“Liberty is too precious a thing to be buried in books, Ms. Saunders. Men should hold it up in front of them every single day of their lives and say ‘I am free to think and to speak. My ancestors couldn’t but I can and my children will.’ Boys ought to grow up remembering that. ”
-Jefferson Smith, Mr Smith goes to Washington
With a few minor edits that speech could easily end up in a production of Antigone. Perhaps I simply had the play on my mind since we go into tech next week and I was at a run through of the play this afternoon. But watching Mr. Smith I was struck by the parallels between the two texts. Both stories are a kind of David and Goliath set in the political realm. One in ancient Thebes, the other in early twentieth century United States. But in their essence the same story.
The film feels very dated. And it is difficult to watch today without an overwhelming sense of the naivete coming from the work. The minor corruptions of a few greedy land owners pales in comparison to a government and political machine willing to send young men and women to die for their own malicious and unpatriotic ends. The purposeful and material support of terrorists by the Bush administration makes the antics of Paine and Taylor look like childish games.
And yet, the deep sincerity of the film shines through its historical context. The underlying meaning behind the work is strong enough that while it might not compel at the literal level, it certainly strikes to the core of the issues facing this country today.

In a similar way Antigone does this. The story of standing up to authority in the name of what is right and just is about as old a story as can be. In Sophocles, we see an injustice righted through the tragic heroics of Antigone. The Anouilh play, which is the one I am dealing with, is a much different issue. Anouilh speaks to the futility of human action. In his play the characters are not individuals taking action in the world. Rather they are characters written into roles they must play out. Autonomy does not exist save as fully embodying that inherent inauthenticity.
The result of such a text is that the very relationship between the audience and the two lead characters, Antigone and Creon, is reversed from that of the Sophocles. In Sophocles we understand the virtuous and tragic plight of Antigone while Creon is like a monster, cruel and vindictive. Anhouilh calls this very thing into question and asks us to consider what is the nature of action today. What does it mean to ‘Act’? What is Authenticity?
Antigone feels at a first read to be clearly in the wrong. But upon closer analysis she is only ‘wrong’ insofar as every one of us who is attending the performance, or reading the text, have had to make the very kind of sacrifices that she is asked to make. We are like Senator Paine, who may have done some good in his time in the Senate, yet is willing to compromise to get things done. The logical extension of that compromise, of course, is the engagement in wholly illegal and ethically wrong actions.

“What will my happiness be?” asks Antigone, “Tell me, who will she have to flatter, who will she have to lie to, who will she have to sell herself to? Who will she have to let die as she looks away?” To those of us living in the world, trying to negotiate through the many and various things it takes to just make it through the day, we must compromise somewhere. Yet Antigone, like her modern counterpart Jefferson Smith, will not compromise. They will not “play ball.” They will accept only the true and direct actions of the Authentic.
In the face of that, if Creon still sounds right, if Joseph Paine still sounds right, perhaps the problem lies not with the actions of the Davids of this world, but with the values of Goliath. None of us are immune to these values, and on their surface they sound almost reasonable. Antigone almost goes back to her room, Smith, almost returns to his state. But in the end, the truth must be spoken, no matter what the personal consequences might be.