“What are humans like?”
Poll: Are Humans Basically Good or Basically Bad?
Write: A Little More Time with Our Visitor from Outer Space
Watch: Introduction to a Close-Reading of the Ode to Man
Read: The “Ode to Man”
First Stasimon
Chorus
[Strophe a]
Many wonders, many terrors, But none more wonderful than the human race Or more dangerous. This creature travels on a winter gale (335) Across the silver sea, Shadowed by high-surging waves, While on Earth, grandest of the gods, He grinds the deathless, tireless land away, Turning and turning the plow (340) From year to year, behind driven horses.
[Antistrophe a]
Light-headed birds he catches And takes them away in legions. Wild beasts Also fall prey to him. And all that is born to live beneath the sea (345) Is thrashing in his woven nets. For he is Man, and he is cunning. He has invented ways to take control Of beasts that range mountain meadows: Taken down the shaggy-necked horses, (350) The tireless mountain bulls, And put them under the yoke.
[Strophe b]
Language and a mind swift as the wind For making plans – (355) These he has taught himself– And the character to live in cities under law. He’s learned to take cover from a frost And escape sharp arrows of sleet. He has the means to handle every need, (360) Never steps toward the future without the means. Except for Death: He’s got himself no relief from that, Though he puts every mind to seeking cures For plagues that are hopeless.
[Antistrophe b]
He has cunning contrivance, (365) Skill surpassing hope, And so he slithers into wickedness sometimes, Other times into doing good. If he honors the law of the land And the oath-bound justice of the gods, (370) Then his city shall stand high. But no city for him if he turns shameless out of daring. He will be no guest of mine, He will never share my thoughts, If he goes wrong.
Write: What Does the Ode Say About What We Humans Are Like?
Watch: Antigone for Our Time?
Because America is also a kind of democracy, you might naturally think that Greek tragedy, as a form of art that developed in the democracy of ancient Athens, might also be relevant for our times. The Theater of War Productions group takes this idea to heart and performs Greek tragedies in direct connection with today’s issues and with the communities affected by those issues. “Antigone in Ferguson” is one such production. Developing in the wake of Michael Brown’s death in Ferguson, MO, in 2014, this production “fuses dramatic readings by leading actors … with live choral music performed by a choir of activists, police officers, youth, and concerned citizens from Ferguson and New York City. The performance is the catalyst for panel and audience-driven discussions about radicalized violence, structural oppression, misogyny, gender violence, and social justice.” (quoted from the Theater of War YouTube site) Please take a look at this 10-minute minidocumentary about Antigone in Ferguson.
Write: Connecting to Contemporary Issues
Optional Bonus: A Different Version of the Ode to Man
It can be easy to forget when you’re reading the play, but the original version was in Ancient Greek! So the play you’ve been reading is a translation. Take a look at this other translation of the Ode to Man by a very famous Canadian poet, Anne Carson. Carson is well known for her interest in writing from the cultures of Ancient Greece. I wonder how a version in Dzongkha would read!
The Ode to Man from Sophocles’ Antigone
by Anne Carson
Many terribly quiet customers exist but none more terribly quiet than Man: his footsteps pass so perilously soft across the sea in marble winter, up the stiff blue waves and every Tuesday down he grinds the unastonishable earth with horse and shatter. Shatters too the cheeks of birds and traps them in his forest headlights, salty silvers roll into his net, he weaves it just for that, this terribly quiet customer. He dooms animals and mountains technically, by yoke he makes the bull bend, the horse to its knees. And utterance and thought as clear as complicated air and moods that make a city moral, these he taught himself. The snowy cold he knows to flee and every human exigency crackles as he plugs it in: every outlet works but one. Death stays dark. Death he cannot doom. Fabrications notwithstanding. Evil, good, laws, gods, honest oath taking notwithstanding. Hilarious in his high city you see him cantering just as he please, the lava up to here.