Odysseus and Neoptolemus

Philoctetes is the most ethically complex of all Sophocles' plays. Philoctetes, Odysseus and the background figure of Achilles present various paradigms for the young Neoptolemus, who must decide in the course of the play which, if any, to adopt as his model. Philoctetes and Odysseus are both endowed with established convictions, but Neoptolemus' moral character is still in the process of formation. Moral argument and choice take on a peculiarly dynamic role in the plot as we see him exposed to the influence of each of the two older men in turn.

Odysseus has come to Lemnos to steal Philoctetes' invincible bow, which, according to the oracle of Helenus, is necessary for Greek success at Troy. But he knows that Philoctetes hates him bitterly (75f.), so his plan requires the cooperation of Neoptolemus. Odysseus characterises the scheme as a joint one (25), but also makes his own controlling role quite clear. Neoptolemus is to serve (15), and to listen while Odysseus explains his plan (24f.). The young man's task is to exploit deceitfully the trust and friendship that may be expected to develop between him and Philoctetes when the latter discovers that he is Achilles' son (cf. 57, 7of., 242).

Tragedy and ethics

According to Aristotle, character or ethos in tragedy is ‘that which reveals what the moral choice is like’ (Po. 50b8f.). Although I did not come to this study by way of Aristotle, this kind of ethos is what I wish to explore in Sophocles, by examining five tragedies in which moral choice is central to the course of the drama. These choices are made within the context of traditional Greek morality, which, amongst other things, expected one to help one's friends and harm one's enemies (abbreviated hereafter as ‘Help Friends/Harm Enemies’ or ‘Help Friends’ and ‘Harm Enemies’). Closely allied to these principles, as we shall see, is the conception of justice as retaliation. I have chosen to focus my discussion around this nexus of principles, since they provide a pervasive ethical background to most of Greek literature and are of special significance for tragedy. They are also connected with broader ethical questions, such as the nature of pleasure and advantage. In particular, both Help Friends/Harm Enemies and retaliatory justice are rooted in passion, and therefore raise profound questions about the rationality of moral action and the relationship of moral justification to the emotions. In the next chapter I shall outline the salient features of Help Friends/Harm Enemies, in order to illustrate its scope as a moral code and provide a context in which to assess Sophocles' handling of such issues.

Ajax and his enemies

The opening lines of Ajax are spoken by the goddess Athena, who addresses her favourite, Odysseus, as an adherent of Harm Enemies: he is tracking down an enemy as usual, in a manner worthy of his traditionally tricky persona (1–8). She is the dearest of gods to him, and they enjoy a solidarity inherited from the Odyssey (14–19). He places himself in her hands, as he has always done in the past (34f.). But despite the bond between them, a conflict of values emerges.

Oedipus, friendship and enmity

The twin principles Help Friends and Harm Enemies are fundamental to the structure of Oedipus at Colonus. At the outset Oedipus reveals Apollo's prophecy which he wishes to fulfil, and whose fulfilment will constitute the action of the play. He is to find rest at Athens, ‘bringing profit by dwelling here to those who welcomed me, but doom to those who sent me away, driving me out’ (92f). The dual theme is restated more explicitly when he tells the chorus that if they help him they will gain ‘a great saviour for this city, and troubles for my enemies’ (459f.). For the first 700 lines of the play, until Creon arrives, Oedipus' two-edged hopes and emerging power to implement them are constantly stressed. He shows his benign aspect to the Athenians, to whom he promises soteria and benefits if they help him (72, 287f., 576–8, 642; cf. 462f., 487). The arrival of Ismene shows his love for his daughters (324–33), and through her message his power over Thebes is revealed (389f., 402). It gradually emerges how he intends to use that power, and the scene culminates in a curse on his sons and a prayer that he may indeed have the control over their fate which the oracle has promised him (421–4).

Helping friends and harming enemies

Electra presents us with a world in which Help Friends/Harm Enemies remains unquestioned. In the prologue Orestes announces his intention ‘to shine out like a star against my enemies’ (66), and when he reappears, declares that he will stop his laughing enemies in their tracks (1295). Electra expresses similar sentiments (453–6, 979f.), and makes loyalty to friends a cardinal principle (345f., 367f., 395). Like Orestes, she assumes that their enemies are indulging in hostile mockery (277, 807, 1153). Clytemnestra prays that if her dream is hostile it may recoil on her enemies, and that she may enjoy prosperity with her present friends (647, 652f.). The chorus console Electra with the assurance that Orestes is ‘noble (esthlos), so as to help his friends’ (322), and their general approval of Electra's values is clear from their praise and sympathy. When they advise her to moderate her hatred, they are thinking of her welfare, and add that she should not forget it entirely (177f.).

I have tried to bring out the richness and complexity of the ethical fabric of Sophocles' plays. Moral issues are not merely motifs, but inform the dramatic structure, and are developed with care and subtlety on the linguistic level. A multiplicity of ethical standpoints is presented in such a way that their implications and practical results are dramatised through choice and argument. Although our sympathies are used to guide us towards approval of some characters and condemnation of others, there is no simple correlation between sympathy and approval. While it may be true that an obviously unpleasant character tends to express sentiments contrary to conventional Athenian values, these plays are not melodramas in which only the virtuous command our sympathy and the villains our distaste. The tragic force of a character such as Polyneices in Oedipus at Colonus is generated precisely by our complex response of pity and disapproval.

Helping friends and harming enemies

Greek popular thought is pervaded by the assumption that one should help one's friends and harm one's enemies. These fundamental principles surface continually from Homer onwards and survive well into the Roman period, and indeed to the present day, especially in international relations. They are firmly based on observation of human nature, which yields the conclusion that most human beings do in fact desire to help their friends and harm their enemies, and derive satisfaction from such behaviour. Thus Xenophon's Socrates can count benefiting friends and defeating enemies as one of the things which bring ‘greatest pleasures’ (Mem. 4.5.10).

Friendship, and the desire to help our friends and protect them from hostility, may seem to us as to the Greeks both natural and pleasant. But unlike most of us, they realistically acknowledged that it is also human to be pained by our enemies' success and take pleasure in their downfall. When people see an enemy's dogs or horses admired, says Plutarch, they feel pain; if his land is well worked or his garden flourishing, they groan (Mor. 88b).

Anyone who ventures a further contribution to the current profusion of Sophoclean criticism must do so with due humility, trusting that the inexhaustible richness of the original plays justifies such imprudence. It is not my intention to add to the many general books on Sophocles that have appeared in recent years. But I believe there remains a place for a work of more limited scope on the ethical content of his plays. As Schadewaldt well expressed it in a related context, ‘However polyphonous the symphony may be, it aids understanding and need not detract from the whole if one pays attention to the basic themes and makes some of them audible.’ I have pursued some of these basic themes in five tragedies, omitting the two to which they are less central. Since I have no chronological axes to grind, the plays are treated in the most generally accepted order.

In the hope that the book will find some readers other than classicists, I have kept Greek out of the text, with the exception of certain words whose full significance might otherwise be lost, which I have transliterated. These are translated or explained at their first occurrence and are listed in a glossary at the beginning of the book. Greek has been used sparingly in the footnotes for textual or linguistic points. All translations are my own unless otherwise indicated, and are designed to be functional rather than elegant. I have used Pearson's Oxford Classical Text except where otherwise specified.