In this book D. argues for a reassessment of the standard view that choruses of old men are automatically lacking in authority. For D., choral authority depends rather on the relationship between chorus and ruler: ‘the extent to which a given chorus is actively involved in decision-making seems to be informed more strongly by the chorus’ relationship to the ruler than by an a priori categorization of the chorus’ identity’ (p. 3), a point reiterated throughout the book, which consists of four chapters discussing Oedipus at Colonus, Heraclidae, Hercules Furens and Agamemnon in a shared chapter, and Antigone. Each may be read as a self-contained study of a particular play or plays.
D.’s short but informative introduction sketches Greek attitudes to old men, noting that their wisdom as advisors and excellence as speakers is traditionally valued, especially in epic, in spite of their physical shortcomings. The wisdom that they are presumed to have gathered during their lives makes them a natural resource for citizens seeking advice. D. argues that where choruses have a close relationship with sympathetic rulers, they can act authoritatively as befits old, and therefore wise, men.
Chapter 1's discussion of Oedipus at Colonus is programmatic for the book as a whole, since the OC’s chorus is the most powerful chorus of old men in extant Greek tragedy: they have both a special civic status as Theseus’ advisors and a religious status as protectors of the Eumenides’ grove. One of D.’s most enlightening methods of interpretation, which first appears in this chapter, is an exploration of the role of poetic metre in underlining authority and sympathy (or their opposites) between rulers and choruses (pp. 26–34). In this chapter and elsewhere, he also imagines, sometimes speculatively but never implausibly, possible visual effects of gesture and costuming on the portrayal of choral authority.
This chorus shares old age with Oedipus but their political status is higher and they command Theseus’ respect. Because of this, they are able to make decisions to help their suppliant in Theseus’ absence. D. argues that their empowered relationship with Theseus enables them, though old, vigorously to defend Oedipus against Creon, and that complaints from old choruses that they are hampered by physical weakness essentially reflect their political weakness in plays where they lack their ruler's respect. While his thesis is convincing, D. somewhat underplays the fact that Creon is also an old man, so he is surely easier to withstand: even allowing that he comes with a retinue (p. 23), surely an entire chorus would outnumber them, and ultimately it is Theseus, not the chorus, who expels Creon. It was surprising to find no detailed discussion in this chapter of OC 1211–48, where the chorus laments old age, not only for Oedipus but for themselves (1239), suggesting that there may be some limits to empowerment, even for this chorus.
The chorus of the Heraclidae has much in common with that of OC. Though old and theoretically feeble like their suppliant Iolaus, with whom they feel fellowship, they are strong enough as a ‘proxy army’ (44) to protect him from foreign oppressors before more capable help arrives. D. shows that in Demophon's absence, they are the city's main authority, and that they can even surpass their king in righteous authority, when they deter him from striking the Herald (60).
Chapter 3 considers Theban (HF) and Argive (Agamemnon) choruses. D. notes the extreme emphasis of the chorus at the beginning of HF on their physical feebleness, underlined again by metre, this time a ‘plodding’ catalectic iambic (p. 84). Like the chorus, Amphitryon is portrayed as old and useless: this chorus and its suppliant are very similar in identity, contrasting with the Athenian plays which exhibit a combination of a weak, foreign suppliant elder and a strong chorus of elders. D. argues that this chorus lack vigour and agency, not because of their age, but because of the power dynamics between ruler and chorus: Lycus is a foreign usurper supported by Thebes, so that the chorus are automatically marginalised and isolated. But as Lycus begins to meet justice, their feebleness is remarkably forgotten, supporting D.’s contention that the physical decrepitude of old age in choruses functions as a metaphor for political suppression. Once the usurper is killed, the action of the play moves towards a new future for Heracles in Athens, so that the Theban chorus fades into the background and plays little part thereafter. Here and elsewhere, D.’s findings align with F. Zeitlin's well-known characterisation of the political opposition of Athens and Thebes in tragedy, with Argos as a middle term, as he argues that Theban dramatic settings facilitate tyranny and precipitate politically unresolved futures.
D.’s discussion (pp. 91–106) of Agamemnon 1346–71 effectively analyses the role of each individual voice of the chorus in their gradual movement towards decision making. D. argues that their increasing sense of solidarity is connected with an increasing emphasis on their identity as advisors of the city. Agamemnon's death necessitates that they must be decisive to protect their citizens, and their persistence eventually forces Clytemnestra to engage with them and explain her actions: D. shows that they are not as ineffectual or indecisive as is sometimes argued.
D.’s chapter on Antigone sketches a shifting power dynamic between Creon and chorus: although the Theban elders are summoned by Creon at the start of the play, only at its end do they perform a proper advisory role. Their apparent passivity and ineffectuality at first arises from the play's ruler–chorus dynamic, as Creon merely wants their assent rather than the advice proper to such a chorus. D. argues that an alliance between the chorus and Teiresias (another old man) is fundamental in finally moving Creon to seek genuine counsel from them. He also has some good remarks on the chorus’ relationship to Antigone, explaining their notable ambivalence towards her through their choral identity. As Creon's advisors, they blame Antigone for flouting his power, but their commitment to Oedipus’ children (Ant. 168–9) also causes them to sympathise with her.
This book is important for the many individual insights it offers, as well as its main argument that ‘old’ need not mean ‘marginal’. That said, occasionally the argument is overstated: the choruses of the Attic plays certainly differ from those of other cities, but especially in OC, the chorus is dependent on Theseus for any real decisions or full protection of the suppliant, which surely does marginalise them somewhat. A lengthier discussion of gender in the ruler–chorus dynamic would have been useful: what sort of interplay might there be between the status as males that the chorus share with their rulers and their contrasting physical frailty? An expanded treatment of two other claims made by D. would also have been welcome. He frequently (pp. 2, 19, 46) describes choral inaction in the face of more powerful forces as a ‘performance metaphor’ for the strictures laid on choruses by the conventions of Greek tragedy. This is an important observation which has much potential application to other choruses, and a fuller discussion of its implications might have broadened greatly the volume's scope. Similarly, D. often uses the term ‘politico-ritual’: the dual civic and religious power of the chorus of OC made this a useful term in the first chapter (p. 15 n. 4), but elsewhere it is used less precisely and the relationship between the political and the ritual is not always clear. There are a few misprints, especially around pp. 92–6, but nothing serious.
