them out to roam wild in the
mountains. But the stranger/Dionysos breaks out of prison miraculously and encourages Pentheus to go to the mountains to see
for himself. There he is torn limb from limb by a posse of women led by his mother.
True, Saddam is not a god in disguise. But there are some other features of the Bacchae that resonate nicely with the Bush problem: it is partly set up as a clash between West and East; the older and wiser statesmen
of Thebes advise Pentheus to resist the use of force (preferring talks and a negotiated settlement); and much of the debate
hinges on the theme of Pentheus’ unwillingness even to try to understand cultural norms other than his own.
It went out on Saturday morning when the nation slumbered, just before ‘Thought for the Day’ (indeed my husband, still in
bed, thought it WAS ‘Thought for the Day’). But I’d love to know if anyone can think of a better parallel. Indeed, was mine
plausible at all?
Comments
Generally can’t hack these attempts to lend portentous epic aura to predictably crap public débâcles. Would prefer to gaze
upon them calmly without festooning them with unbecoming pity or wonder. The present predicament reminds me more of something
from Tom & Jerry than Euripides.
SW FOSKA
I’m surprised you didn’t go for something around the Trojan War – Agamemnon (Clytemnestra as the avenging Democrats, perhaps) or Women of Troy .
PAUL STEEPLES
Surely Aeschylus’ Persae ? Overweening monarch of a vast empire sees his troops overwhelmed by a tin-pot (in his view) anarchic (in his view) republic
which has incurred his wrath by interfering in the internal affairs of his empire and burning one of his cities (Sardis).
DAVID KIRWAN
Pissing on the pyramids
22 December 2006
If you venture deep inside the pyramids, as I did on my Egyptian ‘holiday’, you find that the inner chamber smells very strongly
of piss. It’s a predictable act of desecration, I guess. But it does tend to encourage a speedy visitor turnaround.
In general, though, the pyramids sprang lots of surprises. And they offered the possibility of pleasures (or transgressions)
that would be decidedly off limits back home.
Let me say to begin with that, unlike so many ‘Wonders of the World’, they do not disappoint. They are absolutely vast and,
at least if you view them from one direction, they give every impression of being isolated in the trackless desert.
Visitors are not encouraged to look the other way, where the huge silhouettes appear not against the background of the camel-dotted
sands, but against the suburbs of Cairo – and, in particular, against the distinctive colours of the Kentucky Fried Chicken
outlet (Pyramids branch). It doubles with Pizza Hut if you go upstairs.
But, smell apart, the best bit was climbing inside, right into the burial chamber of the Great Pyramid. This is what British
Health and Safety regulations would long ago have put a stop to. The climb is steep, with just a handrail and ridged wooden
planking to help you. It’s fantastically hot, even in December. And for a good stretch of the way you have to crouch down
and almost crawl along a low passage to reach the heart of the monument.
Heaven knows what would happen if you didn’t make it. There wasn’t a defibrillator, alarm, or any other of the paraphernalia
of the nanny state in sight. It makes it all seem faintly ridiculous that some governmental Risk Assessment doesn’t allow
the average visitor even to touch the stones of Stonehenge (might they fall down?), but insist that we gawp from a safe but
boring distance.
Not that the Egyptian Antiquities Service makes a visit to the pyramids any easier than one to Stonehenge. You have to buy
a ticket to get into the main area, pass through the metal detector and by the tourist police with their guns (Egypt gives
a very plausible impression of being a relatively cheery police state, ‘for your protection,