Let every man in mankind's frailty
Consider his last day; and let none
Presume on his good fortune until he find
Life, at his death, a memory without pain.
—Choragos
Fate and the Hero in Oedipus Rex
My literature professor, Dr. Rhoda Sirlin, asked the class one
Saturday afternoon whether Oedipus was a victim of fate or of his
own actions. I ventured to say that maybe it was his destiny to
suffer, but Dr. Sirlin asked me to explain why Oedipus, in the act of
gouging his eyes out, cries explicitly:
No more, no more shall you look on the misery about me,
The horrors of my own doing! Too long you have known
The faces of those whom I should never have seen,
Too long blind to those for whom I was searching!
From this hour, go in darkness! (Sophocles 830)
Clearly, Dr. Sirlin pointed, Oedipus was aware that he alone was
responsible for his actions. Moreover, Dr. Sirlin also stressed the
fact that if Oedipus was not responsible for his actions, then he could
not be viewed as a tragic figure since he would be a mere puppet of
fate or the gods. I was not prepared to argue one so scholarly as the
professor, so I stayed silent. Roy, the loquacious spokesperson
of the class, and the professor then discussed Oedipus's explosive
temper whether it was a tragic flaw or not, as seen in what the
professor aptly called the earliest recorded incident of "road rage."
Dr. Sirlin believed that his volatile temper was one factor that
contributed to his downfall. I cannot remember now the salient points
of Roy's argument, but I do recall that I partook in the debate by
urging the class to look at Oedipus as a hero who was trying to assert
his rights, as a hero who was trying to defend his honor, when he
slew those who violated his right of way on that fateful day where the
three highways came together:
There were three highways
Coming together at a place I passed;
And there a herald came towards me, and a chariot
Drawn by horses, with a man such as you describe
Seated in it. The groom leading the horses
forced me off the road at his lord's command;
But as this charioteer lurched over toward me
I struck him in my rage. The old man saw me
And bought his double goad down upon my head
As I came abreast.
He was paid back, and more!
. . . I killed him. I killed them all. (Sophocles 819)
I tried to support my contention by repeating what my history
professor, Dr. Martin Pine, taught me about the hero: the hero prizes
above all else his honor and the excellence of his life. When his honor
is at stake, all other considerations become irrelevant. My argument,
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however, failed to sway Dr. Sirlin's opinion in my direction. She
concluded that Oedipus's inability to control his violent anger was a
tragic flaw or what the ancient Greeks called hubris. Two ideas kept
recurring in my mind as the class finally ended that afternoon: fate
and the hero. I knew instinctively that the thesis for my paper lay
buried in those two concepts. After much arduous searching and
sleepless nights reading, I now believe that fate victimized Oedipus,
but he was a tragic figure since he was not a puppet of fate or the
gods. Being a hero, he freely chose to pursue and accept his own
destruction.
I will first focus my attention to the ancient Greeks' idea of the
hero. The hero is a person who possesses superior qualities of mind
and body and who proves his superiority by doing great deeds of
valor, strength, or intellect. Oedipus was certainly a hero who was
exceptionally intelligent though one can argue that killing four men at
Phokis singlehandedly more than qualified him as a physical force to be
reckoned with. He undeniably knew his heroic status when he greeted
the supplicating citizens of Thebes before the palace doors saying: "I
would not have you speak through messengers, and therefore I have
come myself to hear you—I, Oedipus, who bear the famous name"
(Sophocles 801). The priest, speaking in behalf of the suffering
citizens of Thebes, recognizes Oedipus's heroic qualities when he
entreats him to save the city from the plague:
You are not one of the immortal gods, we know;
Yet we have come to you to make our prayer
As to the man of all men best in adversity
And wisest in the ways of the God. You saved us
From the Sphinx, that flinty singer, and the tribute
We paid to her so long; yet you were never
Better informed than we, nor could we teach you:
It was some god breathed in you to set us free. (Sophocles 802)
Donna Rosenberg, editor of World Mythology: An Anthology of the
Great Myths and Epics, states in her introduction to Greek mythology
that the hero "valued strength and skill, courage and determination,
for these attributes enabled the person who possessed them to achieve
glory and honor, both in his lifetime and after he died" (38). Glory
and honor were the most important goals of the hero, for these
guarantee him immortality. The hero, being blessed with superior
qualities of mind and body, loved to engage in battle, preferably with
another hero, since combat gave him the best chance to demonstrate
his excellence. D. Brendan Nagle, author of The Ancient World: A
Social and Cultural History, contends that the hero was always
belligerent because he regarded combat as the "ultimate test of
human valor, strength, and ability" (91). Victory in battle, according
to Nagle, justified his eminent position in his community (91). Both
Rosenberg and Nagle agree that death was the inevitable and final
fate of the hero. The hero, Rosenberg acknowledges, "never forgot
that death was inevitably his ultimate fate" (38). Death was the sine
qua non of a hero's life since how he died was a "vindication" of what
he stood for in life; death would not take the hero in some "trivial
accident," but at "the precise moment" destiny has assigned for his
"exit" (Nagle 92). Yet, the hero never questioned his fate. He
accepted his destiny by directing his energies to those aspects in his
life he could control: his honor and the excellence of his life
(Rosenberg 38). All other considerations were subservient to these
two values. Composed by Homer more than two thousand years ago,
Juanico 4
the exchange between Hector and Andromache, when she begs him not
to return to the battle raging outside the walls of Troy, for it was
foretold that he would die in the hands of mighty Achilles, exemplifies
best the essence of the heroic spirit:
Andromache grasped his hand, and said, "O Hector! your strength
will be your destruction; and you have no pity either for your
infant son or for your unhappy wife who will soon be your widow.
For soon all the Achaeans will set upon you and kill you; and if I
lose you it would be better for me to die. I shall have no other
comfort, but my sorrow. I have no father and no mother: for my
father Eetion was slain by Achilles . . . And I had seven brothers
in my home, and all of them swift-footed Achilles slew; and my
mother, who was Queen at Placos, died in my father's house.
Hector you are father and mother and brother to me, and you
are my proud husband. Come, take pity on me now! Stay on these
walls, and do not leave your son an orphan and me a widow." To
her in reply said Hector of the flashing helmet . . .
"But I should feel great shame before the Trojans and the
Trojan women of long robes if like a coward I should linger away
from battle. Nor do I find that in my heart, for I have been
taught to be brave always, and to fight in the forefront among
the Trojans, winning great glory for my father and for myself."
(qtd. in Kitto 57)
One can see from the preceding passage that the hero will not even
consider the needs and love of his family when his glory and honor are
at stake. But it would be a mistake to view the hero as someone who is
devoid of compassion—Hector also shows how much he cares for
Andromache as he continues talking to her:
"For well do I know this, and I am sure of it: that the day is
coming when the holy city of Troy will perish, and Priam and the
people of wealthy Priam. But my grief is not so much for the
Trojans, nor for Hecuba herself, nor for Priam the King, nor for
my many noble brothers, who will be slain by the foe and will
lie in the dust, as for you, when one of the bronze-clad Achaeans
will carry you away in tears, and end your days of freedom. . . .
And then a man will say, as he sees you weeping, 'This is the wife
of Hector, who was the noblest in battle of the horse-taming
Trojans, when they were fighting around Ilion.' This is what
they will say: and it will be fresh grief for you, to fight against
slavery, bereft of a husband like that. But may I be dead, may
the earth be heaped over my grave before I hear your cries, and
of the violence done to you." So spake shining Hector, and held
out his arms to his son. (qtd. in Kitto 57)
Oedipus, a hero of superior intelligence, also displays this
uncompromising attitude in his pursuit of the truth. Compare this
Juanico 5
dialogue between Oedipus and Jocasta, when she begs him not to
pursue his inquiry regarding his origin, to that of Hector and
Andromache and see the similarities:
Oedipus. Do you know anything about him, Lady? Is he the man
we summoned? Is that the man this shepherd means?
Jocasta. Why think of him? Forget this herdsman. Forget it
all. This talk is a waste of time.
Oedipus. How can you say that, when the clues to my birth are
in my hands?
Jocasta. For God's love, let us have no more questioning! Is
your life nothing to you? My own is pain enough for
me to bear.
Oedipus. You need not worry. Suppose my mother a slave, and
born of slaves: no baseness can touch you.
Jocasta. Listen to me, I beg you: do not do this thing!
Oedipus. I will not listen; the truth must be made known.
(Sophocles 825)
Oedipus also demonstrates his compassionate nature when he tells the
plague-stricken citizens of Thebes how he feels for their distress:
Poor children! You may be sure I know
All that you longed for in your coming here.
I know that you are deathly sick; and yet,
Sick as you are, not one is as sick as I.
Each of you suffers in himself alone
His anguish, not another's; but my spirit
Groans for the city, for myself, for you. (Sophocles 803)
The hero's conscious choice to pursue and accept his doom, however,
makes him a tragic figure. Bernard M. W. Knox, author of The Heroic
Temper: Studies in Sophoclean Tragedy, points out that the hero has
to choose between his doom and an alternative "which if accepted
would betray the hero's own conception of himself, his rights, his
duties," but in the end the hero "refuses to yield; he remains true to
himself, to his physis, that 'nature' which he inherited from his parents
and which is his identity" (8). Therefore, one can see Oedipus's
unwavering insistence to uncover the truth about the murder of Laius
and then about himself as proof of the hero's resolute commitment to
uphold his own "nature." Oedipus's unyielding quest for the truth fits
his self-image as "a man of action," "the revealer of truth," and the
"solver of riddles" (Knox 28). Knox adds that the hero's
Juanico 6
determination to act is "always announced in emphatic, uncompromising
terms" (10). Oedipus proclaims his intention of finding Laius's killers
by saying, "Then once more I must bring what is dark to light"
(Sophocles 804). When Jocasta begs him to cease his inquiry
regarding his identity, Oedipus replies, "I will not listen; the truth
must be made known" (Sophocles 825). The hero cannot be swayed by
threats or reason; he will not capitulate. One can only hope that the
hero will realize the folly and error of his ways in time (Knox 26).
Creon, after being accused by Oedipus of conspiring against the king,
retorted, "You do wrong when you take good men for bad, bad men for
good. . . . In time you will know this well" (Sophocles 815). The hero,
however, never learns in time; "he remains unchanged" (Knox 26).
Oedipus, after his terrible self-mutilation, realizes that he treated
Creon unjustly: "Alas, how can I speak to him? What right have I to
beg his courtesy whom I deeply wronged?" (Sophocles 833). But later
Creon has to remind Oedipus that he is no longer king when he starts
issuing imperious commands such as: "But let me go, Creon!"; "Take
pity on them; see, they are only children, friendless except for you.";
"Promise me this, Great Prince, and give me your hand in token of it.";
"No! Do not take them from me!"(Sophocles 834-35). The hero
provided the ancient Greeks the belief that in some chosen person
"humanity is capable of superhuman greatness . . . that a human being
may at times magnificently defy the limits imposed on our will by the
fear of public opinion, of community action, even of death, may refuse
to accept humiliation and indifference and impose his will no matter
what the consequences to others and to himself" (Knox 57). This
unyielding resolve to accept his doom, "no matter what the
consequences to others and to himself," to bestow meaning to his life,
gives the hero "a dignity, a nobility, and a grandeur that do not tarnish
with the passage of time. When he is most vulnerable, he is most
noble" (Rosenberg 39).
Juanico 7
What about Oedipus's fate? If fate victimized Oedipus, then he is
not a tragic figure since he would be just a mere puppet of destiny. I
do not subscribe to this view. I believe that Oedipus is a tragic
figure because it is his own heroic qualities, his loyalty to Thebes, and
his fidelity to the truth that ruined him. Even though he is warned
many times to stop seeking for the truth, he keeps on searching.
Moreover, he is ignorant of the circumstances surrounding his birth
( hamartia), which is another reason that makes him a tragic figure.
Aristotle explains that the nature of the tragic character is that of a
person who is eminently just and good, but whose misfortune is brought
about not by some vice or depravity but by error, ignorance, or
frailty. Oedipus fits this description perfectly. According to E. R.
Dodds, author of the essay "On Misunderstanding the Oedipus Rex,"
the story of Oedipus fascinates us because of
the spectacle of a man freely choosing, from the highest motives,
a series of actions which lead to his own ruin. Oedipus might
have left the plague to take its course; but pity for the
sufferings of his people compelled him to consult Delphi. When
Apollo's word came back, he might still have left the murder of
Laius uninvestigated; but piety and justice required him to act.
He need not have forced the truth from the reluctant Theban
herdsman; but because he cannot rest content with a lie, he must
tear away the last veil from the illusion in which he had lived so
long. Teiresias, Jocasta, and the herdsman, each in turn tries to
stop him, but in vain: he must read the last riddle, the riddle of
his own life. (23)
Yet it seems to me that fate has dealt Oedipus a bad hand right
from the start. The royal House of Thebes has a long history of
undeserved misfortune starting with the founder and Oedipus's
great-great-grandfather, Cadmus, and his wife, Harmonia. They were
both turned into snakes by the gods. All four of their daughters were
visited with great misfortune. One daughter, Semele, was killed
by the splendor of Zeus. Ino, another daughter, committed suicide by
leaping down from a cliff with her dead son, who was killed by her
mad-stricken husband, in her arms. Agave, the most unfortunate
daughther, was driven mad into thinking that her son was a lion, and she
killed him with her own hands. Autonoe, the last daughter, had to
endure the death of his son, who was turned into a stag by Artemis and
later was felled by his own hounds. Edith Hamilton, author of
Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes, admits that these
members of the House of Thebes were innocent, but their fate was not
punishment rather "proof that suffering was not punishment for
wrongdoing; the innocent suffered as often as the guilty" (256). I
believe that Oedipus inherited the curse of the House of Thebes.
Oedipus, after knowing the ghastly truth, cries, "I, Oedipus . . .
damned in his birth, in his marriage damned, damned in the blood he
shed with his own hands!" (Sophocles 828). After blinding himself, he
questions his fate:
God. God.
Is there a sorrow greater?
Where shall I find harbor in this world?
My voice is hurled far on a dark wind.
What has God done to me? (Sophocles 831)
The chorus sings Oedipus's fate after he rushes into the palace:
Child by Laius doomed to die,
Then doomed to lose that fortunate little death,
Would God you never took breath in this air
That with my wailing lips I take to cry:
For I weep the world's outcast. (Sophocles 829)
Furthermore, the prophesy proclaimed by the oracle is unconditional,
and what the oracle foretells is "inevitably and inexorably bound to
happen no matter what Oedipus may have done to avoid it (Dodds 21).
In conclusion, I want to reiterate my belief that Oedipus was a
victim of fate, but he was no puppet because he freely and actively
sought his doom though he was warned many times not to pursue it. His
past actions may have been determined by fate, but what he did in
Thebes he did so as a free individual. He claimed full responsibility,
as a hero would, when Choragos asked what god drove him to blind
himself: "Apollo. Apollo. Dear children, the god was Apollo. He
brought my sick, sick fate upon me. But the blinding hand was my
own!" (Sophocles 831). Sophocles ends this tragic story by warning us
not to take anything for granted lest we suffer like Oedipus:
Men of Thebes: look upon Oedipus.
This is the king, who solved the famous riddle
And towered up most powerful of men.
No mortal eyes but looked on him with envy,
Yet in the end ruin swept over him.
Let every man in mankind's frailty
Consider his last day; and let none
Presume on his good fortune until he find
Life, at his death, a memory without pain. (836)
Works Cited
Dodds, E. R. "On Misunderstanding the Oedipus Rex." Twentieth
Century Interpretations of Oedipus Rex: A Collection of
Critical Essays. Ed. Michael J. O'Brien. New Jersey:
Prentice-Hall, 1968. 17-29.
Hamilton, Edith. Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes. New
York: Penguin Books, 1940.
Kitto, H. D. F. The Greeks. New York: Penguin Books, 1951.
Knox, Bernard M. W. The Heroic Temper: Studies in Sophoclean
Tragedy. Berkeley: U of California Press, 1964.
Nagle, Brendan D. The Ancient World: A Cultural and Social History.
New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1979.
Rosenberg, Donna. World Mythology: An Anthology of the Great
Myths and Epics. Illinois: Passport Books, 1988.
Sophocles. "Oedipus Rex." An Introduction to Literature, 11th ed.
Eds. Sylvan Barnet, et al. New York: Longman, 1997. 800-836.
Some Definitions of Greek Terms*
hubris: wanton insolence, arrogance from pride, violent anger;
presumption (originally toward the gods); excessive self-
confidence.
hamartia: to fail of one's purpose, to go wrong (originally, to miss
the mark, target), error, mistake in judgment;
Aristotle: error derived from ignorance of some material
fact or circumstance (ignorance combined with absence
of wicked intent).
tragedy: an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of
a certain magnitude; in the form of action . . .: through
pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these
emotions and; plot is the first principle, the soul of
tragedy; most important of all is the structure of the
incidents.
nature of the tragic character: Aristotle: the change of fortune must
presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man
brought from prosperity to adversity, for this moves
neither pity nor fear: it merely shocks us. Nor, again,
that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity,
for nothing can be more alien to the moral sense nor
calls forth pity or fear. Nor, again, should the downfall
of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot of this kind
would, doubtless satisfy the moral sense, but it would
inspire neither pity nor fear, for pity is aroused by
unmerited misfortune . . . There remains, then, the
character between these two extremes—that of a man
who is eminently good and just. Yet whose misfortune
is brought about not by vice or depravity but by some
error or frailty.
*Taken from one of Dr. Rhoda Sirlin's handouts in her Introduction to Literature
class.
