Oedipus/Antigone Essay

Scott Pero
Honors English 10
October 28, 2008
Oedipus/Antigone Paper
Powerful Poison

“I love power. But it is as an instrument that I love it. I love it as a musician loves his violin, to draw out its sounds and chords and harmonies.” Napoleon Bonaparte, ruler of France and would-be conqueror of Europe, had a dream larger than his own short stature: a dream of holding the whole of Europe in the palm of his hand. Like all dictators and conquerors, he sought out power. It drove him forward until he tripped over his own mistake. Power is a vice irresistible to man. We all crave at least a taste of it at times, such is human nature. Napoleon speaks of power as his instrument, using it to drag the people of France and beyond under his command. Another who shared Napoleon’s controlling nature is Creon, the once beloved brother-in-law to King Oedipus in the Oedipus Plays of Sophocles. Creon began, in the audience’s eyes, as the wise and loyal friend to the king, supportive even in Oedipus’ times of hardship, and was content with simply that position. Once Oedipus is gone, however, who is left to take the throne but Creon himself. This is when Creon begins his decline to disaster. It is through Creon’s actions upon becoming king that he displays the flaw of every dictator throughout the course of history: an addiction and thirst for power.

Creon began in Oedipus the King as the proverbial Robin to Oedipus’ Batman. He filled the role of loyal friend well, always faithful and at Oedipus’ side. He becomes distraught, however, when he is accused of something he did not do by his own friend, and shows his disturbance, “If he thinks in all this turmoil of our times/ that any word or act of mine/ was ever done in malice, done to harm,/ I’d rather end my life than live so wronged.” (pg. 28) Creon would rather die than betray his friend. He lavishes this point by saying later, “May I be stricken dead if I be guilty/ in the smaller part of what you charge!” (pg. 36) Loyalty to this magnitude is the characteristic of a true friend. If anybody was ever accused of anything wrong by someone they called ‘friend’, who wouldn’t feel as Creon felt? Creon was still trying to get over the fact that his own brother-in-law said such a thing when Oedipus himself comes barging in scorning his very existence. Still, Creon pursued, always remaining the calmer of the two.

Creon spoke his words calmly and rationally. Meanwhile, Oedipus is raging before him. Creon does not lower himself to yells and grunts like Oedipus, but instead thinks things through. When Creon says, “If you really think a stubborn mind is something to be proud of,/ you’re not thinking straight.” (pg. 30), he exhibits the full extent of his wisdom. For every hot-headed assault by Oedipus, Creon is ready with an opposing and logical comeback. His reason is impeccable, as is shown when he states, “Who would choose uneasy dreams to don a crown/ when all the kingly sway/ can be enjoyed without? I could not covet kingship for itself when I can be a king by other means.” (pg. 33) Creon is saying that he has no need to dethrone Oedipus; he is already appeased with the position they both are in. He doesn’t need to be king to be happy. How, one may ask, does such a model friend turn into a power-hungry ruler? It all starts with a crown.

In Antigone, we see a complete U-turn of Creon’s behavior and personality. Once the intelligent right-hand man to the throne, he is now on the throne and far from intelligent. The first on a long list of rather disagreeable decisions made by Creon is when he forbids the city of Thebes from burying Polyneices, but allows them to bury his brother, Eteocles. Creon keeps his cool at this time, even though his decision is morally wrong. The Gods mandate that every body be properly buried, lest their soul not rest in the Underworld. Creon takes his first bite of power when he goes against the Gods. Creon then goes on to give a lengthy speech basically about how great he is as king, a subtle showing of egotism. After a sentry informs Creon that Polyneices’ body has been touched, Creon finally blows his top off, “Enough! You make me furious with such senile doddering remarks./ It’s quite insufferable./ You really think they give a damn, the gods, about this corpse?/ Next you’ll say they make it a priority to bury him in state, and thank him for his burning down their altars, sacking shrines, scouting laws, and raping all the land./ Or are the gods these days considerate to criminals?” (pg. 203) This hardly seems like the Creon the audience all knew and loved. Where he once was considerate for others’ well-beings and showed reverence for the Gods, he is now condemning a dead man and belittling the very Gods he once respected. This personality upheaval also unearths another controversial aspect of Creon.

Mirroring the thoughts of the Ancient Greek society at the time, Creon has become blatantly sexist. When he finds out he has been defied as king, he immediately jumps to the conclusion that it was a man that disobeyed his edict. He never takes into consideration that a woman might have defied him. He even says, “Let us then defend authority/ and not be ousted by a girl./ If yield we must, then let it be to men,/ and never have it said we were worsted by a woman.” (pg. 221) Creon is saying that it’s ok to be defeated, as long as it is by a man and not a woman. Creon displays sexism at its worst. He even goes so far as to say, when Ismene objects to killing his own son’s bride, Antigone, “Let him sow his seed in other furrows.” (pg. 217) Creon could care less who his son marries. Here he objectifies women as tools for reproduction. The utter disregard for his son’s love of Antigone and the anger he feels after having his own law disobeyed has, by this point in the text, pushed him into total stubbornness.

Creon explodes on all those who try to help him, especially his son, Haemon, and the blind prophet, Tiresias. Both at first are on Creon’s side, trying to help him. After being rebuked by Creon, though, they both are against him. Haemon first approaches, knowing his own father has sentenced his bride-to-be to death, and says he is always on Creon’s side. The current situation, however, warrants Haemon’s own opinion. He tells Creon that his actions are wrong. Creon is at first delighted that his son has pledged allegiance to him, but seemingly experiences a mood swing after Haemon tells him his verdict his wrong, “Do I rule this state, or someone else?” (pg. 223) This stubbornness is all a result from Creon’s power as king. He has arrived at the point where he believes he is right, simply because of his might. He goes on to not only argue with Haemon, but insult him, “Insolent pup! A woman’s lackey!” (pg. 224) Later, when Tiresias enters, he too is turned upon by Creon. Creon respects Tiresias but loses that respect once Tiresias tells Creon of his wrongdoing, “Old, man,/ you pot away at me like all the rest/ as if I were a bull’s-eye,/ And now you aim your seer craft at me./ Well, I’m sick of being bought and sold/ by all your soothsaying tribe.” (pg. 237) Suddenly, Tiresias’ great prophecies are now petty seer craft, all because he defied Creon. He also calls all prophets “a money-grubbing race.” (pg. 238) Every flaw, every choice, every pain of Creon was a result of power corrupting his logical way of thinking.

Power is a dangerous thing. It can, as has been shown in the Oedipus Plays of Sophocles, the most respectable, model person into a stubborn, obnoxious ruler. Creon, only after losing everything he held dear because of his choices, finally saw the error of his ways. Power is like a poison, slowly contaminating a man until it consumes him. It becomes his only desire, clouding his judgment and the way he sees the world. Too many have fallen for power’s siren call, among those few, Napoleon and Creon. Both used power as an instrument to weave symphonies during their reign. Both also hit a wrong note.