I studied ancient Greek plays for a while. At the time I remember being fascinated by the tragedies. Not especially because of the plays themselves but more because of the concepts of hubris and catharsis that were considered to underpin them.
If I remember correctly the general flow of these plays was that the main character would commit some grave offence, at least in the eyes of the gods, and would then be punished in the most egregious way. Seeing all this the audience was supposed to be reminded that hubris (upsetting the gods) was a bad thing, be very relieved that the gods didn’t hate them as much as the main character and would be all the better for it (catharsis).
How far this really played out with ancient Greek audiences I don’t really know. Personally, I remember feeling that the tragedies of ancient Greece became an operating model for the villains of James Bond. When faced with a prophecy about their offspring killing them and marrying their wife the subject of said prophecy would attempt to remove the threat in such a manner as to ensure there was an opportunity for the child to survive and fulfil the prophecy. In much that same way that countless Bond villains have forgone shooting him in the face in favour of leaving him in a poorly locked room with plenty of time, and all the necessary tools, to figure out how to escape from an overly engineered execution.
Reading the synopsis of the book, “two local potters and a group of prisoners of war put on plays by Euripides”, took me back to my studies and piqued an instant interest as to how a modern author would treat the subject matter. Part of me wondered if the author might take a tongue in cheek approach to the subject, and so I pressed play on the audio book.
I was transported to Sicily, 412 BC, in the aftermath of an unsuccessful Athenian invasion. The prisoners of war are so numerous they have been left to starve in quarries until a pair of local potters, both obsessed with the theatre, see an opportunity to put on Athenian tragedies.
The story is beautifully written and leans into the careful structure of the ancient dramas, even including a truly fascinating Deus Ex Machina who probably deserves his very own book. There can be no happy endings and the best endeavours of men to aspire to greatness above their station inevitably fall short, yet there can be joy and even comedy in the most dire existences. However, Ferdia still creates a truly fascinating and engaging tale full of unexpected turns that balance light with dark, and hope with despair. The characters are richly written and beautifully layered, no-one is perfect, each succeeds and fails within their own talents and shortcomings. What brings the characters together so well is the articulation of the world they live in. Every part of their world is explored from slavery to fashion, from love to loss, and a book about a couple of old plays becomes an exploration of the human spirit.
I don’t remember much of Oedipus or the Bacchic Women (Apuleius’ Golden Ass was much more up my street), but Glorious Exploits will stay with me for a very long time to come. I would highly recommend this book.
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