Edipo Rey: Tragedia clásica griega: Biblioteca de Grandes Escritores

Por Sófocles

Ebook con un sumario dinámico y detallado: Edipo rey es una tragedia griega de Sófocles, de fecha desconocida. Algunos indicios dicen que pudo ser escrita en los años posteriores a 430 a. C. Aunque la tetralogía de la que formaba parte solo logró el segundo puesto en el agón dramático, muchos consideran Edipo rey la obra maestra de Sófocles. Entre ellos, Aristóteles, que la analiza en la Poética. La obra nos presenta a Edipo en su momento de mayor esplendor, como rey de Tebas y esposo de Yocasta. Para salvar a la ciudad, comienza a investigar la muerte del rey anterior, Layo. Poco a poco se descubre la verdad: Edipo es el asesino que busca, Layo era su padre y su esposa, Yocasta, es al mismo tiempo su madre. Yocasta se suicida y Edipo, tras cegarse a sí mismo, pide a su cuñado Creonte que le deje partir al destierro y se quede con sus dos hijas, ya que sus dos hijos son hombres y sabrán cómo actuar.

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: IberiaLiteratura
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 31 mar 2015
• ISBN: 9783959280419

Sófocles

Sòfocles (Colono, 496 - Atenes, 406 aC) es va donar a conèixer al 468 aC com a autor tràgic en vèncer, al concurs teatral que se celebrava anualment a Atenes durant les festes Dionísies, a Èsquil, el dominador en els anys precedents. Se'l considera, juntament amb Èsquil i Eurípides, una de les figures més destacades de la tragèdia grega. De tota la seva producció només es conserven set tragèdies completes: Èdip rei, Èdip a Colono, Antígona, Áyax, Les Traquinies, Electra i Filoctetes.

Vista previa del libro

Índice

PERSONAJES

ACCIÓN

Sófocles

Edipo Rey

PERSONAJES

Edipo.

Sacerdote.

Creonte.

Coro de ancianos tebanos.

Tiresias.

Yocasta.

Mensajero.

Servidor de Layo.

Otro mensajero.

ACCIÓN

(Delante del palacio de Edipo, en Tebas. Un grupo de ancianos y de jóvenes están sentados en las gradas del altar, en actitud suplicante, portando ramas de olivo. El Sacerdote de Zeus se adelanta solo hacia el palacio. Edipo sale seguido de dos ayudantes y contempla al grupo en silencio. Después les dirige la palabra.)

Edipo.- ¡Oh hijos, descendencia nueva del antiguo Cadmo ¿Por qué estáis en actitud sedente ante mí, coronados con ramos de suplicantes? La ciudad está llena de incienso, a la vez que de cantos, de súplica y de gemidos, y yo, porque considero justo no enterarme por otros mensajeros, he venido en persona, yo, el llamado Edipo, famoso entre todos. Así que, oh anciano, ya que eres por tu condición a quien corresponde hablar, dime en nombre de todos: ¿cuál es la causa de que estéis así ante mí? ¿El temor, o el ruego? Piensa que yo querría ayudaros en todo. Sería insensible, si no me compadeciera ante semejante actitud.

Sacerdote.- ¡Oh Edipo, que reinas en mi país! Ves de qué edad somos los que nos sentamos cerca de tus altares: unos, sin fuerzas aún para volar lejos; otros, torpes por la vejez, somos Sacerdotes -yo lo soy de Zeus-, y otros, escogidos entre los aún jóvenes. El resto del pueblo con sus ramos permanece sentado en las plazas en actitud de súplica, junto a los dos templos de Palas y junto a la ceniza profética de Ismeno. La ciudad, como tú mismo puedes ver, está ya demasiado agitada y no es capaz todavía de levantar la cabeza de las profundidades por la sangrienta sacudida. Se debilita en las plantas fructíferas de la tierra, en los rebaños de bueyes que pacen y en los partos infecundos de las mujeres. Además, la divinidad que produce la peste, precipitándose, aflige la ciudad. ¡Odiosa epidemia, bajo cuyos efectos está despoblada la morada Cadmea, mientras el negro Hades se enriquece entre suspiros y lamentos! Ni yo ni estos jóvenes estamos sentados como suplicantes por considerarte igual a los dioses, pero sí el primero de los hombres en los sucesos de la vida y en las intervenciones de los dioses. Tú que, al llegar, liberaste la ciudad Cadmea del tributo que ofrecíamos a la cruel cantora y, además, sin haber visto nada más ni haber sido informado por nosotros, sino con la ayuda de un dios, se dice y se cree que enderezaste nuestra vida. Pero ahora, ¡oh Edipo, el más sabio entre todos!, te imploramos todos los que estamos aquí como suplicantes que nos consigas alguna ayuda, bien sea tras oír el mensaje de algún dios, o bien lo conozcas de un mortal. Pues veo que son efectivos, sobre todo, los hechos llevados a cabo por los consejos de los que tienen experiencia. ¡Ea, oh el mejor de los mortales!, endereza la ciudad. ¡Ea!, apresta tu guardia, porque esta tierra ahora te celebra como su salvador por el favor de antaño. Que de ninguna manera recordemos de tu reinado que vivimos, primero, en la prosperidad, pero caímos después; antes bien, levanta con firmeza la ciudad. Con favorable augurio, nos procuraste entonces la fortuna. Sénos también igual en esta ocasión. Pues, si vas a gobernar esta tierra, como lo haces, es mejor reinar con hombres en ella que vacía, que nada es una fortaleza ni una nave privadas de hombres que las pueblen.

Edipo.- ¡Oh hijos dignos de lástima! Venís a hablarme porque anheláis algo conocido y no ignorado por mí. Sé bien que todos estáis sufriendo y, al sufrir, no hay ninguno de vosotros que padezca tanto como yo. En efecto, vuestro dolor llega sólo a cada uno en sí mismo y a ningún otro, mientras que mi ánimo se duele, al tiempo, por la ciudad y por mí y por ti. De modo que no me despertáis de un sueño en el que estuviera sumido, sino que estad seguros de que muchas lágrimas he derramado yo y muchos caminos he recorrido en el curso de mis pensamientos. El único remedio que he encontrado, después de reflexionar

Comentarios para Edipo Rey

[velmeran · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

A standard morality play.

[Ginebra Loz · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Lo mejor es la descripción de su desgracias y la ansiedad que le provoca la verdad.

[john257hopper · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

This classic play is an out and out dramatic classic of murder,
incest, self-mutilation and suicide. It is amazing to think that this play was performed nearly 2,500 years ago, five times longer ago than Shakespeare's plays. Put another way, when Jesus was born and lived, this play was as far in the past to people living then as Shakespeare's plays are to us now in 2024. It won second prize in a competition in 429 BC to a play now lost to us written by a nephew of Euripides, one of the other two most prominent Greek tragic writers of the era. What huge influence this and other plays of the era have had on the literature of the past two and a half millennia.

[dreesie-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

My only familiarity (which was itself limited) with Oedipus is from psychology, the Oedipus complex, etc.

I was surprised to find that Oedipus received an oracle telling him of his future--and that it was his desperate attempt to avoid that future that made it come true. He did not know his true origins, if he had just stayed where he was he would have been fine--but then you can't avoid an oracle, can you? Even if the oracle itself sets it all in motion. Confusing to think about, which makes for a good story.

[meditationesmartini · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

In these end times, it's rare to come to any great work fresh, but it's hard to imagine much that's as predetermined as Oedipus--forget Freud, forget Turin Turambar, forget that the Sphinx has been missing her nose so long none of us even remembers what she looked like when she asked Oedi that riddle that we've all known the answer to as long as we knew that riddles had answers. Even the basics of this story are, pardon the expression, mother's milk--if you know one thing about The Broters Karamazov it's Jesus and the Inquisitor, or maybe that a SON MURDERS his mean old dad; and if you know one thing about Hamlet it's to be or not to be or maybe that there's something a bit OEDIPAL between the prince and his ma; but if you know one thing about Oedipus, it's the same thing everyone else in the world knows: he killed his father and married his mother, and even 2400 years later he's not lived it down.

And granted, there are surprises actually coming to the play--Sophocles observes the thee unities (in fact he was Aristotle's major model for what constitutes quality drama, including those stupid unities), and so this isn't done in the way a modern would do it, as a twisted Bildungsroman, a coming to filthy self-knowledge. We don't see the expected sweep of a tragic life: no Sphinx, no killing at the crossroads, except in flashback; we don't see Oedipus living as a broken man, and feel the catharsis of watching time restore him some human dignity (I understand some of that comes in the sequels). Instead we get the story of a single (really bad) day, in classic(al) Thespian style. And for me at least it does suffer the littlest bit for it. Things don't happen for a reason, but simply because they're fated; we create our own prison; yeah yeah. But at least that long term gives us a chance to make our own meaning. Sophocles is a master and the text is rich, rich, but anything we can say about the "meaning" here, the what is a just king (Oedi and Cleon and their respective flaws) or the compulsion to self-knowledge (Oedipus as proto-Faust) or the sick generation game of blood-will-out and how we repeat our parents' mistakes (I note that the original reason for Laius's being cursed, according to Euripedes, was that he buggered a young boy--history's original pederast, in the Greek imagination, as before that boy-love was reserved for the gods because it was soooo hot--and think it doesn't take much imagination to see this as a kind of story aabout child abouse, somewhat displaced of course, and its scars)....

...you can do all that but the fact remains that all that happens in this play is--Sophocles doesn't even how you, he tells you--Oedipus kills his dad and marries his mom, and puts out his eyes, and that's it, that's the play. It's all anyone knows about Oedipus, and they're still talking about it. It's like high school.

And so there's a slight unfinishedness about this, despite yer precious unities. Luckily, as a dramatization of what amounts to just a cringeworthy episode, it's magnificent. Sophocles knew his craft. Every step--the bravado, the intrigue, the slowly unfolding horror--is riveting, and elevated in that Greek way that makes you really believe in the significance of it all, and the characters are so deft and economically conveyed. Oedipus most of all, and the fact that everyone knows except him (even the original audience did, because the story was an old one) is what makes it work. He's not some crawling goatbotherer, not an angel--what he is is a worldbeater, a hero and bully, bursting with self-love and assurance of his place in the pantheon, a too-good-for-his-own-goodnik whose monster victory (putting him on a place with Theseus, Bellerophon, etc.) came from not only an immense piece of cleverness but also from a riddle about the measure of the lineaments and life of a man: four legs in the morning, two in the noon, three in the evening like Oedipus's poor auld dead dad, right?

It's the biggest, most artfully induced cringe of all when you think about it that way (depending how you handle the part where he puts brooches through his eyes). Oedipus is the tall brilliant son of Polybus and Merope, the prince of Corinth, and no doubt on some level the awful prophecy that causes him to flee home is also a source of self-fascination--some hint of mystery, of divine machinations, and if the prognosis of fatherslaying and motherfucking is a bit usettling, well, let him go deal with that by making his name elsewhere, taking Thebes, all to easy, as is his birthright (ouch) and the rest of the spoils, up to and including the recently bereaved queen. No propriety will stay in his way, and how that must multiply his chagrin when the truth comes--he is the riddlemaster, the mocker of Tireisas, THE HERO, and killing your dad and marrying your mum is the kind of thing that happens to poor people.

One more metaphor there--if you're born to success, or even a self-made man, don't look to closely at how you got it. And that's the final measure of Sophocles's artistry (at least in this book--I'm looking forward to that how-do-you-put-your-life-back-together stuff in ): that he manages to make this high-fiving swell sympathetic. Sophocles leaves Oedipus at the darkest moment: when "Who am I?" becomes "What am I?" And who (knowing all along who, what ego, what id) mutilated my life?" The last thing we see him do is put out his eyes not because he can't face suicide, exactly, but because he can't face the idea of seeing Laius and Jocasta in Hades, nor face the world as the thing he now is. And then, gather his daughters to him. Suffering makes us complex, and I'm curious to see what's next for the Prince of Thebes, but until then this little number hits like a thunderbolt.

[kaionvin · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

What's interesting about fate, and what's different from our world and Oedipus's, is that "fate" doesn't really exist in our world. No real oracles go around telling you you're going to sleep with your mother. Instead, it's a philosophical device. On one side you've got "free will" (traditional very Western, very American even with the idea of the individual going forward), and on the other side you've got your fatalists (see my mom and her Vietnamese cosmology [is that the word? Whatever, I’m going to use it], in which the people who are around you are literally born to be so because of the debt you owe each other in the present, owed in the past, and/or will use in the future). I'm not really a fan of philosophy, and as far as I'm concerned the goodness of each approach is only to be judged by how useful they are to a specific person in a specific situation (and place and time).

I say that there is no fate in our world, but that's not really true. What separates fate from free will is foresight, and there's plenty of that in our world. A cancer patient (like my aunt) being told she has six months to live. One step lower on the surety scale, my remaining aunts and my mother living under the knowledge that they're likely (what, like 50/50 chances) to get this dubious inheritance from their father (oh hey! Antigone, didn’t see you there). Or even to the much lower level of common sense, like stock markets: what goes up so precipitously, without merit, is likely to come down just as precipitously.

What’s interesting about Oedipus, is at first glance the prophecies within are so abhorrent, who wouldn’t react in horror to the idea of killing one’s father and sleeping with one’s mother? But at second glance, is it not common sense, is it not true for all families that one day the son will surpass the father, one day the father will fall and the son will take the father’s place? Is it not true men will judge their relationships with women against that first relationship with their moms?

The prophecy given to Oedipus and to his birth parents is a sensationalist version of the common sense truth for all families (even to those where the son cannot so literally inherit a father’s throne). And the real-world response to that un-sensational real-world dilemma is: “Hey, one day I’m going to die, and I’m going to try and leave the world(kingdom) in the hands of a good human being” (& “I’m going to teach my son to treat the women he loves with respect” & “I’m going to be good to my father while he’s alive and a really good person when he’s gone”).

You might say I’m unfair in comparing Oedipus to an unchangeable fate (cancer, though for most people, I don’t think killing one’s baby is really an option on the table… but we’ll get back to that). No, my aunt couldn’t change her rapidly-growing tumor, but she could change the way she went out. She took hold of her finances for the first time in her life, she aired her grievances towards her husband (and the frightful in-laws) and her children instead of stewing in them, she tied up her inheritance to provide for her youngest through college, she got the death she wanted (at home and with Buddhist rites), all so she could live her remaining months in peace, and die in peace, instead of continuing to live (practically a lifetime) in sorrow. Is it fair she died so young? Is life fair?

My mom doesn’t know if she’s going to get cancer in 4 years, but she’s you know, de-stressing her life, selling the house, doing things she wants to do, and going in for all her medical tests. No, it’s no magic trick to see one’s future, it’s magic to decide what to do about it. It’s easy to get desperate and anxious to change one’s fate, hey, how else do you think those snake doctors make a living… It’s not always easy to see the difference between trying to ‘master your fate’ and trying to make the best of it/just being proactive/smart.

I say sensationalist, but that’s not really true—you needn’t look far—when there’s a real shortage of women in the world (China and India are the real places of impact, though considering how much of the world population is from those two countries, it is effectively, a world impact) due to selective-gender abortion and female child abandonment (told you I’d get back to it). The ‘making the best world’ response (from parents, and from governments/society) is to educate girls, give them the same chances as boys, give them a world where women can be as useful to their families as men. The ‘master your fate’ response has created increased demand for sex-trafficking (and increased forced marriages and honor killings). Of course people want to escape “fate”, it is so human (and what makes the play so human)—of course, whether you call if “life” or “gods” or “fate”, it isn’t fair, but how much of it is really “fate” and how much is it our (humans) own choices?

And if we think the answer is to try ignorance, how can we try ignorance (no foresight)—people spend their whole lives trying to know, trying to make the world make sense (and we make gods and science to try and make sense of it for us) and it really is for the best psychics are really charlatans, because we got plenty of foresight on our own thanks, we just don’t know what to do with it (can’t ignore it either, see global warming). As the alcoholics/Christians say: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,/Courage to change the things I can,/And wisdom to know the difference.”

Basically what I’m saying is Sophocles is pretty genius, and Freud is a hack for as usual focusing on the WRONG PART of the text.

[hantsuki_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

I believe Shakespeare looked to this particular play for many of the ideas he had incorporated in his own plays. Oedipal complex is a given, but I'm sure he got the idea to manipulate characters like Othello and Macbeth through language like the way the soothsayer entices Oedipus on until he eventually learns the truth. I'm not saying the soothsayer meant to have Oedipus learn the truth, I don't think that, but Shakespeare may have thought that was a clever way to bring Oedipus to his ruin.

But on the play itself, it's a classic even older than Shakespeare obviously. If you've read Shakespeare, you should read this. At least it's short and written in plain English (well, depending on which translation you read).

[fufuakaspeechless_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

Excellent story.

[tadad_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Somehow I skipped having to read the Greek tragedies as a student; I missed a year of high school and perhaps that was when they came around on the curriculum.

Obviously, I'm no Greek scholar and I don't really feel qualified to comment much upon the quality of the play beyond saying that I enjoyed it quite a bit. It was interesting to watch the inexorable march toward the prophecy's fulfillment and to follow the various metaphors around "sight". I'm so used to prose that I found the verse difficult at the beginning, like picking up Shakespeare after a long absence, only more so. Still, by slowing down and reading each line at a deliberate pace, I found myself becoming immersed in it.

At first, my mind rebelled against what I expected to be a rather harsh fate laid upon Oedipus. I guess I was expecting the prophecy to be fulfilled due to gods interfering with mortals. As the play progressed, however, I realized that nothing was being forced upon him. Each action that occurred was the outcome of Oedipus' own choices. The results may seem somewhat overwhelming by modern standards of justice, but they were the natural consequences of his own actions.

I found myself wondering how the original audience would react to this play. The modern reader, simply through osmosis of a minor amount of literary history, is aware that Oedipus is doomed—that the very act of trying to avoid the Oracle's prophecy brings it to fruition. Was that in the "collective knowledge" of the time?

This is recommended and perhaps I'll try "Antigone" next.

[jacketscoversread · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Simply put, Oedipus unknowingly kills his father and marries his mother, Jocasta. When the city of Thebes is struck by plague, Oedipus sets out to discover who the murder of Laios, his father, is as it will lift the curse placed upon the city by the gods, specifically Apollo. In the end, Oedipus discovers what he has done, Jocasta kills herself, and Oedipus blinds himself before exiling himself from Thebes.

This happens to be the fourth time I’ve read Oedipus Rex. This tends to happen when your English teacher quits at the end of every year. However, I still enjoy reading Oedipus Rex because of the way Sophocles presents the story. Sophocles does not tell the story chronologically, instead, the reader learns about Oedipus’ past as he himself uncovers it. Plus, the irony throughout the tale, such as “none are as sick as I” {pg. 31}, makes it all the more enjoyable.

However, mucking through the play alone, i.e. without your classmates reading the parts in the mocking and sarcastic voices teenagers are known for, can make it extremely boring and hard to get through. Watch “Fraiser” instead.