Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Horaces Odes 1.30
Venus, queen of Cnidus and Paphos,
spurn your beloved Cyprus,
turn yourself to the elegant home
of Glycera inviting you
with all her incense.
Bring the burning boy with you -
let the Graces and Nymphs, ungirdled, hurry by -
and Youth, who's no good guest at all without you -
and Mercury.
Horace, Odes 1.30
To Sleep (Somnus)
Why do I deserve this? What crime did I do?
Youth, most tranquil of the gods, why do I
suffer alone without your gifts, Mr. Sleep?
The herds are silent, the birds and beasts, the
drooping treetops mimic exhausted slumber; the rushing
of the deep has died, the sea supine against the land.
Seven times now, Phoebus has seen my aching eyes
standing at attention; so often was I watched by
Oetaean and Paphian lamps, so often warm Tithonia
strode by my complaints and splashed me with her icy whip.
How can I go on? Not even if I had a thousand eyes
like divine Argos, alternated in vigilance,
never keeping watch with his entire person.
But what now? If someone, on some long night,
wrapped in a lady's entwining arms,
pushed you away freely, Sleep, come this way!
Don't compel my eyes by pouring
all your wings upon them - happier people
deserve that prayer - just tap me with your wand,
enough for me, or tread so softly and whisk on by.
(Statius, Silvae 5.4)
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Dionysus Triumphant
Well, after two years and far too much intervening life anxiety/events to mention, here we come to the end of the Bacchae. For all intents and purposes, this marks the end of the project, although I might take some time in the future to examine the translation as a whole, fix typos, incongruities, etc. No plans to attempt to publish this, but perhaps somewhere down the line - if anyone has use for an elegant, practical translation; I never claimed to be much of a poet. To talk only the slightest smidgeon about translation theory, my position is that we, the translators, have the obligation to transmit the meaning of the original text and its words across without adding too much of ourselves. It's Euripides' play, not my own. Not that 'adaptations' don't have value, because they do - but I find it unconscionable when the translator doesn't make clear the degree of creative adaptation used. For my text, assume 'as little as possible'.
Anyway, to the final confrontation of the play, when Dionysus appears (the precise moment at which he enters the stage has been lost) to Agave and Cadmus, to dispense their final punishment - expulsion from Thebes for the two of them, polluted and polluted by proxy by the kin-murder of Pentheus.
At one point in the not-too-distant past, I had the opportunity to deliver a lecture on this play, and this final moment is what I focused the last half of my discussion upon. What is the nature of Dionysus' justice? The guilt of Pentheus cannot be argued against, nor, really, can the ultimate degree of his punishment - it may be gruesome, but this is Greek tragedy, after all. The position of Cadmus, however, raises some difficult problems. If you recall the beginning of the play, he, along with Teiresias, was imploring Thebes to follow the correct worship of Bacchus, dancing and attiring oneself correctly, and at scene's end off they go, dancing away for the remainder of the play. Cadmus receives a terrible punishment, but only through transference - not only did he not commit any wrongdoing, but he was actively worshiping Dionysus the correct way!
His 'unjust guilt' calls into question the goodness, the ethical position of Dionysus which the play has been building toward. No longer, at this point, is he righting wrongs done against him, the smarmy, playful, clever-tongued trickster; now, in a turn of phrase a colleague of mine once used, here is Dionysus as hollow vengeance god. Euripides clearly establishes his morality as divine morality, outside the realm and understanding of humans, separate in cause and effect, divorced from normal compassion; the eternally calm stranger exposes his poisonous tranquility not only to his enemies, but to his supposed followers. In this way the 'lesson' of the play mirrors a core tenet of Greco-Roman mythology: the gods must be honored, but they should not be trusted, for they are cold, strange elemental forces in a chaotic, uncertain universe.
1330-1392
DI: [---The introduction to Dioynsus' speech is lost---]
You'll transform and become a serpent, and your wife,
the woman you married, will shapeshift, exchange her form
for a snake's, Harmonia, born mortal, daughter of Ares.
As the oracle of Zeus proclaims, you'll drive a carriage of oxen,
alongside your wife, as a leader of barbarians.
You'll sack many cities in countless campaigns.
And when they tear to pieces the oracle of Apollo,
they'll have a tormented homecoming. Ares
will rescue you, and Harmonia,
and hand you down life in the land of the blessed.
Not born from a mortal father, but from Zeus, I,
Dionysus, say these things. If you had been prudent -
which you didn't wish to be - you'd have prospered,
if you'd gained as an ally the offspring of Zeus.
CA: Dionysus, we beg of you, we've been unfair to you.
DI: You learned too late. You did not praise me when you should.
CA: We've learned these things. But you punish us too much.
DI: I was born a god. You have insulted me.
CA: The anger of gods shouldn't be like the anger of mortals.
DI: My father Zeus assented to all this long ago.
AG: Ah! It's decided, father, we're bitter exiles.
DI: So why do you delay what has to happen?
CA: My child, we've come upon a monstrous evil;
both you and your kin will have to suffer,
and I must endure misery. I will go to the barbarians,
an old man, a foreigner. So it was ordained for me
to lead a motley barbarian army against Greece.
And I will be a snake, and I will lead Harmonia,
child of Ares, my wife, in a snake's savage form,
against Greek altars and Greek burial-grounds,
as a leader of spearmen. I will not stop suffering
such evils, nor will I sail down Acheron's descent
and find myself any rest.
AG: O father, I'll be an exile, deprived of your presence!
CA: Why do you throw your arms around me, my child,
like a young swan does to one that's old and gray?
AG: Where can I turn, thrown out of my homeland?
CA: I don't know, my child. Your father's worthless as an ally.
AG: Farewell, palace, farewell, my home city.
I leave you behind, for misery,
an exile from your halls.
CA: Leave now, my child, for [the house/land] of Aristaeus--
[----line missing----]
AG: I grieve for you, father.
CA: And I for you, child.
and I weep for your sisters.
AG: For terribly did lord Dionysus
carry out this brutality
against your family.
DI: Because I suffered terribly; because of you;
my name was given no honor in Thebes.
AG: Goodbye, my father.
CA: Goodbye, o sorrowful daughter.
This journey and farewell will not be easy.
AG: Lead on, my attendants, so we can find
my pitiable sisters, companions in exile.
I will go to where
neither polluted Cithaeron can see me
nor where I can see it with my eyes
nor where anyone's ever dedicated a thyrsus.
Let other Bacchae care about these things.
XO: Many are the forms of divinities,
the gods plan many unexpected things;
what seems to happen is not fulfilled;
the god finds a path to the unforeseen.
And so such things conclude.
FIN
Notes:
Harmonia is Cadmus' wife, daughter of Ares and sometimes Aphrodite.
The legend of Cadmus the snake corresponds with the general mythic tradition where Cadmus takes on the form of a snake and has adventures in barbarian lands near the end of his life. Cadmus' death and afterlife, as prophesied here, are not well supported in the tradition.
Anyway, to the final confrontation of the play, when Dionysus appears (the precise moment at which he enters the stage has been lost) to Agave and Cadmus, to dispense their final punishment - expulsion from Thebes for the two of them, polluted and polluted by proxy by the kin-murder of Pentheus.
At one point in the not-too-distant past, I had the opportunity to deliver a lecture on this play, and this final moment is what I focused the last half of my discussion upon. What is the nature of Dionysus' justice? The guilt of Pentheus cannot be argued against, nor, really, can the ultimate degree of his punishment - it may be gruesome, but this is Greek tragedy, after all. The position of Cadmus, however, raises some difficult problems. If you recall the beginning of the play, he, along with Teiresias, was imploring Thebes to follow the correct worship of Bacchus, dancing and attiring oneself correctly, and at scene's end off they go, dancing away for the remainder of the play. Cadmus receives a terrible punishment, but only through transference - not only did he not commit any wrongdoing, but he was actively worshiping Dionysus the correct way!
His 'unjust guilt' calls into question the goodness, the ethical position of Dionysus which the play has been building toward. No longer, at this point, is he righting wrongs done against him, the smarmy, playful, clever-tongued trickster; now, in a turn of phrase a colleague of mine once used, here is Dionysus as hollow vengeance god. Euripides clearly establishes his morality as divine morality, outside the realm and understanding of humans, separate in cause and effect, divorced from normal compassion; the eternally calm stranger exposes his poisonous tranquility not only to his enemies, but to his supposed followers. In this way the 'lesson' of the play mirrors a core tenet of Greco-Roman mythology: the gods must be honored, but they should not be trusted, for they are cold, strange elemental forces in a chaotic, uncertain universe.
1330-1392
DI: [---The introduction to Dioynsus' speech is lost---]
You'll transform and become a serpent, and your wife,
the woman you married, will shapeshift, exchange her form
for a snake's, Harmonia, born mortal, daughter of Ares.
As the oracle of Zeus proclaims, you'll drive a carriage of oxen,
alongside your wife, as a leader of barbarians.
You'll sack many cities in countless campaigns.
And when they tear to pieces the oracle of Apollo,
they'll have a tormented homecoming. Ares
will rescue you, and Harmonia,
and hand you down life in the land of the blessed.
Not born from a mortal father, but from Zeus, I,
Dionysus, say these things. If you had been prudent -
which you didn't wish to be - you'd have prospered,
if you'd gained as an ally the offspring of Zeus.
CA: Dionysus, we beg of you, we've been unfair to you.
DI: You learned too late. You did not praise me when you should.
CA: We've learned these things. But you punish us too much.
DI: I was born a god. You have insulted me.
CA: The anger of gods shouldn't be like the anger of mortals.
DI: My father Zeus assented to all this long ago.
AG: Ah! It's decided, father, we're bitter exiles.
DI: So why do you delay what has to happen?
CA: My child, we've come upon a monstrous evil;
both you and your kin will have to suffer,
and I must endure misery. I will go to the barbarians,
an old man, a foreigner. So it was ordained for me
to lead a motley barbarian army against Greece.
And I will be a snake, and I will lead Harmonia,
child of Ares, my wife, in a snake's savage form,
against Greek altars and Greek burial-grounds,
as a leader of spearmen. I will not stop suffering
such evils, nor will I sail down Acheron's descent
and find myself any rest.
AG: O father, I'll be an exile, deprived of your presence!
CA: Why do you throw your arms around me, my child,
like a young swan does to one that's old and gray?
AG: Where can I turn, thrown out of my homeland?
CA: I don't know, my child. Your father's worthless as an ally.
AG: Farewell, palace, farewell, my home city.
I leave you behind, for misery,
an exile from your halls.
CA: Leave now, my child, for [the house/land] of Aristaeus--
[----line missing----]
AG: I grieve for you, father.
CA: And I for you, child.
and I weep for your sisters.
AG: For terribly did lord Dionysus
carry out this brutality
against your family.
DI: Because I suffered terribly; because of you;
my name was given no honor in Thebes.
AG: Goodbye, my father.
CA: Goodbye, o sorrowful daughter.
This journey and farewell will not be easy.
AG: Lead on, my attendants, so we can find
my pitiable sisters, companions in exile.
I will go to where
neither polluted Cithaeron can see me
nor where I can see it with my eyes
nor where anyone's ever dedicated a thyrsus.
Let other Bacchae care about these things.
XO: Many are the forms of divinities,
the gods plan many unexpected things;
what seems to happen is not fulfilled;
the god finds a path to the unforeseen.
And so such things conclude.
FIN
Notes:
Harmonia is Cadmus' wife, daughter of Ares and sometimes Aphrodite.
The legend of Cadmus the snake corresponds with the general mythic tradition where Cadmus takes on the form of a snake and has adventures in barbarian lands near the end of his life. Cadmus' death and afterlife, as prophesied here, are not well supported in the tradition.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Agave at the Turn
And now we have our anagnoresis, as Agave realizes, far too late, exactly what she is holding after encountering her father Cadmus returning from the forest with the rest of her scattered son. She, while not being the 'central figure' of the play (an unresolved question) undergoes the most typically tragic transformation, from unknowing to knowing.
The question of guilt, which I'll raise again next time, and responsibility backgrounds all of the action here. Pentheus' sin and the deservedness of his punishment are more or less inarguable, but the collateral damage inflicted seems incommensurate. It's true that Agave and her sisters did deny the divinity of Dionysus - but they've already been humiliated by being forced into Bacchantry, and being forced to murder one's offspring, and undergo ritual pollution, perhaps seems excessive. In a truly just world, all punishments would fit all crimes; it's not as in the Oresteia, where an abstract and unknowable Fate controls all things - Dionysus is right there! But, as is illuminated, Dionysus' justice is imperfect, strange, and unquestionable. And poor Cadmus? Poor Cadmus.
Anyway, this will all come into play at the end, which lies before us. Let's tear into the stichomathia.
CA: Follow me, my slaves, you carrying the pitiable weight
of my boy Pentheus, come over to the palace,
where I'm taking myself, weary from endlessly searching
for it, finding him torn to pieces in the folds of Cithaeron,
not all in one place, but scattered, hidden through the trees.
When I heard what my daughters had done,
I'd already entered the walls of the city, along with
old man Teiresias after we left the Bacchic dance.
I bent my course back to the mountain and cared for
the child who died because of the maenads.
At some point I saw Autonoe who bore Actaeon
to Aristaeus, and Ino then as well, still
stung by madness inside that miserable oaken forest.
Someone told me that Agave was waltzing around
in the Bacchic dance, but we heard nothing at all.
Ah! I see her face - it's a most terrible sight.
AG: Father, the greatest thing's happened, worthy for you to boast of-
you've sown the best daughters, better by far than all
other mortals. I mention them all, but especially me,
I who left behind the loom's shuttled rods
and became something greater, capturing beasts with these hands.
I carry this in my arms, as you can see, the magnificent
prize I took, a prize to be hung in front of your house.
Take it in your hands, father.
First exult in my quarry and
then call our friends to the feast! You're a lucky man,
blessed, for the things I've brought to fruition.
CA: O Pentheus! Grief! Immeasurable, impossible to look upon!
A murder you've carried out with those horrible hands!
You've paid a noble sacrifice to the gods
and are calling me and the Thebans to a feast.
It's terrible - first these evils were yours, and now they're mine.
The god acted justly towards us, but too much-
lord Bromios, born in this house, has destroyed it.
AG: So sullen and discontent the old age of men appears
to my eyes. I hope my child does well in the hunt,
and equals his mother's fortunes, whenever
he takes aim at beasts alongside the young men of Thebes.
But that boy, and he alone, goes to war
against the gods. You should admonish him, father,
he should hear it from you. Who will call him to my sight,
so he might see how happy I am?
CA: Ah, ah! When you learn what you've done, you'll
be tormented by a terrible pain. But if you stay forever
in the condition you're trapped in right now,
you won't be fortunate, but perhaps not unfortunate either.
AG: What about this would be unwell or agonizing?
CA: First you must direct your eyes to the sky.
AG: All right! What's this you're advising me to see?
CA: Is it the same, or has there been any change for you?
AG: It's brighter than before . . . and more . . . translucent.
CA: But is there some distraction in your spirit?
AG: I don't know the word for it. I'm made thoughtful,
having changed my thoughts around from before.
CA: Could you listen and distinguish it clearly?
AG: I think I've forgotten the things we said before, father.
CA: Which house did you come to after your wedding-song?
AG: As they say, you gave me to the sown man, Echion.
CA: What child was born to your husband in the palace?
AG: Pentheus, from the partnership of me and his father.
CA: Whose face do you hold now in the crooks of your arms?
AG: Of a lion, as the woman who went hunting told me.
CA: Look at it rightly. It's a simple effort to perceive.
AG: Ah! What am I looking at? What am I carrying in my hands?
CA: Inspect it and learn more clearly.
AG: I see a hideous pain - and I am wretched.
CA: Does it seem to you to resemble a lion?
AG: No. But I hold the lamentable head of Pentheus.
CA: Mourned by me before you recognized him.
AG: Who killed him? How is this in my hands?
CA: Unfortunate is the truth, as in this ill-starred hour.
AG: Tell me, although my heart fears what's about to come.
CA: You murdered him, your siblings alongside you.
AG: Where did he die? In what house? In which places?
CA: Where the dogs had earlier split apart Actaeon's body.
AG: Why did this unlucky man go to Cithaeron?
CA: He went to sneer at the god and also your Bacchae.
AG: How did it happen that we swooped down upon him there?
CA: You were in madness, the entire city was consumed by Bacchus.
AG: Dionysus has destroyed us, I've learned this now.
CA: You insulted him with hubris. You denied his divinity.
AG: Where's my beloved son's body, father?
CA: I searched all around, and I carry it here.
AG: Are all the parts together in good order?
[----Here at least one line is missing----]
AG: What part of my folly matched that of Pentheus?
CA: The same thing happened to you - impiety towards the god.
And so he united everything in single destruction,
you and he himself, with the result that he shattered the house,
and me, everyone that's bereft of male offspring,
the saplings of your womb, poor woman,
I see it all dying away, the worst, the harshest thing,
the man through whom the house recovered its sight-
you, my son, born from my son, held the palace together;
you were a terror to the city. No one who looked upon
your face ever wished to harm an older man,
because you grasped worthy and proportionate justice.
Now, I, great Cadmus, dishonored, will be thrown out
of the house, I who sowed the race of Thebans
and reaped that most beautiful harvest.
O most beloved of men - although you no longer live,
I still number you among my beloved, child -
no longer will you touch this chin with your hand,
embracing your mother's father and saying, o child,
"Who does you wrong, who dishonors you, old man?
Who is so wicked that he troubles your heart?
Tell me, I will punish any man who wrongs you, father."
Now I am miserable, and you are wretched,
a pitiable mother; kindred in suffering.
If any man think to despise the gods,
let him observe this man's death, and believe them real.
XO: I feel your pain, Cadmus. Your grandson paid the
appropriate penalty, but one painful to you.
AG: O father, you see how much this catastrophe affects me..
[---------------------------At least two lines
are missing, including the beginning of the next speech---------]
Notes:
Actaeon was a grandson of Cadmus and son of Autonoe who while hunting accidentally happened upon Artemis bathing in the wilderness. Artemis, to protect her reputation for chastity, turned Actaeon into a stag, whereupon he was killed by his own hunting dogs.
The text makes numerous references to the autochthonous foundation myth of Thebes, where Cadmus defeated a dragon and planted its teeth in the ground, after which they sprouted into men.
The question of guilt, which I'll raise again next time, and responsibility backgrounds all of the action here. Pentheus' sin and the deservedness of his punishment are more or less inarguable, but the collateral damage inflicted seems incommensurate. It's true that Agave and her sisters did deny the divinity of Dionysus - but they've already been humiliated by being forced into Bacchantry, and being forced to murder one's offspring, and undergo ritual pollution, perhaps seems excessive. In a truly just world, all punishments would fit all crimes; it's not as in the Oresteia, where an abstract and unknowable Fate controls all things - Dionysus is right there! But, as is illuminated, Dionysus' justice is imperfect, strange, and unquestionable. And poor Cadmus? Poor Cadmus.
Anyway, this will all come into play at the end, which lies before us. Let's tear into the stichomathia.
CA: Follow me, my slaves, you carrying the pitiable weight
of my boy Pentheus, come over to the palace,
where I'm taking myself, weary from endlessly searching
for it, finding him torn to pieces in the folds of Cithaeron,
not all in one place, but scattered, hidden through the trees.
When I heard what my daughters had done,
I'd already entered the walls of the city, along with
old man Teiresias after we left the Bacchic dance.
I bent my course back to the mountain and cared for
the child who died because of the maenads.
At some point I saw Autonoe who bore Actaeon
to Aristaeus, and Ino then as well, still
stung by madness inside that miserable oaken forest.
Someone told me that Agave was waltzing around
in the Bacchic dance, but we heard nothing at all.
Ah! I see her face - it's a most terrible sight.
AG: Father, the greatest thing's happened, worthy for you to boast of-
you've sown the best daughters, better by far than all
other mortals. I mention them all, but especially me,
I who left behind the loom's shuttled rods
and became something greater, capturing beasts with these hands.
I carry this in my arms, as you can see, the magnificent
prize I took, a prize to be hung in front of your house.
Take it in your hands, father.
First exult in my quarry and
then call our friends to the feast! You're a lucky man,
blessed, for the things I've brought to fruition.
CA: O Pentheus! Grief! Immeasurable, impossible to look upon!
A murder you've carried out with those horrible hands!
You've paid a noble sacrifice to the gods
and are calling me and the Thebans to a feast.
It's terrible - first these evils were yours, and now they're mine.
The god acted justly towards us, but too much-
lord Bromios, born in this house, has destroyed it.
AG: So sullen and discontent the old age of men appears
to my eyes. I hope my child does well in the hunt,
and equals his mother's fortunes, whenever
he takes aim at beasts alongside the young men of Thebes.
But that boy, and he alone, goes to war
against the gods. You should admonish him, father,
he should hear it from you. Who will call him to my sight,
so he might see how happy I am?
CA: Ah, ah! When you learn what you've done, you'll
be tormented by a terrible pain. But if you stay forever
in the condition you're trapped in right now,
you won't be fortunate, but perhaps not unfortunate either.
AG: What about this would be unwell or agonizing?
CA: First you must direct your eyes to the sky.
AG: All right! What's this you're advising me to see?
CA: Is it the same, or has there been any change for you?
AG: It's brighter than before . . . and more . . . translucent.
CA: But is there some distraction in your spirit?
AG: I don't know the word for it. I'm made thoughtful,
having changed my thoughts around from before.
CA: Could you listen and distinguish it clearly?
AG: I think I've forgotten the things we said before, father.
CA: Which house did you come to after your wedding-song?
AG: As they say, you gave me to the sown man, Echion.
CA: What child was born to your husband in the palace?
AG: Pentheus, from the partnership of me and his father.
CA: Whose face do you hold now in the crooks of your arms?
AG: Of a lion, as the woman who went hunting told me.
CA: Look at it rightly. It's a simple effort to perceive.
AG: Ah! What am I looking at? What am I carrying in my hands?
CA: Inspect it and learn more clearly.
AG: I see a hideous pain - and I am wretched.
CA: Does it seem to you to resemble a lion?
AG: No. But I hold the lamentable head of Pentheus.
CA: Mourned by me before you recognized him.
AG: Who killed him? How is this in my hands?
CA: Unfortunate is the truth, as in this ill-starred hour.
AG: Tell me, although my heart fears what's about to come.
CA: You murdered him, your siblings alongside you.
AG: Where did he die? In what house? In which places?
CA: Where the dogs had earlier split apart Actaeon's body.
AG: Why did this unlucky man go to Cithaeron?
CA: He went to sneer at the god and also your Bacchae.
AG: How did it happen that we swooped down upon him there?
CA: You were in madness, the entire city was consumed by Bacchus.
AG: Dionysus has destroyed us, I've learned this now.
CA: You insulted him with hubris. You denied his divinity.
AG: Where's my beloved son's body, father?
CA: I searched all around, and I carry it here.
AG: Are all the parts together in good order?
[----Here at least one line is missing----]
AG: What part of my folly matched that of Pentheus?
CA: The same thing happened to you - impiety towards the god.
And so he united everything in single destruction,
you and he himself, with the result that he shattered the house,
and me, everyone that's bereft of male offspring,
the saplings of your womb, poor woman,
I see it all dying away, the worst, the harshest thing,
the man through whom the house recovered its sight-
you, my son, born from my son, held the palace together;
you were a terror to the city. No one who looked upon
your face ever wished to harm an older man,
because you grasped worthy and proportionate justice.
Now, I, great Cadmus, dishonored, will be thrown out
of the house, I who sowed the race of Thebans
and reaped that most beautiful harvest.
O most beloved of men - although you no longer live,
I still number you among my beloved, child -
no longer will you touch this chin with your hand,
embracing your mother's father and saying, o child,
"Who does you wrong, who dishonors you, old man?
Who is so wicked that he troubles your heart?
Tell me, I will punish any man who wrongs you, father."
Now I am miserable, and you are wretched,
a pitiable mother; kindred in suffering.
If any man think to despise the gods,
let him observe this man's death, and believe them real.
XO: I feel your pain, Cadmus. Your grandson paid the
appropriate penalty, but one painful to you.
AG: O father, you see how much this catastrophe affects me..
[---------------------------At least two lines
are missing, including the beginning of the next speech---------]
Notes:
Actaeon was a grandson of Cadmus and son of Autonoe who while hunting accidentally happened upon Artemis bathing in the wilderness. Artemis, to protect her reputation for chastity, turned Actaeon into a stag, whereupon he was killed by his own hunting dogs.
The text makes numerous references to the autochthonous foundation myth of Thebes, where Cadmus defeated a dragon and planted its teeth in the ground, after which they sprouted into men.
Two Sets of Woman
Whew, so I realize that it's now been over two years since I last updated this blog in its intended fashion, having only bastardized it as a mechanism for drilling important bits of information into my appreciably dense skull in order to overcome the significant hurdle of my oral exam, and then abandoning it entirely in favor of focusing (if that term veritably describes what I've been truly doing) on the production of my dissertation, which progresses smoothly, if not always satisfying-ly. That said, I'm hoping to bring this project to a close in the not-so-distant future, especially since events have taken us to close to the play's conclusion. Hopefully I can recapture the tone and spirit of the original part of the translation...although I don't quite feel like expending the effort to reread that far back. Hopefully Present Self can be on the same page, metaphorically as well as actually, as Past Self. Future Self will thank us, buddy.
And so we re-approach the text as the moment of dramatic crisis approaches: Agave returns to Thebes at the start, carrying the dismembered Pentheus' head, still unaware of what has really transpired. Her imperfect knowledge as a 'temporary' Bacchant, a Theban approximation of Maenad worship, creates an asymmetry with the perfect knowledge of the 'true' Bacchae, the Asian followers of Dionysus who form the chorus - and when confronted with the horror before them, recoil despite their devotion to their orgiastic overlord. They begin with a curtailed dance of victory, but as their thoughts turn from the defeated Pentheus to the tragic Agave, horror, if not pity, creeps into their words. While before they were perfectly content to revel in victory, the empathy of person to person, woman to fellow woman, and perhaps mother to mother (as Bacchae, as seen in the idealized forest scene where they suckle baby animals, embody proper motherhood, considering also that enshrining Semele and her fulfillment of proper motherhood forms the entire reason for Dionysus' visit to Thebes in the first place).
Within formalist notions of tragedy, this song and the following scene construct Agave as tragic figure and the centerpiece of the tragedy; not Pentheus the (stereo?)typical tragic king or Dionysus the semi-central character. Leaving aside that admittedly-interesting question, we see that Agave starts the process of tragic anagnoresis: the coming to understand one's true situation through the slow unveiling of things. The scene starts with her unawares, afflicted with something which is not aporia, but misapprehending the true nature of things, directly contradicting a truth which is coming more and more clearly to light - a frequent feature of the tragic stage; see Odysseus' painfully slow self-reveal in the Oedipus Rex. But here the mechanism by which information enters her consciousness is not the clues and facts uncovered by events, but the metaphorical unveiling of her mind, as the fog of Dionysus' spell slowly begins to lift.
1153-1215
CHORUS:
Let us begin the Bacchic dance,
Let us shout aloud the misfortune
fallen on Pentheus born from snakes,
the man who took up a woman's dress
and the narthex, certain death,
the beautiful wand of Bacchus,
having a bull as misfortune's guide.
Cadmeian Bacchae,
you've achieved a glorious victory-
the result is lamentation and tears.
A fine contest! To drench your hand,
dripping in your child's blood!
But wait, I see Agave, mother of Pentheus,
hurrying home, her eyes agog.
Join in Dionysus' revel! Euoi!
AG: Asian Bacchae -
XO: O! Why do you bother me?
AG: We're carrying from the mountains
a fresh-cut bit of vine for the palace,
a reverent prize!
XO: I see and receive you, fellow reveler.
AG: I caught this one without any nets,
the young cub of a wild lion,
as you can see.
XO: In which wilderness?
AG: Cithaeron-
XO: Cithaeron?
AG: The place slaughtered him.
XO: Who cast the spear?
AG: Mine the prize, first of all.
Agave the chosen, our bands praise her.
XO: And who else?
AG: Honor is to Cadmus [--section perhaps missing--]
XO: Cadmus??
AG: His family laid hands on the beast,
but after I did, after me! It was a wondrous hunting.
XO: [---At least one line,
perhaps more, is missing---]
AG: Now partake of the feast!
XO: What? Partake? You're ruined.
AG: A young calf, with soft hair just
starting to bloom on his chin, under
his long-maned crest.
XO: It seems akin to a field-dwelling beast in its hair.
AG: The Bacchic one, the hunter,
the wise one, wisely set
his maenads in motion against this beast.
XO: Yes, the lord is a hunter.
AG: Do you praise him?
XO: I praise him.
AG: Swiftly the Cadmeian ones...
XO: And the child Pentheus-
AG: His mother will be praised
for having seized this wild, lion-like creature.
XO: It's extraordinary!
AG: And extraordinarily done!
XO: Do you rejoice in it?
AG: I rejoiced,
this incredible, incredible, and portentous
thing I accomplished in the hunt!
XO: Look now, wretch, at the wild prize of victory
which you came bearing for the townspeople.
AG: O inhabitants of the beautiful-towered city
of the land of Thebes, come and see the beast,
the animal the daughters of Cadmus caught,
not with Thessalian javelins and their missiles,
not with nets, but with our white arms
and our fingertips. So should anyone boast
and acquire in vain the spearmaker's instruments?
I seized this beast with this, my own hand,
and we tore our target's joints apart!
Where's my elderly father? Have him come near.
And where's my son Pentheus? Have him get a ladder
and set it fixed up against the house,
so he can fasten to the triglyph tablets
this lion's head that I caught and brought back to the house.
And so we re-approach the text as the moment of dramatic crisis approaches: Agave returns to Thebes at the start, carrying the dismembered Pentheus' head, still unaware of what has really transpired. Her imperfect knowledge as a 'temporary' Bacchant, a Theban approximation of Maenad worship, creates an asymmetry with the perfect knowledge of the 'true' Bacchae, the Asian followers of Dionysus who form the chorus - and when confronted with the horror before them, recoil despite their devotion to their orgiastic overlord. They begin with a curtailed dance of victory, but as their thoughts turn from the defeated Pentheus to the tragic Agave, horror, if not pity, creeps into their words. While before they were perfectly content to revel in victory, the empathy of person to person, woman to fellow woman, and perhaps mother to mother (as Bacchae, as seen in the idealized forest scene where they suckle baby animals, embody proper motherhood, considering also that enshrining Semele and her fulfillment of proper motherhood forms the entire reason for Dionysus' visit to Thebes in the first place).
Within formalist notions of tragedy, this song and the following scene construct Agave as tragic figure and the centerpiece of the tragedy; not Pentheus the (stereo?)typical tragic king or Dionysus the semi-central character. Leaving aside that admittedly-interesting question, we see that Agave starts the process of tragic anagnoresis: the coming to understand one's true situation through the slow unveiling of things. The scene starts with her unawares, afflicted with something which is not aporia, but misapprehending the true nature of things, directly contradicting a truth which is coming more and more clearly to light - a frequent feature of the tragic stage; see Odysseus' painfully slow self-reveal in the Oedipus Rex. But here the mechanism by which information enters her consciousness is not the clues and facts uncovered by events, but the metaphorical unveiling of her mind, as the fog of Dionysus' spell slowly begins to lift.
1153-1215
CHORUS:
Let us begin the Bacchic dance,
Let us shout aloud the misfortune
fallen on Pentheus born from snakes,
the man who took up a woman's dress
and the narthex, certain death,
the beautiful wand of Bacchus,
having a bull as misfortune's guide.
Cadmeian Bacchae,
you've achieved a glorious victory-
the result is lamentation and tears.
A fine contest! To drench your hand,
dripping in your child's blood!
But wait, I see Agave, mother of Pentheus,
hurrying home, her eyes agog.
Join in Dionysus' revel! Euoi!
AG: Asian Bacchae -
XO: O! Why do you bother me?
AG: We're carrying from the mountains
a fresh-cut bit of vine for the palace,
a reverent prize!
XO: I see and receive you, fellow reveler.
AG: I caught this one without any nets,
the young cub of a wild lion,
as you can see.
XO: In which wilderness?
AG: Cithaeron-
XO: Cithaeron?
AG: The place slaughtered him.
XO: Who cast the spear?
AG: Mine the prize, first of all.
Agave the chosen, our bands praise her.
XO: And who else?
AG: Honor is to Cadmus [--section perhaps missing--]
XO: Cadmus??
AG: His family laid hands on the beast,
but after I did, after me! It was a wondrous hunting.
XO: [---At least one line,
perhaps more, is missing---]
AG: Now partake of the feast!
XO: What? Partake? You're ruined.
AG: A young calf, with soft hair just
starting to bloom on his chin, under
his long-maned crest.
XO: It seems akin to a field-dwelling beast in its hair.
AG: The Bacchic one, the hunter,
the wise one, wisely set
his maenads in motion against this beast.
XO: Yes, the lord is a hunter.
AG: Do you praise him?
XO: I praise him.
AG: Swiftly the Cadmeian ones...
XO: And the child Pentheus-
AG: His mother will be praised
for having seized this wild, lion-like creature.
XO: It's extraordinary!
AG: And extraordinarily done!
XO: Do you rejoice in it?
AG: I rejoiced,
this incredible, incredible, and portentous
thing I accomplished in the hunt!
XO: Look now, wretch, at the wild prize of victory
which you came bearing for the townspeople.
AG: O inhabitants of the beautiful-towered city
of the land of Thebes, come and see the beast,
the animal the daughters of Cadmus caught,
not with Thessalian javelins and their missiles,
not with nets, but with our white arms
and our fingertips. So should anyone boast
and acquire in vain the spearmaker's instruments?
I seized this beast with this, my own hand,
and we tore our target's joints apart!
Where's my elderly father? Have him come near.
And where's my son Pentheus? Have him get a ladder
and set it fixed up against the house,
so he can fasten to the triglyph tablets
this lion's head that I caught and brought back to the house.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
An End to Greek History: The Greek Fourth Century
If it seems like I'm ignoring the Peloponnesian War, yes, I mainly am, since I've read about it roughly a million times and had to teach it to the ungrateful youth about as often. Maybe I'll say something about the causes later on. Anyway:
At the end of the Peloponnesian War, Sparta put the Thirty Tyrants into power in Athens. They included Critias, former student of Socrates, and Theramenes, a moderate member who was executed during the reign of terror for opposing the murder of inhabitants of the city and the confiscation of their property. See Lysias, Kata Erastosthenes. A force of exiles under Thrasyboulos seized fortified positions close to the city at Phyle and Munichia and defeated a Spartan/oligarchic force before retaking the city after the tyrants fled to Eleusis. This resulted in a general amnesty, and divisions inside the Spartan government (Lysander and Pausanias) resulted in the city mainly being left to its own devices.
The Spartan hegemony, while it lasted, was oppressive and caused rifts with the other states of Greece, resulting in the Corinthian War (395-87) versus an alliance of Thebes, Athens, Corinth, and Argos, which resulted in a return to the status quo. Despite early Spartan victories, such as at Coroneia, they suffered low-level reverses later on and in the islands, which resulted in the Persian-brokered Peace of Antalcidas. Sparta soon dispersed Mantinea and undertook a successful offensive in Chalcidice.
In 379 a rebellious force seized the Cadmea (the acropolis of Thebes) away from the Spartans who had controlled it since 382. This was the first major challenge to the Peloponnesian League, and forced the Spartans to withdraw from Boeotia and campaign against it for the next few years. Athens, reviving quickly, put together the Second Athenian Sea League in 378 to protect itself, its grain tithe at the Bosporus, and the interests of small maritime poleis. Under the leaders Timotheus and Iphicles, they expanded Athenian influence in Corcyra, Thrace, Chalcidice, and inducted new members into the League. The League would be weakened by secessions in the 360s which coincided with a Social War against its allies.
Theban power became worrisome to Athens and Sparta following the destruction of Plataea (372). After a quibble during a peace negotiations, matters came to a head when the Theban army under Epaminondas crushed a Spartan force at Leuctra (371), the first major Spartan defeat on land. Afterwards Thebes stirred up unrest in Arcadia and elsewhere in the Peloponnese; they liberated Messenia from Spartan control in 369, forever weakening Sparta's power base. The resulting peace a couple years later resulted in the dissolution of the Peloponnesian League. Problems with the alliance in Arcadia led to a Theban expedition that ended at Mantinea (362) with an indecisive battle in which Epaminondas was killed.
Philip II rose to power in 360. Involved in conflict with the Illyrians, he expanded into the Chalcidice, taking control of Amphipolis, Potidaea, and Pydna. Athens had insufficient power to oppose him at the time, so this ended in negotiated peace. The rise of Macedon coincided with a series of Sacred Wars in Thessaly and Boeotia in which the Amphictyonic League declared war in response to a series of religious transgressions against Delphi and the management of its money. Philip assisted in campaigns against the Phocians and their allies in 353/2 (Sacred War III) which resulted in his expansion into Thessaly. Afterwards he campaigned in Thrace and conquered Olynthus (348) in Chalcidice (hence the Olynthiacs). Athenian concern about his next move led to the Peace of Philocrates (346).
His control of Greece started with a pro-Macedonian party taking power in Phocis, by which he gained control of Thermopylae (346). He spent the next years fighting in Illyria while Athens was internally divided over how to approach Maceon; the rivalry of Aeschines and Demosthenes flourished around this time, with Demosthenes taking the more stringent approach. They resolved to resist and opposed Philip's campaigns in Epirus (343/2) and near Byzantium (340). After disappointments there and in Thrace, he intervened in the Fourth Sacred War (339-8) against Amphissa; Athens, despite being anti-Amphissa, aligned against him. He outflanked Thermopylae by seizing Elatea, and after negotiations failed, defeated a combined Athenian and Theban force at Chaeronea (338). In the aftermath, he forced the states south of Macedon save Sparta into the League of Corinth, which promptly declared war on Persia.
Philip's son Alexander, of course, would conquer Persia with a combined Greek army and die in Babylon in 323.
At the end of the Peloponnesian War, Sparta put the Thirty Tyrants into power in Athens. They included Critias, former student of Socrates, and Theramenes, a moderate member who was executed during the reign of terror for opposing the murder of inhabitants of the city and the confiscation of their property. See Lysias, Kata Erastosthenes. A force of exiles under Thrasyboulos seized fortified positions close to the city at Phyle and Munichia and defeated a Spartan/oligarchic force before retaking the city after the tyrants fled to Eleusis. This resulted in a general amnesty, and divisions inside the Spartan government (Lysander and Pausanias) resulted in the city mainly being left to its own devices.
The Spartan hegemony, while it lasted, was oppressive and caused rifts with the other states of Greece, resulting in the Corinthian War (395-87) versus an alliance of Thebes, Athens, Corinth, and Argos, which resulted in a return to the status quo. Despite early Spartan victories, such as at Coroneia, they suffered low-level reverses later on and in the islands, which resulted in the Persian-brokered Peace of Antalcidas. Sparta soon dispersed Mantinea and undertook a successful offensive in Chalcidice.
In 379 a rebellious force seized the Cadmea (the acropolis of Thebes) away from the Spartans who had controlled it since 382. This was the first major challenge to the Peloponnesian League, and forced the Spartans to withdraw from Boeotia and campaign against it for the next few years. Athens, reviving quickly, put together the Second Athenian Sea League in 378 to protect itself, its grain tithe at the Bosporus, and the interests of small maritime poleis. Under the leaders Timotheus and Iphicles, they expanded Athenian influence in Corcyra, Thrace, Chalcidice, and inducted new members into the League. The League would be weakened by secessions in the 360s which coincided with a Social War against its allies.
Theban power became worrisome to Athens and Sparta following the destruction of Plataea (372). After a quibble during a peace negotiations, matters came to a head when the Theban army under Epaminondas crushed a Spartan force at Leuctra (371), the first major Spartan defeat on land. Afterwards Thebes stirred up unrest in Arcadia and elsewhere in the Peloponnese; they liberated Messenia from Spartan control in 369, forever weakening Sparta's power base. The resulting peace a couple years later resulted in the dissolution of the Peloponnesian League. Problems with the alliance in Arcadia led to a Theban expedition that ended at Mantinea (362) with an indecisive battle in which Epaminondas was killed.
Philip II rose to power in 360. Involved in conflict with the Illyrians, he expanded into the Chalcidice, taking control of Amphipolis, Potidaea, and Pydna. Athens had insufficient power to oppose him at the time, so this ended in negotiated peace. The rise of Macedon coincided with a series of Sacred Wars in Thessaly and Boeotia in which the Amphictyonic League declared war in response to a series of religious transgressions against Delphi and the management of its money. Philip assisted in campaigns against the Phocians and their allies in 353/2 (Sacred War III) which resulted in his expansion into Thessaly. Afterwards he campaigned in Thrace and conquered Olynthus (348) in Chalcidice (hence the Olynthiacs). Athenian concern about his next move led to the Peace of Philocrates (346).
His control of Greece started with a pro-Macedonian party taking power in Phocis, by which he gained control of Thermopylae (346). He spent the next years fighting in Illyria while Athens was internally divided over how to approach Maceon; the rivalry of Aeschines and Demosthenes flourished around this time, with Demosthenes taking the more stringent approach. They resolved to resist and opposed Philip's campaigns in Epirus (343/2) and near Byzantium (340). After disappointments there and in Thrace, he intervened in the Fourth Sacred War (339-8) against Amphissa; Athens, despite being anti-Amphissa, aligned against him. He outflanked Thermopylae by seizing Elatea, and after negotiations failed, defeated a combined Athenian and Theban force at Chaeronea (338). In the aftermath, he forced the states south of Macedon save Sparta into the League of Corinth, which promptly declared war on Persia.
Philip's son Alexander, of course, would conquer Persia with a combined Greek army and die in Babylon in 323.
Note to Self: The Reforms of Cleisthenes
Cleisthenes (not to be confused with Cleisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon) was an Athenian statesman who carried through a "democratic" reform package in the year 508/7. He was an Alcmaeonid and connected to the Sicyonid dynasty through it. After the expulsion of Hippias (510), he stood as rival to Isagoras, leader of a pro-Spartan faction; after he was exiled, he was recalled when a Spartan force tried to install a pro-Spartan oligarchy. This resulted in a Spartan and allied advance on Athens being repulsed.
Cleisthenes' power base can be explained by a 'regionalist' interpretation of city politics: he was allied with the city faction, while Isagoras was connected to a group in eastern Attica.
Cleisthenes' reform package:
-He split the previous four tribes into ten and distributed the demes (roughly 140 in number) among them. Military organization was based on the tribes; each had a taxiarch and a strategos. This enabled a more even division of service amidst a growing, partially immigrant population.
-He created the Council of Five Hundred, fifty from each tribe with the prytany among them presiding for a month. It prepared business for the public assembly. They were chosen by lot.
-He split Attica into three large regions (city, coast, and interior) and split each into ten trittyes; each tribe had one trittys from each region.
-At this time the nine archons was increased to ten, one elected from each tribe.
-It is possible that he instituted the practice of ostracism.
Cleisthenes' power base can be explained by a 'regionalist' interpretation of city politics: he was allied with the city faction, while Isagoras was connected to a group in eastern Attica.
Cleisthenes' reform package:
-He split the previous four tribes into ten and distributed the demes (roughly 140 in number) among them. Military organization was based on the tribes; each had a taxiarch and a strategos. This enabled a more even division of service amidst a growing, partially immigrant population.
-He created the Council of Five Hundred, fifty from each tribe with the prytany among them presiding for a month. It prepared business for the public assembly. They were chosen by lot.
-He split Attica into three large regions (city, coast, and interior) and split each into ten trittyes; each tribe had one trittys from each region.
-At this time the nine archons was increased to ten, one elected from each tribe.
-It is possible that he instituted the practice of ostracism.
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