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The Aoidai
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3.31.2002
11:50 PM | Link
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I was surprised when I found this college paper recently that I wrote for a Classical Culture class. It's a little play in the style of Greek Tragedy (complete with verse-speaking chorus) that reads like a Twilight Zone episode (with a cameo from Aristotle, no less). You'll enjoy this more if you're familiar with the plays and the style, but I think it's fun regardless of your background. By the way, "aoidai" is Greek for "playwrights".
Cast of Characters
Eponymous Archon
Watchman of Argos, who saw the signal fires after the fall of Troy
Herdsman of Thebes, who gave away the infant Oedipus
First Child, slain by Medea
Second Child, slain by Medea
Aristotle
Chorus of Greek Playwrights
Citizens of Athens and Elsewhere, silent parts
The Theater of Dionysus at Athens, during the Great Dionysia Festival. A soldier, shepherd, and two children stand at the rear of the stage. The citizens in the Theater are filled with fear and attempt to leave their seats. The Eponymous Archon stands center stage and speaks.
ArchonMy good citizens! People of Athens and many other lands, I implore you! Please remain where you are and see what is to pass.
I was as shocked as the weakest of you when the storm clouds suddenly appeared. Did I not also cry out as the thunder rolled and the very earth seemed to open? My fears joined all of yours as the commotion ceased and I saw our "guests" standing here before us all. Yet I will not run from the unknown and neither should you. Without a doubt, the gods are working here. The power we have witnessed is undeniable. We must stay and see what wisdom will be revealed, whether we laugh or cry. The crowd returns to their seats. The Chorus of Greek Playwrights enters and moves slowly around those on stage, keeping their distance.
ChorusWithout warning you came
In a tumultuous roar of quaking earth and thunder.
You four, without name,
Who have torn our competition asunder.
Why, in such a specific time,
Have you arrived while we are gathered today?
We, who work in meter and rhyme,
Wonder what you will say.
Watchman, Herdsman, Child and Child,
Will your words be harsh or mild?
A soldier, boldly you stand,
And look upon us with your unblinking eyes of fire.
Argos would seem to be your land.
What could be your just or evil desire?
A simple shepherd, staff by your side,
Your aged energy spent in your intent stare.
What thought within could you hide
As our eyes meet your disturbing glare?
Two children with unblemished flesh,
You should be playing or learning lessons true.
Yet maturity has replaced what was fresh.
We fear what discourse will come from you.
Watchman, Herdsman, Child and Child,
Will your words be harsh or mild?
Though we are unsure if the future is bleak,
We ask you who stand before us, speak. The Watchman advances towards the Chorus and speaks.
WatchmanLong have I thought of this time. Long have I wondered what you would look like. You, who have chosen to govern the lives of men as if you were the gods themselves! Let me be the first to tell you, your appearance does not represent the power you hold. ChorusWhat power do you speak of? Surely one of power would be able to discern who you are. WatchmanBy Olympus! You have designed our very lives and yet do not recognize us? ChorusWe do not. WatchmanO shame! What could be more disgraceful than to be unknown by your creators, even if they are as cold as you who stand before me? I shall tell you who we are and our purpose here, and may you shudder to hear our stories! HerdsmanTell them now! First ChildYes, quickly! WatchmanWe four are the reality of the tragedies you have written. You poets, for the sake of entertainment and vain honor, have set down our lives in a most sorrowful way. Through many prayers and offerings the gods have seen fit to give us substance and voice that we may demand justice! ChorusCan this be? We cannot believe such miraculous talk! WatchmanYes, my makers, we are truly real. And now, since you seem to have forgotten your crimes against us, we will remind you of our suffering! ChorusWe will listen in amazement! WatchmanYou have discerned by my armor that I am a soldier of Argos. It was I who stood watch night after night, left only to my dark and despairing thoughts, by command of Queen Clytemnestra. I was to look to the horizon for news from distant Troy, by way of signal fires she herself had designed.
One evening I stood, wondering if my duty would ever end, when I saw a flame in the distance at long last! My heart leapt for joy! My King Agamemnon was coming home in victory! I longed to tell the Queen immediately, though for some reason I could not fully trust her. I was soon to find out my suspicions were true!
Tragic news travels quickly. Soon I knew that Clytemnestra had killed my King and his Trojan mistress! O, the pain I did feel at that moment! To know that I was the herald that announced his coming! I informed the Queen of his return, only so she could begin her foul plan to end his life! Do you not see how the blame has fallen on me? O, how I wish my suspicions would have led me to somehow warn the King!
I have lived long with this grief. I am a faithful and just soldier, and not deserving of this torment! Yet you have inflicted this pain upon me! You have written this suffering into my very life! Is there justice in what you have done? ChorusWonder and amazement!
Your words have pierced into our minds!
This news is so unusual,
So strange and unexpected,
Could we have been so unkind?
Your tale is certainly true.
We now remember the plot well.
But we did not write your feelings or moments
After Agamemnon's knell.
It's so difficult to understand
The authority of our hands!
We do sympathize with you.
We see your wounds are deep.
But surely we did not
Realize our terrible deed!
We have not lost any sleep!
It's so difficult to understand
The authority of our hands! WatchmanYou deny what you have done? ChorusWe are unsure! WatchmanHave you written my life? ChorusOnly as history has told us. WatchmanBut you control history! You have rule over minor events! Could not the dreaded Clytemnestra herself have seen the fires from her chamber window? ChorusPerhaps. WatchmanAnd I would be spared this guilt! ChorusBut we had no ill intention! We speak the truth! WatchmanOutrage! What do you who are heartless know of truth! I will hear no more. Listen now to the tears of another. The Watchman steps back as the Herdsman approaches the Chorus.
HerdsmanThe withered hand of Time has touched my body with age. Without a doubt, I am old and many years have taken their toll on me. Yet I tell you that the wrinkles in my face are canals carved by tears of grief! My tunic is stained not with dust, but bitter lamentation.
In my youth, I was raised in the house of King Laius, the most noble of men. His other servants taught me the ways of the flocks, and being one preferring a quiet life, I soon became a shepherd of Cithaeron. I wouldn't say I was better or worse than the King's other men, but Laius did encourage me often and made known his trust in me. I yearn that I might have been thought criminal instead! ChorusWhy would you desire dishonor? HerdsmanFor this trust extended to the handing over of his newborn son! An oracle was known that this boy would kill King Laius, as I was told by Queen Jocasta as she gave the infant to me. She instructed me to leave the boy to die, and I agreed. Yet, my fragile emotions were soon to have other plans.
My heart cried out louder than the babe as I pierced his tiny ankles! I could not bear to leave such innocent life on the hillside to die! I sat and wondered what to do.
Soon, another herdsman who I had met many times before passed by. Instantly I begged him to take the child, knowing he could grow and live a full life in other country. As my friend left with the boy, I felt much relieved. But o, what a day of deception that was!
Years later, when I looked as you see me now, I had to confront that infant as a man. I was forced to tell of my betrayal of the Royal Family who loved me. I saw the pain in the Queen's eyes as she she realized what I had done! Yes, I stood before Oedipus, full of anguish, and he knew that I could have prevented his misery! How could you men of dominion, profane though you are, have given such a life to a simple herdsman? What have you involved me in such a dreadful story? ChorusAnother familiar tale, that is certain.
Many times has it crossed our stage.
Yet let us examine the meaning of guilt
And perhaps calm your rage.
Oedipus, of whom you speak,
Was neither foolish nor extremely weak.
Vile incest and patricide,
Surely crimes from which to hide,
Yet Oedipus had no evil mind.
He never knew he was unkind.
You, who feel you are at fault,
And talk now to us in rash assault,
Must know that you are good at heart.
No sinful motive from the start.
Pity, though its outcome base,
Should not bring remorse to your face.
Lastly we, those you accuse,
Did not purposely our talent use
To shame a single one of you!
It is against our will to do!
Without knowing your reality,
There is no guilt that we can see.
How can you blame us, old man?
Though still we are shocked, we must defend
Ourselves from your judgment.
Our minds will not bend! HerdsmanWhat unrighteousness do I hear! How can I listen as your try to justify what you have done to us? My companions, I fear this journey has only brought us more pain! WatchmanThe children have not yet spoken. Perhaps they will bring affliction to our designers' minds. HerdsmanCome forth, little ones. The Herdsman steps back as the Children approach the Chorus.
First ChildWhy have you been so cruel to us? We lived a happy childhood with games and laughter, and you took that away from us! Youth holds no joy for us now! Second ChildHow could you have done this? We, who were capable of no harm, were used as instruments of death by our wicked mother! And after that, you left us with no more days to atone for our deeds! ChorusWhat can you mean by this? First ChildBy our own flesh and blood we were slain! The Children quickly pull back their tunics to reveal wounds to their hearts.
ChorusBe merciful, Great Zeus! First ChildWe can see from your expressions that you know who we are. Our mother was Medea of Colchis, who deeply loved our father Jason. You should remember how our mother was wronged when he sought to marry the daughter of the King of Corinth. Second ChildSo angry was our mother that murder entered her thoughts! Her ways of sorcery enabled her to poison a woven dress and golden diadem, and we were made to deliver them! Weapons of darkness! First ChildThe King and his daughter died horrible deaths. Not even our great grandfather Helius could have saved them. But we never had a chance to cry for them! Second ChildMother, with eyes of fire, cut us down and stole our bodies away! O, the fright of that day! The Children begin to cry.
ChorusWeep for the children.
Can you hear their cries?
Weep for those unwept for!
Those who sadly died.
Your torture is so very profound.
What could be more terrifying
Than the hand that calmed your infants sounds
Restoring mournful crying?
Weep for the children.
Truly they have done no wrong.
Yet tears are their instrument!
Tribulation is their song!
You have persuaded us to mourn.
You have persuaded us to grieve.
We have caused great harm to many.
Grant us no reprieve. WatchmanYou admit your crimes? ChorusWe never fully denied them. We only misunderstood them. HerdsmanYou now see our pain? ChorusIndeed, we also feel it. WatchmanJustice prevails! Listen now to what is required! HerdsmanHear the decree! Second ChildYes, listen! WatchmanNo longer will you write these tragedies and thus heap sorrows upon innocent men. You will learn new trades, and never again... Suddenly, there is a murmur in the audience, as Aristotle leaves his seat and makes his way to the stage.
AristotleYou will be silent! WatchmanBy whose command? AristotleA citizen of Athens, and a man, both of whom benefit from tragedy! ChorusSpeak to them, Aristotle! Have you an answer to this conflict? AristotleIndeed I do, for I know the purpose of these plays.
These tragedies are a form of imitation that men take great pleasure in seeing. Although these are imitations of sorrowful events, this is right, for in viewing pity and fear, written by our playwrights and experienced by you, our characters, man is purged of these harmful emotions that he will not be plagued by them to an extreme.
My sad people, take comfort in knowing that your lives have brought generations of people true favor! You have restored to them peace and reason through your suffering. You will be long remembered.
I call upon you, dear playwrights, to continue to honor the gods and Athens by your work. Let us proceed with the Dionysia! People of our plays, return from whence you came! The Watchman, Herdsman, and Children slowly disappear as the Chorus gathers around Aristotle center stage.
ChorusWe are grateful to you, man of wisdom! You have saved our festival, our occupation, and our tradition from a bitter end. May you live in moderation and die content! Now let us thank the gods of high Olympus!
Dionysus, you have satisfied
Each man's heart and mind
With this, your festival.
Athena, you have pleased
Each citizen with ease
With this, your city.
Zeus, you have blessed
Each resident and guest
With this, your will. ExeuntLabels: papers
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Cartesian Dialogue
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2.28.2002
11:58 PM | Link
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I had to write a two-page paper for my ACC Philosophy class, just to show that understood at least one concept. I wrote an imaginary discussion between Descartes and Sir Walter Raleigh, just to have some bizarre fun.
Soon after Sir Walter Raleigh helped introduce the use of smoking tobacco to England after returning from Virginia, he offered a wager to Queen Elizabeth that he could weigh the smoke produced by her pipe during a given time. This dialogue places Raleigh and Descartes in the same place and time, and offers a fanciful inspiration for that famous bet.
RaleighAh, Rene - so good to see you. Have you decided if I exist yet? DescartesHello, Walter - I'm afraid not. I've only just completed my Second Meditation, so I am far from knowing if anything exists, save myself. Real or not, I'm eager to talk to you, however, and share what I have discovered about true perception. RaleighPerception? I assume you refer to that which we know by the senses, such as the aromatic smell from this fine tobacco I'm smoking. Even the Queen is smoking now! DescartesLet's discuss smoking later, Walter. Actually, I believe the senses have nothing to do with true perception. RaleighHow can that be? Explain, Rene. DescartesAs I was busy in contemplation, I performed an interesting experiment with a piece of beeswax. It was still sweet with honey and smelling of flowers. I could see its size and color. It made a sound when struck. In short, all of my senses told me plainly this was a piece of wax. RaleighOf course, perception comes from the senses. DescartesLet me finish - I then heated the wax until it melted. Now the smell was gone and the taste indistinct. Obviously the size and shape had changed, as the wax was now liquid. All of my senses then told me the substance was something entirely different from what I before called "wax". RaleighYes, but we all know that solid wax melts into liquid wax. DescartesBut do my senses tell me this? If I had no previous knowledge of wax, and was presented on separate occasions with solid and liquid wax, would I know they are the same thing? RaleighI suppose not. DescartesSo the senses did not give me this knowledge. Yet, I understand without a doubt that the solid wax I held previously was indeed now liquid wax. You see, it is the mind that perceives, not the senses. The mind knows clearly and distinctly that both substances are wax - this is a clear and distinct mental perception. RaleighQuite interesting. The mind perceives alone, without aid of the senses, for in this case sensory perception would be incorrect. DescartesI think you're having a clear and distinct perception right now, Walter! I have my manuscript right here, if I may quote: "...what must particularly be observed is that its perception is neither an act of vision, nor of touch, nor of imagination, and has never been such although it may have appeared formerly to be so, but only an intuition of the mind, which may be imperfect and confused as it was formerly, or clear and distinct as it is at present, according as my attention is more or less directed to the elements which are found in it, and of which it is composed." RaleighWell spoken, Rene. Shall we conduct a similar experiment now? DescartesCertainly! I have no doubt you will consider tobacco your subject. RaleighWhat else? Actually, I think we can recreate your argument easily. DescartesPlease continue, Walter. RaleighWhat do the senses tell us about tobacco? I have some fresh leaves in my pouch right here. Ah, they smell as fresh as Virginia. They are pliable to the touch, have a wonderful ruddy brown color, and ever so quietly crackle as I pinch them near my ear. So initially, this is what the senses call "tobacco". DescartesYes, but what happens when you smoke it? RaleighWell, let's examine what remains here in the bowl of my pipe. What do the senses tell me now? This substance smells of ash, though a lingering aroma of the tobacco remains. The touch is similar to sand - not at all like the fresh leaves before. The color is black and gray, and this dust makes no sound at all when pinched. DescartesSo, considering the senses alone, could these two entirely different substances be perceived as the same? RaleighNot at all. However - let me make sure I get this right, Rene - I do have a clear and distinct mental perception that the tobacco leaves and the ash are in fact the same thing, although my senses tell me otherwise. DescartesExactly - which demonstrates that the nature of true perception is mental. In your mind, you perceive the truth clearly and distinctly! But there is an interesting addition to your version of the experiment, Walter. RaleighWhat would that be? DescartesIn melting the wax, the senses would show that the solid and liquid wax remained at approximately the same weight. Yet I would say that the ash in your pipe weighs less than the weight of your tobacco leaves. RaleighWonderful! Yet another way the senses would have us perceive that the leaves and the ash are different substances, when we mentally perceive they are the same. DescartesSo, if the weight of the ash is subtracted from the weight of the tobacco before smoking, what remains? RaleighThe weight that has been lost in the smoking. But how could that weight have been lost? DescartesWhat is produced is the burning of the tobacco into ash? RaleighWhy, the smoke, of course. Enough to fill a room, usually. DescartesSo, perhaps the missing weight could be... RaleighThe weight of the smoke! DescartesNo need to jump to conclusions, Walter. I'm not sure we can truly make that conclusion - it's quite outside of the argument I'm making... RaleighYes, but I can make that conclusion! DescartesWould you say you have a clear and distinct mental perception of this assumption? RaleighWho cares? Listen, I was just on my way to enjoy smoking with Queen Elizabeth and her courtiers, and I'm sure they would make the same conclusion. In fact, I'll wager on it! DescartesBut Walter, you understand this wasn't really the point of our discussion. RaleighYes, yes. But our discussion is over - I'm afraid I have to go. Tell me, what will you do next? DescartesI plan to prove the existence of God. RaleighI'd much rather prove that the Queen pays off a lost bet. Labels: papers
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