Sophocles' “Oedipus Rex” (lit. “Oedipus the King”) has proven to be undoubtedly one of the most acclaimed tragedies of all time, having maintained relevance in the literary canon since its composition and first performance around 429 BC Like most high-profile literary works, this tale of ancient Athens no longer exists as a single playwright's vision, but rather as a multitude of translations, each of which he put his own unique spin on the centuries-old story that every scholar now knows. so good. Among these translations are that of Thomas Gould, J. E. Thomas, and Francis Storr: three seemingly similar accounts that, upon closer reading line by line, reveal fascinating nuances in theme and characterization. Such nuances, in turn, reveal each translator's unique interpretation of the original Greek text – and more specifically of the character of Oedipus, whose moral compass and general disposition have been (and continue to be) interpreted in many different ways. We say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original EssayThose familiar with "Oedipus Rex" will remember that much of the work consists of a long dialogue between Oedipus and the blind prophet Tiresias, who is called upon to reveal the murderer of Laius and the source of the plague (which, of course , is Oedipus). The prophet is kind by nature and initially reluctant to defame Oedipus, but soon loses his equanimity due to the king's arrogance and reveals the truth. A statement by Oedipus at this juncture, as excerpted from Gould's translation, reads: "I, yes, I, Oedipus the ignorant, stopped her [the Sphinx] using thought, not the omen of birds./.. . - and the creator of the plot [Creon]--will chase away/ the pollution to your pain: you seem rather old/ otherwise you would be a victim of that plot!” (401-406) Here, Gould's Oedipus adopts an immediate tone of sarcasm through the repetition of the personal pronoun “I” followed by a self-deprecating epithet quite uncharacteristic of the usually arrogant king, calling himself ignorant, he passively criticizes wisdom false of the seer and perhaps even the false nature of prophecy in general. Such criticism is especially vile given that the gods and prophets were held in such high regard among the Athenian public of ancient Sophocles. The king then compounds his offense against the prophet alluding to his own success with the Sphinx, whose riddle he solved with mere "thought" as opposed to omen, his arrogance and disrespect here are once again unmistakable to those familiar with the ways of ancient Greece. , identifying wishing as a deeply respected practice in his era. In the following dialogue he returns to the topic with a false accusation against his uncle/brother-in-law Creon. Gould's word choice here ("plot builder") paints Oedipus in a negative, almost paranoid light, conveying the king's understanding of the prophecy as a premeditated ploy against him and thus establishing a very ironic victim complex. To further worsen the reader's impression of the king, alongside that victim complex Gould creates an equally negative revenge in the next line when Oedipus exclaims that he would make Tiresias the “victim” if he weren't so old. This jab at the seer's age concludes the monologue not only by reinforcing the protagonist's lack of respect, but also by recalling his own age in contrast to that of Tiresias; his comparative youth could certainly be equated with naivety? and the arrogance with which Gould intends to portray it. Thomas's translation constructs a different Oedipus, different enough so thata repeated analysis of the previous lines can produce a new interpretation of the character. Thomas' Oedipus reads: "I, the idiot Oedipus, stopped her, working with the intellect, not learning from the birds./... I think that both, you and he who invented these things, will ."I regret / your need to purify the earth, but if you / were not so old, now you would know what these words bring” (418-423). This Oedipus immediately appears more tender than Gould's and perhaps more sympathetic to readers. It opens with an equally self-deprecating epithet but excludes the repetition of the pronoun, thus slightly toning down the sardonic tone. His tale of the Sphinx thus expresses a familiar arrogance and disrespect towards prophecy, but does so in a less threatening way, and the first words of the next line ("I think") then continue to soften the tragic hero; although they may seem insignificant at first glance, the verb “to think” lends a critical touch of humility to Thomas's Oedipus, suggesting a degree of uncertainty that unconsciously prompts readers to praise him for his unexpected malleability. For the most part, the rest of his monologue is fairly straightforward and is devoid of much of the negative emotion and vengeful passion present in Gould's Oedipus. Thomas's Oedipus speech is calmly delivered - devoid of exclamations or interjections - and his descriptions are considerably less rash and direct. Creon, for example, does not become an explicit "cocter", but rather a more ambiguous "he who planned these things", and the king does not want to make Tiresias a "victim", but rather give him the consequence that his "words "[I] earn[ed]." The threat here is just as present as in the last translation, but this idea of ​​“earn[ing]” evokes a sense of justice to mitigate its harshness. The reader, given his prior knowledge of the story, he will probably find it difficult to love any Oedipus, but he might at least feel more sympathy for Thomas's tragic hero than for his translational counterparts Storr's Oedipus, though it takes on a life of its own, its own, certainly might described as a sort of middle ground between the two that preceded him. The analogous extract of this final translation reads: “I, the simple Oedipus, have stopped her mouth with my maternal ingenuity, devoid of omens./ … I think you and your favorite will soon regret/ Your plot to drive away the scapegoat./ Thanks to you gray hairs who have yet to learn what punishment such arrogance deserves” (399-404). This Oedipus opens on a more subtle note, choosing a relatively light descriptor (“simple”) and still adequately conveying a somewhat sarcastic tone. The arrogance and disrespect proceed as expected towards the Sphinx, but he now attributes his success to the “motherly spirit”. The theme of motherhood here is a clever incorporation on Storr's part; given that Oedipus's real mother brings him exactly the opposite of success, the irony of her boast may elicit sympathy—or at least laughter—among readers. Like Thomas's Oedipus, Storr's expresses an admirable hint of uncertainty with its choice of verb (“he thinks of me” being an archaic equivalent of “I think”). He also possesses a trace of the emotion and indignation most present in Gould's translation, stating that Creon and Tiresias should repent of their "plot" (again, indicating premeditation) and comparing himself to a "scapegoat." The description of his disputants as “arrogant” is something unique in Storr's translation and concludes the monologue brilliantly, understanding the almost too ironic nature of everything the tragic hero seems to say and do. He, as the reader may recognize, is in fact the one hindered by arrogance, and he will also be a..