'He that is not with me is against me'
Seamus Heaney's latest book, The Burial at Thebes, seems like an odd progression from his recent collections of poetry, which have been broadly categorised by a reduction in overtly political material.
In both translating Sophocles' 'Antigone', utilised by Tom Paulin and Brendan Kennelly among others, and more generally adopting classical myth to enfranchise political resistance, it would seem that Heaney is going over old ground.
Although he has never before published from a translation of Antigone's tale, the powerful message of resistance associated with the play is found similarly in North (1975). The large gap between the two works, during which time Heaney has produced (mostly) less politically loaded translations, make the decision to undertake the commission from the Abbey Theatre, which marks its centenary, an interesting one. This is compounded by the rejection of much of North in the comprehensive selected poems Opened Ground; Poems 1969-1996.
The relevance of The Burial at Thebes to Heaney's politically charged earlier works is clear but is markedly different to that of other translations of Sophocles' 'Antigone'. As well as the obvious similarity of works fostering the hopes of political dissidence there is another point of continuity between this and Heaney's earlier work. There are a number of familiar traits in the Chorus of the play and these immediately suggest a personal relevance of the group to Heaney himself. The first of these techniques is the persistent alliteration, seen from Death of a Naturalist (1969), which
prompted comparisons with Gerard Manley Hopkins and with Anglo-Saxon Literature, a link made more obvious with his translation of Beowulf (1999). In that translation Heaney adopted the diction of 'his people'. He spoke about this in his introduction to the translation, utilising his 'word hoard' to articulate the Anglo Saxon text in a dialect of Modern English.
Although the innovation in style associated with the techniques Heaney uses here are lost, used for the second time, their impact is not. More so than The Cure at Troy (1991) it defines the place of a well known text in modern fiction. Crucially it is more sensitive, both to its origins and audience, than the translations that proceeded it.
Echoes of his earlier works are so strong, both in style and content, that Heaney is clearly saying something about his role as a poet. Rather than in Sweeney Astray (1979), where Heaney's own voice found its way into the text, prompting criticism, the incidence of it here encourages comparison with his earlier poetry and indeed the discussion he so advocates about the text's subject.
For Heaney, previously characterised by proclamations such as 'whatever you say say nothing' and the admission that he was 'cauterized' by terrorist attacks, The Burial at Thebes seems shocking in the depth and openness with which it talks about political resistance. Made all the more open by the repeated use of the play as an allegory of sectarian resistance, Heaney now condemns not only oppression, but those who are silent in the face of it. His view of politics as well as poetry has moved on from earlier grounding points. In his recent appearance at the Oxford Literary Festival, Heaney quipped that the book could have been called 'An Open Letter to George Bush'. Clearly he believes that the resonance of a character such as Creon does not need to be updated, as his poor judgement is abundantly in evidence in the modern world.
The Burial at Thebes demonstrates that Heaney can comment but do little more, as he points out through his Chorus. His view of the part he plays in politics has developed from that shown in North and Sweeney Astray. The play is a brilliant companion to both but in its similarity looks dangerously like it is meant to supersede them. Although a fascinating break from Heaney's political silence it must be read alongside his earlier work to be properly appreciated.
22nd Apr 2004