he finds out who is responsible he will end up paying the consequence of death. EPISODE TWO 0 Characters: Antigone/Creon/Guard. Antigone/Creon/lsmene. - Action: The Guard from the previous episode re-enters, this time with Antigone. When Creon enters, the Guard explains to 12 him how they caught Antigone in the act of sprinkling dirt over the corpse. Creon dismisses the Guard. In the dialogue that follows, Creon attempts to shame Antigone and portray her as a villain against the state, but she remains unrepentant, openly admitting her crime and claiming it was her duty to bury her brother. Creon, convinced that lsmene aided Antigone in this, summons her to face the same penalty as her sister. When she arrives, lsmene claims to have indeed assisted in the burial of their brother, but Antigone refuses to acknowledge this and harshly criticizes and judges lsmene for having taken no action previously. In her appeals to Creon, lsmene begs him to consider his son, Haemon, who is betrothed to Antigone, but her pleading falls upon deaf ears as Creon is insistent that both women are to be put to death. EPISODE THREE 0 Characters: Creon/Haemon. - Action: In this episode Creon’s son, Haemon, asks to have Antigone’s life spared. He explains that being the king’s son has put him in the unique position of being privy to the attitudes of the crown as well as the common citizen, and while he honors the familial relationship of father and son above all, he, along with many Thebans, considers Antigone’s actions to be honorable, and as such her life should be spared. Creon becomes upset and says that no man should put himself before the state and therefore the 13 decree must stand. In their argument, Creon angers Haemon with his insults, and Haemon, after threatening suicide, exits in rage. Creon then calls for the women, insistent upon their deaths. He relents to some degree, however, by listening to the Chorus’ logic that lsmene should be spared, and by deciding to have Antigone walled into a cave on the outskirts of the city rather than having her stoned as originally decreed. EPISODE FOUR - Characters: Antigone/Creon. 0 Action: This episode is Antigone’s funereal procession. Resembling a choral interlude, the lines of the characters are interspersed with those of the chorus and are more poetic and interpretive than declamatory or conversational. Creon once more denounces and shows his lack of pity for Antigone in one final confrontation between them. EPISODE FIVE - Characters: Creon/1' iresias. - Action: With Antigone having been sent off to her death, Tiresias comes to Creon with portentous news. Tiresias tells Creon that a great squabble of birds brought bad omens to him, and when he made offerings to the gods they refused them. When he explains to Creon that the gods are disgusted with the rotting of 14 Polyneices corpse and offended that he was denied the burial rites that would pass his soul into their realm, Creon lashes out and accuses Tiresias of accepting a bribe as a way to free Antigone. After prophesying doom for Creon, Tiresias leaves in anger. Out of fear for the prophesy, the chorus then pleads with Creon, finally convincing him to relent and free Antigone. EPISODE SIX 0 Characters: Messenger/Eurydice. Messenger/Creon. 0 Action: A Messenger enters at the beginning of this episode and proceeds to tell of what happened when Creon and his attendants reached Antigone’s tomb. When they had cleared the stones away from the entrance, Creon entered to find Haemon on his knees clutching at the legs of Antigone who had committed suicide by hanging herself. When Creon approaches his son, Haemon draws his sword and rushes him. Stepping aside, Creon avoids the blow, and Haemon, in his rage, runs himself through with the blade, thereby taking his own life as he had threatened to do earlier. Eurydice, Creon’s wife and mother to Haemon, having now heard the story, is so distraught over the death of her son that she takes her own life as well. In the end, Creon enters, having lost 15 all that was important to him, and accepts that it was his own carelessness and intransigence which led to this tragedy for himself and for Thebes. Though Heaney and Cocteau each develop their own emphasis in regards to theme and to the finer details of presentation, the structure for their plays remains consistent from script to script, with little or no difference in their form, content, or conclusion. Each play still consists of a prologue and parados, followed by six episodes, each separated by a choral interlude, and concluding with an Exodos. Clearly, the purpose of these playwrights is not to create an original adaptation based on the Antigone myth, but rather to update a play that has maintained its overall relevance to society. In addition to the similarities each play bears to Sophocles in regards to form and structure as a whole, they also compare closely on a more particularized level as well. In each script are numerous lines that mirror one another. In many cases these lines are a source of imagery or of cultural or mythological allusion, but have little to do with furthering the actual plot; their deletion, in fact, would have minimal impact on its outcome, yet each playwright has seen fit to include them. To clearly illustrate this, a juxtaposition of these lines has been broken down in the tables below. They show how each script follows the original very closely in its detail and dialogue. l6 PROLOGUE Sophocles3 Heaney Cocteau So he has decreed...to you, to me. To me! ...for you and me. Yes, for me too. ...for you and for me, lsmene, for me! Remember, too, that we are women, not made to fight with men. We are just women. Women unskilled in the art of subduing men. Two women on our own faced with a death decree—women, defying Creon? l have to please the dead far longer than I need to please the living. The dead in the land of he dead are the ones you’ll be with longest. The time I shall have to spend pleasing the dead is far longer than the time I must spend pleasing the living. EPISODE ONE Sophocles Heaney Cocteau ...but leave him there unburied, to be devoured by dogs and birds. Hereby he is adjudged a carcass for the dogs and birds to feed on. I command that his body be left to the dogs and crows. Creon: ...you defend the law now made. Chorus: No, lay that burden on some younger men. Creon: ...I regard you... as agents of the law. Chorus: Younger men would be better for that job. Creon: Carry out my order. Chorus: Ask the young men. None are so foolish as to long for death. But who’d do that? Who would choose to be dead. No man is so mad as to seek death. ...love of gain has often lured a man to his “There’s always money lurking and I never The hope of a purse often makes men destruction. underestimate the lure of mad. money. There was no mark of a No sign of pick-work or that There’s no sign of pickaxe, no sign of digging...no waggon had been there. class of thing. No rut-marks from a wheel. spades or picks. No footprints. No cart tracks. 3 All of Sophocles’ text has been transposed from verse to prose. 17 EPISODE TWO Sophocles Heaney Cocteau And sat down on a hill, to the windward side that so we might avoid the smell of it. So we stationed ourselves at points around the hill—out of the wind, you know, because of the smell. Then we sat down on a mound where there was a breeze—because of the stink. ...when she saw the body bare, she raised a cry of anguish... She sees the bare corpse and lets out a screech. ...we saw this young woman standing near the body. Screaming her head off. In death they may be reconciled. The dead aren’t going to begrudge the dead. Who knows if your frontiers have meaning in the land of the dead. Down then to Hell! Love there, if love you must. While I am living, no woman shall have rule. Go then and love your fill in the undenlvorld. No woman will dictate the law to me. Descend to the dead and love whom you please. But while I live, no woman will make the laws. EPISODE THREE Sophocles Heaney Cocteau See how the trees that grow beside a torrent preserve their branches, if they bend. If a river floods the bend to it survive. trees on the band that ...the captain of a ship; let him refuse to shorten sail, despite the storm—he’ll end his voyage bottom uppermost. If a skipper doesn’t his whole crew ends slacken sail in a storm up clinging to the keel. If a captain blindly kept his canvas stretched, he would soon capsize his ship. EPISODE FOUR Sophocles Heaney Cocteau They tell of how cruelly she did perish, Niobe, Queen in Thebes...she slowly turned to stone on a Phrygian mountain-top. I am like Niobe, Niobe turned to stone in the thawing snow and rain...SIuicing down the ridge of high Mount Sipylus. l have heard how the daughter of Tantalus died. Suddenly, at the top of Sipylus, she felt the rock take her... Fair Danae, who in darkness was held, and never saw the pure daylight. Danae too was walled up in the dark Danae also was buried alive and sleeps in bronze. 18 EPISODE FIVE Sophocles Heaney Cocteau Go, make your profits, drive Whoever wants can All right! Get rich! Trade your trade in Lydian silver or cross your palm away! Win all the gold of in Indian gold... with silver. Sardis and India. EPISODE SIX Sophocles Heaney Cocteau The god coming with all I am under the A god held me by the throat, a his weight has borne wheels of the god pushed me in the back. down on me, and smitten world. Smashed to The whole house of happiness me with all his cruelty. bits by a god. collapses upon me. Cocteau and Heaney were both poets prior to taking on the helm of playwright, but given that they span nearly one-hundred years themselves, from 1922 to 2004, their scripts differ in style and theme. THE BUFflAL AT THEBES Seamus Heaney’s play, written in verse, is poetic and eschews certain theatrical conventions such as stage directions or line interpretation. Heaney places his focus on the verse, the rhythm and metre of the poetry, and it is through this that his characters are drawn (Heaney, Burial 78-79). He establishes this from the very beginning, with Antigone’s first speech: “lsmene, quick, come beret/What’s to become of us?/Why are we always the ones?” (ibid 5). According to Heaney, “...the three-beat lines established a tune. And with a first tune established, it was then easy enough to play variations” (ibid 78). Creon, too, is conventionalized by having him speak primarily in iambic l9 pentameter, and the Chorus is given a four-beat rhythm full of alliteration that rings of an Old English Epic like Beowulf (Heaney, Burial 78-9). Heaney emphasizes both the concept of fate and the idea that divine law supercedes the law of the state, which was the main theme of Sophocles. His references to fate and the curse of Oedipus come as early as the Prologue, in speeches by both Antigone and lsmene. Antigone, in her first speech, says: “There’s nothing, sister, nothing/Zeus hasn’t put us through/Just because we are who we are—IT he daughters of Oedipus” (5). lsmene makes an allusion to fate shortly after: ‘We’re children of Oedipus—l...The king they drove from their city./No matter he didn’t know./No matter it was Oedipus/...And now this last thing happens/T he doom in our blood comes back” (9). His attention to divine law occurs when he repeatedly includes lines such as “Now what has happened? Is this/T he gods at work” (25), and “You have forbidden burial of one dead,/One who belongs by right to the gods below./You have violated their prerogatives” (61 ). Where The Burial at Thebes strays from Sophocles is through its subtle politics. Having grown up in Northern Ireland beneath the shadow of World War II, and living in Belfast during the height of the IRA’s strength (Heaney, “Crediting Poetry”), it’s not surprising that, when invited to write a version of Antigone for the Abbey Theatre, Heaney recognized in the story a parallel between the circumstances and dictums of Creon to those of President George W. Bush. Both individuals challenge their citizens with the notion of loyalty to the state, and the black and white options characterized in an “if you’re not with me you’re 20 against me” mentality (76). When Antigone confronts Creon on page 32, she says “I never did a nobler thing than bury/My brother Polyneices. And if these menNVeren’t so afraid to sound unpatrioticfl'hey’d say the same.” Heaney uses words like “patriot” and “terrorize” on a number of occasions, both of which have distinct connotations in our current political society. But even in this there remains a resonance of the original Antigone in that Sophocles himself was influenced by the nascent seeds of democracy that were sprouting in Athens at that time. ANTIGONE (COCTEAU) Jean Cocteau was an artist who crossed various mediums and styles: Cocteau lived and wrote in total freedom, unattached to conventions, codes, schools or groups...At the same time he did not claim to be perpetually inventive or original and was always ready to listen, either to Sophocles or the Surrealists. (Crosland 10) This proves to be true with his Antigone as well. Written in prose, the dialogue is sharp and rapid in its pace, oftentimes slicing directly to the point, and the Chorus is diminished to the point where it is relegated to merely being a narrator. As a result, his script is markedly shorter than the others and in places it plays like gunfire from an automatic rifle, as is demonstrated from page 52 of the text: Creon: Carry out my order. Chorus: Ask the young men. Creon: Guards keep watch over the body. Chorus: What must we do then? Creon: If laws are broken, be inflexible. 21 Chorus: No man is so mad as to seek death. Creon: Death would be his reward. But the hope of a purse often makes men mad. (52) At the same time, Cocteau includes stage directions that are symbolic and even surreal in places. He describes the Chorus as being “concentrated into a single voice which speaks very loudly and quickly as if reading a newspaper article” (49), and: For a revival in 1927, five monumental plaster heads of young men framed the chorus. The actors wore transparent masks after the fashion of fencing baskets...The general effect was suggestive of...a family of insects. (49) While his is undoubtedly a presentation that doesn’t conform to other productions of Antigone, it is also, in a sense, very Classical in that, like Sophocles, Cocteau’s actors are both masked and represent mankind as a mere “insect” in comparison to the gods or to the greater universe. He remains true to the themes of Sophocles, much in the same way that Heaney does in The Burial at Thebes, and according to Crosland, this was consistent to his overall method: Cocteau was not concerned with constructing a system, he merely said what he wanted to say. The elements fall into place, they are complementary but at the same time complete within themselves. Cocteau did not wish to teach or analyze...His interest in social conditions and politics was often naive or clumsy. (17) Both The Burial at Thebes by Seamus Heaney and Antigone by Jean Cocteau demonstrate that Western theatre is still strongly rooted in the ground that the Greeks cultivated over 2,000 years ago. Essentially, each playwright 22 remains true to Sophocles’ Antigone in form and content. Though Heaney’s play is laden with its contemporary world politics and Cocteau’s production style is typical of the experimental conventions of the theatre during his day, the essence of Sophocles’ play is fundamentally retained by each. The stories mirror one another, the characters maintain their emblematic nature, and the same themes are deeply imbedded throughout. 23 Extending the Myth: Unique Adaptations of Sophocles’ Antigone While some versions of Antigone closely resemble Sophocles’ play, such as those written by Heaney and Cocteau, other playwrights take certain liberties with the story. Either way, playwrights continue to find relevance in the Antigone myth. The human struggle against an oppressive state, one of Sophocles’ main themes, is emphasized in both Jean Anouilh’s and Bertolt Brecht’s adaptations of Antigone. Jean Anouilh’s Antigone, written in 1942, first appeared in his self- classified collection, Pieces noires", and was performed two years later in Paris during the city’s Nazi occupation (Chaillet xvii). In 1948, Brecht adapted Friedrich Holderlin’s 1804 German translation of Antigone, and in 1966 Judith Malina translated Brecht’s adaptation into English (Malina v). Both adaptations were strongly influenced by the war and the Nazi oppression. ANTIGONE (ANOUILH) In 1944 Jean Anouilh staged his version of Antigone. Under normal circumstances this would have been at least a literary event, but given the political nature of the story and the Nazi occupation of Paris at the time, it became an event of heightened significance. These unique circumstances 4 “Plays Black.” This was one of many such groupings that include “Plays Pink,” “Plays Bright,” and “Plays Grating,” a method he adopted from George Bernard Shaw, who also grouped and labeled his plays. 24 required that Anouilh take greater precautions with his adaptation than many of his predecessors. The result is an objectivity with which Anouilh manages to create an ambiguous sense of loyalty and sympathy toward the characters of Creon and Antigone simultaneously: Antigone...had been seen by audiences in occupied Paris as both collaborationist and as part of the resistance. If Antigone’s stubborn insistence on burying her brother against the state’s decree was regarded as a covert statement of support for those fighting the Germans, the tyrant Creon was seen to be altogether too plausible and rational, a justification for adherence to the imposed laws of a dictator. (Chaillet x) To further intrigue his audience, Anouilh disconnects them from the action of the play by employing, somewhat ironically, a Brechtian device. In having the character of the Prologue5 deliver a three page history of every character, including their background and their relationships to one another, Anouilh suggests that the “Antigone” portion is a meta-play, thereby establishing a safe distance between his audiences and his play. Anouilh continues this practice throughout the play, oftentimes as a way to spin his audience’s sympathy toward Creon in dramatic moments that would otherwise favor Antigone. Two such moments are at the peak of the confrontation between Creon and Antigone, and shortly after the revelation of Antigone’s death at the end. In the former moment, Creon’s sudden temper is shielded from the audience and made to seem less tyrannous when Anouilh 5 Although sometimes delivered by the character of the Chorus, the Prologue is individualized from the Chorus in the cast of characters, as well as in the text. As such, the decision has been made to refer to the Prologue as a character, rather than a speech delivered by a character. 25 inserts into Creon’s line: “All right—I’ve got the villain’s part and you’re cast as the heroine. You’re well aware of that” (112). The latter, spoken by the Chorus after Antigone’s death, creates an even stronger disassociation: So. Antigone was right—it would have been nice and peaceful for us all without her. But now it’s over. It’s nice and peaceful anyway. Everyone who had to die is dead: those who believe in one thing, those who believed in the opposite...even those who didn’t believe in anything, but were caught up in the story without knowing what was going on. All dead: quite stiff, quite useless. (136) By distancing his audience from the beginning it is obvious that Anouilh is not simply re-telling the traditional Antigone myth as did Heaney or Cocteau. His play retains only the basic framework of the original myth, and even adds new scenes altogether as juxtaposed sequentially against Sophocles’ Antigone below: Sophocles Anouilh - Antigone explains to lsmene how she is going to bury their brother. - Chorus Enters. - Prologue/Chorus presents the back story to all the characters and establishes a meta-play format. - Antigone comes home in the morning after burying Polyneices. She is confronted by her Nurse for her improper and unladylike ways. 0 lsmene attempts to persuade Antigone to not bury the body. - Antigone meets with Haemon. She expresses her love, but begs him to leave and forget her. - Antigone informs lsmene that she has already buried their brother. 26 0 A guard informs Creon that somebody covered the body. - Choral interlude. - The guard returns to Creon, this time with Antigone, explaining how she was caught - Creon confronts Antigone, who admits her guilt. lsmene is summoned and subsequently exculpated. - Choral interlude. - Haemon confronts Creon. - Antigone is escorted to her tomb. - Tiresius tells Creon that the gods are angry that the body of Polyneices has been left unburied. He prophesizes doom for Creon. - Creon finally relents and rushes out to release Antigone. - Choral interlude. v A messenger enters and describes the death of Haemon and Antigone. - Upon hearing the death of her son, Eurydice commits suicide. - A guard gives Creon the news that the body has been buried. - Three guards drag Antigone in - Creon confronts Antigone and begs her to repeal, explaining how he can make it all work out for her. In doing so, he tells an alternative story of Polyneices/Etocles than is found in traditional texts. - lsmene enters and agrees to bury the body, despite Creon’s decree. 0 Haemon confronts Creon. 0 Antigone and the first guard discuss her fate. - The other two guards enter and take her away. 0 A messenger enters and describes the death of Antigone and Haemon. 27 - A messenger informs Creon of 0 The chorus informs Creon of Eurydice’s death. Eurydice’s death. - Creon attends to his duties by exiting for a meeting. - Exodos. - End of play As can be seen, Anouilh takes liberties with Sophocles’ plot. Structurally he takes the basic storyline of the Antigone myth and extends it by presenting scenes that take place between and around that basic storyline. Once the Prologue has finished, Antigone enters her house where her Nurse is waiting for her. It is dawn and she has just returned from burying the body of her brother. This scene is followed by her meeting with Haemon, in which she declares her love for him but also begs him to forget her and to leave her. The play continues, when three guards bring in Antigone and proceed to discuss their prospective reward; and later again, Antigone has a conversation with the first guard where she dictates a letter and convinces him to bring it to Haemon. With each of these examples, Anouilh either extends the action of a traditional scene, as is the case where the guards bring in Antigone, or else he sequentially slips in the action that takes place between the scenes of the original play. In Sophocles’ play, Antigone explains to lsmene during the prologue how she is going to bury her brother; the episode which follows is the Guard telling Creon that Polyneices’ body has been buried. In Anouilh, Antigone’s intentions are explicated through the character of the Prologue when he narrates the play’s back story and the relationships the characters have with one another; after the Prologue’s speech, however, Anouilh shows what happens between the time 28 when Antigone first buries Polyneices and the Guard brings its revelation to Creon. In doing this, Anouilh succeeds in creating relevance not just for Parisians of 1944, but also for society in general. Theatre-goers now require a verisimilitude in their characters, and Anouilh achieves this by mixing classical ideas with colloquial speech (Chaillet xix). By substituting the one guard for a trio and then having them discuss the coarser elements of society, he keeps his play from being “remote, archaic, unreal” (Highet 537). At the same time, he takes the entire myth and drops it fully into the present. In using modern references such “court-martial,” “The Corp,” and “earning stripes” Anouilh crafts a play that is much more accessible for the his audience. His characters possess a sensitivity that is lacking in Sophocles’ play, and in the end it may have been this convention more than any other that saved Anouilh’s Antigone from the Nazi censorship. By allowing his characters a truthful humanity his Creon “is no longer the harsh, intractable tyrant that Sophocles created, but rather a man who himself is bound and trapped in the administration of the law” (Highet 536), and so a great deal of sympathy can be given him. Likewise, Anouilh individualizes his guards by providing them all with names; they have families and they imagine being given a reward that they can spend at the “Palace,” or the “Crown.” They are more than simply the practical mouthpiece that Sophocles created in his lone sentry (ibid 537). This personalization of the state and its military touches upon an issue that Eric Bentley addresses in his book, The Play, a Critical Anthology. 29 The Greeks were more inclined than we to stress the importance of the group, as against the individual, the importance of law and its upholders. Following this line of thought, it can be maintained that Sophocles, in Antigone and Creon, has balanced, not right and wrong, but one ‘right’ against another. (513) Whether or not Anouilh subscribed to Bentley’s philosophy, his Antigone clearly appealed to the collection of Nazi officers stationed in Paris, and this ironically guaranteed the success of an incredibly political play from a playwright who generally held great “disdain for political action” (Chaillet xix). ANTIGONE (BRECHT) Though Brecht’s Antigone is not as different from Sophocles as is Anouilh’s version in regards to its dramatic action, it is immediately obvious, from the moment Antigone first speaks, that Brecht has adjusted his version thematically. But our brother Polyneices was even younger when he saw his brother trampled to death under the hooves of the war-horse. In tears he fled from the unfinished battle; for others another decision is made by the spirit of battle, when with a hard blow with his right he unnerves his hand. Now the fugitive lurches forward until he has crossed the Dirsean river—breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of Thebes, his seven-gated city—when he is suddenly seized 3O by blood-spattered Creon, who killed his brother— standing behind them, lashing them all into his battle—and he is slaughtered.6 (16) From this it is clear not only where Brecht’s sympathies lie, but also where he intends for the sympathies of his audience to rest as well. According to Brecht’s version, Polyneices and Eteocles were never divided; rather they were comrades for Thebes in a war where Creon was “lashing them all into his battle.” It isn’t the treasonous act at subjugating the city of Thebes, then, for which Polyneices is guilty in the eyes of Creon; instead, it is simply the act of desertion upon witnessing the death of a brother for whom he obviously cared. Combined with the image of a “blood-spattered Creon,” and the inference of blame that Brecht casts upon the king, the gory picture of a tyrannical despot becomes assuredly associated with Creon. A staunch Communist, Brecht was a vocal opponent to the Nazis and the lingering post-war Fascism (Bentley, Memoir), and his Antigone is no exception to these political proclivities. The idea of fate is nearly non-existent in Brecht’s version, and instead he emphasizes the theme of the individual fighting against an unjust establishment within the context of war. In her preface to her own translation of Brecht’s Antigone, Judith Malina mentions that “Brecht himself developed the text in a direction that underscores the play’s relevance to the Nazi debacle” (v). This is illustrated by the fact that the war which functions as a back story in each of the other versions, including Sophocles’, becomes the context of action in Brecht’s play. In this version they 6 Brecht uses alternative spellings for some characters, but for the sake of consistency here the choice has been made to standardize the names. 31 are in the midst of the war, as opposed to having just won it. Here, it is tangible and present, but instead of it being fought at and around the seven gates of Thebes where Creon and Eteocles are forced into a necessary stance of defense, Creon has driven his war to the Argives. The war in Brecht’s Antigone, as opposed to that in Sophocles, is an act of aggression, and he uses this to establish an association between it, and the Nazis of World War II. Brecht added an emphasis on the inevitable calamity spawned by political rigidity for which the fate of the Hitler regime clearly served as a model. This is most evident in Brecht’s use of the character of Creon’s son, Megareus, who is...commander of the armies gone after conquest...Megareus is absent in the Sophoclean version, but Brecht brings him onstage for a blood-curdling monologue in which the dying soldier describes in chilling detail the fiery rout of the forces of the homeland. Thus Brecht attempts to anchor his play...as firmly in the history of this century as in the tales of the ancient world (ibid vi). The conflict between Antigone and Creon depends upon this immediacy of Thebes’ war with the Argives. It is also through this conflict that the issue of the war is continuously brought to the fore of the play. He eliminates Creon from episode four, where Antigone is escorted to her sentence. By avoiding the confrontation between these two characters, Brecht allows his protagonist to deliver a political denouncement of Creon, which associatively, denounces the Nazi supporters as well: You’re really the victims. More mangled bodies will be heaped up for you, unburied as a calm for the unburied. You, who dragged Creon’s war across distant frontiers, though you may win battles, the last one will destroy you. You, who called for booty, you 32 will not see full wagons, but empty ones. I mourn for you, survivors, —what you will see when my eyes will be filled with dust! (48) The tone Brecht creates is far more militant than that found in either Sophocles or Anouilh. The characters are consistently unyielding, and each episode is driven by the polarity of their black and white ideals. Creon holds to his beliefs through to the end, agreeing to release Antigone only out of necessity so that he may continue his war; and Haemon never separates his loyalties between family and state in that a distinction is never made between his love and loyalty toward his father and his anger at the injustice in his ruling. Yet while Brecht’s ideologies may be connected to his own post-war society, one cannot deny their parallels to the Athenian concept of homonoia7. In both Brecht and Sophocles, Creon refuses to capitulate to the will of the people concerning the burial of Polyneices: Sophocles Brecht“ Creon: What should be done! To honour disobedience! Haemon: I would not have you honour criminals. Creon: And is this girl then not a criminal? Haemon: The city with a single voice denies it. Creon: Must I give orders then by their permission? Haemon: If youth is folly, this is childishness. Creon: Am Ito rule for them, not for myself? Haemon: That is not government, but tyranny. Creon: ...But you, knowing little of the case, knowing nothing, you advise me: watch your step, look for alternatives, talk to them in their terms, as if authority could sway the many-bodied masses to difficult deeds by being nothing but a small, cowardly ear. The liters: But it saps the strength to think up cruel punishments. Creon: To crush the curse to earth, until it curses, requires strength. The Elders: But the gentle uses of order can do much. Creon: There are many orders, but who gives the orders? 7 See chapter one, page nine. 8 Selected text for both Sophocles and Brecht is transposed from verse to prose. 33 Creon: The king is lord and master of his city. Haemon: Then you had better rule a desert island Creon: This man, it seems, is the ally of the woman. Haemon: If you’re the woman, yes! I fight for you. Creon: Villain! Do you oppose your father’s will? Haemon: Only because you are opposinLJustice. (26) Haemon: Even if I were not your son I’d say: you do. Creon: If I am charged with it, I’ll do it my way. Haemon: Do it your way, but make it the right way. Creon: Not knowing what I know, you can’t know what it is. Are you my friend no matter how I do it? Haemon: I want you to do it so that I can be your friend. But don’t say you alone can be right, and no other. (40-1) Philosophically antithetical to Athenian homonoia, Creon’s egocentricity is accentuated further by Brecht’s focus on the war between Thebes and Argos. In his version, the war is omnipresent, and it is made clear throughout that it is a war of Creon’s doings and desires. From Antigone’s rebuke at the beginning, to the Messenger’s lengthy tale at the end of how the Theban army fell to the Argives, the lines are clearly drawn. More than anything, perhaps, it is this aspect of Brecht’s Antigone that separates it from Sophocles’. While Sophocles’ play may be underscored with themes of war, Brecht’s play ultimately is about war. The 19405 were a time of extreme political unrest. The effects of World War II were felt to some degree across the globe, but for those in the direct line of Hitler’s expansion, the war became a constant presence. In Europe, playwrights like Anouilh and Brecht made use of the war in their work. With Antigone, the theme of the individual’s struggle against an oppressive state suddenly found a new relevance within the context of World War II. Though their 34 circumstances differed, as did their personal ideologies, neither Anouilh or Brecht could escape the influence of World War II in their lives. Subsequently, in an effort to criticize Nazi rule, each turned to Sophocles’ Antigone. By extending the story of this Classic play, both Anouilh and Brecht found a way to make their statement while minimizing the backlash from, or association to, the Nazi movement during the war and the post-war years. 35 IV Extracting the Story: Drawing Inspiration from Sophocles’ Antigone Playwrights also continue the expression of classic plays by using them as an inspiration from which their own stories are developed. As already pointed out, there have been no less than thirteen translations of Sophocles’ Antigoneg, with numerous other unique adaptations beyond those. Of all the most recent adaptations available, two have been chosen for this study. They include a politically-charged meta-play entitled The Island by the South African playwright, Athol Fugard, first performed under the title of Die Hodoshe Span in 1973 at The Space in Cape Town; and Another Antigone by AR Gurney, first produced in 1987 at The Old Globe Theatre in San Diego. THE ISLAND In 1958, Athol Fugard quit his comfortable, secure job in Cape Town South Africa and moved to Johannesburg with his wife Sheila, and it is from there that his career as a playwright began (Fugard, Preface v). It is important to note how the political savagery of South African Apartheid10 influenced his writing during his stay in Johannesburg, especially in regards to The Island: 9 See chapter one, page five. 1° The South African government had instituted numerous laws which effectively provided the white minority with the ability to legally segregate, exploit and terrorize all non-whites. (United Nations, “Human Rights”) 36 Those...years also coincided with intense police activity and our group11 was targeted as highly suspect. Rehearsals were broken up by police raids, and periodically one of our number would disappear only to turn up later in a kangaroo court on trumped- up charges, which, in turn, would lead to imprisonment on Robben Island. (ibid vi) The Island is set in the South African prison on Robben Island, just off the coast of Cape Town. Simply known as The Island, it was where most of South Africa’s political prisoners were sent, including Nelson Mandela in 1963. The climate was extreme and the conditions inhumane. White guards frequently brutalized the black prisoners, many of whom died of tuberculosis due to a lack of proper medical care. (Fugard 231 ). Though the actual writing of the play was done by Fugard, it first developed through workshop techniques. In a collaboration with John Kani and Winston Ntshona, the three managed to pool information they had gathered on the prison from friends and relatives who had been detained there at one time or another (Walder xxviii). To begin with, there had...been an image...with a peculiar resonance which the three soon realized would give them their subject. Fugard simply took a large blanket and spread it outside his house on the ground, asking Kani and Ntshona as an Exercise to explore its space, to stand in the centre, to walk around the edge. Then he folded the blanket again and again, until there was just room for the actors to stand. Then he asked them, ‘What do you think this means?’ They realized it was a cell, and knew instantly where the exercise was leading them: ‘To take the island and say something about it.’ (ibid xxviiI-xxix) ‘1 The Serpent Players, a theatre group with which Fugard helped institute, and from which The Island would eventually develop. 37 They initially titled the play Die Hodoshe Span, which translated to ‘The Hodoshe work-team,’ but changed it to The Island when it played at Britain’s Royal Court Upstairs in 1973 (ibid xxix). While other playwrights such as Brecht and Anouilh maintain the basic framework of the Antigone myth through plot, Fugard employs a method that Douglas Russell defines as “associationalism,” in his book, A Period Style for the Theatre: ...the concept [is] the rendering of an artistic work, even a classical Greek or Roman one, so that it makes connections through personal or public emotion with the past, the self, or the deeper realities of life. (287) Fugard creates a completely different story in terms of its dramatic action, but nonetheless draws upon the themes of Antigone to do so. In The Island, nearly all of the dramatic action takes place in the cell of two black prisoners, John and Winston, who have been cellmates for three years on Robben Island. It is through their lives in this prison during the height of South African Apartheid that Fugard is able to employ this associationalism between his play and Sophocles’. Like Sophocles’ Antigone, The Island presents a clash between the People and the state. In Antigone the People are represented by the title character, while Creon represents the state. In The Island, the People are represented by John and Winston, two black prisoners who undergo various forms of abuse through the course of the play at the hands of an uncompromising and politically biased state, as personified by the prison and its unseen, yet ever-present, white warders. 38 To illustrate this, Fugard creates a meta-play, where John and Winston perform their own version of Antigone for the prison staff and their fellow inmates. According to John, the story of Antigone, which he calls “The Trial of Antigone” is broken into the following four stages: (1) The State Lays Charges Against Antigone, (2) Pleading, (3) Pleading in Mitigation of Sentence, and (4) State Summary, Sentence, and Farewell Words. In the end, “The Trial of Antigone” as performed by John and Winston mirrors Sophocles through its dialogue in much the same way that Heaney and Cocteau do, as shown in a representative sample below: Sophocles"2 Fugard Antigone: Would you do more than simply take and kill me? Creon: I will have nothing more, and nothing less. Antigone: Then why delay? (18) Winston: Full punishment? Would you like to do more than just kill me? John: That is all I wish Winston: Then let us not waste any time. (226) Antigone: Yet what could I have done to win renown more glorious than giving burial to my own brother? These men too would say it, except that terror cows them to silence... Creon: You are the only one in Thebes to think it! Antigone: These think as l do—but they dare not speak. (1 8) Winston: I buried my brother. That is an honourable thing, Creon. All these people in your state would say so too, if fear of you and another law did not force them into silence. John: You are wrong. None of my people think the way you do. Winston: Yes they do, but no one dares tell you so. (226) Antigone: ...I give both love, not share their hatred. Creon: Down then to Hell! Love there, if love you must. While I am living, no woman shall have rule. (19) Winston: I shared my love, not my hate. John: Go then and share your love among the dead. I will have no rats’ laws here while yet I live. (227) ‘2 Selected text from Sophocles is transposed from verse to prose. 39 Fugard aligns The Island to Antigone on two different levels. On one level, the meta-play, “The Trial of Antigone,” adheres to it by presenting a unique version of the myth, albeit a condensed, specialized version. At the same time, the dramatic action of the outer play, The Island, primarily revolves around the rehearsals for, and discussions of, the inner play, “The Trial of Antigone.” As a result of mirroring the inner play, then, the outer play is aligned with the Antigone myth. Fugard writes The Island in four scenes, with each scene of the outer play correlating to one of the four stages that John uses in “The Trial of Antigone,” as shown below: STAGE ONE: THE STATE LAYS CHARGES Scene one of The Island makes numerous references to the way John and Winston’s warder punishes them for not upholding or completing the tasks with which they are frequently charged. In this case, the state is laying charges on the two men. At the same time, John, who plays Creon in “The Trial of Antigone,” charges Winston with the responsibility of playing Antigone, a role he desperately does not want to play. In essence, then, the state, as represented by Creon, who is played by John, lays charges against Antigone, who is played by Winston. When John and Winston’s discussion turns to another prisoner who was recently thrown in solitary for aggravating his warder, John charges Winston with the responsibility to himself as well as to his cellmate: 4O John: You’re not alone in this cell. I’m here too. Winston: Jesus, you think I don’t know that! John: People must remember their responsibilities to others. (204) STAGE TWO: PLEADING In this scene, both Winston and John resort to pleading. To begin with, John must re-double his pleas to Winston when he adamantly refuses to play Antigone after John laughs at the way he looks in the costume; and later, when John returns from meeting with the warden, Winston begs John for them to perform something other than Antigone: “Please listen to me, John. ‘Struesgod I can’t do it. I mean, let’s try something else, like singing or something” (211). What Fugard does with scene two, as well, is establish the circumstances necessary for stage three. In order to plead in mitigation of the sentence, there first must be a sentence. In this scene, John learns that his sentence on Robben Island has been reduced so that he only has three months remaining, and while this initially appears to be an answered prayer, when faced with it in relation to Winston’s life sentence, the news, and his impending release, actually becomes a new sentence for both men, as evidenced by the last line of the scene, when John says: 41 ...three months! Those three months are going to feel as long as the three years. Time passes slowly when you’ve got something...to wait for...Look, in this cell we’re going to forget those three months. The whole bloody thing is most probably a trick anyway. So let’s just forget about it. We run to the quarry tomorrow. Together. So let’s sleep. (215-16) STAGE THREE: PLEADING IN MITIGATION OF SENTENCE In scene three John’s reduced sentence has actually become a sentence in its own right for both men. Winston’s happiness for John sours, and as it does he pushes the details upon him as a form of guilt and punishment. When faced with the details of this new sentence, John pleads with Winston to stop: “No! Please, man, Winston. It hurts. Leave those three months alone” (218). STAGE FOUR: STATE SUMMARY, SENTENCE, AND FAREWELL WORDS The dramatic action of scene four consists entirely of John and Winston’s performance of “The Trial of Antigone.” Within this inner play, all four stages are represented, thereby completing the mirroring of the outer play with the inner play. 42 ANOTHER ANTIGONE Unlike Fugard, Gumey’s play links to Antigone less through associationalism13 and more through simple association. In The Island the unique storyline remains true to Sophocles on a conceptual level so that no matter how different the plots are, they are still both a means to the same end; but in Another Antigone, Gurney’s allusions to Sophocles’ Antigone creates an extended metaphor rather than a thematic parallel. As a result, neither the action nor the themes of Gumey’s play are dependent upon its use of Antigone specifically. In Sophocles’, the conflict between Creon and Antigone have far-reaching ramifications that impact all of Thebes as well. As a commentary on the socio- political atmosphere of its day, the characters are representative of a larger whole. The same is true with the conflicts and characters from The Island. Gumey’s play also comments on today’s social mores in the form of anti- Semitism and higher education, but he does so at a more personalized level. The conflict and the outcomes have no impact beyond the immediate lives of the characters, and the characters have no representation or meaning in the larger social context. Yet, despite all this, Another Antigone bears enough similarities to Sophocles to warrant its study. Though the presence of Antigone may not be exclusively necessary to the overall story, it does add a texture to the play that would not othenlvise exist. Structurally, Another Antigone resembles Fugard’s handling of The Island in that Gurney establishes comparisons to Sophocles’ Antigone on multiple ‘3 See page 38. 43 levels. Set at a university in Boston, in this version a college senior, Judy, is confronted by her professor of Greek tragedy, Henry, for not following the criteria of a recent assignment he gave to the class; instead of writing on one of the approved topics, she writes a version of Antigone, and it is around this conflict that the dramatic action of the play revolves. In developing this internal play, the symbolism within the outer play links back to Sophocles. At the beginning of the outer play, Henry and Judy are in Henry’s office, discussing the paper that Judy has turned in. Despite that Henry has previously stated that only the pre-approved topics will be accepted for the papers, Judy has decided to write a play, a version of Antigone which centers around the nuclear arms race between the Soviet Union and the United States. When Henry refuses to accept Judy’s play in lieu of the paper, Judy, feeling oppressed by Henry and the educational establishment, refuses to concede and write a new paper. Gurney ends the scene with Judy reading from her play: “People of this land, we suffer under a yoke./A tyrant rules our city, and unjust laws/Now squelch all forms of perfectly plausible protest” (9). With this scene, Gurney establishes the Antigone theme in the outer play. Henry becomes the Creon figure in the outer play to Judy’s Antigone figure. The symbolism that links the outer play to Sophocles’ Antigone exists because of Gurney’s inclusion of the inner play. As a result, Another Antigone revolves around Sophocles’ Antigone on two levels. Not only is Judy’s play based on Antigone, but it also provides the inciting incident from which the conflict arises. Without Sophocles’ Antigone included as a plot device through the inner play, there would be no association to it in the outer play. Through this, Gurney successfully aligns his outer play, Another Antigone, to Sophocles’ Antigone on a symbolic level. His two main characters, Judy and Henry, are representative of Antigone and Creon. Both exhibit a stubborn pride that rivals their Sophoclean counterparts, and Judy even goes so far as telling Henry on page 53 that they “are basically very much alike.” Judy has ultimately defied the orders of her teacher in the same way that Antigone defied Creon’s decree, and although the consequences for Judy’s actions are not as tragic as Antigone’s, her decision to go ahead and perform her play rather than write a paper on one of Henry’s topics nonetheless jeopardizes her graduation, a fate akin to professional suicide in the Yuppie-driven society of the 19803 when the play was written. At the same time, Henry is as much an uncompromising dictator in his classroom as Creon is in Thebes. This is demonstrated in the scene where Diana, the Dean of Henry’s department, comes to his office and requests that he reconsider his stance concerning Judy’s paper. Even in light of the fact that Judy will not graduate if she fails his course, Henry remains unmoved: Do you know what tragedy is Diana?...l don’t think you do, Diana. I don’t think anyone in this happy- ending country really does. Tragedy means the universe is unjust and unfair, Diana. It means we are hedged about by darkness, doom, and death. It means the good, the just, and well-intentioned don’t always win, Diana. That’s what tragedy means. And if we can learn that, if I can teach that, if I can give these bright, beady-eyed students at least a glimmer of that, then perhaps someday we will...create a 45 common community against this darkness. That’s what I believe, Diana. And that’s what Sophocles believed in 443 BC. when he wrote Antigone... Tragedy keeps us honest, keeps us real, keeps us human...And that is why I cannot endorse what this woman, no, this girl, is doing when she puts on her strident little travesty for the passing parade in Spingler Auditorium on graduation weekend. That is not tragedy, Diana. That is just trouble-making. And I cannot give her credit for it. (17—18) Further establishing this symbolic connection between his play and Sophocles’, Gurney creates circumstances for his characters which correlate to those found in Antigone. Henry has two sons, both of whom are grown and never call him, and a wife who has left him. In essence, Henry has also lost his entire family. Judy’s life also parallels that of her mythical counterpart. Like Antigone, Judy grew up in a well-to-do household. Her father is a doctor and her mother a psychiatrist. On page 24 she describes herself as having been the stereotypical, pampered daughter of a Jewish family “in a healthy suburban environment,” and in doing so tacitly agrees with Henry’s portrayal of her as being a Jewish American Princess. Through continual references to the elements of Greek tragedy, Gurney successfully links his play to Sophocles’ on an associative level as well as a symbolic one. He ties into the theme of fate with lines such as “I guess I’m doomed to be alone” (37), and by mentioning how Henry and Judy “are on a collision course” (35). The theme of gender, specifically that of the woman’s role in society, that Sophocles raises in Antigone, is alluded to as well when Judy says: 46 All us women now killing ourselves to do those things that a lot of men decided not to do twenty years ago. I mean, here we are, the organization women, punching the clock, flashing the credit card, smoking our lungs out, while the really smart men are off making furniture or playing the clarinet or something. (38) While establishing the association between the inner play and the outer play, which in turn creates the link between the outer play to Sophocles’ Antigone, Gurney also creates a third level of presentation by having his characters at times address the audience as if they were students in the school who had gathered there for a meeting or a class. By weaving this into the dramatic action he manages to further connect, as well as distinguish the difference between, his play and Sophocles’. When the characters in the play address the audience, they establish themselves as something similar to a Greek Chorus. On page nine, after the opening scene, Diana enters and delivers the following speech to the audience as if they were a group of students who had gathered specifically for the purposes of this assembly: Good morning. I spoke to you as freshmen. I speak to you now as seniors...A number of you have recently complained about the traditional courses which are still required. Why, you ask, with tuitions so high and the search for jobs so increasingly competitive, are you forced to take such impractical courses?...After all, they are concerned only with some book, some poem, some old play. “Only some work,” as my special favorite Jane Austen once said, “in which the best powers of the mind are displayed, in the best chosen language.” Well, there you are. They’re the best. And we need no reason beyond that to justify, for example, Professor Harper’s course 47 on Greek tragedy. It deals with the best. It exists. It is there. And will remain there, among several other valuable requirements, for what we hope is a very long time. Structurally speaking, her entrance corresponds to the Parados of Sophocles’ play, where the Chorus makes their first entrance following the Prologue of Antigone and lsmene. Thematically, Gurney uses Diana’s speech not only to further the action within the outer play, but also as a means to comment on the society in which the plays exists. This is not unlike the purpose of the Chorus in Sophocles at the end of the Parados: Surpassing belief, the device and Cunning that Man has attained, And it bringeth him now to evil, now to good. If he observe Law, and tread The righteous path God ordained, Honoured is he; dishonoured, the man whose reckless heart Shall make him join hands with sin: May I not think like him, Nor may such an impious man Dwell in my house. (14) At the same time, Gurney takes advantage of this third level by using it to point out how his play is not the tragedy that Sophocles wrote. This is demonstrated when Henry addresses his final class just prior to the final scene of the play: First, let me remind you what tragedy is not. Tragedy has nothing to do with choice. If you can choose, it is not tragic...Perhaps because of this freedom, it is impossible for us to sense what the Greeks called tragedy. We have no oracles, no gods, no real sense of ultimate authority to insist that if we do one thing, another will inevitably follow. We are free. (58) 48 In the end, then, Gurney uses this third level of presentation, to show that while the inner play of Another Antigone may be considered tragic, the actions within the outer play are not. In doing this through the use of a type of environmental theatre, he has incorporated his audience into the dramatic action of the outer play, thereby commenting associatively on the social relevance of Sophocles’ Antigone to our contemporary world. By fusing the themes of their plays to Sophocles’ Antigone, Fugard and Gurney create neither an adaptation nor an extension of the myth. What they do, instead, is create an entirely new story that parallels Sophocles’ Antigone by using it as a driving force behind the dramatic action for their own unique plays. 49 V The Antigone Myth: A Conclusion and Thoughts for Further Study The myth of Antigone has been the subject for countless plays through the centuries, beginning with Sophocles in the Fifth Century BC. and continuing through to today’s playwrights. It is to Sophocles that all other adaptations can be traced, and it is due to the universality in the themes of Sophocles’ Antigone that these adaptations are able to find success today. Although the religious implications in Sophocles’ play no longer bear meaning for today’s audiences, the story’s richness has given rise to its other themes instead. Society has always empathized with her as a representation of the individual fighting against a more powerful, oppressive establishment. Playwrights such as Fugard and Anouilh are able to employ this association as a means to express a political statement, either against their own or another country’s unjust policies. At the same time, other playwrights draw from it to make a social statement, as seen in Another Antigone through Gumey’s commentaries on the educational system and on anti-Semitism. In addition to these, playwrights such as Brecht recognize the play’s relevance in terms of gender issues: “Brecht was no doubt first drawn to Antigone by the power of the ancient archetype: a woman alone defying the power of the state— a pungent parable for any time” (Malina v). 50 The key to Malina’s statement above is her use of the word “archetype.” It is because the two opposing figures of Creon and Antigone are essentially archetypal in nature that the themes of Antigone can be so widely applied. Highet touches upon an explanation for this when he mentions how some scholars, on the basis of Freud’s theories, believe that the universal appeal of myths in general is due to the fact that they center around characters who “are not so much historical individuals as projections of the wishes, passions, and hopes of all mankind” (524). SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY - lsmene: Of all those born into the House of Labdacus, or associated with it through marriage, only lsmene escapes tragic consequences. Both she and Creon survive the Theban plays, and while neither are left with any surviving family, lsmene has not been burdened with her own tragic ending, unlike Creon, whose actions brought upon him the tragic death’s of his wife and son. lsmene is the only character of royal blood who doesn’t take an active part in the events which culminate in tragedy. In fact, the only action she takes in regards to these events is to disassociate herself. At the beginning of Antigone she refuses to assist in the burial of her brother, and it is this decision not to participate that ultimately saves her life when she later begs Antigone to allow them to die together. 51 0 The Guard: More than any of the other secondary characters, the Guard is given various treatment in the different adaptations. Both Brecht and Heaney, for instance, initially drop his dialogue into prose, only to pick up the verse later on. Anouilh gives his guard a name, creates an additional scene between him and Antigone, and extends the action of the traditional guard episodes while introducing two more guards. At the same time, the character of the Guard is much more human and intemally fraught in recent adaptations than in Sophocles’ original text. - The theme of money: In Sophocles, the evils of money permeate the story. In episode one, just prior to the Guard’s entrance, Creon insinuates how the lure of money might be more powerful than the fear of death in reference to his decree that Polyneices was not to be buried: “Death is indeed the price, but love of gain/Has often lured a man to his destruction” (9). Likewise, when Tireseus tells Creon of his eventual downfall, Creon responds by charging him with having taken a bribe. This occasional yet overt reference to money, despite that it does nothing to further the action of the play, leads one to question its presence and purpose in the text. From the golden age of Greek theatre to the present, playwrights have continuously turned to myth as a source for their writing. In addition to his 52 Antigone, Anouilh also wrote Eurydice, and Cocteau’s Orphée is often considered to be his masterpiece (Wildman 2). In myth, playwrights have always found long-established subjects that, while rooted in the classical era, still maintain a relevance amidst the fickle tastes and sweeping changes of today’s society. Gilbert Highet may have explained it best when he wrote: [Myths] deal with love; with war; with sin; with tyranny; with courage; with fate: and all in some way or other deal with the relation of man to those divine powers which are sometimes felt to be irrational, sometimes to be cruel, and sometimes, alas, to be just. (540) Perhaps it is because of this that playwrights are still drawn to the stories of ancient myth. Yet, no matter what the reason may be, the fact remains that neither cultural restrictions nor socio-political circumstances have been able to curb this attraction to myth, or compromise the poignancy and effectiveness of the myth when handled by an accomplished playwright. 53 Bibliography Anouilh, Jean. Antigone. Plays: One. Trans. Barbara Bray. United Kingdom: Methuen Publishing Ltd., 2004. Arrowsmith, William ed. The New Greek Tragedy in Modern Translation; Sophocles Antigone. New York and London: Oxford University Press, 1973. Banier, Antoine. The Mythology and Fables of the Ancients, Explained from History, Vol. 4. New York and London: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1976. Bentley, Eric. The Brecht Memoir. Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1985. Bentley, Eric, ed. The Play, a Critical Anthology. New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1951. Brecht, Bertolt. Antigone. Trans. Judith Malina. New York: Applause Theatre Book Publishers, 1990. Bulfinch, Thomas. The Age of Fable. New York: Review of Reviews, Bartleby.com. 14 February 2007. . Chaillet, Ned. Introduction. Antigone. Plays: One. By Jean Anouilh. Trans. Barbara Bray. United Kingdom: Methuen Publishing Ltd., 2004. vii-xxiii Cocteau, Jean. Antigone. Cocteau, Five Plays. Trans. Carl Wildman. New York: Hill and Wang, 1963. 48-67. Crosland, Margaret. Introduction. Cocteau’s World. By Jean Cocteau. Ed. Margaret Crosland. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. 1972. 9-18. Fugard, Athol. The Island. Township Plays. Great Britain: Oxford University Press, 2000. 194-227. Fugard, Athol. Preface. The Island. Township Plays. Great Britain: Oxford University Press, 2000. v-vi. Gurney, A.R. Another Antigone. New York: Dramatist Play Service, 1988. Hall, Edith. Introduction. Antigone, Oedipus the King, Electra. By Sophocles. Trans. H.D.F. Kitto (1962). Ed. Edith Hall and H.D.F. Kitto. 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