Steven Cooney
Classics of Western Literature
Dr. Thomas Goldpaugh
4/8/15
The Theban Plays: Complexity and Contradiction in the Works of Sophocles
Imagine a perfect world. In this sensible utopia, this veritable El Dorado, order and
fairness govern the human experience. Questions have definitive answers, morality is concretely
defined, and karma dictates fate with clarity and impartiality. Consider now the stark contrasts
between this universe and our own: how unimaginable, how unfamiliar this experience might be.
It is inconceivable largely because we construct our understanding of the human experience, and
of the complexity of human nature, through the exploration of inconsistencies that defy this
perfect sensibility. Only by acknowledging the seemingly irreconcilable, ambiguous
contradictions that derail any rational characterization of our world can we best recognize our
own complexity. For this reason, philosophy studies questions rather than answers.
Irony is our principal tool for expressing these incongruities; it demonstrates the vast,
insurmountable gap between rationality’s expectations and reality’s inexplicable disorder. Irony
expresses the futility of our supposedly infallible logic, and highlights the ignorance that plagues
our perception of ourselves and of cultural institutions and conventions. In its extreme form,
irony demolishes any notion of sensibility, becoming paradoxical by twisting conventionally
acceptable platitudes into perfect contradictions. Paradoxes epitomize our capacity for duplicity.
They illustrate our ability to think and behave in innumerable and contradictory fashions
simultaneously, examining the psychological and societal realities that generate such complexity.
Examining our capacity for contradiction offers tremendous insight into the underlying
motivations that govern society’s cultural identities and practices, as displayed by Sophocles’
Theban plays-especially Oedipus Rex and Antigone-which employ irony and paradox
unrelentingly to explore deeply philosophical, manifold, and universally significant questions
concerning human nature and the ways we structure our society.
The inescapable ironies of Oedipus’ rise and tragic fall function to illustrate Sophocles’
portrayal of various philosophical notions including the convoluted relationship between fate and
free will, as well as the illusion of a neatly defined world. The plays’ more obvious ironies direct
the focus of readers or audience members, while denser and sub-textual ironies offer
commentary on the works’ philosophical implications. Dramatic irony, which occurs when the
audience is privileged to information unknown to a story’s characters, is in some ways the
simplest and most obvious form of irony; when the audience hears Oedipus vow to bring Laius’
killer to justice, they are already aware that Oedipus is condemning himself. “In avenging Laius,
I serve myself,” he declares, yet this could not be farther from the truth (Sophocles 169).
Because the audience is privileged to knowledge of Oedipus’ backstory, they can understand that
while the characters focus on identifying Laius’ killer, their attention should focus on evaluating
the contradicting natural and human forces that lead Oedipus to fulfill his tragic prophecy. While
numerous coincidences in Oedipus’ journey-such as the discovery of his mysterious past in a
drunken delirium, or his unlikely roadside confrontation with Laius-suggest that Oedipus is
forcefully compelled towards his fate, his ironic and occasionally nonsensical decisions suggest
that his own choices lead to his demise. Even when Creon describes the incident of Laius’ death,
Oedipus does not recognize his own guilt (133-5). Oedipus’ hubris prevents him from realizing
the situational irony of his search for himself. By combining these forms of irony, Sophocles
demands that readers consider whether Oedipus is responsible for his fate or is merely destiny’s
pawn, and, by extension, whether our lives our governed by chance and predetermination or by
our own free will. Sophocles offers no solution to this central question; rather, he inspires his
audience to contemplate these complex forces by highlighting their contradictory nature.
Moreover, Sophocles demonstrates the duplicitous motivations that dictate cultural
practices using paradoxes, which reflect the conflicting interests generated by complex social
issues. Creon’s decision not to bury Polyneices, for example, stems from his desire to achieve
order following a state of chaos. When Polyneices recruits hired mercenaries to attack Thebes in
an attempt to take the throne from his brother, he systematically disregards the invaluable sense
of cultural unity. His attack plunges Thebes into civil-war, eradicating any semblance of stability
and contradicting central Thespian values that place the collective wellbeing of the state over the
interests of any one individual. Creon’s decision to leave Polyneices unburied is a pragmatic
measure designed to promote stability by punishing Polyneices heresy, which directly contradicts
the values of unity that are central to Thebes’ cultural identity, in the most egregious manor
imaginable. This plan, however, is inherently flawed in the paradox it creates; to discourage
Polyneices’ affront to Thespian values and stability, Creon outlaws the traditional burial rituals,
practices of divine providence that are central to Thebes’ cultural identity.
This paradox illuminates the dilemma that arises when aspects of a culture’s identity
contradict practical concerns in a time of crisis. This predicament is not unique to Sophocles’
Thebes. For example, following September 11th, the United States abandoned an integral portion
of its cultural identity, just as Creon does by denying Polyneices a proper burial. The advent of
The Patriot Act categorically defied traditional American values by exponentially increasing the
government’s ability to investigate and monitor American citizens, in some ways eradicating the
notion that citizens should be protected from the government as well as by the government. From
the very inception of our country, we have heralded the importance of protection from the
government. Limiting government’s intrusions is an integral and inalienable aspect of our
cultural identity, important to our society much in the same way burial rights were to Thebes.
Creon’s law and The Patriot Act each generate controversy because they directly contradict
values central to their culture. Antigone excoriates Creon’s decisions, lamenting what she calls
“dishonors which better fit our enemies/ [that] are now being piled up on the ones we love” (123). The pragmatic sensibility of Creon’s law does nothing to reconcile the emotional crisis it
creates, and Antigone’s subsequent dissonance demonstrates the inevitable collapse of
Sophocles’ paradox.
While Creon’s law seems fundamentally beneficial, it is irrevocably flawed by its
paradoxical nature; the city is unwilling to sacrifice one aspect of its identity for the preservation
of another. Haemon warns his father that the city has rejected the law, saying “in the darkness I
can hear them talk-/ the city is upset about the girl” (692-3). Despite his son’s protests, however,
Creon continues to justify his decision, saying “according to our laws/ does not the ruler own the
city?” (840-1). Once again Creon repeats, in new form, his paradoxical logic. Once again Creon
rationalizes that the preservation of one cultural value-in this instance, the absolute authority of a
strong, tyrannical leader-justifies the suspension of another. Because of this unwavering hubris,
most audience members perceive Antigone’s disobedience sympathetically. By burying
Polyneices, Antigone defends Thespian values in the same way that many people feel Edward
Snowden defended American values by exposing the extent of Government surveillance. These
cases, however, often generate more controversy than consensus; the nature of a paradox,
Sophocles shows, is to have no definite resolution, and the questions they raise often have no
single, clear answer. Rather, Sophocles uses paradoxes and ironies to express the ambiguity and
uncertainty that cloud and complicate our cultural institutions.
While some viewers may have practical objections to Antigone’s actions, fearing that her
insubordination will only destabilize an already turbulent political environment, the legitimacy of
her defiance is further supported by yet another ironic aspect of Creon’s decree. He advocates for
active citizenship, saying of anyone who “through fear keeps his mouth forever shut/ such a man
is the very worst of men” (204-5). Continuing, he promises that he “would not stay silent if [he]
saw disaster/moving here against the citizens” (210-11). Creon makes these statements to
promote his version of stability for Thebes by asserting that citizens have the obligation to
inform him of any threat to his authority or to the state in general. Although it was not Creon’s
intention, however, his proclamation can also be interpreted as endorsement of civil
disobedience. By Creon’s own decree, it is not just Antigone’s right, but her obligation, to
protest a law that she and many other Thespians consider to be an attack on their cultural identity
and an affront to their gods. The irony of Creon’s unintentionally duplicitous remarks further
highlights the blasphemy of his law, exposing one more weakness in the logic he uses to govern.
Irony and paradox are the two primary strategies Sophocles uses to convey the
philosophical and psychological complexity of Oedipus Rex and Antigone. With carefully crafted
contradictions, he explores numerous topics that are universally significant and generally
unresolvable, including the existence of free will, the inevitability of fate, and the importance of
cultural identity. The philosophical depth Sophocles achieves through the use of these
contradictions makes his work universally relatable and endlessly debatable.
Works Cited
Sophocles, and R. D. Dawe. Oedipus Rex. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1982. Print.
Sophocles, and Richard Emil Braun. Antigone. New York: Oxford UP, 1973. Print.