ANTIGONE

SOPHOCLES

BACKGROUND
The specific circumstances surrounding the origin of Greek drama were a
puzzle even in the 4th century BC. Greek drama seems to have its roots in
religious celebrations that incorporated song and dance. By the 6th century BC,
Athenians had transformed a rural celebration of Dionysus into an urban
festival with dancing choruses that competed for prizes. An anonymous poet
came up with the idea of having the chorus interact with a masked actor. Later,
Aeschylus transformed the art by using two masked actors, each playing
different parts throughout the piece, essentially inventing Greek drama as we
know it. With two actors and a chorus, complex plots and conflicts could be
staged as never before, and the poets who competed in the festival were no
longer writing elaborate hymns, but true plays. Athens was the only Greek city-
state where this art form evolved; the comedies, tragedies, and dramas
handed down to us from the period, although labelled generically as "Greek,"
are in fact all Athenian works.
After the defeat of the Persians in a decisive campaign (480-479 BC), Athens
emerged as the superpower of the independent Greek city-states, and during
this time the drama festival, or the Dionysia, became a spectacular event. The
Dionysia lasted four to five days, and the city took the celebrations seriously.
Prisoners were released on bail, and most public business was suspended.
Roughly 10,000 free male citizens, along with their slaves and dependents,
watched plays in an enormous outdoor theatre that could seat 17,000
spectators. On each of three days, the Athenians were treated to three
tragedies and a satyr play (a light comedy on a mythic theme) written by one of
three pre-selected tragedians, as well as one comedy by a comedic playwright.
The trilogies did not have to be extended dramas dealing with the same story,
although often they were. At the end of the festival, the tragedians were
awarded first, second, and third prize by the judges of Dionysus.
Although Antigone is grouped together with Oedipus the King and Oedipus at
Colonus as a trilogy (sometimes called The Theban Plays or The Oedipus
Trilogy), the three works were actually not written as a trilogy at all. It would
therefore be totally erroneous to say that Antigone presents some kind of
"final word" on the themes of the trilogy. In fact, although Antigone deals with
the events that happen chronologically last in the myth, the play was produced
in 441 BC - some 14 or 15 years before Oedipus the King, and a full 36 years
before Oedipus at Colonus. Sophocles was clearly fascinated by the Oedipus
myth, but inconsistencies in the events of the three plays seem to indicate that
he wrote each play as a separate treatment of the story.
For modern readers, the Chorus may be the most alien element of the play.
Greek drama was not meant to be what we would consider "naturalistic." It
was a highly stylized art form: actors wore masks, and the performances
incorporated song and dance. The Chorus delivers much of the exposition and
expounds poetically on themes, but it is still meant to represent a group of
characters. In the case of Antigone, the Chorus is constituted by the Theban
elders, old and powerful citizens of the city who watch and comment on the
action. It interacts with the actors, and in Antigone the Chorus intercedes at a
crucial point near the end of the play.
Consistent with the norms of Greek drama, Antigone is not divided into acts or
scenes. The action flows uninterrupted from beginning to end. However, time
elapses in non-naturalistic fashion: at certain points, from reports of what has
happened offstage, it is clear that a great amount of time is meant to have
passed even though only a few minutes have passed for the audience. In
general, as noted by Aristotle, the action of most Greek tragedies is confined to
a 24-hour period.
In his influential Poetics, Aristotle sets guidelines for the form of tragedy
using Oedipus the King as his ideal model. Tragedy is usually concerned with a
person of great stature, a king or nobleman, who falls because of hubris, or
pride. There are unities of time, place, and, most importantly, action. Action
may be thought of simply as motive or "movement of spirit": in Oedipus the
King the action for most of the play is "find Laius' killer and stop the plague in
Thebes." The action in Antigone is "preserve rightness and order in
Thebes." Antigone is a strange case because the "movement-of-spirit" arguably
comes from two directions: Antigone and Creon are both championing what is
right, but they define rightness through different sets of values. Key elements
include the moments of reversal and recognition, although not every tragedy
has these moments. Reversal means a great and unexpected turn in events
when the action veers around and becomes its opposite. Antigone experiences
no reversal, but Creon does: at the Chorus' prodding, he finally backs down
and listens to the advice he has been given, turning against the preservation of
the kind of order he cherishes. Recognition means that a character gains
sudden and transformative understanding of himself and the events he has
experienced, moving from ignorance to knowledge. In Antigone, Creon finally
recognizes that he has been misguided and that his actions have led to the
death of his wife and son. Ideally, according to Aristotle, the reversal and the
recognition hit at the same instant, as they do in Oedipus the King. While
the Poetics are indispensable for the student of Greek drama - and, indeed,
drama in general - Aristotle's theories should not be a straitjacket. Aristotle's
guidelines make it difficult to appreciate the genius of Euripides, and by the
standards of the Poetics, the great tragedies of Shakespeare would be failures.
Aristotle is writing from a particular time and place, and he is also speaking
from a very specific artistic sensibility. He may be the first word on Greek
tragedy, but he is not the last.
CHARACTERS
Antigone
Antigone is both the daughter and the sister of Oedipus (since he married his
own mother). Now that Oedipus and his brothers are dead, Antigone and
Ismene are the last of the Labdacus family. After her father went into exile,
Antigone and her sister were raised in the house of Creon. Her brothers
Polyneices and Eteocles were casualties in a brutal war for power, each
brother dying by the other's hand. Creon has declared that Eteocles will be
honoured with burial since he was a defender of Thebes, while Polyneices'
body is left to the vultures and dogs. It is this edict that drives Antigone to defy
the state, since she believes her brother Polyneices deserves the same
treatment as Eteocles. Some critics see Antigone as too self-righteous, even
alienating, but others claim her as a seminal feminist, determined to do what is
right even in defiance of patriarchal law. Indeed, Antigone captured the public
imagination immediately after the first performance of the play more than
2,500 years ago, as her deeds expanded the possibilities of human action,
reconceived the role of women in society, and delineated a new type of
character, one who sets her individual conscience and belief in divine principle
above and against the power and authority of the state.
Ismene
Antigone's last surviving sibling, Ismene is the foil for her stronger sister. In
comparison to Antigone she has almost no agency, primarily because she is
utterly terrified of disobeying men in power. She does not believe that women
should ever violate the laws of men, since they are stronger and deserve
subservience. Ismene does not help to bury Polyneices, but tries to claim
responsibility for the burial later so that she can die with Antigone. Antigone
refuses her help and Ismene is spared. This reflects both her great love for her
family and her place as a symbol of the status quo who is rewarded for
remembering her place.
Chorus of Theban Elders
The Chorus comments on the action and interacts with Creon, actively
interceding with advice at a critical moment late in the play. The Chorus is
comprised of the Theban elders, vital for maintaining order in the city, and
Creon summons them to win their loyalty. They watch the unfolding events
with sympathy and a discerning eye: they pity Creon and Antigone, but also
comment critically on their faults.
Creon
The ruler of Thebes in the wake of war, Creon cherishes order and loyalty
above all else. He cannot bear to be defied any more than he can bear to
watch the laws of the state defied. He has Polyneices' body defiled while
Eteocles is honored because he feels that he cannot give equal to share to
both brothers when one was a traitor and the other was loyal. He does not
recognize that other forms of justice exist, and in his pride he condemns
Antigone, defies the gods, and brings ruin on himself.
Sentry/Watchman
The Sentry brings the news that Polyneices has been buried, and later captures
Antigone. His speech is an interesting experiment in the history of Greek
drama, as it attempts to approximate the rhythms and diction of natural
speech. Similarly, his psychology reflects that of the simplest logic and reason -
his only concern is preserving his life, and he asks basic questions, contrasting
with Creon, Haemon, Ismene, and Antigone's lofty speeches on principles and
ethics.
Haemon
Haemon is the son of Creon and Eurydice and is engaged to be married to
Antigone. In a dramatic dialogue with his father, Haemon defends the moral
basis of Antigone's actions while warning his father that the people of Thebes
sympathize with her determination to bury Polyneices. He and his father part
in anger, as he simply asks his father to do what's right for Thebes, and his
father stubbornly follows the path of least resistance. Haemon's devotion to
Antigone is clear; at her death, he is so distraught that he tries to kill his father
and then kills himself.
Teiresias
Teiresias, or Tiresias, is a blind prophet who warns Creon that the gods do not
approve of his treatment of Polyneices' body or the punishment of Antigone.
Creon insults Teiresias, believing that he's simply blackmailing him for money,
but the prophet responds with a prophecy foretelling the death of one of
Creon's children and a warning that all of Greece will despise the king if he
does not relent. Creon realizes that Teiresias has never been wrong and that
he must do his bidding. The prophet is an important part of Sophocles' vision:
through Teiresias, the will of the gods is made known, and his very existence
implies that there is a definite will of the gods that is far above the domain of
man's law.
A Messenger
The Messenger reports the suicides of Antigone and Haemon to the Chorus
and Eurydice. He leaves to follow Eurydice when she runs off in grief.
Eurydice
Eurydice is Creon's wife and Haemon's mother. Broken by her son's suicide,
she kills herself, calling curses down on Creon for having caused the tragedy.
Second Messenger
The Second Messenger reports Eurydice's suicide to the Chorus and Creon.
Creon, already broken by Haemon's death, is forced to confront the suicide of
his wife as well.

ANTIGONE’S FAMILY TREE

Oedipus is a descendent of the Labdacus family, which is plagued with a
terrible curse. Oedipus kills his father Laius inadvertently, not realizing who he
is, and then proceeds to marry his mother, Jocasta, also not realizing her true
identity. (For more on how this came to pass, see the summary of the first
section of Antigone). As a result of Oedipus' marriage to Jocasta, he sires four
children, who are at once his siblings and his children: Eteocles,
Polyneices, Ismene, and Antigone.
Oedipus, shamed by his marriage and murder, surrenders the kingdom to his
brother Creon (since Creon is Jocasta's brother, he is also Oedipus' brother).
Creon takes over the kingdom because it is feared that Eteocles and Polyneices
are also cursed by the Labdacus plague and will continue bringing misery to
Thebes. Eventually, however, Polyneices makes a claim on the Theban crown,
causing him to be banished. At this point, Polyneices raises an army, returns to
claim Thebes, and ends up dying at the hands of Eteocles, who dies in the fray
as well. Creon remains in control of Thebes.
Of this line, only Ismene and Antigone remain living at the start of the play.
Antigone is supposed to marry her cousin Haemon, but by the end of the play,
in a revelation that demonstrates just how widespread the Labdacus curse is -
Haemon dies, Eurydice dies, and Antigone dies, leaving only Ismene and Creon
as the de facto descendants of Labdacus.

SUMMARY
Polyneices and Eteocles, two brothers leading opposite sides in Thebes' civil
war, have both been killed in battle. Creon, the new ruler of Thebes, has
declared that Eteocles will be honoured and Polyneices disgraced. The rebel
brother's body will not be sanctified by holy rites and will lay unburied to
become the food of carrion animals. Antigone and Ismene are the sisters of the
dead brothers, and they are now the last children of the ill-fated Oedipus. In
the opening of the play, Antigone brings Ismene outside the city gates late at
night for a secret meeting: Antigone wants to bury Polyneices' body, in
defiance of Creon's edict. Ismene refuses to help her, fearing the death
penalty, but she is unable to dissuade Antigone from going to do the deed by
herself.
Creon enters, along with the Chorus of Theban Elders. He seeks their support
in the days to come, and in particular wants them to back his edict regarding
the disposal of Polyneices' body. The Chorus of Elders pledges their support. A
Sentry enters, fearfully reporting that the body has been buried. A furious
Creon orders the Sentry to find the culprit or face death himself. The Sentry
leaves, but after a short absence he returns, bringing Antigone with him. Creon
questions her, and she does not deny what she has done. She argues
unflinchingly with Creon about the morality of the edict and the morality of her
actions. Creon grows angrier, and, thinking Ismene must have helped her,
summons the girl. Ismene tries to confess falsely to the crime, wishing to die
alongside her sister, but Antigone will have none of it. Creon orders that the
two women be temporarily locked up.
Haemon, Creon's son and Antigone's fiancé, enters to pledge allegiance to his
father. He initially seems willing to obey Creon, but when Haemon gently tries
to persuade his father to spare Antigone, the discussion deteriorates, and the
two men are soon bitterly insulting each other. Haemon leaves, vowing never
to see Creon again.
Creon decides to spare Ismene and to imprison Antigone in a cave. She is
brought out of the house, and she bewails her fate and defends her actions
one last time. She is taken away, with the Chorus expressing great sorrow for
what is going to happen to her.
Teiresias, the blind prophet, enters. He warns Creon that the gods side with
Antigone. Creon accuses Teiresias of being corrupt, and Teiresias responds that
because of Creon's mistakes, he will lose one child for the crimes of leaving
Polyneices unburied and putting Antigone into the earth. All of Greece will
despise him, and the sacrificial offerings of Thebes will not be accepted by the
gods. The Chorus, terrified, asks Creon to take their advice. He assents, and
they tell him that he should bury Polyneices and free Antigone. Creon, shaken,
agrees to do it. He leaves with a retinue of men to help him right his previous
mistakes. The Chorus delivers a choral ode on/to the god Dionysus, and then a
Messenger enters to tell them that Haemon has killed himself. Eurydice,
Creon's wife and Haemon's mother, enters and asks the Messenger to tell her
everything. The Messenger reports that Haemon and Antigone have both
taken their own lives. Eurydice disappears into the palace.
Creon enters, carrying Haemon's body. He understands that his own actions
have caused these events. A Second Messenger arrives to tell Creon and the
Chorus that Eurydice has killed herself. With her last breath, she cursed her
husband. Creon blames himself for everything that has happened, and, a
broken man, he asks his servants to help him inside. The order he valued so
much has been protected, and he is still the king, but he has acted against the
gods and lost his child and his wife as a result. The Chorus closes by saying that
although the gods punish the proud, punishment brings wisdom.

THEMES
Pride
There is no question that pride, in the context of Antigone (and most
of Sophocles' works), is a trait despised by the gods and punished without
mercy. In Antigone, Sophocles describes the type of pride that allows men to
create laws that substitute for divine principles. In other words,
when Creon creates a law because he believes it is divine will, that is the
ultimate display of punishable pride, for no man can ever create a law that is
equal to or above divine right. As a result, when Tiresias comes with the news
that Creon will suffer, Creon realizes that he has made a terrible mistake, and
yet still refuses to admit it, bending to the prophet's message only because he
wants to preserve his life, not because he knows he's gone too far. As a result,
he must suffer the loss of his family.
Individual versus State; Conscience versus Law; Moral or Divine Law versus
Human Law
These three conflicts are very closely related, but this crude set of pairings
helps to untangle some of the central issues of the play. Antigone and her
values line up with the first entity in each pair, while Creon and his values line
up with the second. Antigone continues to be a subversive and powerful play,
and the inspiration for generations of rebels and dissidents. In the 20th
century, a version of Antigone rewritten during the Second World War became
one of the most powerful texts of resistance against the Nazis. The conflict
between the individual and the power of the state was as pressing for Greek
audiences as it is to modern ones. Antigone is a threat to the status quo; she
invokes divine law as defence of her actions, but implicit in her position is faith
in the discerning power of her individual conscience. She sacrifices her life out
of devotion to principles higher than human law. Creon makes a mistake in
sentencing her-and his mistake is condemned, in turn, by the gods-but his
position is an understandable one. In the wake of war, and with his reign so
new, Creon has to establish his authority as supreme. On the other hand,
Creon's need to defeat Antigone seems at times to be extremely personal. At
stake is not only the order of the state, but his pride and sense of himself as a
king and, more fundamentally, a man.
Gender: The Position of Women
Antigone's gender has profound effects on the meaning of her actions. Creon
himself says that the need to defeat her is all the more pressing because she is
a woman. The freedom of Greek women was extremely limited; the rules and
strictures placed on them were great even for the ancient world. Antigone's
rebellion is especially threatening because it upsets gender roles and
hierarchy. By refusing to be passive, she overturns one of the fundamental
rules of her culture. Ismene is Antigone's foil because she is completely cowed
by the rule of men and believes that women should be subservient to them or
risk incurring their wrath. Men are stronger, she says, and therefore must be
obeyed. Ultimately, however, we see that she has merely bought into the
problematic concepts that Creon espouses, for even when Creon realizes he
may be wrong, he switches his defence, arguing that even if he were incorrect,
he couldn't admit defeat to a woman, for that would upset divine law even
more than backtracking on his principles. It is this fundamental untruth that
Sophocles' play seeks to correct, mainly through the punishment that the Gods
inflict on Creon as a result of his obtuse, misogynistic thinking.
Inaction/Lack of Agency versus Agency
When faced with injustice, Antigone and Ismene react quite differently - the
former aggressively, progressively, and the latter more conservatively. Ismene
is not so much afraid of injustice as she is frightened of her own demise - and
she cannot bear to incur the wrath of men for fear of being condemned to the
same fate as the rest of her family. After watching her father and brothers die,
she believes that the best course of action is to lie low and obey. In the case of
Ismene, it seems inaction is tied to fear-at least until she willingly offers to die
next to Antigone, at which point we realize that she is not so much inactive as
she is unsure of her place as a woman. Thus, while Ismene is a figure
characterized principally by doubt, Antigone is one who plunges ahead purely
on self-belief and her firm convictions about right and wrong. Ultimately, then,
because of these fundamental differences in philosophy, they cannot die
together, though Ismene wants to. Antigone forbids it - she cannot bear to
have her sister tag along when Ismene all along is in the camp of the
patriarchs, despite her eleventh-hour shift.
The Threat of Tyranny
Athenians, and particularly Thebans, were sensitive to the idea of tyranny and
the fine line between a strong leader and a brutal tyrant. Creon is in many
ways a sympathetic character, but he abuses his power subtly - mainly by
decreeing man's law as a consequence of divine will. His faults do not
necessarily stem from a lust for power, for he often has noble intentions. He is
completely loyal to the state but is subject to human weakness and poor
judgment. Indeed, at the beginning of the play he frequently comments on his
desire to do what's best for Thebes and gains the confidence of
both Haemon and the Chorus of Elders, who say that they will follow him if
that is his goal. And though he continues to reprise this theme, Creon is clearly
more concerned with preserving certain values of law rather than the good of
the city. When faced with a choice that would preserve 'tradition' or his own
interpretation of the rule of law vs. a more progressive approach that does not
follow precedent but clearly benefits Thebans, he chooses the former.

LINE SUMMARY
Lines 001-241
Greek audiences may not have been familiar with the particulars of Antigone's
story, but they would have recognized the setting of the play and the initial
context of its plot - namely, the city of Thebes and the seeming curse that
afflicts all members of the royal family. Before we begin to explore the details
of this particular story, let's review everything that's happened before the
beginning of the action.
Antigone is the daughter of Oedipus, Greek drama's most infamous figure.
Oedipus was a king who married his own mother after killing his own father -
not knowing that either were his parents. The story of Oedipus The
King, Sophocles' most renowned work, is useful for giving us insight into
Antigone's doomed lineage and should be understood prior to
reading Antigone.
Oedipus is born of Laius and Jocasta, rulers of Thebes. Warned in a prophecy
that Oedipus will grow up to murder his father and marry his mother, Laius and
Jocasta arrange for his death - instructing a herdsman to kill the child. But the
herdsman pities little Oedipus, and instead of killing him, passes him on to
another herdsman from a neighbouring kingdom, where Oedipus is raised by
the king and queen as their own.
Later in his life, Oedipus himself hears the prophecy that he will kill his father
and marry his mother. He flees the new kingdom, thinking he can avoid his
fate. Along the way, however, he kills a stranger, who turns out to be his father
Laius, and also solves the riddle of the Sphinx, saving Thebes and becoming her
king (as well as Jocasta's new husband). The terms of the prophecy are thus
fulfilled. Oedipus learns this only after he has been in power in Thebes for
some time. A plague begins to kill the Theban citizens, and an oracle informs
the king that Thebes is being punished because Laius' murderer dwells among
them. Oedipus sets out to learn the culprit's identity, and soon discovers that
Laius was the stranger he killed, and worse, that Jocasta and Laius were his
true parents. Jocasta is able to put the pieces of the puzzle together some time
before her husband-son, and in despair she hangs herself. Oedipus, upon
discovering her body, blinds himself with her broaches and leaves the city,
entrusting his daughters, Antigone and Ismene, to the care of Creon (Jocasta's
brother).
In the days preceding the start of the action of Antigone, Thebes has been torn
apart by war. When Oedipus fell from grace, his sons Polyneices and Eteocles
were too young to ascend to rule, and so the kingdom was entrusted to Creon,
the brother of Jocasta. The brothers soon reach the suitable age to take over,
but they continue to entrust rule to Creon, knowing that a curse seems to
follow their family. But soon enough, they begin fighting over who will rule
Thebes - Polyneices, as the older brother, believes he has the birth right, but
Eteocles ousts him, which sends Polyneices looking for refuge in Argos. There
he raises a powerful army, which he uses to invade Thebes -- leading to his
own death and that of Eteocles. Creon ascends to the throne once more. It is
at this point that the play begins.
Antigone and Ismene meet at night in front of the city gates. Antigone has
called her sister out for a secret meeting: she bewails their fate as daughters of
a doomed mother and father and sisters of two men who have slain each
other. She then informs Ismene that Creon has declared that Eteocles shall be
given a full and honourable funeral, while the body of Polyneices will be left to
the vultures. Anyone who tries to perform the proper funeral rites for
Polyneices will be killed by public stoning.
Antigone asks Ismene to help her bury Polyneices, even though to do so would
ensure both their deaths. Creon has "no right to keep me from my own" (I. 47).
Ismene refuses because she says that they are women and must not fight with
men - men are stronger and therefore must be obeyed. It is not her
responsibility as a woman to "aim too high, too far" (I. 67). Antigone is furious
with her sister and says she would no longer welcome her help even if Ismene
granted it. She also says that she will die willingly for her brother and ensure
he is given a proper burial.
Ismene cannot dissuade Antigone, and she leaves to perform the burial.
Antigone encourages Ismene to proclaim her flouting of Creon's action to the
world - she is not afraid of death and believes she will die with nobility. Ismene
is afraid for her sister, and cannot condone her actions...but she also
understands that there is something to what Antigone wants to do: "Know
this; that though you are wrong to go, your friends / are right to love you" (ll.
116-7).
The Chorus of Theban Elders celebrates the Theban victory over Polyneices,
praising Zeus for destroying the arrogant Polyneices and ensuring that the
"savage pair" dies so that the "sacred precincts" of Thebes can be free. Creon
enters and addresses the Chorus, announcing that the city is safe once again.
He tells the elders that they were loyal to Laius, loyal to Oedipus, and loyal to
Oedipus' sons, and that he can only hope they will be loyal to him as well.
Creon says that a ruler must not be afraid to say what's right - no matter how
unpopular his views may make him. He says he will never call a man a friend
who is hostile to Thebes, and that the city is their lifeboat. Thebes has no
friends, but he will make sure that the city is raised high. He further explains
his edict that Polyneices is not to be buried or mourned, and rather left for the
birds and dogs as a spectacle of shame. Creon orders the Chorus not to side
with anyone who disobeys him. The Chorus believes that no one is foolish
enough to ask for death, but Creon says that hope - and bribery - have often
led men to destruction.
ANALYSIS
In her very first speech, Antigone only briefly alludes to her and her sister's
circumstances, but a Greek audience would have quickly filled in the gaps
created by this 'in media res' device (meaning that Sophocles begins the story
'in the middle of things'). Antigone believes that they are the final victims of
the curse that follows all the members of Oedipus' family. Oedipus, Jocasta,
Laius, Polyneices and Eteocles have all paid their price - and now they suffer
with shame and dishonour. Sophocles, then, sets up Antigone as an 'Oedipal'
hero - meaning that she is structurally the protagonist, but cursed with a tragic
fate. The question, of course, is whether we as readers can determine her
tragic flaw - that element of her character that will send her to her doom - and
whether we can successfully identify her antagonist.
Antigone is different from other Greek dramas in that it more a play of
competing philosophies than a drama of 'action' or plot. Indeed, Antigone isn't
allowed to just plunge headlong into her decision to bury Polyneices - instead,
she must repeatedly explain herself in the face of philosophical objection. First
in line is her sister Ismene, who argues that their family has suffered enough -
their father died in hatred and disgrace after gouging out his eyes, their
mother hanged herself, and their brothers killed each other - but now they're
alone and must submit to the law. In Ismene's eyes, they are now women
alone - and women must not fight with men, because men are stronger and
control the law. Because Antigone refuses to kowtow to Ismene's reasoning,
she has often been held up as literature's first feminist.
At the same time, there is the question of nature. Ismene, when pressed,
argues that it is not in her nature to act - that she cannot possibly take up arms
against the city. Antigone sees this as an excuse, but the converse can be
argued - that it is in her nature to disobey, to bury her brother without
confronting Creon first. Ultimately the sisters' argument comes down to a
fundamental difference between the two: Ismene believes that her duty is to
the men who make the law, while Antigone believes that "those who matter
most" are the Gods, and that Zeus would want her to bury her brother.
The Chorus in Greek drama can serve a number of purposes, but here it is
referenced specifically as the 'council of elders in Thebes,' meaning that it is a
politically-minded group. They have lived through all the cursed relatives of
Oedipus, and thus when battle against Polyneices ends, they see a time of
rejoicing and the end of pain. The Chorus is not only civil, but also serves as the
conscience of reason here. Indeed, when Creon appears, his first words praise
them for having shown respect to all the members of Oedipus' family and to
express his hope that they will accede to his rule (I. 165-170). In turn, he
announces his latest edict, and the Chorus responds simply that they will do
what he thinks is right.
As the play continues, however, we will note a growing involvement on the
part of the Chorus as they begin to see that Creon is leading their city astray.
For now, they are content to stay uninvolved because they believe that no one
is foolish enough to risk death by burying Polyneices, suggesting that they
assume the entire city is as tired of death, destruction, and misery as they are.
It is too early to suggest that Creon is Antigone's direct opponent, but
Sophocles has already hinted at Creon's tragic flaw. He believes in revenge -
the idea that Polyneices must be 'shamed' in death in order to right his wrong -
an act that seems directly antithetical to the Chorus' wish to relegate the pain
to the past (I. 206). Creon is thus perpetuating the legacy of Oedipus' curse,
and we begin to see that as long as Polyneices remains unburied, the plague on
Thebes will continue.

Lines 242-525
The watchman arrives, clearly nervous about being the bearer of bad news
to Creon. Indeed, he says that he almost didn't come for fear that Creon would
project his anger about the news onto him - but then realized that if Creon
heard the news from another man, he might be even more angry. Creon tells
the watchman to spit it out, and the watchman says that Polyneices' body has
been properly buried. The guards discovered the body - buried completely,
with attention to ceremony, leaving no marks behind. There was no sign of
wild animals, he says, and no dogs sniffing or tugging at the corpse. The guards
began to blame each other before realizing that the only way to find the culprit
would be to inform Creon. They held a lottery as to who would be the
messenger of bad news, and the watchman lost.
The Chorus of Elders wonders aloud whether the gods are behind the burial.
Creon is outraged, suggesting that the Elders are as stupid as they are old. He
says that the gods would never have a caring thought for Polyneices - they
know he is a traitor, and criminals are never honoured by the gods. Creon says
that money must be involved as a motivation for the burial and tells the
watchman that unless he and his fellow sentries find the person who buried
Polyneices, he will hang them all. The watchman insists that it is unjust to hold
him responsible for the burial and soon leaves, declaring that he will flee,
never to return.
The Chorus extols the nature of humans - their ability to master all beasts, to
conquer land, sea, and air, to take advantage of language and mind, and to live
in cities under law. The Chorus believes that man has the means to handle
every need and never take steps towards the future without having the means
to do so. The only thing man cannot master is Death.
The watchman enters, leading Antigone. The Chorus is aghast at the possibility
that Antigone completed the burial of Polyneices, but the sentry confirms it.
Creon returns, and the watchman informs him of Antigone's guilt. Creon
demands details, and the watchman says that the guards uncovered the
previously buried body and left it in the sun. Soon enough, they caught
Antigone by her brother's side, renewing the burial. The guards caught her,
and she didn't even put up a fight.
Creon asks Antigone if she did the deed, and Antigone says she will never deny
her guilt. Creon dismisses the watchman and then asks Antigone, in a move
that would likely spare her life, if she even knew that burying the body was
forbidden. Antigone says that she did know, but she didn't believe it was a
viable law. She says that she answers to Zeus, not to Creon. She further states
that the gods didn't lay down these laws for human use and manipulation, and
that she will endure the god's judgment of the burial, not Creon's, no matter
now dire his punishment may be. Antigone adds that people who live in misery
like her are better off dead.
The Chorus declares that Antigone is as unhinged as her father, but Creon says
she is merely stubborn, arrogant, and boastful. If he does not punish her, then
he is not a man - and indeed, Antigone would come across as the more
"manly." He says that he doesn't care if Antigone is his sister's child - she
and Ismene must pay for the burial. The Chorus is surprised that Creon would
indict Ismene, but Creon says that they are both guilty, as they connived
together over the act.
ANALYSIS
The watchman is reminiscent of Polonius from Hamlet - namely, a character of
slight absurdity who is there to provide comic relief amidst a dramatic expanse
of tragedy. For all the philosophizing and melodrama associated with justice
and idealism, here we have a sentry who is concerned with nothing else but
preserving his life - even going so far as to continually interrupt Creon to
ensure that he is going to escape unscathed and that things "won't be any
worse than they have to be" (236). Though at times the watchman comes
across as a bit buffoonish, he does serve a very clear purpose - to remind us
that the danger facing Antigone is real, and that this is not a matter of simple
bargaining over principles, but rather a dire battle over a person's right to live
and die in accordance with divine or mundane law.
A number of scholars argue that Creon's tragic flaw is his obstinacy - his
unwillingness to change his point of view once he sets upon it, but in this
section we begin to see that his flaw runs deeper. He is afflicted with a sense of
self-righteousness and the idea that man is meant to interpret the gods' will
through law. In other words, he believes that human-imposed law is divine,
and that a citizen who serves him is, in turn, serving the gods themselves.
Upon hearing of the burial, the Chorus suggests that "the gods are behind this
piece of work" (279), but Creon lashes out, demanding to know whether a
criminal has ever been "honoured by the gods" (287). There is, of course,
circular logic in this argument, for who determines who is criminal? As the
ruler of the kingdom, of course, Creon is the arbiter of who is criminal and who
is not - and therefore reserves divine right for himself.
Creon reserves his deepest disdain for money, which he believes is the
"nastiest weed to sprout in human soil." It seems a bit off-topic to go after
money, even though he believes deeply that it is the source of bribery and
therefore at the heart of the mystery of the burial, but Creon's diatribe about
money gives us deeper insight into his tragic flaw. Indeed, money is
ungovernable, for it falls outside the province of human law. In other words,
Creon has full power over the lives of the citizens in his kingdom - the power to
determine who is happy and who is not - but his power does not extend to the
institution of money, which is beyond his control. Money allows for free will -
and free will in turn, says Creon, ravages a city.
The Chorus' extolling of the human race is an extraordinary and quite famous
passage in Greek drama. It is written as a Stasimon, and is known as the "Ode
to Man." It is a fascinating piece of choral poetry that warrants analysis on its
own terms - particularly its brand of implied philosophy about the evolution of
man. Here Sophocles endorses a theory that says that man found his own
means of survival apart from the gods - finding ways to tackle all sorts of
beasts, weather, and terrain. This was a popular humanist theory of the time
supported by several philosophers, but we're not quite sure of the Chorus'
attitude towards it, because they seem possessed by both pride and fear.
While man may have "taught himself" to handle every need through
civilization, he has not conquered death - leaving him vulnerable to a mystery
beyond himself. Furthermore, by allowing that man has found the means to
survive and to transcend initial limitations, this theory also allows for man's
potential downfall, since they are living entirely as a consequence of free will.
As a result, man can "slither into wickedness" (367), or 'turn shameless'
(372)...and can ultimately go wrong.
Antigone and Creon's debate has a number of fascinating implications.
Antigone's argument is a rebuttal of the Chorus' "Ode to Man." She implies
that man has no power over the rites to life and death - that these are
functions of the gods, and that since Zeus made no announcement about the
burial of Polyneices, she is free to bury him as she likes. The gods' laws live for
all time, and no man can suddenly change them or manipulate the penalties
surrounding them. Creon, meanwhile, sees such an attitude not as relating to
the debate over the powers between man vs. god, but rather in terms of the
mundane, mortal struggle between man and woman. For as long as Antigone
claims to serve a higher power than Creon, according to Creon she "would be
the man." Creon believes that Antigone must be killed to right the balance and
ensure that no woman will ever best a man. Indeed, he believes that as long as
he stamps out this woman who serves a higher power than himself, he will
ensure that man's established laws always reign supreme. Ultimately, then, the
battle between Creon and Antigone can be distilled to Creon's tragic flaw: his
belief in the absolute supremacy of man's law. Ultimately, he will pay the price
by seeing how little control he wields over both the will of the people and the
will of the gods.

Lines 579-785
Ismene enters, and Creon accuses her of being a conspirator in Polyneices'
burial. Ismene confesses and says that she and Antigone were partners in the
crime. Antigone, however, refuses Ismene's confession and says that she will
not allow the penalty to fall on her sister. Indeed, she says she has witnesses
from the gods of who did the work, and that she will not accept a friend who is
only a friend in words. Ismene is devastated and tells Antigone not to despise
her. She says that they should die together so that they can sanctify their dead.
Ismene asks Creon whether he really would kill the bride of his son - since
Creon's son Haemon is meant to marry Antigone. Creon says that there are
other women Haemon may find, and death will put a stop to the marriage. The
guards take the two sisters inside. The Chorus mourns the tragedies of the
house of Labdacus - the house that spawned Oedipus' doomed lineage. They
say that madness stalks the family without fail, creating disaster for many
generations like a great salt wave. They see grief falling from the beginning of
the Labdacus history and that the gods continue to batter them without relief.
Even the saving light of Antigone will now go out, doomed by foolish words
and impulsive actions. They see madness as a product of mortals who are
great, and all the members of the Labdacus family are subject to this curse.
Haemon enters, and at first seems willing to submit to his father's judgment.
Creon embarks on a long diatribe, saying that a son must always be loyal to his
father, disdain any wife who is hostile or criminal, look down upon all
disobedience and treachery to law, and most of all ensure that they are not
defeated by a woman. The Chorus is dazzled by Creon's speech, and now fully
sympathize with him. Haemon, however, tells his father that the people of
Thebes sympathize with Antigone - and that even though he agrees with his
father, the will of the people should be honoured. Haemon says that even
though he would never question his father's leadership and agrees with the
philosophy of his rule, he should also be open to other points of view. The
Chorus also agrees with Haemon and declares that both men have spoken
well.
Creon is angry once again and asks the Chorus whether they should be taught
by a boy who is as young as Creon. Haemon tells his father he would never
urge him to show respect for a criminal, prompting Creon to ask whether he
thinks Antigone has committed a crime. Haemon says that he thinks not -
because the people of Thebes deny it. Creon asks whether the people should
tell him what orders to give, and Haemon says a place for one man alone is not
a city. Creon accuses Haemon of being a woman's slave, to which his son
simply replies that Antigone will not die while he is near, and that Creon will
never see his face again. He exits, and the Chorus warns of the impulsiveness
of youth.
Creon says that both girls will now be killed, but the Chorus' prudent questions
make Creon realize that Ismene should be spared. He does, however, say that
Antigone will be buried alive underground with only as much food as religious
law prescribes so that the city will not be cursed for homicide. Underground,
Antigone can pray to Hades, since he is the only god that she respects. Maybe
she'll arrange for him to save her life - and she'll learn that she's wasting her
time showing respect for whatever lies in the underworld. Creon exits.
ANALYSIS
It is interesting to note that Antigone does not defend Ismene out of love or
altruism, but rather because she pridefully claims the burial as her own work. If
Antigone has a tragic flaw, it's she - not Creon - who is too prideful, even
boastful. When Ismene says that she'll be her shipmate in suffering (540),
Antigone refuses her complicity, saying that the gods below saw who did the
work, and more damningly, that "I won't accept a friend who's only friends in
words" (543). Antigone, then, is saying that Ismene's sudden desire to claim
responsibility for the act is not courage, but rather cowardice - for she'd rather
talk than act, and would rather claim the spiritual reward than actually muddy
her hands and do the right thing. Ismene, ever the pragmatist, asks Antigone
why she's scolding her before Creon, since it "won't help her."
Creon, most tellingly, calls Antigone a "bad woman" when asked about his
breakup of the Antigone-Haemon engagement. Indeed, he believes that when
Antigone dies, there will be plenty of other women for Haemon to choose
from, giving us an even deeper hook into his misogyny. Indeed, Creon has a
precise conception of woman, and Antigone does not fit it. The impending
marriage between her and Haemon is not a detraction from Antigone's
execution, but rather an even more urgent demand for it. He cannot bear to
have his son marry a woman who thinks she can ignore a man's laws. In fact,
Creon would more likely want his son with someone like Ismene - who, we
recall, told her sister earlier in the play that women must never flout the laws
of men, and instead must obey them without the slightest ripple of rebellion.
Slowly, we begin to see that Antigone is a play about women's roles in society -
in other words, a pre-feminist drama.
Haemon enters with a very simple plea: "give me good advice and I will follow
it" (636). He is not the typical headstrong, impulsive, hot-blooded Romeo that
modern readers might expect in their romantic male lead - and indeed, though
the Chorus continually ascribes him this characterization, we're not convinced
by it. Instead, Haemon seems like the most practical character in the play - a
man of intense reason, open to all sides, but requires that his father offer wise
counsel. We sense that his tragic flaw is obeisance to his father at all costs.
Creon, meanwhile, delivers a thunderous diatribe on what makes a man, but
concludes simply that "order must be maintained" and there must be "no
surrender to a woman" (678) for no other reason than that a woman cannot be
said to best a man. He even goes so far as to imply that if a man had buried
Polyneices, clemency might be in order.
Haemon, however, is concerned that the entire city is grieving over Antigone,
and that no woman has ever had a fate that's so unjust. Haemon argues that
his father need not believe that he is surrendering to a woman by allowing
Antigone to live, or even compromising his beliefs - instead, he would simply
be ensuring true, proper rule, for it is what the people want. Creon, however,
is again fooled by his own preconceptions and ideology. It seems he has
listened to Haemon, even possibly agrees with what he says, but he cannot
bear to listen to or be taught by a boy like him. In other words, for Creon,
circumstances do not matter, and context does not matter. He sees actions as
absolutes - if a woman betrays a man's orders, she must die; if a young man
tries to preach to an elder, they must not be listened to, etc. Haemon says that
Creon should "look at what I do, not my age," but Creon again sees this as a
matter of breaking ranks. Ultimately, there is no reasoning with Creon - he
made his law, and it will be followed regardless of the costs.
Creon also possesses a mighty ego, in that he perceives everything through the
prism of his own qualifications for rule. When Haemon suggests that
Antigone's death will destroy someone else, Creon believes immediately that
it's a direct threat from his son instead of thinking through the consequences
of the girl's death. Indeed, it's obvious that Antigone's death will upset Thebes
and devastate his son, but Creon is interested in neither consequence,
concerned only with showing the people of Thebes who is in charge. Thus we
see that Creon also believes that effective leadership involves follow-through
at all costs, rather than reasoned interaction with his council, with his people,
or with purported criminals. When Haemon points this out, Creon simply says
that he's a slave - a woman's toy - prompting his son to wonder whether his
father will ever listen. Creon's response is to threaten to kill Antigone in front
of him, again confirming that for this king, it is action that makes a man, and
not the ability to determine the consequences of those actions.

Lines 786-1090
The Chorus extols the power of love, which affects all beings - including the
gods. Love has the power to make even the strongest person go mad and
pervert even the best minds - and the Chorus believes that the fight
between Creon and his son can be traced to the wickedness of love. Aphrodite,
the goddess of love, is undefeatable and makes all men toys in her hands. Love
strikes the Chorus, too: they weep at the approach of Antigone, "making her
way / to her bed."
Antigone enters, bemoaning her "last road" as she walks towards her death.
Her husband is to be Acheron, "Lord of Death" (l. 810), and she will rest with
him, deprived of marriage hymns. The Chorus tries to comfort her by telling
her that she will be honoured with hymns of praise, for she stayed true to her
own laws. Antigone denies this, comparing her fate to the goddess Niobe who
was locked away in "rocky growth" and was subdued into death. The Chorus
sees this as a wonderful comparison - proof that Antigone is now immortal, like
a goddess, but Antigone accuses them of mocking her and of trying to find a
way to justify this cruel death where she has no place with human beings,
living or dead, and no city to call home. Finally, the Chorus takes a stand and
says that Antigone is extreme and impetuous and deserves her fate because
she went too far. She crossed the purveyor of high justice, and now must
endure her father's legacy, which is eternal pain and punishment. Antigone
weeps for her doomed ancestors.
Creon enters and says that Antigone should be taken away immediately - and
left alone in her tomb. Antigone prepares herself for death, and says she is
coming home forever now, to be held with her own people, most of whom are
dead now under the curse of her family tree. She knows she has done the right
thing, but still thinks that the punishment is too cruel. She's never had a man,
never had a wedding, never shared love with a husband or raised a child. She
will go to the hollow of the dead without ever knowing why - for she did not
violate divine justice and knows that the gods will not help her in her misery.
She says that she doesn't know who to pray to, only that she does not want to
repent for her supposed sin. She hopes that those who condemned her suffer
as much as she does.
The Chorus sees her words as signs of her unchanged fiery character, while
Creon grows impatient with the guards. Antigone tells the "princes of Thebes"
to look at her, the last of her line, punished because she has given "reverence
to what claims reverence" (ll. 1000-1). She is led away as the Chorus speaks of
others who have suffered at the hands of the Fates.
The blind prophet Teiresias enters, led by a young boy. The old sage asks Creon
to heed his advice as he has in the past. The signs say that the gods do not
approve of the treatment of Polyneices' body. On the altars, there is "the
carrion meat of birds and dogs, / torn from the flesh of Oedipus' poor son" (ll.
1074-5). The gods do not take the prayers or sacrifices of the Thebans, and the
birds' cries are muffled because the birds' throats are glutted with the blood of
Polyneices. Teiresias expounds on the importance of taking counsel and says
that a man who makes a mistake and then corrects it brings no shame on
himself.
Creon accuses Teiresias of being a greedy manipulator. The ruler insinuates
that the old sage has been bribed. Teiresias says that the wise should learn to
heed advice, and he accuses princes of loving to take advantage of people.
Then Teiresias gives him a prophecy: within a few days, one of his children will
die because Creon kept one above the earth who should have been buried,
while putting below the earth one who should walk among the living. The gods,
as a result, will exchange a "life for a life." According to Teiresias, Creon has
violated the proper treatment of both the living and the dead. All the cities will
despise Creon, because the carrion animals will run amok, and birds shall carry
the stench of death everywhere. The prophet leaves in anger.
ANALYSIS
The Chorus functions not just as a literal set of characters - namely the tribe of
elders - but also in a number of other capacities. First, they separate the key
segments of action so that characters are given time to accomplish whatever
they set out to do, and so that the audience can digest the heated emotions of
the previous scene. Often, in thunderous dramas such as this, comic relief
scenes and jester-like characters might serve the same purpose, but here the
Chorus also offers tribute to the divine at every opportunity - to Zeus, to Love,
to Bacchus, etc.
Of all the choral poems, the ode to Bacchus is perhaps the most unexpected,
because love seems the one element most absent from Antigone. Indeed, for
all his professed love of Antigone, Haemon seems genuinely unaffected by
passion - making the Chorus' claim that the fight between Creon and Haemon
is rooted in love rather unconvincing. Even more so, at the end of the play
we're not sure whether it's love that causes Haemon's tragic end or loathing
for his father. It is fully appropriate, then, to wonder whether the Love the
chorus is referencing is between Haemon and Antigone, or Haemon and Creon
- for Haemon worships his father and only wants Creon to give him good
advice for him to follow. Upon learning that his father is not only fallible, but
mortally foolish, Haemon loses the one thing he held above all: his love for
Creon.
Antigone is not an unfeeling heroine. Indeed, once she has been condemned to
death, she doesn't doubt her decision, but rather continues to challenge the
process of life that would allow foolish mortals to reign over divine law. These
last speeches by Antigone are powerful and affecting because they seem to
take her out of the bounds of the story - as if to literally ask, "why must I die
when I've done nothing wrong?" For all her feminist claims, Antigone has no
desire to be a martyr. We sense her desire to marry, to have a wedding, to
have sex, to have a child - but now she has no one to pray to, because she has
learned that the gods won't interfere on her behalf.
Her last speech is worthy of closer examination:
City of my fathers, Thebes!
Gods of my people!
They take me against my will.
Look, O you lords of Thebes:
I am the last remnant of kings.
Look what these wretched men do,
For my pure reverence!
Antigone brings together all the horrors, dreams, and fears that have plagued
her and will stay with her in her underground tomb. She appeals to the gods,
imploring them to save her from men - for she is the last remnant of the true
Thebes, the one that belonged to her father, and the one that belonged to the
legacy touched by a divine plague. But now, for the sake of 'reverence,' or
show to the gods, Antigone will die - and she asks that the gods intervene to
show Creon that he is not acting in true reverence of the gods, but against
them.
As in Oedipus, it is up to a blind prophet to make our king see straight, and
Creon is aghast at Teiresias' terrible prophecies. Remember, Creon does not
listen to Antigone because she is a woman, and will not listen to Haemon
because he is young - and at first he won't listen to Teiresias because he thinks
the soothsayer is only after money. Now we understand why Creon delivered
the seemingly irrelevant diatribe on money earlier - because it gives him a
convenient excuse not to listen to anyone who disagrees with him and isn't
easily dismissed. Ultimately, however, he must listen to Teiresias because the
prophet is never wrong. In other words, Creon cannot argue with empirical
evidence; he cannot argue with what he sees. Teiresias is himself offended,
however, by Creon's initial dismissal of him and leaves with a precise
understanding of Creon's tragic flaw - his projection of anger onto those
weaker than him, his impulsivity, and his ego.

Lines 1091-1350
The Chorus is terrified by Teiresias' prophecies, for they claim he has never
been wrong before. Creon is shaken too, for the first time - and says he knows
giving in would be terrible but standing firm in the wake of such
prognostication would invite disaster. He asks the Chorus for advice, and they
tell him to let the girl go, and to build a tomb for Polyneices. They tell him that
he must do it himself, as well. Creon takes his attendants and goes to follow
their instructions. As they go, the Chorus sings the praises of Bacchus, and asks
him to look over their city of Thebes and hear their hymns of praise. They need
someone to assuage the plague over the Labdacus family and the Theban
people, and they ask Bacchus to allow the people of the city to finally enjoy
ecstasy. A Messenger arrives, revealing to the Chorus that great misfortune
has befallen Creon. Haemon is dead by his own hand. Eurydice, wife of Creon,
comes down to see the Messenger. She has heard that great horror has
befallen her house, but she wants to hear the whole story from the
Messenger.
Creon and his men gave Polyneices proper burial rites, as the Chorus had
urged. After burying the body they went to free Antigone, but before going
down into her tomb, they heard the sounds of Haemon, sobbing. Upon
opening the tomb, they found that Antigone had hanged herself. Haemon was
holding her body around the waist. Creon urged his son to come out of the
cave, but Haemon instead looked at his father with poison and hatred and
drew his sword against him. Failing to wound his father, Haemon turned the
sword on himself.
When the Messenger completes his story, the Chorus notices that Eurydice is
gone. The Messenger goes after her at the Chorus' urging to make sure nothing
untoward has happened. Creon returns carrying Haemon's body, devastated
by guilt, knowing that he has brought this plague upon his family. Immediately,
a second Messenger emerges to inform Creon that Eurydice has killed herself.
As she committed suicide, she cursed her husband. Weeping and bewailing his
fate, Creon asks the servants to lead him away. No longer stubborn or proud,
he knows that he has brought about the deaths of his wife and son. He stood
by his conception of justice, but in doing so he defied the gods' laws and lost
his son and wife. The Chorus comes forward to warn that pride brings
retribution, and to declare that the greatest form of wisdom is an abdication of
pride.
ANALYSIS
Creon's most telling line in Antigone comes after Teiresias' exit, when he
admits that it is so painful to "pull back" or give in to Antigone, since it "goes
against my heart," but he cannot fight against "necessity," and thus goes to
free her from the tomb. In other words, he still differentiates between what he
believes is right and what must be done - in this gap, then, we see his tragic
flaw. Indeed, if Creon suddenly threw himself on the mercy of the Gods, and
begged forgiveness for the errors of his ways, the ending would be in doubt -
for he would be redeemed in his judgment and the lesson would be learned.
But instead he refuses all self-examination and sees Teiresias' prophecy as
something that simply must be "dealt with," as if it has nothing to do with the
absolute truth. In fact, even when Teiresias is claiming the supremacy of divine
law, Creon is still denying its power - implying that it's not right and doesn't
deserve respect, but that still he will follow through with it because he doesn't
want to die. Clearly, he will have to suffer in order to fully admit that he is
incapable of seeing or setting the parameters for true law.
Haemon's death, according to the Messenger, occurred in a flash of rage - one
that nearly consumed Creon as well. When Creon and his men opened
Antigone's tomb, they found Haemon clutching the dead girl's waist. Haemon's
first instinct was to stab his father - an expression of primal rage over both the
murder of his lover and his father's fall from the pedestal upon which Haemon
had placed him. Remember that upon Haemon's entrance all he asked was
that his father guide him in the right direction, but now he sees that he's been
led astray - and his first instinct is to destroy that which he once loved. But
missing his father with his sword is symbolic of the larger problem - that Creon
still has learned nothing, and that wounding him or killing him would simply
give him more ammunition to support his disdain of the passion of women and
of youth. In killing himself, Haemon sets himself free from the legacy of a
cursed father and from a life without love.
Eurydice seems to play absolutely no role in the rest of the drama, but
suddenly appears at the end to take her own life, merely adding to the body
count. At first this may seem like overkill, but this moment is rather a precise
fulfilment of the terms of Teiresias' prophecy. Indeed, Haemon's life is
exchanged for Polyneices' - a death characterized by shame and vengefulness.
Eurydice, meanwhile, will atone for Antigone's death - she dies much like
Antigone, cursing Creon to the end, abdicating any sense of his self-ascribed
power.
Creon asks for death, as his misery and guilt are too much to bear, but the gods
do not oblige. Finally, Creon is contrite - he knows that he killed Haemon and
Antigone and shamed Polyneices, and that he can no longer be king or live
among humans. In a final, cruelly ironic twist, he asks for the same fate as
those he killed - a death of suffering - but the Chorus makes it clear that his
destiny is to live out his days in the deepest regret and shame, as a symbol that
no mortal can escape his divine fate. The Chorus ends with a distillation of the
theme that it is wisdom - not power, money, love or good deeds - that is the
key to a blessed life. With wisdom comes reverence from the gods, a disdain of
arrogance, and the freedom from suffering that comes from believing in the
omnipotence of man.
Ultimately, however, we're left with the question of whether Antigone is a true
martyr - an innocent victim - or whether she also bears responsibility for her
own death. Critics of the time made a number of charges against Antigone - all
seemingly tied to her transgressions as a woman. She "leaves her home in the
dark before dawn to conspire with her sister, and such activity in the dark is
forbidden to women. She takes on burial, which is men's work. She does not
accept male authority, and she threatens the order of the city by violating an
order of the king" (Woodruff xvii). Perhaps most damning of all, she seems to
make a conscious choice to give up the life of a woman (marriage, children,
etc.) to stand by her principles - something that must have truly infuriated the
men of the time. But Antigone's argument for the power of unwritten, divine
law is particularly cogent and seems to deny any attempts to impose a tragic
flaw upon her. Her reasoning, simply put, is that it doesn't matter what man
conceives of as right and wrong for himself, and it certainly doesn't matter if
these things are written in stone. Rather, it is more important to follow divine
truth - the rights and wrongs of the heart - to ensure that man will live in
accordance with the will of the gods. As a result, there is no precise law - only a
guide what should be done in a given circumstance - and though she will be
punished for her supposed transgression by losing her life, and regrets such a
cruel fate, Antigone cannot take back what she has done because it is the only
thing she could have done as a child of the gods.