The Library

Second Scene

"Welcome, light of the Sun, the fairest/ Sun that ever has dawned upon/ Thebes, the city of seven gates!" [ Sophocles, Antigone, Lines 100-102 ]  

'What in God's name is this racket?' Gwen jumped out of her made shift sleeping accommodation on the couch to watch a glorious sunrise accompanied by what sounded very much like an ancient Greek chorus.

"Sophocles," a soft voice replied, so close she could feel its breath on her ear. She jumped off the couch and turned to face her morning companion.

"Antigone," he clarified. "We haven't been introduced, I'm No. 8."

"Gwen. Whitman."

"Hard name to live up to."

She mumbled, feeling ridiculous to introduce herself to an element of the set of natural numbers, and couldn't resist her curiosity.

"You don't use names?"

"We find them reductive. After all, none of us chose his name. Why should we be weighed down by its burden of significance?"

"You can change it to anything you want, can't you?" Gwen couldn't help herself.

"In time we hope to make you understand why your question makes no sense, but for now you may address us as numbers 1 through 8. There are only seven of us, by the way. We skipped No. 2, for obvious reasons."

'In time?? I really need to figure out where I am and how to get back to Sedona. These people are nuts.'

The racket outside amplified, accompanied by drumming and stomping of feet, and words declaimed in cadence by the choir.

"They're doing this for your benefit, you know," No. 8 whispered. "The English translation. We prefer the original Greek. Our small way to bid you welcome."

Gwen got up and stood in the doorway where the bead curtain whipped her legs every time a gust of wind was stirred.

The drumming amplified, and she could see now the recitation of Greek poetry was accompanied by ample gestures and exaggerated facial expressions.

One thespian was prostrated at the feet of the tragic hero, who looked stern in his stillness, and embraced the legs of the latter in an expression of absolute agony.

"No man alive is free/ From error, but the wise and the prudent man / When he has fallen into evil courses / Does not persist, but tries to find amendment." [ Sophocles, Antigone, Lines 1023-1024 ]

"Why on earth are you doing this?" Gwen mumbled, too shocked to remember social niceties.

"Why does one immerse oneself in culture? Why do anything?" No. 8 didn't understand the question. "Why do you listen to music?"

"But..." Gwen tried to protest.

"Shhh! Listen!"

"Wonders are many, yet of all/ Things is Man the most wonderful / He can sail on the stormy sea / Though the tempest rage, and the loud" [ Sophocles, Antigone, Lines 332-333 ]

"But..."

"I see we need to teach you manners first. You never interrupt a performance, for any reason! It is unthinkably rude!"

Gwen resigned herself to silence and stood for the duration of the play, getting drawn into the story and forgetting she had no reason to be there. When the play ended, the actors took a bow and started racing each other to the lively creek in the valley, where they cooled down at leisure with delighted giggles and guffaws.

They returned to the house half an hour later and threw themselves on the couches, exhausted and indifferent to the fact their clothes were soaking wet.