Sophocles the Dramatist

SOPHOCLES THE DRAMATIST E. T. OWEN S OPHOCLEAN dra1na, like Shakespeat·ean, is becon1ing more and more blurred by interpretations. Critics, in their natural desire to say something new, come to regard the object of their criticism as a field for the exercise of their own ingenuity, and flatteringly ascribe to their author the subtleties of which in the process they find themselves capable. For instance, it should be axiomatic that the profundity of a great dramatist is not achieved by the easy method of supp ~essing material facts, of setting his audience puzzles to solve with insufficient data; and yet it is often the gaps in the dramatist's argument that are seized upon as containing the fundamental meaning of a play. I think we should assume as a starting-point in all our interpretations, that, so far as the actual eve-nts of his story are concerned, the dramatist is to be taken at his plain word; also, al).d even more important, we should keep in mind that what we are con.templating is a play, not an incident of real life, in which motives may be veiled and unseen acts may be a matter of ·doubt and surmise. In a play unknown events> unknown motives do not occur (except in so far as the audience's knowledge may represent the unknown); the persons exist in their words and their acts-no more; and we have no right to use the dramatic difficulties and c9mpromises, the neces- 1 sai-y short-cuts and stretches of probability, for the purpose either of complicating the psychology or otherwise deepening the meaning of a play. What we are not told is done, is not done; beyond our ken there is no action, nothing happens; a dramatis persona does no more than is set down for him. In brief, it is a first 228 SOPHOCLES THE DRAMATIST principle that you cannot judge or interpret a play by what is not there. A dramatist's first purpose is to make what happens plain; he is not trying to hide his meantng. Consider the case of the double burial in the Antigone. These are the facts as given: In the Prologue Antigone· announces her resolve to perform the burial rites on her dead brother, the traitor Polynices, although she knows it is forbidden by Creon, the King of Thebes. Here; and here alone, she can do so without taking the Chorus into her confidence, and, as ·the poet obviously .wishes to give the impression at this stage that she stands absolutely alone in her defiance of Creon, he takes . advantage of the opportunity offered by the Prologue to emphasize her isolation; he shows her appealing in vain to her sister, the one person who, she thought, might feel as she did in the matter. At any rate, it is understood at the end of the Prologue that Antigone has gone forth to put her words into instant act. It is this knowledge that gives dramatic value to Creon's proclamation, which immediately follows the entrance song of the Chorus. So placed, it is not just a starting-point of action, but communicates a dramatic thrill because we know that even as he speaks his orders are being disobeyed . (It is in this sort of thing that Sophocles shows his skill, not by creating confusing ambiguities.) Instead of bringing in the captive Antigone now (which is all that the story in itself requires), he delays the discovery; one of the men set to guard the corpse enters with the news that the body has been found, already sprinkled with dust and so technically buried; and it is not till the next episode or scene that An.tigone is brought before Creon as the culprit, caught this time pouring libations upon the body. This second visit of Antigone's to the 229 THE UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO QUARTERLY corpse has, since Jebb first called attention to its lack of clear motivation, become a sort of stock problem for which every writer on the Antigone feels hitnself bound to offer a solution, preferably a new one.1 Now a dramatist 's main consideration a-lways and everywhere...