OEDIPUS REX, OEDIPUS AT COLONUS, AND PHILOCTETES

Aristotle considered Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex the model tragedy, and it certainly is impressive.  There are great characters like the blind prophet Tiresias and the quick-tempered Oedipus: wonderful roles for an actor.  Also impressive is the way Sophocles maintains the “who done it” tension right though to the end of the play—even though we already know who did it!  The spectacle of Oedipus getting closer and closer to the truth, realizing more and more that the truth is terrible, but nevertheless persisting—only to find that the truth is unbearable—well, that’s the stuff of truly great theater.

But is there any catharsis here?  Aristotle thought that simply in seeing a great man brought low was enough to bring catharsis “through pity and terror effecting the purgation of these emotions.”

But I think catharsis needs something more, a change in the viewers.  Do we get that kind of catharsis?  In a way.  Don’t envy the prosperous and powerful. Don’t be too quick to judge because you may be condemning yourself.

But also there ought to be a catharsis for Oedipus himself, some consolation.  Maybe there is some: he did deliver Thebes after all!  But is that enough?

One of the curious things about this play compared to other tragedies is how distant the gods are.  Apollo is somewhere in the background—but maybe there’s a subtle message to the Athenian audience about the danger of trusting Apollo and his oracle at Delphi.

It’s possible that Sophocles himself wasn’t quite satisfied with the resolution of the play.  When he was nearly 90, Sophocles returned to the character of Oedipus once again, giving us the play Oedipus at Colonus.

In this play, the blind Oedipus has been wandering Greece, seeking a refuge.  He comes to Colonus outside Athens, sacred ground where the Eumenides hang out.  Can Oedipus find refuge there?  Yes!  Theseus says so.

But the oracles tell the Thebans they need him back: whichever side of the current civil war will win if they have Oedipus on their side. 

Creon (a rather different character than before) tries persuasion and then force to get Oedipus to leave his refuge and go to Thebes.  Creon kidnaps Antigone to force Oedipus to go with him.  But, once again, it’s Theseus to the rescue, and Creon has to return emptyhanded.

Next Polynices, Oedipus son, tries to persuade his father to go with him, to join the army attacking Thebes.  All he gets is a traitor’s curse.  Antigone tries to persuade her brother to abandon his attack: but he insists he can’t honorably do so.  He gets her to promise to bury him after he dies—adding a bit of clarity to Antigone’s behavior in the earlier play.

It's pretty bleak at this point—but then, as Oedipus approaches death, the gods themselves intervene.  They take Oedipus, and they are the one’s who bury his body—in a secret place, but somewhere near Athens.  Yes: the cursed Oedipus will be a blessing—but to the Athenians!

Now there is real Catharis is this: a true redemption for Oedipus.  But also important is the family theme.  We see the closeness of Oedipus and his daughters: family love making up for the darkness.  All kids go through a great disillusionment when they realize their sainted parents are only human.  For Antigone, that disillusionment was a particular disaster.  But now here faith in her father is redeemed: he’s a great man after all—in a sense, an even greater man than she had thought.

That brings us to another Sophocles play also written when Sophocles was nearly 90—Philoctetes.

In class we talk about the plot of the play, the characters, and the theme. 

One issue is the question of end and means.  Does a desirable end justify an unsavory means?  Homer describes Odysseus as the man who is “never at a loss.”  That’s an entirely admirable characteristic in the Odyssey.  Here, though, to achieve his admirable goal, Odysseus’ means are troublesome.  He must trick Philoctetes in order to bring him and his bow to Troy to bring the war to an end.  We’d likely be pretty sympathetic if that’s all there was to it, but to achieve his purpose, he uses the idealistic young man Neoptolemus (son of Achilles) as his tool. 

There’s an exploration of a pretty universal theme here.  Can youthful idealism be maintained in a world that abounds in trickery?  This is similar, of course, to themes raised by Machiavelli.  Noble behavior is great in a world where people or noble, but, in a world of trickery/treachery noble behavior won’t work.

Well, Neoptolemus (much to our delight) decides to reverse course.  He carries out successfully Odysseus plot—but then give the bow back to Philoctetes.

Now the question is whether or not Philoctetes will willingly come to Troy.  All sorts of reasons why he should.  He’ll be healed of his painful wound, for one.  But he just won’t do it.  Once again, there’s a universal theme.  We’ll hang on to our bitterness and unforgiveness rather than taking a course that we *know* we’ll be to our advantage but means giving up the grudges we nurse in our hearts.

Finally, Heracles comes down to resolve the dilemma.  Aristotle didn’t like endings like this, but it’s just right: sometimes, only divine intervention can help us let go of the bitterness in our hearts.

Overall, Philoctetes is a fine play, written by the best of the Greek playwrights.  Next time, we’ll leave behind Sophocles—the greatest of the Greek tragic playwrights—to discuss Euripides—the greatest of the Greek playwrights.