This play sounds like the voices of educated British schoolgirls in the beginning; I was a little surprised to find that Jean Anouilh was a French national. I suppose the difference between British and French is not so great, but somehow I always thought the cadences were different, to say nothing of the cadences of girls from Greece two thousand years ago. But this is written in English and it is ravishingly comprehensible and utterly contemporary.
What a joy is this play as written by Anouilh. The canny cunning of a young girl who makes an earth-shattering decision and refuses to be swayed is here in its entirety. Of course she is right, Antigone, taking the moral course, but none is as fierce in her determination, and none so brave. Antigone deflects and protects The Nurse and Ismene, and tries to do the same for poor, dead Polynices.
Did you notice Ismene describes Antigone as having a different kind of beauty: “…it’s always you that the little boys turn to look back at when they pass us in the street. And when you go by, the little girls stop talking, They stare and stare at you, until we’ve turned a corner.” This description captures that difference also between Lila and Lena in Elena Ferrante’s novel of Neapolitan Italy. Antigone is fatalistic, as is Lila.
The great wisdom Anouilh brings to this work is that melodrama works because one is never sure of the outcome, and the strength of the argument passes from one character to another, depending on circumstance. With tragedy on the other hand, the end is preordained, and therefore is calming. There is nothing to be done except play out the roles.
I especially liked what Anouilh did with the story of Eteocles and Polynices. I have no idea is this is part of the myth or something Anouilh added. I won’t spoil it for those of you who haven’t learned the myth yet, but this added to my sense of this whole thing as soap opera par excellence. Just as one thinks one has the characters pegged, up comes a new wrinkle that makes them out to be opportunists or really thoughtful and self-sacrificing beneath the visible outlines of their actions.
Gorgeous piece of work. Won’t finish the rest of the plays right now, I’m afraid. Bad timing.