Notes on Antigone
Antigone is a tragedy of clashing personalities. Creon, the dictatorial leader of Thebes, is intoxicated with his own authority. His word is law, and the state is embodied in his person. Athenian audiences would have understood Creon as an illegitimate, unwise, impious ruler; the antithesis of the Athenian democratic ideal. In the wake of the attack of the Seven Against Thebes, the Thebans have won the day, but at great cost to Oedipus's sons. Eteiocles, ally of Creon, has died in battle in the arms of his inimical brother Polyneices. Because Polyneices was allied with the enemy, Creon has decreed that he shall not be buried, left to rot outside the city gates, while his brother will be given a state funeral with the highest honors. Creon has his political reasons for issuing this edict. He is trying mightily to right the ship of state, to reinstate law and order in Thebes. He needs to consolidate power around him, even if it requires the institution of martial law. Thebes has been cursed for too long. It requires a strong man like Creon to get it set right again. The refusal to bury Polyneices would have been regarded as a rash, extreme act on his part, but in Creon's mind, extreme times demand extreme measures. Anyone attempting to bury the body will be executed.
Creon's main rival in the play is Antigone, Oedipus's daughter and fiancee of Creon's son Haemon. Antigone is a force to be reckoned with. She has promised her brother Polyneices that she will give him a proper burial, and she has no intentions of quitting now. Nothing can stop her, not even the bullying Creon. Sophocles uses the character of Ismene in this play as a foil to Antigone. Ismene is reluctant to defy the law, much to Antigone's chagrin. Later in the play, when Creon suspects Ismene has also played a role in the crime, she lies to him, admitting she did help. She wants to be at Antigone's side, to share her culpability, but Antigone steps in to take all credit for herself. In part, this might be driven by a sisterly love to spare Ismene, but there's also the sense that Antigone is proud of her solo act, and wants to be martyred for this cause. No one is going to steal the show from her.
Fundamentally, the play dramatizes the thematic clash between one's duty to the state and loyalty to the family. Sophocles wants us to think about how far a citizen will bend following orders, even if it means denying the close kinship bonds of sisters, brothers, fathers, and sons. Antigone is willing to be martyred for her cause, for her close blood ties to her brother. We also witness an inverted loyalty of Creon to his state, for his family is sacrificed in the process. Antigone honors her broken family; Creon's family is broken by his honor to the state.
The play's plot moves swiftly, economically. When the play opens, Antigone is plotting to violate Creon's unfair decree. In her conversation with Ismene, we discover her fortitude, her singleminded purpose: death with honor. The chorus of Theban senators sings of the recent victory in battle and of the wish for peace. Creon marches onto the scene declaring his political philosophy: he will not rest in the face of brewing mischief. His role as leader is to restore order, even if it means ruling with an iron fist. A sentinel reports that someone has thrown dirt on the body of Polyneices. Creon assumes a man has performed the deed, and threatens death to the guards if they don't capture the perpetrator. After the first stasimon, the sentinel returns with the captured Antigone, who has been caught in the act. The second episode centers on the dialogue of Antigone in Creon. He asks her why she did it. She is defiant. Creon feels his manhood has been called into question, and he shows himself to be quite the male chauvenist. How dare a woman defy his man power. He will not show mercy. He will not back down. He will make an example of this girl. After the second stasimon, we have the third episode, which contains the intense dialogue between Creon and Haemon, his son. Haemon approaches his father with respect, but he wants to persuade him to change his mind. His plea is eminently sensible, rational, and with the best interests of his father at heart, and yet Creon turns a deaf ear to the appeal. In fact, he goes ballistic. The converation devolves into a shouting match, bitter with generational conflict. After this scene, Antigone comes on stage to deliver her farewell address to the chorus. She wears her punishment like a badge of honor. We have one final exchange before she leaves to be buried alive in a cave. In this play the time is out of joint. The dead go unburied and the living are buried alive. It is not until Tiresias takes the stage that Creon will be swayed to change his mind. And it does not happen instantly. Basically, the blind prophet tells him that the altars have been defiled by the birds and dogs who have feasted on Polyneices' rotting corpse. The gods are frowning again upon Thebes. Creon resists this advice, until Tireias hurls the prophecy at him that his child will pay the price for this unjust death sentence. Creon finally relents, but it is too late. Antigone has hung herself, Haemon discovers the body, spits in his father's face, draws a sword and attacks his father, who runs away, whereupon Haemon kills himself. ON hearing the news, Creon's wife Eurydice silently goes to her room and kills herself.
One question suggested by the play is this: in what cases is civil disobedience acceptable? Are there instances when it is fitting to defy authority? To break the rules? To disobey?
Lest we think Antigone to be the pure, righteous, and courageous heroine of this drama, lets remind ourselves that she too is a tragic figure. If Creon's hamartia was excessive authority, Antigone has her hamartia too. It can be found in the chorus's observation that her self sufficiency has been her undoing. Her error has been self-righteousness, so sure that she is right that she cuts herself off from human contact, from her sister, her fiancee, leaving her alone and leaning away from the living, towards the dead. She is a law unto herself. By the play's end, Creon has proved to be open to reason; he does change his mind (too late, alas). But Antigone is never open to deliberation. She knows she's right. Is she over confident? Although we probably take her side in the argument, she fails to recognize that there are other options. Perhaps by allying herself with Ismene, Haemon, and Tiresias, that they collectively can move Creon to relent, thus saving her life, her marriage, and continuing her lifeline. By being so certain of her mission, she guarantees a tragic outcome. She never really doubts herself, and because of this, she never hesitates and loses the opportunity of being rescued. There is a little bit of the suicide bomber in Antigone, isn't there? It's a dangerous thing to be so sure you're right.
As for Creon, there's a bit of George W. Bush in him. He's the decider, the man whose certainty in authority has disastrous consequences. At least with Creon, we can say that he admits the error of his ways.
See Patricia Line's "Antigone's Flaw" for a perceptive analysis of Antigone's hamartia.
See also Richard Jebb's commentary at Perseus.