Non-European Adaptations of Sophocles' Antigone Compared

Introduction

The ancient Greeks — and specifically the ancient Athenians — have served as models for Western society throughout the two millennia since their civilization all but passed from the earth. In the areas of philosophy, art, the sciences, politics, government, and indeed almost any human cultural endeavor, the Greeks have functioned as a beacon to subsequent generations. Many of their achievements, and the stories that the Greeks first committed to writing, are stories still told today. More than that, they are stories that still inform Western perspectives on the world and are still often directly and indirectly alluded to in modern literary texts and other forms of media, artistic expression, and philosophical and political discourse.

One of the areas in which the Greeks have remained a major influence on Western culture is in the world of the theatre. The Greeks were the first known civilization to engage in formalized theatrical presentations in a way that is recognizable and comparable to our own modern-day performances, and many Greek values, principles, and beliefs regarding dramatic texts and their purposes remain relevant today. Both in the design and the external impact of dramatic texts, modern playwrights and artists continue to find inspiration from the ancient Greeks, and often write comedies and tragedies that follow the same basic formulas and principles of plot, characterization, and story that dominated Greek texts for centuries. This paper examines one specific text that has had an inordinate and continuing impact.

Sophocles' Antigone is part of the ongoing saga of Oedipus Rex and the fallout from his tragic fall from the throne of Thebes — a story likely based on some historical fact that had already reached mythic proportions by the time Sophocles wrote his version of the events. Antigone's story takes place after Oedipus has come and gone, and although Oedipus Rex is likely the more familiar character in popular culture, Antigone is actually far more potent and memorable in many regards. The story of Oedipus Rex follows the quintessential trajectory of a Greek tragedy, with a lack of conscious and planned action leading ultimately to horrifying revelations that split a family and a kingdom apart. Antigone, however, is highly active in making her own decisions, and for this reason her tragedy is uplifting in some regards even as it reveals the futility of an individual human spirit against the machinations of government and military power structures set against it.

Sophocles' Antigone: The Source Text

The original story of Sophocles' Antigone is relatively straightforward as Greek tragedies go, though it can seem complex when a summary and description of the text is attempted in a short space. Following the death of her father Oedipus, Antigone witnesses civil war overtake the city as her brothers attempt to install themselves on the throne. When one brother is victorious, King Creon rules that the body of the defeated brother is to be left unburied — a great dishonor to the man and his family. All of this occurs before the action of the play, and the audience learns of it through expository dialogue.

It is here that the story of Antigone begins its true dramatic ascent. Antigone is determined to go and bury the body of her brother despite the death penalty promised to any who attempt to do so, having decided that personal values and a belief in true justice and moral right must outweigh personal fears and the tyrannies of a despotic government (Sophocles). This is the salient call of Antigone that has made the play a perennial favorite of adapters and translators since the play's rediscovery, and especially in the twentieth century (Lenski 1975; Heaney 2004). The protagonist's civil disobedience against a government that knows it is unjust yet attempts to maintain power through force has been seen as a recurring pattern in many large-scale historical trajectories of the modern era (Lenski 1975; Heaney 2004). It is not surprising, therefore, that many direct adaptations and indirect homages to this early tale of an individual against the state have been created by a diverse range of authors in many different countries and decades.

Ultimately, Antigone meets her expected fate and dies at the hands of the king who promised to mete out this punishment to any who undertook her actions (Sophocles). As in any standard Greek tragedy, Antigone's fate is revealed quite early on, and there is little doubt that she will ultimately die as a result of her disobedience — for the original Greek audience, this would have been a matter of certainty, as they would already have been quite familiar with the story (Heaney 2004). The fact that she is still willing to carry out her actions knowing what her fate will be is what makes Antigone an inspiring figure.

A Puerto Rican Antigone

Though there have been numerous famous European adaptations of Sophocles' Antigone, many non-traditional and post-colonial narratives have also found a great deal of traction with and attraction to the story. In 1969, Puerto Rican playwright Luis Rafael Sánchez saw the premiere of his play La Pasión Según Antígona Pérez (The Passion According to Antigone Perez), a modern adaptation of Sophocles' Antigone set in a fictional Latin American country attempting to overthrow its dictator. The setting was reminiscent of many Latin American countries of the period and the preceding decades, and the play dealt with issues more directly relevant to that society and culture (Sanchez 1969). The basic story remains the same: Creon is the tyrannical dictator while Antigone is a freedom fighter more explicitly and diametrically opposed to Creon for larger social reasons than in Sophocles' play, but the same basic tensions and plot structure are present (Sanchez 1969).

This version of Antigone is somewhat unique in that it was produced at a time when its country of origin — Puerto Rico — was experiencing no great amount of turmoil or undue government intervention, but had rather just experienced a very peaceful election and had democratically decided to remain a semi-independent commonwealth within the United States' federal government structure (Rivera 2010). This Antigone is as much about personal and gender issues as it is about individual versus state power, and like much of the rest of the world in the 1960s, Puerto Rico was undergoing a social revolution of sorts.

Sánchez's version of Antigone's struggle has been read as a highly feminist text displaying Antigone's need to assert herself in both the male world of the official government and the equally patriarchal organization of the freedom fighters of which she and her "brothers" were a part (Ben Ur 1975; Soderback 2010). This was recognized as a significant departure in the trajectory of Antigone adaptations and interpretations, and it has been suggested that a non-European — and perhaps especially a Latin American — perspective was needed to make this feature, rather than the state power issue, the dominant tension and point of plot and characterization in the play (Ben Ur 1975). It is, of course, quite possible to develop a highly feminist reading of Sophocles' original Antigone, and indeed the same can be said of the vast majority of adaptations and interpretations of the text. Nevertheless, Sánchez's play was among the first dramatic reinterpretations to truly and effectively highlight this dimension (Soderback 2010).

Conclusion

There have been many Antigones since Sophocles first wrote his version more than two millennia ago. His version was not even the first itself, but was in fact a retelling of history turned into myth. The continued fascination with this story and its continued relevance to human beings across virtually all cultures — at one time or another, and perhaps at all times — reminds us of the repetitive nature that history has long been accused of having. As long as individuals find themselves in conflict with unjust authority, the story of Antigone will find new tellers and new audiences ready to recognize its truth.