THE VIRTUE OF BLINDNESS AND THE REJECTION OF REASON
But what causes the gods to deem the man they had previously condemned worthy of such rewards? The first explanation that suggests itself is that the gods take pity on “this wretched phantom of a man, Oedipus” (109—10).
Before, Oedipus was “renowned to all” as the hero who saved Thebes from the monstrous Sphinx (Oedipus the Tyrant 8, 35—48). Now, “everyone in Greece” knows him as the man who killed his father and slept with his mother (Oedipus at Colonus 595-7, 203—36, 299301, 510—45). Oedipus the Tyrant opens with the illustrious ruler of Thebes addressing his admiring subjects, “children of Cadmus,” who look to him to save them from a terrible plague, just as he saved them in the past from a terrible monster (1—57). Oedipus at Colonus opens with Oedipus addressing his daughter, “child of a blind old man,” and asking her for guidance as they wander from city to city, begging for food and shelter (1—13). The Oedipus we see as the play opens is a man without a city, without a home, and virtually without a family. He has fallen as low as it is possible for a man to fall, much lower than he fell when he fled Corinth as a youth. For Oedipus then was strong enough to kill five men single-handedly and wise enough to solve the riddle of the Sphinx. Now, he is unimaginably weak, unable to protect himself, and even ignorant of where he is (see Knox 1964, 145; Segal 1981, 365—6).The weakness of Oedipus is epitomized by his blindness. From the opening scene to the scene in which Creon and his soldiers seize Oedipus and his daughters, the play reminds us over and over again of the pathetic weakness of a man who must live in perpetual darkness, unable to walk or sit by himself or to defend himself and his loved ones (1-32, 144-202, 299-300, 493-502, 800-886, 10961109). If Oedipus were not blind, he would still be shunned, but he would be able to take care of himself as he did after he left Corinth.[44] It is his blindness that renders him most clearly helpless and pitiable.
His blindness undercuts the indignation that the audience might feel if we saw the man famous for having committed patricide and incest hale and hearty before us. In the course of the play, the chorus, Theseus, Polyneices, and even Creon express pity for Oedipus (254—5, 551—9, 1254—66, 740—52). Perhaps the gods take pity on him as well, as one who has suffered enough, and more than enough, for his crimes.Yet pity alone would not suffice to explain the gods' change of heart towards Oedipus. Insofar as the gods reward him, they must believe he positively deserves a reward, indeed the great reward of everlasting well-being. More importantly, insofar as Oedipus's suffering is caused by his blindness, it is a suffering that he inflicted on himself (see 551—4, 866—7, 1197—1200). Even though he did not choose to commit incest and patricide, he did choose to blind himself and thereby chose the life of a helpless man. If the gods do finally reward Oedipus, they must to some extent reward him for blinding himself. But why should the gods reward a man for blinding himself?
To address this question, we must first ask another: is the blindness of Oedipus simply a sign of weakness? The inability to see is, on the simplest level, a terrible weakness. Oedipus does not know where he is, where he walks, where he sits. Yet, when Oedipus had sight, when he was the strong and wise ruler of Thebes, he was utterly ignorant of his native land, his parents, his crimes, and therefore, in crucial respects, ignorant of himself. He had eyes, but he could not see. And Teiresias, the blind prophet of Apollo, somehow knew these crucial facts about Oedipus. As Teiresias puts it in Oedipus the Tyrant: “You have sight but you do not see in what evil you are, nor where you dwell, nor with whom you share your home” (413—4).
One might conclude that Oedipus was ignorant simply because he lacked the information — who his parents truly were — that would have enabled him to figure out for himself, rationally, either how to avoid committing the crimes of incest and patricide in the first place or, later,
must not be that old in years in Oedipus at Colonus.
Wilson remarks that Oedipus “accelerates time by prematurely blinding, and thus aging himself” (1997, 181; see also Zeitlin 1986, 129). For the dramatic importance of Oedipus's blindness, see Edmunds 1996, 39-48, 57-8, 63-9.that he had committed them. But Teiresias suggests that Oedipus's ignorance has a deeper cause. When Teiresias tells him, “I say that it has escaped your notice that you are consorting with your dearest ones most shamefully, nor do you see where you are evil,” Oedipus declares that Teiresias has no access to the “strength of truth” “since you are blind in your ears, your mind, and your eyes.” But Teiresias responds: “You are wretched, making these reproaches which soon all will make to you” (366—73). Teiresias suggests here that it is Oedipus who is blind in his “mind,” that it is he who is blind — albeit metaphorically blind — in his whole understanding of the “truth,” of the true world, and therefore that he is much more profoundly blind than Teiresias, who is merely blind to the world that the senses reveal.
Teiresias points to the cause of Oedipus's “blindness” in their exchange over his success in solving the riddle of the Sphinx. Oedipus declares that the soothsayer of Apollo and representative of divine wisdom failed to solve the riddle of the Sphinx and that he, Oedipus, solved it through reason alone (390—8). He thereby suggests that there may be no need for divine guidance since unassisted reason is sufficient to safeguard humans from such monsters as the Sphinx. Indeed, as we noted in Chapter ι, Oedipus evidently ruled successfully for some fifteen years without ever consulting oracles or soothsayers. But Teiresias suggests that it is precisely Oedipus's confident belief in the sufficiency of human reason to guide our lives that has blinded his mind.
Teiresias: This day will beget and destroy you.
Oedipus: How very much do you say all things in riddles
and uncertainties.
Teiresias: Are you not by nature best at discovering these
very things?
Oedipus: You reproach me for such things in which you
will find me great.
Teiresias: Nevertheless, this very luck has destroyed you.
(438-42)
Teiresias suggests here that Oedipus's confidence in reason, a confidence based on the mere “luck” that enabled him to solve the riddle of the Sphinx, has destroyed him because it has blinded him to the inner truth about the world: the fact that the world is ruled by gods whose assistance is indispensable to us. The capacity to see the visible world is at least potentially blinding because it tempts us to believe that we can understand the world and fend for ourselves by the natural light of reason alone, without the help of a higher power. Sight tempts us to the sin of rationalism. Conversely, to be blind, as is Teiresias, is illuminating, for it teaches us our all-too human helplessness and our desperate need for divine assistance, and therefore reveals to our minds the folly of rationalism and the truth of piety.
The blindness of Oedipus in Oedipus at Colonus, then, is not merely or primarily a sign of his weakness but of his wisdom. The blind Oedipus sees what the seeing tyrant had failed to see: the truth of the gods and his need for the gods. The heretofore proudly enlightened ruler is now emphatically pious. He affirms the justice of the gods (1380—2), declares his singular devotion to Apollo and Zeus (605—28, 642, 791—3), and makes no mention whatsoever of his triumph over the Sphinx (539—41). Oedipus now repeatedly addresses the gods and invokes the gods because, in his darkness, he beholds the gods and gives himself entirely to their guidance (44—5, 49—50, 83—110, 275— 91, 421—4, 1010—3, 1124—5, 1370—96). As he tells his daughters at the end of his last scene in the play: “This way, thus, this way, go. For this way he brings me, Hermes the Escort and the goddess of the underworld. Light, no light, though once before you were mine, I suppose, now for the last time my body grasps you. For already I walk, to hide, finally, my life in Hades” (1547—52). Oedipus, who had boasted of his triumph over the Sphinx through reason alone, now blindly lets the gods lead him into Hades.[45]
Oedipus at Colonus resembles no one in Sophocles' Theban plays more than Teiresias.
Like Teiresias, Oedipus is superlatively pious, speaks in riddles, and curses his enemies without restraint.[46] Most importantly, like Teiresias, he is blind, and his blindness seemingly enables him to grasp a deeper dimension to the world, inaccessible to the senses or to the inquisitive mind, but visible to the trusting and pious heart. Like Teiresias, Oedipus understands that the blind man is the pious man par excellence, because he is the man who can see past the outer appearance of the natural world and grasp its inner, divine truth.[47] It would thus seem that, as a result of discovering that he has killed his father and slept with his mother, Oedipus has whole-heartedly abandoned his rationalism and taken Teiresias as his model. Indeed, Oedipus's piety may surpass even that of Teiresias. For, unlike Teiresias, Oedipus blinds himself. He chooses to be blind. He consciously rejects the guidance of the senses and reason. Oedipus's blinding of himself symbolizes his attempt to reject reason altogether. By destroying his eyes, he attempts to destroy his mind and surrender himself entirely to the gods.It would seem, then, that the gods reward Oedipus with the greatest of rewards, not because they pity his blindness, but because they recognize its virtue. They reward Oedipus precisely for his pious rejection of rationalism. On the surface, the Oedipus at Colonus, together with the Oedipus the Tyrant, presents Sophocles' celebration of piety over reason. For the plays seem to teach that, while Oedipus's attempt to lead his life according to reason ends in disaster and misery, his rejection of reason and his blind faith constitute the path to redemption and salvation.[48]