The question of the foreigner, especially as elaborated by Jacques Derrida in the first of his two essays Of Hospitality, is at the heart of Aeschylus’ Suppliants, a play in which the fifty daughters of the Egyptian king Danaus appeal to the Argive king Pelasgus for asylum. Indeed, Aeschylus structures much of the initial encounter between the Danaids and Pelasgus in the interrogatory mode: as an exchange of questions to the foreigner, of the foreigner. Beginning with queries about identity, (...) the play moves quickly to pose questions about authority, ultimately running aground upon Pelasgus’ inability to decide what to do about these Egyptian-Argive women whose demands for hospitality threaten his control over the city. Where previous scholarship on the play has focused on its representation of foreignness or its introduction of democratic rule, a close reading in light of Derrida’s work on hospitality elaborates the important relationship between hospitality and democratic sovereignty that the play develops. For the real question of the foreigner asks how the people can wield power in a city; in response, the play imagines the origins of democracy as an act of civic hospitality or metoikia. (shrink)

The term dikē has a wide range of meanings in tragic poetry. However, we could identify two distinctively or predominantly Euripidean trends that are closely associated with the use of dikē and are actually interdependent. Heracleidae, Suppliants, and Phoenissae are good test-cases in that regard. Whilst the plays bear strong resemblances to Aeschylean and secondarily Sophoclean dramas, the treatment of dikē is differentiated. 1) By contrast with Aeschylus and secondarily Sophocles, dikē in these Euripidean plays is viewed in connection (...) to socio-political values and institutions that are essentially humanly constructed. The focus is shifted to the nature and role of these human conventions and the way in which they interact with deeply-rooted, traditional patterns of conduct. The plays explore the difficulties, complications or failures that can arise in practice, in the frame of the quest for dikē. 2) Despite the occasionally strong individualization and interest in characterization, Euripides focuses on the consequences of the disturbance of dikē for the community as well as on the difficulties involved in the execution of dikē, rather than the rigid, and somewhat abstract, demand for the execution of dikē itself. Individual actions of doubtful justification are largely viewed and assessed in the light of their consequences for the polis. A major, pertinent issue is both the necessity and the limitations of vengeance or punishment, both on an individual and on a collective scale. (shrink)

To explain the meaning of the Prometheus the late Dr. Walter Headlam quoted the famous lines from theAgamemnon:‘ Sing praise; ’Tis he hath guided, say, Man's feet in Wisdom's way, Stablishing fast for learning's rule That Suffering be her school….’ ‘This,’ he said, ‘is the school in which Prometheus himself is being gradually taught the wise humility; at present he is still in the rebellious stage. And it is with this idea that Io is introduced into the Prometheus Bound; she, (...) too, is an example of the seeming cruelty of Zeus; but it is a blessing in disguise, for she is to be the mother of the blessed Epaphus, and it is a son of Zeus by Alcmena, a descendant of her own, that is to set Prometheus free.’. (shrink)

To explain the meaning of the Prometheus the late Dr. Walter Headlam quoted the famous lines from theAgamemnon:‘ Sing praise; ’Tis he hath guided, say, Man's feet in Wisdom's way, Stablishing fast for learning's rule That Suffering be her school….’ ‘This,’ he said, ‘is the school in which Prometheus himself is being gradually taught the wise humility; at present he is still in the rebellious stage. And it is with this idea that Io is introduced into the Prometheus Bound; she, (...) too, is an example of the seeming cruelty of Zeus; but it is a blessing in disguise, for she is to be the mother of the blessed Epaphus, and it is a son of Zeus by Alcmena, a descendant of her own, that is to set Prometheus free.’. (shrink)

The article aims to analyze the gift of hospitality within the broader issue of social justice on a global scale. In order to achieve this theoretical goal, the article will first focus on the violent effects produced by the so called immunization processes triggered by the international migrations and the growing number of asylum seekers. The paper analyzes the western history of right to asylum, starting from its ancient roots dating back to Aeschylus' tragedy The Suppliants. The article will (...) briefly analyze the modern history of international migrations and, then, it will shed light on the conceptual, juridical and political problems concerning the nowadays international right to asylum. The last part will deal with the theoretical attempt to treat the political gift par excellence, that one of hospitality, as one of the basic issues of social justice in a global era. [Publishers' text]. (shrink)

To Professor E. R. Dodds, through his edition of Euripides'Bacchaeand again inThe Greeks and the Irrational, we owe an awareness of new possibilities in our understanding of Greek literature and of the world that produced it. No small part of that awareness was due to Professor Dodds' masterly and tactful use of comparative ethnographic material to throw light on the relation between literature and social institutions in ancient Greece. It is in the hope that something of my own debt to (...) him may be conveyed that this paper is offered here, equally in gratitude, admiration and affection.The working out of the anger of Achilles in theIliadbegins with a great scene of divine supplication in which Thetis prevails upon Zeus to change the course of things before Troy in order to restore honour to Achilles; it ends with another, human act in which Priam supplicates Achilles to abandon his vengeful treatment of the dead body of Hector and restore it for a ransom. The first half of theOdysseyhinges about another supplication scene of crucial significance, Odysseus' supplication of Arete and Alkinoos on Scherie. Aeschylus and Euripides both wrote plays called simplySuppliants, and two cases of a breach of the rights of suppliants, the cases of the coup of Kylon and that of Pausanias, the one dating from the mid-sixth century, the other from around 470 B.C. or soon after, played a dominant role in the diplomatic propaganda of the Spartans and Athenians on the eve of the Peloponnesian War. (shrink)

In postwar Western culture, the myth of Antigone has been the subject of noted literary, literary-critical, dramatic, philosophical, and philological treatments, not least due to the strong influence of one of the key plays of the twentieth century, Jean Anouilh’s Antigone. The rich discussion of the myth has often dealt with its most famous formulation, Sophocles’ Antigone, but has paid less attention to the broader ancient context; the epic sources (the Iliad, Odyssey, Thebaid, and Oedipodea); the other tragic versions (Aeschylus’s (...) Seven Against Thebes and his lost Eleusinians; Euripides’s Suppliants, Phoenician Women, and Antigone, of which only a few short fragments have been preserved); and the responses of late antiquity. This paper analyses the basic features of this nearly thousand-year-long ancient tradition and shows how they connect in surprising ways – sometimes even more directly than Sophoclean tragedy does – with the main issues in some unique contemporary traditions of its reception (especially the Slovenian, Polish and Argentine ones): the question of burying the wartime (or postwar) dead and the ideal of reconciliation. (shrink)

For when men pray they do with the members of their bodies what befits suppliants—when they bend their knees and stretch out their hands, or even prostrate themselves, and whatever else they do visibly, although their invisible will and the intention of their heart is known to God. Nor does He need these signs for the human mind to be laid bare to Him. But in this way a man excites himself to pray more and to groan more humbly (...) and more fervently. I do not know how it is that, although these motions of the body cannot come to be without a motion of the mind preceding them, when they have been made, visibly and externally, that invisible inner motion which caused them is itself strengthened. And in this manner the disposition of the heart which preceded them in order that they might be made, grows stronger because they are made. Of course if someone is constrained or even bound, so that he cannot do these things with his limbs, it does not follow that, when he is stricken with remorse, the inner man does not pray and prostrate himself before the eyes of God in his most secret chamber.One smiles and tells the expert chef how good the sauce béarnaise is, not so much to inform him about the sauce as to assure him that we are enjoying it and that we appreciate his efforts. But when a man kneels in his pew and repeats a litany of thanksgiving it is not, it seems, that he means to be informing God of anything—not even of his thankfulness. For God, unlike the chef, has no need of information. (shrink)

Los versos 990-1008 de Suplicantes de Eurípides constituyen un verdadero locus desperatus: allí Evadne se presenta sobre la escena y expresa en versos líricos los sentimientos previos a su suicidio final. Ni la métrica sin responsio del pasaje, ni el texto evidentemente corrupto, ni la gramática inadecuada ayudan a comprender el sentido del pasaje. Tan así es que la mayoría de los editores ha renunciado a tratar de comprender el sentido de sus palabras. Sin embargo, creemos que la adecuada interpretación (...) de la metáfora utilizada por la esposa de Capaneo ayudará a la comprensión del pasaje: se trata de un priamel que se constituye en patético recordatorio del día de la boda por parte de una mujer que está a punto de suicidarse sobre la tumba de su esposo ya muerto. El fuego del rayo que mató a Capaneo, así como el fuego de la pira en donde arde ahora su cadáver (y en la que ella misma se arrojará muy pronto), le suscitan una serie de recuerdos de días mejores, vinculados todos ellos con el fuego y con la luz. La mención del carro del sol y de la luna, que constituye una metáfora casi cristalizada en la literatura griega, permite desarrollar de manera novedosa otra metáfora: las muchachas que, también ellas, cabalgan sobre la oscuridad portando sus antorchas. Evadne destaca la alegría que reinó el día de su boda, para que sea más agudo el contraste con el momento presente. The verses 990-1008 of Euripides’ Suppliants are a locus desperatus: Evadne there appears on the scene and expresses feelings in lyrical verse before his final suicide. Neither the passage’s metric without Responsio, or text clearly corrupt or improper grammar help make sense of the passage. So much so that most publishers have given up trying to understand the meaning of his words. However, we believe that the proper interpretation of the metaphor used by the wife of Capaneus help the understanding of the passage: it is one that constitutes priamel poignant reminder of the wedding day by a woman who is about to suicide on the grave of her husband already dead. The fire of lightning that killed Capaneus and fire burning pyre where his body is now (and which will throw herself very soon), will raise a number of memories of better days, all linked with the fire and light. The mention of the chariot of the sun and moon, which is a metaphor almost crystallized in Greek literature, enables a new way to develop another metaphor: the girls that they too ride on the dark carrying torches. Evadne highlights the joy that reigned on the day of her wedding, to be sharper contrast with the present moment. (shrink)

The music of Christoph Willibald von Gluck was a revolution for Paris operagoers when his work premiered there in 1774. In a setting known for its restive and often rowdy spectators, Alceste, Iphigénie en Aulide, and Orpheé et Eurydice seized audiences with unprecedented force. They shed silent tears or sobbed openly, and some cried out in sympathy with the sufferers onstage. “Oh Mama! This is too painful!” three girls called out as Charon led Alcestis to the underworld, and a boy (...) pleaded with his father to take him home. A woman who watched the same performance described falling on her knees in her opera-box as the march of the priests of Apollo began, staying in this position “suppliant and with my hands clasped until the end of the piece.”Gluck's streamlined musical language was one reason for these emotional responses. He and his librettist Ranieri de’ Calzabigi simplified the conventions by eliminating extraneous subplots, abandoning the repetitive da capo form, and replacing trills and runs with simpler melodies meant to convey passion. Another reason was the widespread culture of sentimentalism, which equated virtue with sincerity and judged tears to be the natural sign of an open heart. Painters depicted tender and tumultuous family scenes, and friends pledged trembling vows of fidelity. Listeners were also readers, and many described similar tearful responses when they read the century's bestseller, Rousseau's novel Julie; or, The New Heloise.Everist, a musicologist, takes up the story of Gluck in France in the nineteenth century, when the German composer remained a presence in repertoires. No longer prone to tears, the public was often indifferent and sometimes hostile to his works. Conductors and composers nevertheless persisted in promoting Gluck's music. Between 1828 and 1870, operatic excerpts appeared roughly twice a year in performances of the prestigious Société des Concerts, and the charismatic conductor Jules Pasdeloup regularly programmed his music. Many listeners remained unconvinced. A writer in 1861 described the “sepulchral boredom that reigned the length of all five acts” of Alceste. The periodical Monde dramatique used the same language to characterize Gluck's music: it was “profoundly boring.” After a high point of performances in the middle of Napoleon III's reign, Gluck disappeared from the Paris opera and concert stage for some thirty years.Everist's aim in this slim book is to isolate the “agents” involved in the French reception of Gluck. Traditional reception histories might begin with Gluck and his aims, identifying musical features, particular responses of audiences, critics’ accounts, and perhaps the more elusive temper of the times. Everist focuses instead on less conspicuous networks of impresarios, theater directors, and publishers. In his telling, such agents also include journalists and writers of fiction. The avowed effort is to decenter the artist and his art to emphasize the limited role that composers and librettists play in the performance of an opera. A quoted passage in the book reminds us that without parking attendants, stagehands, and ticket sellers the show could not go on. True enough. Genealogies of Music and Memory therefore provides tables listing Gluck arias in anthologies, particular singers’ performances, works by composers other than Gluck who also drew themes from classical antiquity, and works by other foreign-born composers. A section on “material culture” lists paintings and sculptures of Gluck in Paris theaters and museums.As a “genealogy,” the book is a salutary reminder of the web of amateurs and professionals who discuss, promote, and perform works that others have created. Writers such as E. T. A. Hoffmann, Mme de Staël, and Hippolyte Taine held up Gluck as the embodiment of German music. Hector Berlioz wrote frequently and enthusiastically about Gluck, although he was less keen to program his music. The singers François Delsarte and Pauline Viardot aroused temporary interest in Gluck by regularly including his arias in their recitals. Musical anthologies for the bourgeois household included piano arrangements of his best-known arias. Some nineteenth-century adaptations of his works were scored for the military band.Genealogies of Music and Memory is musicology with very little music. Everist's reliance on networks of actors, agents, publishers, pedagogical practices, and archival environments leads him to assert that “multiple agency is endemic in the story told here.” Unfortunately, it is often unclear just what the story is. Carelessness in writing and editing throughout—including a subject-verb clash in the book's final sentence—has rendered key passages obscure. Everist describes Delsarte's voice as feeble, broken, veiled, and ready to be extinguished twice in the same paragraph, first as a paraphrase and again in a quotation (with a misplaced comma).Decentering artists and their work to elevate others responsible for its reception brings attention to the unseen and often unsung. In the absence of particular performance histories, musical analyses and description, or sustained accounts of shared tastes or critical responses, however, conclusions remain piecemeal. Everist claims to have revealed a “Geertzian web of culture” in his study. A more modest account would describe it as an enumeration of references, revivals, editions, excerpts, and arrangements. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:FROM CAIN AND ABEL TO ESAU AND JACOB Angel Barahona UniversidadComplutense, Madrid The theme of twins or of enemy brothers is one which fascinates anthropologists owing to its frequency, the beauty of its mythopoetic settings, and its social significance. The theme always appears in relation to fratricidal violence, and is always linked to myths offoundation or origin. Clyde Kluckhohn in his book about brothers "born in immediate sequence" reminds (...) us that the death of one of them brings with it a momentary peace, the foundation ofa new social order. Thus it is not the fact ofbeing twins, or antagonistic brotherhood per se which is the key to the stories, but violence: Twins are impure in the same way that a warrior steeped in carnage is impure, or an incestuous couple, or a menstruating woman. All forms of violence lead back to violence. We overlook this fact because the primitive concept of a link between the loss ofdistinctions and violence is strange to us; butwe need only consider the calamities primitive people associate with twins to perceive the logic of this concept. Deadly epidemics can result from contact with twins, as can mysterious illnesses mat cause sterility in women and animals. Even more significant to us is the role oftwins in provoking discord among neighbors, a fatal collapse of ritual, the transgression of interdictions—in sort, their part in instigating asacrificial crisis....Behindthe image oftwins lurks the baleful aspectofthesacred, perceived as a disparate but formidableunified force. (Girard 1977, 58) All the mythological, literaryand historical accounts oftwinswhichwe have involve bloody conflict: Eteocles and Polyneices, Romulus and Remus, Richard the Lion Heart and John Lackland, and so on. To a 2 Angel Barahona surprising extent even the development of the different stories is similar. When Polynices departs from Thebes leaving his sister there, hoping to reign through her, he takes with him his fraternal conflict as if it were an attribute of his being. Wherever he goes his brother appears to him, and will oppose him to the death. When an oracle announced to Adrastrus that his two daughters would marry, respectively, a lion and a wild boar, animals which are different in their appearance but identical in their violence, it was presaging fraternal conflict. In Euripides' The Suppliant Women, the king tells how he came upon his sons-in-law. At his door, one night, Polynices and Tideus, both reduced to poverty, were quarreling furiously over possession ofa camp bed. Their brotherhood by virtue ofmarriage with two sisters brings them within the fraternalcategory, likeOedipus and Creon, orDionysus and Pentheus, rival cousins. A plot of land or a kingdom, a woman or an object, the status of firstborn or an unjust inheritance, all give pretexts for conflict. We cannot avoid conflict when desires converge on the same object. It is difficult for the brothers to be aware of their symmetry, their reciprocity, the intense violence which is hidden behind their brotherhood,—an awareness which might spare them their confrontations—because they never occupy the same positions atthe same time. The reciprocity is real, but it is the sum of non-reciprocal moments. The antagonists occupy the same positions in time, but successively, not simultaneously. The same acts and the same sentiments appear in cyclical alternation, but the brothers cannot directly observe their own reciprocity, and thus their identical nature, because they seem to be differentiated by the role which each one plays. Cain and Abel There are many stories ofconfrontations between brothers in Scripture, including those related to the rights of the first born. From Genesis 4,5 onwards we see how these are an interminable source ofconflicts. The first example, Cain and Abel: "And the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard. So Cain was very angry, and his countenance fell" anticipates the themes ofthe blessing and the looking at the face. And we can observe the games of symmetry with the language: "the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, but forCain and his offering he had no regard." Cain and Abel are presented as an agriculturalist and as a shepherd respectively, two forms ofsocial life. In this quarrel... (shrink)

The dramatic characters in the tragedies of Aeschylus tend to assert that their actions are in accordance with the law and prompted by necessity. Because these statements are often given to legitimise problematic actions, this paper argues that the rhetorical devices can convey the intentions and dispositions of the tragic heroes. Therefore, the „Septem“, the „Suppliants“ and the „Oresteia“ are analysed to show how Aeschylus makes use of rhetorical devices in order to enable the recipient to reach a fuller (...) understanding of the tragic heroes and the tragedies. (shrink)

ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δ’ ἤκουσε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·πεπτηὼς γὰρ ἔκειτο ὑπὸ θρόνον, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμαἕστο βοὸς νεόδαρτον, ἀλύσκων κῆρα μέλαιναν.So [Telemachus] spoke, and wise Medon heard him; for he had crouched down and was lying under a chair, and had wrapped around himself the newly flayed skin of an ox, avoiding grim death. (Od.22.361–3)Immediately following the death of the suitors, near the end ofOdyssey22, we witness three scenes of supplication in quick succession. The first and unsuccessful suppliant is Leodes, the (...) only suitor to survive, albeit briefly, theMnesterophonia. The second and third suppliants, respectively, are the bard Phemius and the herald Medon. Leodes pleads directly with Odysseus for his life, citing his previous conduct, that he had said or done no wrong to the women of the household. He also claims that he had actually attempted to keep the suitors' bad behaviour in check, an assertion corroborated by the narrator's own words (21.146–67). Odysseus rejects Leodes' plea and decapitates the prophet, putting a sudden end to his supplication (22.310–29). After this failed supplication, Phemius nervously considers either seeking refuge at the altar of Zeus Herkeios, located in Odysseus' courtyard, or directly supplicating Odysseus. He chooses the latter and also appeals to Telemachus as witness that he sang for the suitors only under compulsion (330–53). Telemachus intervenes and Medon, who overhears Telemachus' plea for mercy on behalf of Phemius and Medon, suddenly jumps up, throws off the ox hide under which he has escaped notice, grasps Telemachus by the knees, and asks the young man to vouch for and save him from Odysseus too (354–77). (shrink)

The belief that primitive men lived like beasts and that civilisation developed out of these brutal origins is found in numerous ancient authors, both Greek and Latin. It forms part of certain theories about the beginnings of culture current in late antiquity. These are notoriously difficult to trace to their sources, but they already existed in some form in the fifth century b.c. One idea common to these theories is that of progress, and for this reason a fragment of Xenophanes (...) is sometimes cited as their remote prototype: ‘The gods did not reveal all things to men from the beginning; instead, by seeking, men discover what is better in time’. Mainly on the strength of this fragment, Ludwig Edelstein devoted the first chapter of his book The Idea of Progress in Classical Antiquity to Xenophanes, and W. K. C. Guthrie has even declared that there is good reason to attribute to him a fuller account of progress, one that would include details found in later authors who speak of the early life of mankind. One of these details is the statement that the life of primitive men was ‘brutal’ or ‘beastlike’ . In these authors the implication of that term varies from ‘unschooled in the basic crafts’ to ‘inhumanly violent and bloodthirsty’. In one sense or the other it is repeatedly encountered in ancient references to this subject. Accounts of primitive brutishness which make use of the word θηριώδης (or θηριωδς can be found in the Suppliants of Euripides, in the Hippocratic treatise On Ancient Medicine, in three passages of Diodorus, one of which is thought by some to contain Democritean doctrine, in four passages of Isocrates, in a fragment from a satyr-play Sisyphus which the ancient sources attribute variously to Euripides and to Critias, in a fragment of Athenion, in a second-century inscription, in Plutarch, in Tatian, in Themistius, and in a scholion to Euripides. (shrink)