Zachary Smith

ENGL 101
Dr. Patrick Keats
December 7th, 2010
THE WORSHIP OF POWER

To Whom It May Concern,

It has fallen upon me to take up this sad state of affairs. It seems that it is my fate to be
tied to the line of Oedipus once again, either by some unfathomable gift or some more obvious
punishment. Alas, this is not the time for poetic musings on my own fate, for your time must be
short, considering the increased rate entering your hall here in Thebes. Why this is so, though it
intrigues me, is not my concern at the moment; I have been given the sad task of recommending
our lord, our leader, our father, Creon, for admittance into your asylum for the mentally unstable,
on the event of his recent suicide attempt. While it may pain me to speak of this, it would seem
that this destination is the true climax of his life, and that every moment that came before,
whether it be the fall of Oedipus, the tragedy of Oedipus’ two sons, or the even greater sorrow
that befell Creon’s very family, was arranged by the gods to lead to it. Since your asylum
demands a thorough description of patients, I am prepared to present to you much of my own
first-hand knowledge of these sad events, and of the tragic tale of Creon, king of Thebes.

While most of Creon’s life is known to the people of Thebes, for the sake of this letter,
much of it must be reiterated so that certain events might come into a greater light. Related to
the late King Laius of Thebes, and thus to Oedipus, Creon retained temporary control of the
throne twice before finally taking it as his own. Whether he had control of the crown or not did
not seem to matter much to Creon; whatever the state demanded was what he truly cared about in
the end. Only when no other option remained did he accept a permanent lordship over Thebes,
and with his first action, his view of the state as the first priority became ever more apparent.
Before he at last took full control of Thebes, the throne had been split between the two sons of
Oedipus, Eteoclos and Polynices. Such power has the ability to drive men mad – you should
know this better than most – and civil war eventually erupted between the two, with Polynices
choosing to revolt against the powers of Thebes for control of the city. Only in death did the
terrible bloodshed end, with Polynices and Eteocles dying in each other’s arms, a terrible vision
of irony and death that only the gods could have arranged. Taking the throne in the absence of
any true heir, Creon saw only one beneficial course of action for the state to take in the aftermath
of the war – a great celebration to be held for Eteocles for his valiant efforts in defending
Thebes, and for the body of Polynices to be left to rot outside the gates of Thebes. For Creon to
announce such a decree was an unprecedented action; whether we agreed with it or not did not
matter. The revelation that he would put the honor of Thebes above the boy he had practically
raised as his own son was the first, great sign of just how far Creon would go to protect the
integrity of the city to which he had been entrusted.

This action would turn out to be only the first drop of rain, however. In defiance of his
decree and in order to honor her family, Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, went out and buried
the body of her brother, Polynices. When taken into custody for her actions, she did not even
seem to regret her disobedience against her guardian, but instead boasted of it to his face.
Though fond for the girl, and of her betrothal to his son, Haemon, Creon refused to break away
from the laws of the city, and had Antigone sentenced to death by live burial. Before being taken
away, however, Antigone cast one more die in this game of wills, making it quite clear to Creon
that, by putting the state above all else, he had succumbed to committing acts that would
otherwise disgust him, such as letting the closest thing he had to a daughter be buried alive,
simply for trying to do honor to her deceased brother. Whether it was this dagger from
Antigone, or the warning he received from the blind prophet Teirisias concerning the wrath of
the gods for the desecration of the body of Polynices, Creon seemed to have an anagnorisis of
sorts, and seemingly came to see how the actions he had performed for the good of the city were
beginning to tear not only his family apart, but the city of Thebes as well. While this might seem
to be a hyperbole on my part, simply look out your window and see the civil unrest already
growing among your brethren. But I am becoming distracted again, and your comprehensive
“description” is not yet complete. Trying to set things right once more, Creon went out to bury
the body of Polynices and retrieve Antigone from her imprisonment, but by now, it was already
too late. The girl he could have called his daughter had hung herself rather than die on Creon’s
terms, and her lover, Haemon, already in the cave desperately clutching her lifeless feet, tried to
kill his distraught father in a rage, before finally taking his own life. But this was only the first
horror to befall Creon on that day. It was at this point that I entered the tragic tale, for it was I
who ran into Thebes to announce the deaths of Haemon and Antigone, of which Eurydice, dear
wife of Creon, heard all. It was I who later informed Creon of his wife’s suicide, and how she
had cursed him with her final breath. It was I who destroyed Creon, and thus brought ruin and
unrest into Thebes. Even after all this misery, the state still commanded Creon, and he soon left
the scene of his wife’s destruction to attend a cabinet meeting. Perhaps it was for this very
reason that Creon attempted his own suicide during that very same meeting, finally seeing how
his willingness to put the state above his family had eventually cost him everything, even his
own family.

Why it fell upon me to have the sad duty of condemning Creon to this asylum is
unknown to me, but, perhaps, maybe I too should share a cell with Creon for the misery I
wracked upon him. But….but these are the words of a broken man; please bear them no heed,
but instead turn your attention back to Creon. If one were to enter the now-prison of his mind, it
might be discovered that Creon tried to justify his actions by saying that he had a duty to the city
over which he held lordship. Such words, though, ring hollow to the ears of the many, and lack
the heart and soul needed to make these actions right. He may have been our lord, and a loving
man, but alas, Creon succumbed to the very power to which he paid much worship, and that god
has cut him down as swiftly as the sands of time cut down us all.
 When I first read the different topics available to us for this final paper, my mind was
enraptured by the concept of an asylum admittance letter, and immediately I began to envision
where I might go with this idea. As I sat in my room considering it, I saw my worn copy of
Antigone on a shelf nearby, and suddenly it struck me like a lightning bolt from the very hand of
Zeus: what if Creon attempted suicide after the events of Sophocles’ famous tale? This was all it
took to make my creative juices begin to flow, and within hours my idea came to fruition in these
very pages. Through the writing of it, I came to a deeper understanding of the book and of Creon
himself, and how, even though he is a man to be respected, his placing of the state above even
his own family is a tragic flaw that cannot be overlooked.