Antigone and Other Myths

In Scene IV of Antigone, the Chorus and Antigone herself make mention of several other myths of Greek lore. These stories, which would have been part of the common knowledge of the original Greek audience, add new ways to look at and interpret Antigone’s position, mostly in negative ways. In this scene, composed entirely of the conversation between the chorus and the protagonist, the listener/reader is forced to weigh Antigone’s heroism and moral strength with her potential for perhaps too much rigidity and self-righteousness. The similarities and differences between these myths and Antigone’s position can help with this interpretation.
The first comparison is brought up by Antigone herself. She matches her moribund situation with that of Niobe, who died bereft of family. She says, “I feel the loneliness of her death in mine,” noting that her family is either dead or forbidden to her (in the case of her sister and fiancé) (Scene IV line 20). The other part of the legend of Niobe is the reason she was punished: her hubris in boasting that she was greater than the gods (at least, that her children were). Antigone does not really relate to this part of the myth – however, both Creon and Oedipus can be seen as claiming to have more power than the gods over the city’s and their families’ affairs. The Chorus recognizes this, responding to Antigone that “I cannot tell / What shape of your father’s guilt appears in this.” This seems to be more a plea for pity by Antigone than any realization of hubris or self-righteousness.
The second myth that Antifone is compared to is that of Danae. In this story, Danae is prophesied to bear a son that would kill her father; in order to avoid this, her father locks her up and prevents suitors from seeing her. But, like any who try to avoid their fate, Danae does indeed bear a son (Perseus) who eventually and accidentally kills her father. The parallels to Oedipus’s story are clear; the lessons for Perseus’s grandfather and for Oedipus’s parents were learned too late for fixing them. The part of Danae’s myth that Antigone is paralleled with is her imprisonment in a room with no doors; this is similar to the sepulcher that Antigone will die in. However, Danae was paid a visit by Zeus, and there will be no respite for Antigone; furthermore, Danae is really portrayed as a passive person who lets her father and son boss her around – clearly, Antigone is not similar.
The last two myths that are briefly made reference to by the Chorus are that of King Lycurgus and King Phineas. King Lycurgus was a king of Thrace, struck by madness as a punishment for pride and the death of Dionysis’s nursemaid who then killed his family and himself. Oedipus is really a more likely comparison for the family-destruction part; however, Antigone can be seen as prideful in some regards. King Phineas cast off his wife Cleopatra and imprisoned her in a cave, then allowing his second wife to be cruel to Cleopatra’s children. Perhaps the lesson here is that even being nobly born cannot save you from your fate and from death. These two comparisons are not very favorable for Antigone.
Although I set out to analyze the myths made reference to in this passage because I thought they might add clarity to an interpretation of Antigone, in the end I am left with more questions than before. Why are these myths mentioned, when they are difficult to use to interpret Antigone’s position? How can she be a helpless princess, a cruel king, and an evil king? I am not sure what the reader should take from these passages – perhaps the average play attendee in the original audience would have gotten more out of these references. (639)

Love and Loss

Prompt: “[Love] could have rescued Ivan Ilyich from all the fright and despair which terorized him during the final two weeks had he allowed it to. . . Love masters death [only at the end].”

Throughout the anti-epic of Ivan Ilych, Tolstoy reinforces over and over the shallowness and vapidity of the Russian’s life. His schooling, his work, his relationships; everything is based off of what it should be. There is no soul-searching in his life, since he is never faced with any true crises or anything that would make him question his motives or aspirations. Instead, Ivan’s family, friends, and social position allow him to coast through life, never dipping below the surface of any experience or emotion. It is not until the end, when Ivan is literally on his deathbed, that he is forced to reflect on the validity of the choices he has made.
Although his entire life is a tragedy, the saddest part of Ivan’s commonplace and ordinary existence is the lack of true emotion he feels for other people. The other judges and magistrates that Ivan works with feel no pity for him when he is getting sicker and sicker; instead, he notices them eyeing his position as a method of their own advancement. Nobody in his high level of polite society has a sincerely kind word or even tiny moment of compassion for Ivan. Just as he had used others to get ahead (as when he moved and his salary almost doubled), now he feels the flip side of a society that values only fun and frivolity.
In a small way, this is demonstrated through his relationships with his “closest acquaintances,” Tolstoy’s tongue-in-cheek way of referring to those supposed to be of Ivan’s inner circle. From the very first chapter, where Peter is used to illustrate the feelings others had for Ivan at his funeral, a time when people should be mourning and reflecting over the wealth and depth of one’s contributions to life. Instead, those at the funeral want nothing more than to get the formalities (ie, the insincere motions that seem appropriate) over and go play a simple, thought-free game of cards. Even this man who has known Ivan since childhood – supposedly one of his closest confidantes – cannot bear to spend a moment in the room with the coffin, in the presence of a reminder of his own mortality. Like Ivan before his mysterious demise, all the others prefer to think of death as something that happens to other people. This lack of connection between all the people in his life is a sad comment on the lack of access to emotion that pervades Ivan’s life.
The biggest loss of true connection that doesn’t hit Ivan until it’s too late is the sour nature of the relationships in his family. His daughter is a perfect socialite, beautiful and engaged to a man with many prospects, but instead of wishing to take care of her father or even feeling sad that he is dying, she is merely disgruntled when his illness casts a pall over her night at the opera. Ivan’s wife shows only as much compassion as she needs to in order to get her way; at the funeral she cares more about how much money she can get than truly grieving for her husband. Only Ivan’s son, the youngest and most innocent, seems actually sad about his father’s death; his face is pale and drawn at the funeral and he cries at Ivan’s bedside. When Ivan finally passes, it is unclear whether anybody in this world truly cared about him at all.
However, even sadder than the lack of feeling the others have for Ivan is the lack of feeling he can muster for the others. Even when he finally understands that he has not lived well, Ivan cannot feel much more than pity for himself. He cannot reach out to his wife and family; he does not wish to forgive and love them, but only to be forgiven. This is the saddest part of the whole tale; Ivan does not ever experience love, the most redeeming and empowering experience a human can have. If only he had been able to connect with those he is supposed to care and feel for at the very end, perhaps he could have reclaimed some meaning for his life. This is not to be.
The only true beacon of hope for humanity in the story is Ivan’s servant Gerasim, whose simple ministrations and honest, strong face tell the tale of a life lived with honesty and love. He tells his employer that he does not mind helping him, because Gerasim truly does feel pity for and an empathy with the bitter, dying old man. In the end, Ivan cannot crack the artificial façade of his life, although he does recognize its worthlessness. If Tolstoy had written in such a happy ending for his unheroic hero, the warning effect of the tale would not have been so strong; also, this sudden opening to love and light would have been very unrealistic. Clearly, though, Tolstoy believes that deep relationships with others and a true sense of love and compassion (completely absent from Ivan and his circle) are imperative for a well-lived life. (843)