Antigone: A Poem

Ismene and Antigone—two sisters

outside the gates of Thebes,

Ismene with vacillating determinations,

Antigone indomitable to the closing.

Recently returned from a journey lately ceased,

they hear their brothers both are lately deceased.

Strong Eteocles, defending his country

slain by his brother Polyneices, traitorous and greedy

in a tussle for the throne. 

The loss of two brothers once,

turned enemies at the end,

sisters too late to save them,

just in time to hear the decree,

as they heartbrokenly mourn
they hear: Polyneices never shall be borne

into the earth, left above ground. 

Their royal uncle Creon, jealous is he

Jealous of the throne, intent on bending

the population to his will, 

as he honors Eteocles as Hero

censures Polyneices as Renegade

—forbidding his burial—

vultures for the traitor will fit his bill.

Dismayed by this revelation, Antigone mourns,

the sister’s heart inside her bewailing the loss

she suffers by her brothers’ death, 

furthered by disrespect shown Polyneices.

Determined, she declares “I’ll do my best,

to honor both brothers, disobey,

and bury Polyneices.

Will you join me?”

Ismene refuses to accompany

Antigone on her wily

attempt to honor their brother,

“Why risk more woe?”

And so Antigone goes alone

to do what she may to pay respects to the dead.

Antigone lingers, sprinkling dust on Polyneices’ body

weeping, mourning the memory of her brother…

But a wandering countryman finds her handiwork,

rushing to the palace, to inform Creon,

 “Burial rites performed on Polyneices’—

but please it was not me!”

The incensed king orders the witness,

“Find that person or peril on your existence!”

Terrified, the man apprehends Antigone, caught her in the act,

and to the tyrant Creon, brings her back.

Enraged that a citizen, his own niece

disregards his will so totally

he orders her to be imprisoned,

buried alive and left to die.

Despair encompasses Ismene

fearful to live with her sister not

determined to share Antigone’s lot

But the condemned testifies to her innocence

and Creon cares only for the violator, not the sister,

—Ismene left in tears

—Antigone sealed without fears.

Remembering the crimes of her father,

destiny visiting her today for yesterday’s sin,

Antigone knows her fate, ready to

wed personified death, her expiration,

peaceful, glad, in the face of death.

Finding a rope, twists it to a knot, 

“O welcome Death! Now you have me, I am yours!”

these were her last words.

Tiresias, blind prophet, approaches,

warns Creon of his error,

“Your offsprings’s ruin,

your son for the murder of your niece,

punishment for the destruction of budding beauty.”

The gods against him, they be,

incensed by your cheek,

to make yourself into one like them.”

Creon irritated that his decree

be overturned by those holding 

greater power than he, 

he vacillates, unwilling.

“How dare you say

the gods, clear as day,

want the girl released?”

Townspeople cry, “Tiresias never lied to Thebes, 

and all his prophecies ring true,

your grief shall surely come

if you leave the girl to die, you’ll rue.”

Decided, Creon realizes

the petty risks he takes

to uphold himself, why try

if it only brings more misery?

Creon rushes to the tomb,

intent now to free Antigone to save his own.

But alas, too late:

already Antigone has strung and swung her rope,

acquiescent to death, she’s welcomed her grave, wide-armed—

Haëmon is distraught. He came

to rescue her, that they may live together,

free from his father’s limits,

but he found her dead already,

swinging on her rope.

Creon has arrived too late, 

to free her now useless,

as his flesh and blood Haëmon 

turns on him in rage

brandishing a sharp sword

but Creon springs away, does not witness

his son running on the sword in distress.

Sentry reaches royal palace first, 

announces ruin of Haëmon and Antigone,

and Eurydice, lady of the house,

struck by the sudden death 

of son and daughter both, 

whirling emotions, retreating to her chambers with a knife…

Mourning Creon enters his home,

“Oh, what have I done?”

The messenger enters—Haëmon’s suicide—

the prophecy fulfilled,

the weak-willed boy too tormented

to live without the love

his father has destroyed.

Creon anguished further,

turns for consolation,

reaching for Eurydice, a warm embrace,

only to receive more woe—

his wife—a son’s death—despair—and she has pierced herself,

slain herself like Haemon,

devastated by a mother’s grief…

All for a mistake of his proud whims,

no family or relief for him—

with wails and moans,

Creon is left alone.

.

.

.

.

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—I wrote this last month in place of an essay while I studied Sophocles. I particularly like it, so I wanted to share. I am currently working on a prose reworking of The Aeneid, about which I am also excited. I have really enjoyed choosing creative writing projects rather than the dry essays I typically am tasked (at least, I find them dry. I have not quite struck a balance in essays, though I am finding a groove.) Peace.

Shakespeare Using Gloucester and Lear

Prompt: Compare and contrast Gloucester and Lear, focusing on their choices, their adherence to kingly or noble ideals, their relationships with their children, their level of wisdom and humility (at the beginning and end of the story), and/or other parallels you might find interesting. Be sure to integrate quotes from the text to support your comparisons. 

     Through the differences and similarities between Lear and Gloucester, Shakespeare reaches his audience in a relatable way in King Lear. Though Shakespeare wrote King Lear based on several older stories, he added the sub-plot of Gloucester and his children. Because of the addition of Gloucester to the story, it is clear that Shakespeare meant for the correlations and contrasts between Lear and Gloucester to add to the thematic development in King Lear. For example, Gloucester’s physical blindness can be seen in Lear, when he is blind to the truth of his daughters’ love for him; these two instances of sightlessness makes the theme of blindness in King Lear more poignant. 

     Though Lear loses his sanity and Gloucester loses his sight, in some way, each also has the other’s problem. In the beginning for the book when Lear is starting to lose his sanity, he begins to lose sight of the truth, a figurative blindness. When he finally learns the truth of Goneril and Regan, Lear laments, “O, Fool, I shall go mad!” In contrast, after first becoming physically blinded, Gloucester slowly begins to lose hints of his sanity. His state of suffering—emotional and physical—and sightlessness was enough to send him a little over the edge. Causing one to think about one's own sightlessness and loss of reality, these contrasts and similarities between the two men’s encounters with the metaphors of sight and insanity add depth to the reading of King Lear.

     Gloucester and Lear both have opportunities to learn from their decisions and those of their children. When Gloucester discovers that Edmund has been lying to him, Gloucester is beside himself in grief and longs to see Edgar, the son that he has previously written off, saying, “O dear son Edgar…/Might I but live to see thee in my touch.” When Lear learns that his older daughters are deceiving him, Lear becomes angry and upset, but when he finds his youngest daughter Cordelia, his disposition lightens and he turns happier. In these circumstances of their children’s betrayals and reunions with their faithful children, the two fathers have very similar reactions. 

     Gloucester and Lear relate to their children in very different ways. Being wealthy, both Lear and Gloucester have money, property, and titles that their children could inherit. King Lear plans to gift his children with their inheritance; Gloucester’s Edmund devises a plot to use his father’s goodness and steal his brother’s inheritance. Gloucester and Lear approach their children’s love and loyalty for them differently as well. Though both listen to words, not actions, Lear gives each of his daughters a chance to speak for themselves. He goes to all of his daughters, asking whether each loves him. Imploring Cordelia to “mend her speech” when her expression of love is simple, he wants to believe she loves him more greatly than her sisters. Unlike Lear, however, Gloucester only listens to what Edmund has to say; when Edmund goes to his father first, Gloucester does not even attempt to ask Edgar for what he might have to say. Though Lear and Gloucester both take their children at their word, Gloucester is not concerned with talking to both of his sons before reaching a decision about them, as Lear does with his daughters. Lear is desperate for his daughters to love him; Gloucester is ready to believe, without much thought, that Edgar is devising a plot to kill him. 

     In Shakespeare’s play, Gloucester and Lear are similar in many ways. They have similar lessons to learn and they are both affected by their children’s actions. Though in different ways, the themes of insanity, blindness, and family love are all present in both Gloucester and Lear. Not surprisingly, their reactions to and experiences of similar situations have their differences; they are different people. Through the characters of Gloucester and Lear, Shakespeare portrays how two people will respond to similar situations in very different ways. Since people rarely have the exact same circumstances in their life and they rarely respond to them in the same way, it would be hard to relate to a story with characters with identical lives, and this is what makes Shakespeare’s plays universal and beloved by so many.

--This is, obviously, an essay on Shakespeare's play King Lear.  I got a 97 on this paper (though I've already made some of the slight changes my teacher suggested). I want to publish my papers on my blog, but I get so caught up in the actually writing-of-the-papers that I have been forgetting to do that, so, as I think of it when needing a break, I'll try to catch up.