I happen to be a fan of both ancient literature and of most all of the surviving important Greek playwrights. So I enjoyed reading this.
It is never a bad time to get right with the classics. After having read Oedipus and Antigone several times in multiple translations (Jebb, Arnott, Fagles) over the years, I decided to read all of Sophocles’s extant plays—a mere seven out of 123 (civilization is fragile; don’t let anyone tell you differently).
I am here reading the version by poet and translator Paul Roche for Signet Classics. According to Wikipedia, Roche was a second-generation Bloomsberrie, enemy to Vanessa Bell and lover of Duncan Grant. (Was it Hugh Kenner who, with a mixture of homophobic venom and campy cattiness, described Bloomsbury as a congeries of men and women all in love with Duncan Grant?) As a translator, Roche is much less devoted to Biblical fustian than Jebb, and his verse is as simple and conversational as Fagles’s while also…
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