Sophocles Philoctetes Essay -- Sophocles Philoctetes Essays

Sophocles PhiloctetesNo word. Then I am nothing (950)Who bequeath say word of greeting to me? (1354)In his lecture Oedipus at the Crossroads, Simon Goldhill addresses the idea that the incest amongst mother and son results in the collapse not only of the characters, but of language itself or rather, of the language the characters use to express their despair. The fact that Oedipus stumbles on the haggle Daughter, sister reflects this breakdown of language. In Sophocles Philoctetes, there is a similar sense of shattered language, but here it is more a case of being decrepit by language, of language and civilisation being so intrinsic to each other that being leftover behind by one implies being left behind by both. The Choruss description of what they imagine Philoctetess solitary existence to be like reflects this He cries out in his miserableness/there is only a blabbering echo,/that comes from the distance speeding/from his corrosive crying(187), using lack of dialogue to r epresent his solitude. Similarly, it is significant that it is not distinct words that announce Philoctetess approach the first time he comes on stage, but rather the voice of a man wounded and a bitter cry (209,210). And it is no coincidence that upon meeting Neoptolemus, Philoctetes greeting becomes an insistent, repetitive cry Take pity on me speak to me speak/ speak if you come as friends. / Noanswer me/ If this is all/ that we can acquit from one another, speech, this, at least, we should have (230). Just as, when Odysseus plan has been revealed and the men are preparing to leave, Philoctetes supplication is Your voice has no word for me, son of Achilles? / Will you go away in silence?(1065). Speech is equated with pity, di... ...sation. The Chicago version of this passage reads Farewell the deep male let loose of the sea-lashed headland where many a time in answer to my crying in the storm of my sorrow the Hermes mountain sent its echo (1460) while in the Francklin versio n he states, perhaps more aptly (as his passiveness is felt much more), Farewell the noise of beating waves, which I so oft have heard from the rough sea Oft th Hermaean mount Echoed my plaintive voice. In both cases there is a keen sense of release, of breaking free, of the relief of keen that ones words will bear fruit to something other than a dim reflection of themselves, that ones attempts at dialogue will not be met with a wall of silence. It is an ending that resounds with possibility and potential the world Philoctetes is about to re-enter is a veritable blank page. A vast destiny awaits him.