The Core Blog

Jocasta enters in such a graceful and queenly way, I feel worst of all for her. Instantly, she puts an end to the bickering between Oedipus and Creon:

"For shame! Why have you raised this foolish squabbling

brawl? Are you not ashamed to air your private

griefs when the country's sick? Go in, you, Oedipus,

and you, too, Creon, into the house. Don't magnify

your nothing troubles." (634-638)

As we plug along through these books, I leap to the keyboard when I come across one of those themes that has never left literature, life, politics, etc.

Oh, Oedipus. It's as if you landed on the deck of an aircraft carrier with a "Drought Ended" sign waiting to great you. Teiresias warned you. He didn't seem to have any other motivation in the matter.

I'm a compulsive reader. I carry a man purse wherever I go so I can have a book with me at all times. I read on the subway. I read during my lunch break. I read sitting under a rack of clothes while my wife shops at Ann Taylor.

But the most enjoyable reading I do is when there is no one in the house, and the shades are opened on the backyard and the only noises are the crackling of the heating system coming to life and the occasional bird beating its wings near the window.

The testy interaction between Oedipus and Teiresias is so much fun. They lace into each other in a way that perfectly sets up the rest of the action.

"You would provoke a stone! Tell us, you villain,/ tell us, and do not stand there quietly/ unmoved and balking at the issue," (335-337) Oedipus says when Teiresias is reluctant to ruin what the king imagines is his good thing.

Goaded into spoiling the party, Teiresias responds, "You blame my temper but you do not see/ your own that lives within you." (338-339)

The blind seer has to be my favorite character in all of Greek mythology. It's not just his ability to see the future and skills at telling it like it is. It's also his somewhat mysterious origins, like those of a masked wrestler.

Already, I feel bad for Oedipus. He's a great king. We know because he tells us so in the eighth line. Yet his kingdom is ravished by the cruelties of nature.

People are starving and ill, and they don't know why until Creon returns from visiting with Apollo.

It turns out, the misery is going to go on until Oedipus kicks out the man who murdered Laius, the former king.

Who did it? How are they going to find him when there's only one witness, and he's no help?

Since we are reading only one of the three plays, the introduction isn't all that informative. But it did get me thinking about my love for trilogies and my loathing of tetralogies.

The list of threes that I love, Oedipus, Star Wars, U.S.A by John Dos Passos, goes on and on, but the movies, books and other art forms that travel beyond three seem to wear out their welcome (Star Wars, Indiana Jones ... ). Maybe it's just that it's impossible to consistently create masterpieces, especially in times where cultural tastes are so fickle.

Despite all the turmoil and death - lots and lots of death - The Odyssey is, in the end, a happy story about a hero's homecoming.

Not the case with our next book, Oedipus the King. I've read the Oedipus trilogy several times for class, but it has been a while since I last spent time with the doomed king.

Tomorrow, we will start Oedipus the King. The book is (thankfully for some, I'm sure) much shorter than The Odyssey. I will be posting less frequently - about twice a week, maybe more - so that you won't get sick of me commenting on every single page of the play.

Reading The Odyssey has felt like its own mini-epic. There were times when I thought that Poseidon, or maybe the god of Class Notes, would thwart my attempt to reach the final page. But here we are, and I feel a sense of accomplishment for having completed the book.