Dramatis Personae
SOPHOCLES, a playwright
SOCRATES, a philosopher
A POLICEMAN
A FLYING ROBOT Inhabited by the Ghost of Søren Kierkegaard
CHORUS of Graduate Students
SCENE: the outside of a small house in Carson, California.
Enter SOPHOCLES from the house.
SOPHOCLES
I do not know how I came here. Until
Just one short moment past, or so it seemed,
I walked among the shadows of the dead
in Hades. That drear silence, that murk and wandering,
gave way to this strange land of light and sound
in which I have just now passed some hours
of wine and talk in yonder house. The wine
is some devil’s wine, and the talk is odd,
to my ears barbarous, yet somehow I speak
and understand it. Mystery upon mystery!
The air here has a bitter tang, and yet
I breathe it better than I did the fog
of Hell, now fled. And there is moisture, warmth—
Above me rides the chariot of Phoebus,
I’ll warrant, and his rays are bright, so warm
and joyful on my face. Gladly I greet
the god.
Enter CHORUS, with notebooks.
Approaches now a crowd of youths,
some natives of this place, no doubt. Perhaps
they’ll help me shed some light on this new world,
my new life. Ho there, boys, please stop a while.
Are you from around here?
CHORUS
Hello. We know
you. You are Sophocles, the playwright. We
will speak with you.
SOPHOCLES
How is it that you know my name and work?
Who are you?
CHORUS
We brought you here. Through the force of our will,
we made you come.
SOPHOCLES
That hardly makes sense—not yet, anyway.
May I at least ask why?
CHORUS
We are students, sir, and we are writing a paper. Help us.
SOPHOCLES
Do I have a choice?
CHORUS
Ah, that is always the question, isn’t it? Well,
here goes. What is the tragic worldview?
SOPHOCLES
Oh, I can answer that. In fact, I could
go on for days.
CHORUS
We shall not interrupt,
but be aware, from time to time, if you
happen to utter a word or sentence or
idea that some later writer has set down,
we’ll chant his name, a sort of euphonious
accompaniment to the lesson.
SOPHOCLES
But if as you say, you brought
me here, I’m in your debt. I begin then:
In tragedy, bad things happen
CHORUS
(Aristotle 39)
SOPHOCLES
What? Oh, I see.
Since bad things happen, it might seem that doom
is the tragic worldview, inevitable doom,
despair, misfortune,
CHORUS
… as claimed by Butcher (262).
SOPHOCLES
But that is not the case at all. In fact,
tragedy communicates multiple
meanings on various levels. The author,
the performers, and the audience know
the foundation, purpose, source, medium, and effect
of tragedy, and the perspective that tragedy
communicates is not one of doom. Rather,
tragedy is about creation. The making
of tragedy is a creative act,
and so is the performance, and so too
the viewing is an act of creative
expression. Thus creation and destruction
are together in tragedy in a tense
and fertile mix
CHORUS
(Corrigan 15).
Enter SOCRATES from the house.
SOPHOCLES
Ah, welcome to the daylight, friend. I am
bestowing on these youths a lesson in art.
Judging from our conversation of
the last few hours, this is something that you
as well would find of interest.
CHORUS
It is Socrates!
SOPHOCLES
No. Socrates? How could it be that I
did not recognize him, talking there
for hours?
CHORUS
Perhaps, like you, he was changed by death.
SOCRATES
Hardly!
CHORUS
Socrates, it is your way to dispute;
Tell us the way of philosophy.
SOCRATES
Delighted.
SOPHOCLES
The foundation of tragedy is myth.
SOCRATES
The foundation of philosophy is reason.
SOPHOCLES
The source of tragedy is the imagination.
SOCRATES
The source of philosophy is nature.
SOPHOCLES
The purpose of tragedy is to move the emotions.
SOCRATES
The purpose of philosophy is to move the intellect.
SOPHOCLES
The medium of tragedy is hearing.
SOCRATES
The medium of philosophy is sight.
SOPHOCLES
The result of tragedy is moral improvement.
SOCRATES
Ah, so too philosophy.
CHORUS
Finally, some common ground.
SOCRATES
Tell me, Sophocles, if that is your name, does tragedy teach?
SOPHOCLES
Why, yes, certainly I would say that it does.
SOCRATES
So then, the tragedian is a teacher?
SOPHOCLES
Yes.
SOCRATES
But in a play like “King Oedipus,” it is knowledge, isn’t it, which leads to the protagonist’s undoing?
SOPHOCLES
Exactly right. Oedipus has done nothing wrong, but he is destroyed when he attains knowledge about his past.
SOCRATES
So you would say that knowledge is bad, that knowledge leads to disaster?
SOPHOCLES
Well …
SOCRATES
Come, now, it is unquestionably your point. Likewise, Antigone finds her doom because of knowledge. Can you imagine the existence of a Parthian, say, or a Briton, somebody without any knowledge of what the gods require?
SOPHOCLES
I can.
SOCRATES
Is such a person to blame for not honoring the gods?
SOPHOCLES
It would seem that in fairness such a person could not be held responsible for sins of omission.
SOCRATES
Indeed. So then, if Antigone had been an ignorant barbarian, she would not have known of the demands of piety upon the virtuous woman. In ignorance she could have refrained from burying her brother, and she would have been blameless. Her life could have been spared.
SOPHOCLES
I’m not arguing with you, Socrates. Knowledge is doom. The very name of Oedipus is a pun on the word “know”
CHORUS
(Knox 152).
SOCRATES
And you see, that is where we differ. Ignorance is sin
CHORUS
(Kierkegaard 218).
SOCRATES
In philosophy, knowledge leads to virtue, attainment, fulfillment. This clumsy speech does not serve so I must go back to the tongue of Attica: it is arête of which I speak.
CHORUS
(Plato 201). Well said, Socrates. Now, what of love?
SOPHOCLES
Allow me. What did Antigone gain from her love for her brother, or her love for the gods? Did Haemon’s love for Antigone do any better? Death is the bitter fruit harvested from the vine of love. But the effect of displaying love in this light by means of tragedy is to edify the spectators.
SOCRATES
And give them enjoyment?
SOPHOCLES
Yes, enjoyment too. The dramatist is guided in what he creates by the characteristics and preferences of his audience
CHORUS
(Aristotle 47).
SOCRATES
Again we differ. The philosopher must remain objective, unswayed by likes and dislikes. As for love, which you dismiss as a bane, you could not be more mistaken. You spoke earlier of the urge to create. That is what love is, and it includes and subsumes the longing for immortality. It is the most natural of human attributes, and immensely beneficial as long as it is not misdirected.
CHORUS
(Plato 202).
SOPHOCLES
We both place creativity at the center.
CHORUS
It is to be hoped that our professor will do the same!
Well, these two have been teaching up a storm. I hope they don’t run out of wind. Uh, oh, what’s this? One of L.A.’s finest approaches.
Enter POLICEMAN from the left.
POLICEMAN
What’s going on here? Is it a toga party? Why this big crowd? We’ve gotten a report of a disturbance …
SOPHOCLES
(Indicating his apparel)
This is not a toga.
CHORUS
No, no disturbance here, officer. We’re minding our own business, having a chat.
Exit SOCRATES into the house.
POLICEMAN
Where’s he going? Stop! There’s something wrong here …
Exit POLICEMAN into the house, in rapid pursuit of Socrates.
CHORUS
A gloom of dread descends. Our deadline menaces us.
SOPHOCLES
Be silent. I must think.
(He starts to stalk the stage, pacing.)
If that is Socrates … but, no … and you … great gods … you are … you are a chorus! I did not notice before because you were clumsy, your steps out of time, music absent, and you came in without a parodos … haven’t done any odes … and look, I am standing upon a stage. I am not a real person at all. I am nothing but a character in a play! I am nothing, less than nothing. How could this be? Oh, give me back my Hell!
Exit SOPHOCLES, running, into the house.
CHORUS
We are to blame. His lines were written by us. We made him see, made him know. We created those screams. And more—listen.
Enter SOPHOCLES, weeping.
SOPHOCLES
The scene in the house is too bitter to tell. Perhaps you already know. The suffering—Socrates clapped in chains, under arrest, accused of a kiss. He kisses the boy who brought the pizza, seventeen years old—the punishment will be eight years in prison. He is ruined, and I—what am I?—not even alive.
Enter POLICEMAN with SOCRATES in handcuff. Socrates, struggling, manages to remove his mask, revealing that he is actually Plato.
SOCRATES
You see! I am not even Socrates anyway. It’s all a case of mistake identity. I was Plato all along! Ha!
POLICEMAN
Well, not to worry. Come along. We’ll get it all ironed out down at the station.
CHORUS
Very well. I shall return home and write this: Tragedy and philosophy are the same in that they are expressions of humanity. The playwright and the philosopher are both teachers. The philosopher loves knowledge and seeks it as a thing of value. The tragedian teaches us that knowledge leads to destruction, even while it is our destiny to attain it. Therefore our destiny is destruction. Knowledge elevates and destroys. Love elevates and destroys. Thus it ends. We make our way home to the sound of distant sirens.
Exit CHORUS.