Book 143: Antigone by Sophocles.

“Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how foolish your deeds, those who love you will love you still.”

The only other time I have read Antigone was during a college literature course. In fact, it was during the very first literature course I took in school, and in the same class where my love affair with The Odyssey began. So, I have a soft spot for it, like I do all Greek literature.

Reading Antigone brought me back to that place in college. I took that course in the spring of my freshman year, and our class was located at the Union building on campus. The Union was a musty older building, and our classroom was nestled way up on the top floor (amidst a few conference rooms). The room smelled, there were only two windows, and the rest of my classmates hated it as much as I did.

But I can also remember going to class early and sitting in the Women's Lounge on the bottom floor to look over reading notes and refresh my memory. This was a class that met twice a week, and on Mondays, we had impromptus over our reading assignments. The professor would pick the best two and have us read them out loud to the rest of the class on Wednesdays. It was an intense experience, and I always freaked out about being chosen (I was chosen three times during the semester and yes, once was for Antigone). I would agonize over word choices in my impromptus so that if I was chosen, I would sound just as smart as my classmates.

In any case, reading Antigone the other night brought back those memories. I read it out of the same Norton edition that I had for that class (I kept it), and seeing my post-its, notes, and highlighting reminded me of those college experiences. It also showed me how much I needed to learn, since I over highlighted (and in multiple colors, which drove me insane on this read). But some of my insights were funny and it was a great trip down memory lane for me.

And I think I loved Antigone even more this time around. There is something so passionate and perfect about the play that you simply have to feel inspired and moved by the time you finish it. Antigone is a strong heroine, and one with strong convictions on what is right and wrong. I've always loved her character, well, since I read the play in the first place, and I am sometimes reminded of her need to do the right thing when I am also faced with a tough decision.

To recap the basics of the play for those unfamiliar with the plot: Antigone is a daughter of Oedipus (from Oedipus Rex and Oedipus at Colonus). Before the play begins, there is a war, leaving her two brothers dead on opposites of the battlefield. The victor of the war, Creon, mandates that only one of her brother may be buried with full funeral rights. The other can rot on the battlefield and be food for scavengers and birds. Antigone goes against his wishes and buries her brother. This causes a division between her and her sister, Ismene. Antigone truly believes in her decision, and does it knowing she will be severely punished.

Of course it all ends in some tragic way, as a lot of old Greek works do.

But I just love Antigone. She sticks with her beliefs, even while knowing the consequences. She does what is right even when she will be prosecuted for doing so. There is something to be admired about that. It takes a strong individual to do the right thing in the face of adversity.

That was what I loved about the play when I read it back as a college freshman. Back then, being an English major felt like the right choice. My dad always wanted me to get a degree in Engineering or business-something marketable. But I always resisted  for a number of reasons. Mainly, that I am horrible at math. But also because I have always felt a huge draw to language and words. So even as a freshman in college, I knew that being in the English program was the right choice (he wasn't a big fan of my history degree either).

And since graduating, I have often questioned my decision to go with my gut. You know, since I still don't have a permanent job. But reading Antigone last weekend? For some reason, it just affirmed that I was right...in some way. I followed my passions. And after all, I only have one life to live-I should live it by doing what I feel is right. And I have, so far.

That seems like a lot to pull from a reading of an Ancient Greek play, but if this process has taught me anything, it is this: Literature will always find a way to dive into your soul and make you think about the life you lead and the choices you make.

And so far? I'm okay with everything.

Book 112: "The Eumenides" (The Oresteia) Finished.

The last piece in the Oresteian trilogy by Aeschylus is "The Eumenides." When we left off in "The Libation Bearers," Orestes had exacted revenge on his mother for killing his father. After the murder of his mother and her lover, Orestes was chased off by the Furies, since now his mother's death must also be avenged.

In this third and final piece, Orestes escapes to Athens and pleads for Athena's help. A trial is held and not only is Orestes tried for the murder of his mother, but also Apollo (who offered him guidance). It is an interesting court scene, with Athenians serving as the jury.

I really enjoyed this piece of the trilogy. It finally puts an end to the circle of violence (to recap: Agamemnon sacrificed one of his daughters before leaving for the Trojan War, Clytemnestra and new lover murdered Agamemnon and Cassandra on their return from the war in revenge, and Orestes murders Clytemnestra and lover because they murdered his father. Complicated? yes).

During the trial, Apollo defends Orestes and basically explains that in a marriage, a man is more important than the woman-so defying the husband is worse than defying the wife. I thought this was an interesting way of proving a point, and while I certainly believe that partners in marriage are equal, it wasn't so in older societies.

Anyway, Orestes trial comes to a vote and the vote is tied. Athena sets a precedent and acquits Orestes, proclaiming that in hung juries, the accused should always be acquired from that point forward (she says something about not being too harsh).

While the first piece of this trilogy was by far my favorite, I would have to say that this comes in a close second. There is a lot of imagery in this scene as Orestes tries to escape the Furies and their need for vengeance. I also really enjoyed seeing Athena again. She has a huge role in The Odyssey and seems to be one of the Greek gods that interferes in a positive way in mortals' lives (at least from what I have seen).

The trilogy was fascinating, but now I need to read Electra and others to see what happens to Orestes' sister, as well as different takes on the family saga. And, once more, I was reminded that Greek works are not as difficult as I seem to think they are. Sure, they read differently, but that is solely because they are meant to be performed out loud. I never have to struggled through them like I think I am.

I also highly recommend the translation I read (by the wonderful Robert Fagles), as it really does capture the "out loud" qualities of the trilogy.

Book 112: "The Libation Bearers" (The Oresteia).

"The Libation Bearers" or "The Choephori" is the second in the Oresteia trilogy by Aeschylus. In the first play, "Agamemnon," we saw Agamemnon come home from the Trojan War to be murdered in his own house by his wife and her new lover.

This second play picks up where the first left off. Orestes, Agamemnon's son, arrives at his father's grave to mourn. He is accompanied by a friend, and they hide as Orestes' sister, Electra, also arrives at the grave with a company of women mourners (also known as the libation bearers). The siblings meet and once they prove their identity to one another (I think, from what I can remember, that Orestes was banished from home at some point).

Once the siblings known one another, there is a really long exchange between Electra, Orestes, and the libation bearers where they recall a dream, interpret it, and decide that Orestes must avenge his father's death and kill Clytemnestra (his mother).

Orestes and his friend disguise themselves, for back to his home, convince Clytemnestra that Orestes is dead, and eventually murder Clytemnestra and her lover. At the end of the play, Orestes is chased by the Furies while the chorus explains that rather than ending the cycle of violence, it continues as Orestes should not have killed his mother for killing his father.

Confused? I was a bit. But, I enjoyed seeing what happened after the first murder of Agamemnon. And from what I recall from The Odyssey, Agamemnon doesn't tell Odysseus what has happened to his son.

What I was surprised to see (and I really shouldn't have been), was the level of interference, again, from the gods, as well as from the dead. When they are consulting the dream, they think of what Agamemnon and the gos were prefer, rather than what might be just. This goes back to the whole "eye for an eye" ordeal, in that by taking revenge, you end up in an endless cycle (isn't this why gang violence gets so out of control?). Yes, of course Clytemnestra wasn't right in killing her husband to be with her lover, but it also isn't up to Orestes to take it into his own hands.

After all, isn't this why we have law and government? So that they can "clean up" the mess we make?

Anyway, it was interesting to see Orestes out his mother for the murderess she is. He really digs into her and rips her apart before doing the dead.

But what I really enjoyed about this play was the chorus and the libation bearers. One of the things I should have remember from reading Lysistrata earlier this year is that the chorus not only tells the audience backstory and much-needed information, they also interact with the characters on stage. I almost began to see them as the conscience for each of the characters as they grappled with their decisions.

Well, there is one more piece to go, and I know it'll start with Orestes still fleeing from the Furies, who want vengeance on him for murdering his mother. And since I am unfamiliar with what happens next, I am curious to see how it all plays out!

Book 112: "Agamemnon." (The Oresteia)

One of my favorite books in The Odyssey is when Odysseus travels to the land of the dead. There, he meets many figures from his past, including the great hero, Agamemnon. There, Odysseus learns what happened to Agamemnon when he returned home from Troy. When Agamemnon tells Odysseus of his murder and betrayal by his wife, it sets up the ending books of The Odyssey and what Odysseus finds when he returns home.

The fallen hero, Agamemnon, is the feature of the first of Aeschylus' triology The Oresteia. The first play is fittingly titled Agamemnon. It is short and can be easily read in one sitting. And like Homer's works, it should really be read out loud (it was performed after all). I read it out loud to my cats, but I am sure your plants would benefit as well (and no, my cats did not like my reading. They slept).

I was pretty excited to dive into this play. Since I have a deep and abiding love for The Odyssey, I am pretty familiar with what ghost Agamemnon tells Odysseus. But I have always wanted to know more. I got more.

The drama begins with Agamemnon's wife, Clytemnestra, declaring that Troy has fallen and Agamemnon will return home. She also boasts of some "inappropriate" things to the Chorus, who chastise her to the audience. It is here that we get the back story of Agamemnon.

His brother, Menelaus, is the man who WAS married to Helen, before she ran off with Paris to Troy. As Menelaus' brother, he had to go to war as well, and commanded much of the battle over Troy. The important backstory is what he did before he left. After seeing an oracle before departing, Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter to get a fair wind to Troy. Needless to say, Clytemnestra is not too happy with him. And she probably has reason to be angry.

When Agamemnon does return in the drama, he has little to say to Clytemnestra. You would think that after being gone for ten years he would have tender words for his wife, but he doesn't. Instead, the scene is tense. It also doesn't help that he brought a war prize home with him, a girl named Cassandra, who also happens to be a prophet of sorts. After Agamemnon and Clytemnestra venture indoors, Cassandra begins to prophesize, basically affirming that Clytemnestra has taken a lover and they plan to murder Agamemnon. She also utters that their son will avenge Agamemnon's death. Then she also goes inside.

The Chorus discusses this until two cries are heard from Agamemnon, and yep, his body is brought out at the hands of Clytemnestra and her lover. They have also murdered Cassandra.

The play more or less ends there, and it gives greater detail to the story Agamemnon tells Odysseus in The Odyssey. After being away from home for ten years, Agamemnon was betrayed in his own home. Again, I can't help but compare this to Odysseus' own homecoming to Penelope and the anxious feeling he must of had in his stomach. In Odysseus' case, however, he was gone 20 years. Interesting in comparing the two, right? I was fascinated!

What I loved most about diving into this was the further depth I got in this area of Greek history. I also like that the two writers, years and years apart, give us the story of his death in different ways.

In any case, I am looking forward to the second part, The Libation Bearers, to see how Agamemnon's son avenges his death.

Book 112: The Oresteia and Book Stats.

Title: The Oresteia
Author: Aeschylus (A really long time ago. Wikipedia tells me he was born around 525 B.C. and died in 455 B.C.)

First Published: Again, wikipedia gives me a date of 458 B.C. as for when it was performed, but who really knows?

My Edition: Penguin Classics-Robert Fagles translation (pictured at right)

Pages: 336

Other Works Include: The Persians, Seven Against Thebes, the Suppliants, Prometheus Bound

I feel guilty for neglecting the ancient works on my list. I really do have a large number of them left. And it isn't that they are terrifying, but rather than I feel like I am diving into some really intense history.

I knew I wanted to read a piece that was new to me, and I remember quite a few bloggers raving about Aeschylus during the Classics Circuit tour, which is why it has been on my nightstand for months (much like Ceremony was). So now that it is dusted off, time to give the old Greek a go.

What is really interesting about this one is that it is a trilogy (the only complete set surviving). That is pretty cool (like a really early version of The Hunger Games? I should probably go hang my head in shame for comparing this to modern fiction, huh?). It is amazing we have these works at all, considering that many of them have been destroyed or lost as thousands of years have gone by!

I want to just mention that it seems like the Greeks and some other Ancients always appear "difficult." I don't think a lot of us jump in without acknowledging that we are reading pieces that are old. And I mean OLD. But in my experience reading old epics, like Homer, they are very accessible, especially with a great translator. I cannot rave enough about Robert Fagles. If he has translated a work, that is the edition I want. Anyway, the moral is: don't be scared of the old stuff. Most of it almost seems modern! They were scandalous people, those Greeks! :)

Book 1: The Oral Tradition

Unfortunately I haven’t gotten through as much reading in the last two days as I would like, but I did manage to finish the first book of The Odyssey today. I flipped through the notes in the edition I own (I have the one translated by Robert Fagles) to refresh my memory.

I think most people who read The Odyssey in high school read a similar version to the one I first read. If you can remember back, its usually an abridged version that focuses solely on Odysseus and his journey back from Troy. It touches on the situation back home in Ithaca and of his son, Telemachus and his wife, Penelope.

That first time I read it, it was simply uninteresting. Yes, the Greek mythology parts of it were interesting, but I didn’t really get into the story. All I could see, as a ninth grader, was that this man was trying to get home and couldn’t.

When I was a freshman in college, I had to take the standard starting English class for all English majors. The first day of class, the professor handed us our syllabus. A few of my friends in the English program had taken the same class in the fall semester and they read some really interesting things. But to my surprise we only had two books to buy for the class: The Odyssey and The Norton Anthology of Classical Literature. So basically we were reading about dead Greeks. I was not so excited.

I was also not excited about my professor. He was probably in his fifties and wore some form of tweed every day. In fact, I think he had about 10 tweed pieces that he rotated so it always looked like he had something different on, but it was just matched differently. He also wore this hat every day that he seemed to set on his head at a jaunty angle. I was positive he wore it solely to look dashing.

He had the class set up so that every Monday we had to write an essay in a blue book, then on Wednesday we had to read them to the class if ours was “chosen.” It was a ridiculous set-up and week after week as my essay was not chosen, I had to listen to some of the most pompous essays ever written.

In addition to all of that, this professor had an irritating way of talking. Besides talking about the things he had accomplished and who he was related to, he had this habit of sucking air in through the corners of his mouth while his lips were pressed close in the middle. It was like he was trying to suck air in but the air was getting stuck on the spit in his cheeks, which rattled and sounded like a noise you shouldn’t make in public.

It was incredibly irritating. Especially when he did it at the end of every sentence.

But, even though I didn’t love the class, I did love the reading. This professor had a way of making it come alive. The first day we read The Odyssey we spent the entire two hour class talking about the opening passage, which I have typed and included here.

“Sing to me man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
the hallowed heights of Troy.
Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.
But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove—
the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all,
the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun
and the Sungod wiped from sight the day of their return.
Launch out on his story, Muse, daughter of Zeus,
start from where you will-Sing for our time too.”

When you read it in your head, its hard to see the passion and power of these lines. So my professor made us all stand up (the 15 of us still left in the class at this point-the others got out alive) and we recited it in loud voices until he was satisfied we had captured the strength of Homer’s words.

When I went to start it, I had a hard time getting into it. Then I realized that perhaps I needed to remember that lesson, when my tweed coated professor told us that to appreciate The Odyssey which is meant to be recited orally, you needed to give voice to the words and invoke the voices of the muses.

So while I didn’t stand up and proclaim in a loud voice, I stopped and started over, channeling passion into the words in my head. And what do you know, the story came alive. Telemachus and his problems with his mother suitors emerged and Athena’s involvement in getting Telemachus to realize his role as a man seemed clear.

It’s amazing. Whenever I talk about professors I didn’t like, my little tweed fellow was always one that topped the list. But as I finished the first book of The Odyssey I had a shattering revelation.

That crazy man actually taught me something.