Table Of ContentEuripidean Dreama
It is a commonly held view among historians of Greek literature that with the
advent of Euripides the tragic structure, even the tragic outlook of Greek
drama suffered a breakdown from which it never recovered. While there is
much truth in this opinion, it has tended to put too much emphasis on
"Euripides the destroyer" rather than "Euripides the creator." In this study
the author's main purpose is to redress the balance and to discuss the
structure and techniques of Euri-pidean drama in relation to its new and
richly varied themes.
The consistent dramatic form evolved by Aeschylus and Sophocles had grown
out of their conception of tragedy as the resultant of the tension between
the individual will and the universal order suggested in myth. For Euri-
pides, who never fully accepted myth as the real basis of tragedy, alternate
ways of using the traditional material became necessary, and the playwright
continually changed his dramatic structure to suit the particular tragic idea
he was seeking to express. Viewed in this way, Euripides' dramatic tech-
nique may be seen in positive as well as negative terms—as something other
than the breakdown of structural technique and mythological insight under
the overwhelming force of his ideas. Professor Conacher offers here a new
view of Euripides as the first Greek dramatist properly to understand the
world of myth, and so, in a sense, to stand a bit outside it. He shows how
Euripides, far from being an impatient or incompetent craftsman, used tradi-
tional myth as a basis for inventing new forms in which to cast his per-
ceptions of the sources of human tragedy.
All the extant Euripidean drama is examined in this book; the result is an
intelligent guide to the plays for all students of dramatic literature, as well as
a convincing defence of Euripides the creator.
D. J. CONACHER was born and grew up in Kingston, Ontario. After re-
ceiving his B.A. and M.A. degrees from Queen's University, he went to
the University of Chicago for his Ph.D. He has been the recipient of
numerous postgraduate and postdoctoral fellowships and awards including the
Nuffield Travelling Fellowship for Research at Oxford, Research Travel
Grants from the Humanities Research Council and the Canada Council, and a
Visiting Research Scholarship at Fondation Hardt, Geneva. He has taught in
several Canadian universities and is now Head of the Department of Classics,
Trinity College, University of Toronto.
On 0
Euripidean
Drama
MYTH, THEME
AND
STRUCTURE
D. J. Conacher
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO PRESS
© University of Toronto Press, 1967
Printed in Canada
London: Oxford University Press, 1967
Preface
In the ancient division between formal criticism, on the one hand, and
historical, biographical and "cultural" criticism, on the other, Euripi-
dean studies have tended, at least until quite recent times, to choose
the latter approach. Possibly because Euripides has appeared to some
scholars to be more "engaged" than were the other two great tragedians
in the political and philosophic issues of his time, the historical critics
in particular have constantly sought in his plays clues to contemporary
situations and, conversely, have sought to elucidate his plays in terms
of such situations. In this and in other partially biographical approaches
to Euripidean drama, the assigning of various plays to specific periods
of the poet's development must necessarily play an important part.
Such divisions of Euripidean plays have, of course, also been made,
and are still being made, on a much broader basis than that of the
alleged reflection in them of contemporary events and of contemporary
Euripidean attitudes. One of the earliest of such attempts, and still one
of the most useful, was the parcelling of Euripidean drama into four
neat periods, determined mainly by the subject matter of the plays
concerned. This criterion has, perhaps, an unfair advantage over other
such instruments, in that it is applicable, to some degree, even to "lost"
plays of which we know something of the content. More recent and
more precise studies have concentrated more on stylistic, metrical and
dramaturgic considerations as criteria for such divisions.
Useful as all these approaches have been in determining the develop-
ment and the historical changes in Euripidean attitudes, technique and
interests, I believe that by now this vein has been nearly worked through,
and I would suggest that it is by no means the only way in which the
dramatist's work can be considered. My own interest, though it does not
exclude the cultural and even the political environment of certain drama-
tic productions, lies rather in seeking to relate the varied and often novel
vi PREFACE
structures and techniques of Euripidean drama to the varied and often
novel themes which the dramatist has chosen to expound. This interest
has led to the discovery, or at least the description, of several different
kinds of Euripidean tragedy which are largely, though not entirely,
determined by the dramatist's varied approaches to the traditional
material of myth or (to look at the matter in another way) by the
different levels of reality which he has chosen to employ in different
plays. These divisions do not correspond very precisely to any historical
grouping of the poet's plays (insofar as their dates can be determined),
and so it has seemed best to abandon the genetic approach to Euripides
in this instance, while admitting its cogency in other kinds of study of
his work.
If a distinction in material may be made between formal and historical
criticism, a distinction in means and method may be made between
intuitive and academic criticism. The completely intuitive critic states
as directly as possible, without proof, discussion or reference to other
views, the essential meaning which a given work has for him, his own
aesthetic experience "in the raw," as it were. At its best (in, say, an
essay like Simone Weil's, The Iliad or Poem of Force) such criticism is
of incomparable value: written, usually, by poets rather than by scholars,
it provides us with an articulate response to the work in question which
is almost as intense and personal as poetic creation itself. Such a critic,
like a poet writing a poem on a nightingale, need never worry what
other men have said, for he knows that what he says will be different.
Good criticism of this kind, which is very rare, is as uniquely valuable
as good poetry and quite as independent.
Any aesthetic experience, particularly one concerning so "public" a
vehicle as a play, must be in one sense unique, in another sense shared.
No one and nothing should be allowed to replace the unique personal
core of that experience, but unless one is completely satisfied with one's
private view and of one's ability to transmit it in creative terms, the large
peripheral area of shared experience may, when refined to sharper focus,
turn out to be a very rich source for understanding and expounding any
given work. One has only to remember one valuable discussion of a
given play, seen or read, with a fellow being who has been (in the full
sense of the words) similarly engaged to admit the principle behind this
observation.
It is in this peripheral area of his experience that the academic critic
should be prepared to expand his own awareness of a work's meaning or,
it may be, to sharpen and intensify his personal view of it, by listening
to its echoes in other minds. Where one finds stimulating criticism, one
PREFACE vii
should be prepared to make use of it, either in alliance with, or in dia-
lectical opposition to, one's own analysis. Indeed, in the case of plays
whose interpretative and structural problems are justly celebrated, it
would surely be hybristic to embark on one's own analysis as if no word
had yet been spoken. In such cases, the sampling and evaluation of a
fairly wide area of critical opinion (itself of some intrinsic interest)
often turns out to be a useful device for formulating the relevant critical
questions, for it is the shortcomings as well as the merits of "other
views" that often goad one into defining one's own position.
In any study of all extant Euripidean drama (fragments excepted), the
area of disagreement with or independence of the views of other critics
will vary greatly in different plays. It would obviously be much easier to
write a more "original" book only on those points, or on those plays,
in which one finds oneself in sharp disagreement with all other views.
To do so, however, would be to sacrifice too much in the interests of
preserving a somewhat dainty and artificial form of "originality." In
the first place, it is preferable, in fairness to the plays one believes to
have been particularly "misunderstood," to study them in relation to the
complete extant corpus of the poet. In the second place, it would surely
be foolish to exclude one's own analysis of a play simply because, in
certain particulars, one agrees with other critics. My own views of the
theme and structure of Euripidean drama have evolved from my own
analyses of the plays, not formed in isolation but expanded, tested and
(I think) strengthened by consideration of other views as well. Just as,
in some cases, I have attempted to sharpen an original view by rebutting
competing views, so I have not hesitated, in other cases, to incorporate
(with due acknowledgment) into my own analysis of a play any per-
ceptions of other critics which I have found particularly helpful or con-
genial. This strikes me as a legitimate application of normal scholarly
procedure to the particular problems of literary criticism.
Another feature of this book, distinct from, yet supplementary to, its
literary-critical purpose, may need an additional word of explanation.
Throughout the study of Euripidean drama various more or less techni-
cal problems inevitably appear: uncertainties concerning the authen-
ticity of substantial passages of text or the evidence for dating "undated"
work and, in the case of certain plays, uncertainties concerning the
antecedent mythological tradition or the reconstruction of lost members
of a possibly connected trilogy. Such problems will all be familiar to the
specialist, but too often the general student of Greek drama must depend,
even for notice of them, on scholarly editions and specialized articles
viii PREFACE
not readily available to him. In my own limited treatment of such prob-
lems, where they are relevant to the understanding or the reading of any
given play, my intention has been simply to make the student aware of
their existence and nature, and to suggest, within the limits of a general
study, the current state of critical opinion upon them. In this ancillary
part of my work, I have not hesitated to make generous use of more
specialized studies and to refer the reader to them for further discussion
of the points concerned. Thus the occasional note or appendix on these
more technical matters makes no great claim to originality, and in most
cases the judgments tentatively offered are no more conclusive than the
present state of scholarly opinion on them seems to warrant.
One notable omission among problems of this nature is "the Rhesus
question." Since recent studies of this question have convinced me (though
this has not always been their intention) that the authenticity of the
Rhesus has not yet been established, I have withdrawn my own analysis
of this play. Such an analysis would need to be preceded by a re-exami-
nation of evidence and arguments clearly beyond the scope and compe-
tence of this present study. On this whole matter, it must suffice to refer
the reader to two or three recent publications in which the fundamental
issues and differences of opinion have been clearly set forth. The first
of these to be mentioned must be William Ritchie's The Authenticity of
the Rhesus (Cambridge, 1964); while this work does not (as I have
suggested in my review of it CJ LXI [1966], 187-89), completely
establish the conclusion which its title implies, it does present, fairly
and clearly, the greater part of the relevant evidence, and it includes a
full bibliography and discussion of the various critical positions which
have been taken with regard to the Rhesus' authorship. Major difficulties
in the way of accepting Professor Ritchie's arguments for Euripides'
authorship of the play are to be found in Professor Fraenkel's review
of this work (Gnomon, XXXVII [June, 1965], 228-41, as well as in
certain observations concerning the psychology and technique of the
play in an earlier article by H. Strohm ("Beobachtungen zum Rhesos"
Hermes LXXXVII [1959], 257-74) to which Fraenkel refers in his
criticism of Ritchie.
Certain chapters included in this book are based on articles which I
have published, as indicated below. In the first four instances, the chap-
ters concerned are in fact the same as the articles in question, except
for very minor adaptations, such as the addition of subheadings. Chapter
4 is based on my article, "Theme, Plot and Technique in the Heracles
of Euripides," Phoenix, IX (1955), 139-52. Chapter 5 is based on my
PREFACE ix
article, "Religious and Ethical Attitudes in Euripides' Suppliants"
Transactions of the American Philological Association, LXXXVII
(1956), 8-26. Chapter 8 is based on my article, "Euripides' Hecuba"
American Journal of Philology, LXXXII (1961), 1-26. Chapter 15 is
based on my article, "The Paradox of Euripides' Ion" Transactions of
the American Philological Association, XC (1959) 20-39. The introduc-
tory chapter is based in part only on my article, "Freedom and Necessity
in Greek Tragedy," Queen's Quarterly, LXVII (1961), 514-29. Chap-
ters 2 and 3 derive a few points from my article, "Some Euripidean
Techniques in the Dramatic Treatment of Myth," University of Toronto
Quarterly, XXII (1952), 55-71. Chapter 2 at one specific point makes
use of conclusions first expressed in my article, "A Problem in Euripi-
des' Hippolytus," Transactions of the American Philological Associa-
tion, XCll (1961), 37-44.
It remains only to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance, tangible
and intangible, which I have received during the years in which I have
been engaged in this work. For substantial assistance in my research,
I should like to thank: The Nuffield Foundation for a Travelling Fellow-
ship to Oxford in 1957-58; the Humanities Research Council, Canada
Council, and the University of Toronto for short-term grants in aid of
research; and Fondation Hardt, pour l'étude de l'Antiquité Classique,
Vandœuvres-Genève, for hospitality and research facilities in the summer
of 1963. This work has been published with the help of a grant from the
Humanities Research Council of Canada using funds provided by the
Canada Council, and with assistance from the Publications Fund of the
University of Toronto Press.
I should also like to express my gratitude for the help and encourage-
ment of various friends, colleagues and students with whom I have
discussed my ideas or who have read parts of my work in manuscript.
In particular, I should like to thank Mr. Emmet Robbins for invaluable
assistance in checking the final typescript.
D.J.C.
