#i get pissed off enough on behalf of one of my greek followers who got a lot of shit for so much as breathing that the comic wasnt perfect

[butchgwenwhyvar]

The Star Wars Prequels are a Greek Tragedy

Ok folks, buckle in because this classics nerd has made some Connections™

One of the main themes in the prequels (and by extension, the clone wars) is the inevitability of it all – I know it’s because it’s a prequel and as such, we know their fate, but that’s why it works.

(For the purpose of this meta post, please assume that when I say ‘the prequels’ and proceed to talk about Ahsoka or Rex, I mean ‘the prequels and the clone wars’ – it’s all part of the same story)

 (Important fact that relates to this meta post but doesn’t have much bearing on the actual argument #1: Anakin’s name comes from the Greek Goddess of inevitability, Ananke.)

 But the main argument is this: the prequels follow the format and pattern of a Greek tragedy. A Greek tragedy always has the audience take part in the form of the ‘chorus’ on stage – the chorus keep the story going and tell the audience what’s up, but they also provide an insight into the characters and question the characters on behalf of the audience (most tragedies are set in populated cities and palaces but a theatre troupe was traditionally around 5 people, so they had to get creative with extras and stuff). In the prequels and the clone wars, the role of the chorus is directly on the audience because we know what’s going to happen. We know about order 66 thanks to the start of season 6 and the end of season 7. We know that the sweet nine year old we meet in the phantom menace will become Vader. We know that Padme will die and that the Republic will fall and Palpatine will take power.

 To us, the chorus, it’s inevitable. But we also know the future of the characters, so there’s a thread of dramatic irony woven in (dramatic irony is a central part of the format of a Greek tragedy) because we know about the original trilogy and the fact that Luke will save Vader and the Empire gets royally fucked up by the rebels.

In Greek tragedy, the dramatic irony is a little less on the nose though. In Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex in Latin), the chorus and the audience know what’s going to happen from the start. By the time Sophocles had written down the play it had already been performed at least once at the Dionysia, an Athenian play festival where everyone got very drunk and people ran play contests – Sophocles was a common contributor to the contests, and it was recorded that he never got below second place. So as this play is being performed in the late third century BCE, it’s been around for around 100 years. The audience knows what’s up – they know that Jocasta is actually Oedipus’ mother, they know that Oedipus is actually the one that killed Laius and is bringing down the gods’ displeasure on Thebes. So when Oedipus and Creon are talking to Tiresias and saying ‘well, someone has to be cursed because that’s the only way we’ve pissed the gods off enough,’ the audience (and to an extent Tiresias, because he was a prophet) get a sense of dramatic irony. It’s similar to the scene in Attack of the Clones when Dooku’s talking about the sith in the senate – we as the chorus and the audience go ‘It’s Palpatine!’ because we’ve seen the originals and we know about the fall of the republic.

The sense of dramatic irony really helps to build the inevitability of it all because as the chorus, we know the future of these characters.

 Another thing that characterises the prequels as a specifically Greek tragedy is the use of fatal flaws and how they relate to the character’s virtues. Anakin’s main character traits are his general mistrust of authority, his sense of personal loyalty and his need to help others – he’s proven that he’d burn the galaxy down for his family and the people he loves, and there’s quite a few poignant scenes in the clone wars EU novels where he’s mourning the clones and generally caring a lot about them (if you want specific novels, Karen Miller’s ‘Clone Wars: Gambit – Stealth’ is excellent and is the source of that excellent ‘blind me and I’ll tell you who laughed’ quote, and Karen Traviss’ novelisation of the clone wars movie has lots of scenes with Anakin being a good bro to Rex and caring about the 501st). Padme’s main trait is her belief in human decency (we’re using human in this case because I’m relating it back to humans) – she cares deeply about seeing the good in people, up to her dying moments. Obi-Wan’s main trait is his dedication to the Order and their rules.

However, if you turn these traits on their heads, you get their fatal flaws and their ultimate downfall. Vader’s issues with authority and his need to save those he cares about lands him in the suit and as the Emperor’s attack dog. Padme can’t see the problems in the republic and all the things going wrong with Anakin until it’s too late because she’s so focussed on seeing the good in what’s left. Obi-Wan fails as Anakin’s mentor because he was too focused on the way things should have been (let the record show I am not shitting on Obi-Wan, this is just my thoughts about the narrative and this part of the Skywalker debacle).

In Oedipus Rex and Antigone (written before Oedipus, set after Oedipus – it’s about his daughter), the same thing happens. Oedipus’ loyalty to Thebes and his unwavering sense of duty makes him an excellent king – he listens to his people and takes their complaints into account. Creon’s ability to stick to the rules and provide a safe kingdom makes him the perfect second choice as king (this will make more sense when I talk about Antigone because Creon is a main character in this play as well – his character arc spans the two plays). Jocasta is kind and sees the best in everyone (I’m sensing a theme). But if you turn that on its head, all the ugly details come out. Oedipus has inadvertently committed one of the worst sins that the gods can think of a punishment for, and he’s promised the people of Thebes that whoever has cursed the land will be banished for life. When he finds out that his wife is also his mother and he murdered his birth father years ago, he blinds himself in shame but asks to stay in Thebes. This is where Creon’s flaw starts to appear – Oedipus asks to stay and Creon casts him out. Oedipus keeps his loyalty to the Thebans by maiming himself and marking himself as the cursed person, but he doesn’t think his actions through. If he’s banished, his four children will also be banished with him and will suffer for the rest of their lives. Staying is the only option. But Creon is too obsessed with placating the Thebans and the gods, so Oedipus and his children are cast out because of Creon’s determination to stick to the rules. Jocasta’s need to see the best in everyone leads to her denying that her husband is also her son, even once she’s put the pieces together – there’s a scene where she’s talking to her main and her maid asks and she refuses to acknowledge it. This leads to her killing herself in shame once the news has gotten out. It’s inevitable. The audience know and love this play. They know what’s coming.

And then Antigone happens. Antigone is Oedipus’ eldest daughter. Her siblings are Ismene, the youngest, Eteocles, and Polynices. Eteocles and Polynices have declared war on each other (Eteocles is fighting for Thebes, where Creon is the king now) and have killed each other. Eteocles is to be buried with full honours, while Polynices’ body is to be left in the dust (the Greeks believed that being buried in the dirt was the only way to get into the afterlife). So Antigone tries to bury Polynices over the course of the story – her main character trait is her loyalty and her persistence. Creon is still too wedded to the rules, but now he’s also stuck on his own idea of power – the king’s word above all else, even the gods.

The play ends with Antigone’s suicide after being banished  to a sealed cave for the rest of her life (she keeps covering Polynices’ body in dirt until Creon gets sick of it and sends her to the cave). Her loyalty and her tenacity have become her downfall and led to her death (for those interested, Antigone’s death led to Creon burying Polynices properly). Creon’s virtues of being a rule-following king lead to him essentially going mad with power, which leads to his son killing himself after he hears of Antigone’s sentence, his wife killing herself after she hears of Haemon’s death, and Creon’s apparent suicide (he gets an open ending but it’s widely accepted that he dies as well).

 Relating this back to Star Wars and the point I made earlier: the prequels are pretty much the only Star Wars media where the character’s virtues become their flaws. It’s very hubristic and I love it. Ahsoka’s virtue is in her persistence and her drive to survive while trying to do what’s right – turn it on its head and she’s unleashing Maul on a bunch of 66’d clones to escape. On first watch, Rex’s virtue seems to be his loyalty to the Republic, but that’s brought into contention in season 1. His actual virtue is his loyalty to his brothers but that’s turned on its head in episodes 11 and 12 when he’s forced to shoot and stun them and know that they’re going to die and there’s nothing he can do to save them, which almost leads to him giving up entirely in episode 12.

 And that leads me back to my main point. George Lucas wrote the prequels and most of the clone wars like the archetype of the Greek tragedy on purpose, to show the inevitability of the story.

The main parts of a Greek tragedy are as follows: Hubris (personal pride leading to a downfall)

The Chorus and the use of dramatic irony

Virtues as fatal flaws

Catharsis

 The main parts of the prequels are as follows:

Hubris (the Jedi and the Republic’s pride lead to their downfall, Anakin and Obi-Wan’s pride leads to Mustafar)

The Audience and the use of dramatic irony

Virtues as fatal flaws

Catharsis

Hope

 Back to inevitability: the use of virtues as flaws leads to the inevitability of the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker. He can’t not be loyal and caring to the point of obsession, jealousy, and overprotectiveness. Padme can’t not deeply believe in the power of human kindness and their ability to believe in a better system. Obi-Wan can’t not be wedded to the rules far too much. To take all of this away from their characters is to leave them as completely different people. An Anakin that doesn’t care as much is an Anakin that’s closer to the ‘perfect Jedi,’ a Padme that doesn’t believe in a better system is a Padme that lets even more atrocities fly under the radar in the senate. An Obi-Wan that’s not wedded to the Code and the Order and the Rules is an Obi-Wan seen in the early Jedi Apprentice books – a Jedi always on the brink of snapping, falling, or expulsion from the Order. So you see these character traits and you see what’s coming and it’s inevitable because these virtues and therefore flaws are what makes the character them, which progresses the story.

 The use of dramatic irony also highlights the inevitability within the stories of the prequels and the tragedies. The audience of the films and the chorus/audience of the plays know what the characters don’t. They know that Oedipus is Jocasta’s son. They know that Antigone and the rest of Creon’s family will kill themselves. We know Anakin will fall. We know Padme will die. We know about the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. But they don’t and that’s why the dramatic irony works so well. We’re on the edge of our seats, waiting for the moment when it all clicks – when someone listens to Fives about the chips and takes action – when Anakin gets help – where Padme survives – where Obi-Wan puts aside the Order and tries to help Anakin and reassures him. But it never happens, and we know that.

Every time we watch the prequels or the clone wars, we think ‘maybe this time it will turn out alright’ but it’s inevitable that it won’t because it’s written like a Greek tragedy and those always end in the darkest possible way.

 There’s another common thread between the prequels and Greek tragedy as well – catharsis. It’s the breaking point and the aftermath, where consequences are dealt out. The catharsis in Oedipus is obvious – it’s when Oedipus blinds himself and is banished. The catharsis in Antigone is subtler but infinitely more painful. Creon is punished for disobeying the gods and as his punishment, Antigone (his son’s fiancée), Haemon (his son), and his wife are all dead, all by their own hand. This brings him shame and it’s widely accepted that he goes off and kills himself, which is even more of a punishment (suicide was not welcomed in the Greek afterlife – they’d often go to the Fields of Punishment or the Fields of Asphodel). The catharsis in the prequels is glaringly obvious in comparison. Anakin faces massive consequences for his actions, which stay with him for the next 25 or so years. He can’t go back to the way everything was, because he’s burnt it all down around him. He’s punished psychologically and physically until his death, as punishment for his mistakes and his actions. The audience feels catharsis here as well, as Anakin doesn’t get away with his actions. His end is especially cathartic, not just because he got his comeuppance, but because he dies to undo a little bit of the horrors he’s committed.

 So the prequels and a Greek tragedy always end in tears, and the quote at the start of the Revenge of the Sith novelisation (thank you Matthew Stover) sums this up perfectly. ‘This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. The inevitability of all of these stories I’ve talked about is woven into it’s very fabric, and nothing can be done to change it.

 However, there is one way in which the prequels are different to a typical tragedy – the prequels end with a shred of hope. Tragedies have to finish with the catharsis and complete and utter bleakness and the destruction of a heap of lives – Creon’s family dies, Oedipus loses his wife and his sight, Anakin and Palpatine destroy the Jedi – it’s one of the hallmarks that makes it a tragedy and not just ‘some play by Sophocles.’ The prequels finish with Bail and Breha and Leia in the palace on Alderaan. They finish with Luke with Beru and Owen on Tatooine, where Shmi and Anakin were from. They finish with hope, which is a complete turnaround from the tragedies that the story is written to fit in with.

#lee writes #star wars #prequels #tcw #meta #anakin #padme #obi-wan #rex #ahsoka #I need a classics tag