by Sophocles
43 stoned to death Since communal stoning by many citizens would have been an appropriate method of execution for Polyneikes, a traitor to his own people, a citizen who defied the city to bury a traitor would be fittingly sentenced to the same method of execution.
48–49 yanking the knot . . . pry it loose The image comes from weaving, strictly a woman’s occupation for the Greeks. Ismene might be sarcastically asking her sister how her weaving skills could be of any use in burying Polyneikes and confronting Kreon.
52 lift his body To cover Polyneikes’ heavy body with the substantial mounding of earth that Antigone envisions at 97–98, she will need Ismene’s help. Without that help she would be forced to perform a more limited ceremony—a dusting with earth, a poured libation, screams of grief—such as the Guard will soon describe.
58–70 our father’s / destruction . . . kin murder! Ismene recalls the gods’ savage punishment of their parents to highlight the difference between Oedipus’ and Jokasta’s “horrible deeds” and the lesser matter of a failed ritual, which she hopes the gods and the dead (“the Spirits,” 78) will understand and forgive.
71–72 how much worse / our own deaths Ismene imagines the threatened stoning as a much harsher method of death than their mother’s hanging, but “much worse” could also refer to the fact that there are no women left in the family to perform the sacred burial rituals mentioned in the note to 52—rituals that only women could perform. See Antigone introduction, pp. 621–622.
87–88 lie down / next to The Greek word Antigone uses here for lying down, keisomai, would be equally appropriate to describe lying in death (either before burial or in Hades) or having sexual relations with a lover (Blundell 1989, 110). The words used to describe their kinship, philê with philou, (translated here as “I who love him” next to “him who loves me”) accentuate both the emotional bond and the physical proximity of the bodies (Griffith, 135).
89 criminal conduct The Greek words hosia panourgesas (literally, “sacred transgressions”) refer primarily to the outlawed act of burying her “traitor” brother, but they also allude, given the way they are embedded in the sentence, to the incestuous love Antigone might feel for Polyneikes.
107 those who matter Most likely the gods; perhaps also Polyneikes. See 487–508, an elaboration of Antigone’s intention to please Hades and the gods of the underworld.
Exit ANTIGONE She leaves abruptly to look for Polyneikes’ body on the battlefield, ignoring Ismene’s warning and concern.
121–122 Morning sunlight . . . on seven-gated Thebes! The Elders begin a song that celebrates Thebes’ victory over Argos. Notably missing from the song is any reference to what preoccupies Kreon: punishing the dead body of Polyneikes. Joy and celebration, gratitude to Dionysos, Ares, and all the other gods, are paramount.
124 Dirke One of two rivers flowing through Thebes. The other is the Ismenos.
127 white shield The name of the region from which the attacking army comes, Argos, suggests silvery or shining whiteness.
128 sharp piercing bit The Argive army is portrayed as a wild vicious horse and the defending Thebans as the horse tamer who subdues it—by using a particularly nasty bit that digs into the horse’s jaw.
131 quarrelsome A pun, since Polyneikes’ name means literally “serial battler.”
133 white-feathered Eagle An emblem of Argos.
141–142 Firegod’s / incendiary pine tar Literally, “Hephestos’ pine-fed flame.” Balls of pine pitch were set afire and lobbed via catapult over defensive walls and onto wooden houses in besieged cities.
146 Dragon The ancestral “snake” with whom Thebans identified. See Oedipus the King, note to 96.
148 Zeus hates a proud tongue A reference to Kapaneus. See Kolonos, note to 1441.
169–170 trophies / for Zeus At the end of a battle, the armor of the defeated troops was collected and fastened to totem-like structures in honor of Zeus.
174 Victory The wingèd goddess Niké.
181 each god’s temple With the fighting over and victory secured, every god who might have played a part in helping Thebes win must be honored in his or her own temple, hence the festive midnight rounds.
183–184 Bakkhos, the god whose dancing / rocks Thebes Bakkhos, an alternate name for Dionysos, is characteristically worshipped by song and a drum-accompanied dance. He often makes his presence felt by causing an earthquake. See Oedipus the King, note to 250.
185–191 our new king . . . Council of the Wise This will be Kreon’s first consultation with this body of seasoned politicians since his assumption of power the previous day. It will turn out that he neither solicits nor welcomes their opinions.
204 defiled by his own brother’s blood Kin murder had been for centuries an intensely feared crime, since it inflicted infamy and uncleanness on the guilty; such defilement was difficult to cleanse. In this case, it will be impossible because the guilty brothers are both dead.
207–212 character, / policies . . . sound advice By setting standards according to which a ruler should be judged, Kreon focuses attention on his coming failures and blunders as a leader.
222–223 It’s only on board . . . true friends Kreon’s assessment of friendship, for him defined in the context of loyalty to one’s city, differs startlingly from Antigone’s. She believes that friends are made only at birth, an indication of her strong ties to family. The Greek word used in both of their assessments of “friendship” is philia. See note to 567–568.
239 ugly . . . disgrace The practice of refusing burial to dead enemies was a contentious political issue in fifth-century Greece that was dramatized in two other surviving plays, The Suppliants of Aeschylus and The Suppliant Women of Euripides.
266 talking annihilation I follow here Griffith’s interpretation of the Greek line 234 and his suggestion that a translation of the phrase to medon exerô should express the Guard’s fear that his story might turn him into “nothing”—i.e., get him killed.
279–280 thirsty / dust . . . rituals Polyneikes’ body was not buried or entombed as would have been customary, but appears to have received a minimal ritual from a source unknown. See note to 310.
310 inspired by the gods? The mysterious circumstances of the burial described by the Guard—no tracks, no footprints—suggest to the Leader that the gods have either performed or otherwise prompted the minimal burial of Polyneikes. If so, punishing a human agent would be dangerously offensive to the gods who have intervened on Polyneikes’ behalf.
340 strung up—and you’ll hang Kreon, with characteristic bluster, threatens to torture and kill anyone within earshot who refuses to track down and hand over the person who buried Polyneikes.
352 since you were born Implies that the Guard is a household servant or slave with whom Kreon has been long acquainted.
364–365 Wonders abound . . . astounding than man! Literally, “There are many wonders / terrors but none as wonderful / terrible as man.” The Greek word ta deina can mean either “wonderful” or “terrible.” Most scholars and translators stress both the positive and negative capacities of humans in the context of this ode (364–413). I omit the “terrifying” dimension in 364 because, on inspection, virtually all the examples of humankind’s activity in the ode contributed to the development of civilization. But my choice of the word “astounding” in 365 alludes to the human capacity for evil. At the end of the ode, when humankind’s “terrifying” or destructive aspect does surface, the Elders condemn it. The city’s banishment of an isolated “reckless and corrupt” overreacher reflects the Elders’ final judgment.
373 stallion-sired mules Literally, “the children of horses.” Mules were the preferred draft animals used on Greek farms.
404–405 follow the laws / Earth teaches him With these lines, Sophocles reminds us that Kreon and Antigone not only differ about which laws and which gods to obey, but that they understand “earth” in very different terms: “for Kreon, earth is the political territory of Thebes, defined by human law; f
or Antigone, it is the realm of the gods below, who protect the rites of the dead” (Segal 2003, 130–131).
463–464 piercing scream . . . nest robbed Grieving women were often compared to mother birds robbed of their nestlings. But here Sophocles’ simile suggests that Antigone is, in the traditional Greek sense, a bird as omen, thus a vehicle for delivering the gods’ will. Images of Polyneikes’ corpse, exposed as human carrion, intensify the significance. Other readings are equally pertinent and foreboding: the empty nest recalls the children who might have been born to Antigone and Haimon; Polyneikes’ empty grave, the result of battle and marriage to King Adrastos’ daughter Argeia (see note to 954–955); and the empty nest of Kreon after the suicide of his son and wife. See Tyrrell and Bennett, 66–67. (Also cf. Sophocles’ use of the metaphor in Oedipus the King [62] when the Priest calls Oedipus “a bird from god.”)
469 three cool swallows As a part of funeral ritual, ancient Greeks poured libations directly onto the grave for a dead relative to drink.
471–473 charged her . . . now this one. / Didn’t deny a thing Sophoclean scholars have long debated whether Antigone performed only the second or both “burials” of Polyneikes, especially since the first burial, according to the Guard, seems to have been performed by a being who left no evidence behind, and might well be a divine or other airborne creature. Here Antigone accepts blame for both burials. The difficulties in believing Antigone was the first duster of the body, however, are considerable: how did she do it without leaving a trace? The gods were entirely capable of intervening to protect Polyneikes’ body from animals until it could be given a proper honoring. (In Homer’s Iliad gods protected both Sarpedon and Hector.) What the gods cannot do is perform full burial rites, which are the responsibility of blood kin alone. For a most interesting and persuasive discussion of this issue, see Tyrrell and Bennett (54–62).
492 unwritten and infallible laws Such laws were a part of both legal and religious thought. Examples of unwritten laws include the imperative to bury the dead according to precise ancient customs, the prohibition against killing blood kin, and the permanent defilement of kin-slayers.
509–510 girl’s nature . . . her father’s In both his Theban and Athenian incarnations (in Oedipus the King and the Kolonos), Sophocles’ character Oedipus displays a reckless and hasty violence in thought and action that the Leader now finds in Antigone. Antigone’s “savage” (or oumós, “raw”) nature primarily attacks Kreon and the politics he represents, and Ismene for her refusal to help perform Polyneikes’ burial rituals. Griffith notes that oumós “is a very strong term to apply to anyone, esp. a young woman (elsewhere in tragedy used only of men)” (204). Segal notes that the word is reserved for the worst crimes and especially strong taboos pertaining to family (1981, 34). It might therefore be interpreted to include her incestuous feeling for Polyneikes implied at 87–88.
531 screaming, hysterical, deranged Ismene’s fit could be the result of fear for Antigone’s recklessness or of distress at her own refusal to help her sister bury Polyneikes. It is surely not what Kreon assumes: a fit of guilt as she contemplates treachery.
550 bite their tongues The verb Antigone uses here, upillousin, which I translate as “bite,” refers to the way in which a cowering dog clamps its tail between its legs.
563 Hades . . . rituals Antigone insists Hades makes no distinctions or exceptions among the dead. He demands they all be honored and buried.
567–568 I made no enemies . . . friends Traditionally this line has been translated as Jebb has it: “’Tis not my nature to join in hating, only in loving” (1888, 102). Lloyd-Jones and Wilson, however, state that physis, which Jebb translates as “nature,” must refer in this context to “one’s birth.” They argue that the Greeks believed one can make friends by birth, but never enemies (126). So translated in this context, the line makes clearer sense of Antigone’s conduct in the drama, since the Greeks’ sense of “hating,” and certainly our own, is evident throughout in Antigone’s temperament and her words. Lloyd-Jones and Wilson’s solution spares scholars many an interpretive contortion. Those producing the play who believe Antigone is referring to her loving nature might substitute: “It’s my nature to share love, not hatred.”
594 sprang to his defense At 56 Ismene admitted she was afraid of betraying Kreon, and at 95–96 she declared her refusal to defy the city.
602 Some think you’re right Those who agree with Ismene are living, principally Kreon; those who agree with Antigone, her dead family and the underworld gods, are in Hades.
603 equally wrong They can’t be equally wrong—at least in the gods’ eyes: Hades’ demand that kin be buried is confirmed in the resolution of the drama.
615 field to plow The metaphor of a woman’s body as a field or furrow for plowing, common in ancient Greece, echoes Athenian marriage contracts (Blundell 1989, 120). Athenian audiences would not have normally found Kreon’s use of it offensive, but his insensitivity to both Antigone and Haimon could have struck them as obscene (Tyrrell and Bennett, 78–79).
628–691 Lucky are those . . . catastrophe The particular evil the Elders have in mind in this ode is peculiar to families, and it cannot be evaded or defeated by any action or virtue of a family member. The ray of hope suggested by Antigone’s character and vigor as “the last rootstock” is snuffed out by her insistence on burying her brother and by Kreon’s “reckless talk” and mental “Furies,” but the failure of a generation to “protect its own youth” also applies to Kreon and Haimon as well. The ode offers a more general theory of human futility in its latter section: the gods punish humankind for achievement itself, and though hope sometimes is justified, it’s usually delusive and deadly. Also, the foolish can’t distinguish evil from noble motives; catastrophe results. If Kreon (onstage in the background) hears this ode, he seems unaware that it targets him.
644 Labdakids Oedipus’ ancestral family.
657 blood-drenched dust The image recalls the latest act committed by a member of the doomed House of Labdakos—Antigone’s sprinkling of dust over Polyneikes. But it also evokes the brothers’ dead bodies on the battlefield and, perhaps, the dust storm that swirled when Antigone performed the burial rites.
658 death gods Hades, Acheron, Persephone, Hermes.
660 Furies in the mind The goddesses called Furies—also referred to as the Erinys—typically punish the conscience for crimes committed against the family, especially kin murder, and they are often credited with unbalancing a person’s judgment. The Furies first “appear” in ancient tragedy (in Aeschylus’ Libation Bearers) to punish Orestes for killing his mother. Although the audience realizes that the goddesses have manifested themselves in Orestes’ mind, none of the other characters onstage is aware of their presence. For more on their role in Kolonos, where they preside in their more benevolent incarnation as the Eumenides, see notes to 44–50 and 92 in that play.
670 Olympos The mountain, visible from ancient Thebes, was the home base of the Olympian gods, from Zeus through Hephestos.
686–691 “Evil seems noble . . . hold off catastrophe” These words of wisdom refer to the ancient Greeks’ belief that the gods “destroy the judgment of a person bent on evil and destruction. As we might phrase it in our more psychologizing terms, the gods collaborate with the evil tendencies of the prospective criminal to lead him to his ruin” (Segal 2003, 140–141).
693 youngest of your sons Haimon has an older brother, Megareus. See note to 1095.
721 turn ice-cold in your arms Here Kreon’s words foreshadow how Haimon will wrap his arms around Antigone not long after she commits suicide, at 1371. Sophocles intensifies the irony with Kreon’s avowal at 699–700 that “we’ll soon have an answer” as to whether Haimon will defend his bride or support Kreon’s sentencing her to death—an answer that is “better than any prophet’s.”
730–731 Zeus / of family life Zeus Herkeios, literally, Zeus of the Fence (herkos), is a manifestation of Zeus who protects an extended family’s
welfare. He was worshipped within the boundaries of the house, usually at an inner courtyard shrine. Kreon implies that this “household” Zeus would disapprove of Antigone’s burial of Polyneikes (and her invocation of kinship law as the motive behind it), since the god would not approve a family member’s rebellion against the head of its household.
756 sapped my wits The Leader alludes ironically to Kreon’s earlier insult at 312, where he accused the Leader of sounding old and senile.
785 open him up Haimon compares his father to a clay writing tablet that opened and closed like a book or laptop computer. Kreon, says his son, has nothing inside him.
828 You will not marry her while she’s on this earth Another example of the irony in Kreon’s “prophetic” powers. The “marriage” of Haimon and Antigone will indeed take place after her death. See 1373–1375.
855–856 enough food to evade / defilement The city would be defiled if Antigone, Kreon’s blood relative, were executed at his command. By leaving enough food to sustain her for a while, Kreon might hope that she’ll commit suicide in despair, as indeed she will, and thus relieve Thebes of defilement. But Kreon was wrong to think his conduct could elude the defilement that will harm all Thebes. See Tiresias’ denunciation of Kreon at 1176–1208.
857 pray there to Hades Since Hades is Antigone’s favored deity, he would logically be the one she turns to in a desperate situation. But Hades has no reputation for saving lives. By saying “Maybe he will spare her” Kreon sneers at Antigone’s self-delusion.
861–880 Love, you win . . . our lives The Elders sing a brief celebration of Aphrodite and her son Eros, gods of Love—the emotion that Kreon leaves out of his calculations. He may remain onstage to hear the Elders enumerate Love’s power over humans and beasts, and to hear them give Love its rightful place among the ancient powers and laws, written or unwritten. The ode presents a double paradox: The allure of the bride is both irresistible and destructive, as Antigone’s allure for Haimon will prove to be. And what humans consider to be disastrous, the gods of Love deem as play or even mockery. (See Griffith, 260.)