Mar 19, 2005
A Lifelike Death
A few weeks ago my Ancient Civ class discussed Antigone. I though it was the perfect play to assign to the class. Women’s roles, legitimate authority, fate and man’s agency. Moreover, the play perfectly complimented the previous week’s reading, the Book of Esther. Antigone also resonated with me personally because it dealt with familial deference and obligation.
The class discussion stalled on Kreon’s arbitrariness: his decree that no one may bury Polyneices. Leaving aside the nature of kingship for a moment, I tried to explain why a decree on one person would contradict law based on universal principles. One example came to my head: a Florida woman, suspended at the moment of death, for whom special laws and procedures were made. The example was successful, moving the discussion back in the direction that I wanted. Much to my chagrin I realized later that my students foremostly identify Antigone with Terry Schiavo.
At the time I did not think of the comparison in political terms. There appeared to be no partisan action to keep the woman on life support. I prefer to remain apolitical in the class, insisting that lessons can be learned from studying the material directly rather than searching for historical examples to prove political positions. Congress’s actions, however, force me to make comparisons. Tiresias said to Kreon,
Keeping Schiavo on life-support, in defiance of her husbands wishes, regardless of whether or not he knew the wishes of his wife, is an inversion of life, death, and even family. And Congress undertakes this for political reasons, jealously holding onto the authority it commands. Moreover, I am disturbed that these same people who claim to defend life and family attack the husband, insinuating that he abused her in her waking life.
These actions leave open all sorts of new questions: if medicine can keep the body physically alive, must families do so? Must husbands and wives who cannot support the ongoing care for spouses’ in permanent comas endure the deprivation of their meaningful deaths? Will they lose custody of their spouses’ bodies, forced to watch them undergo numerous procedures without resuscitation? If so, will they use this excessive standard to support an expansion of health care for the living? Will there ever be a point where the law recognizes that there is no longer an inspiration to live?
The class discussion stalled on Kreon’s arbitrariness: his decree that no one may bury Polyneices. Leaving aside the nature of kingship for a moment, I tried to explain why a decree on one person would contradict law based on universal principles. One example came to my head: a Florida woman, suspended at the moment of death, for whom special laws and procedures were made. The example was successful, moving the discussion back in the direction that I wanted. Much to my chagrin I realized later that my students foremostly identify Antigone with Terry Schiavo.
At the time I did not think of the comparison in political terms. There appeared to be no partisan action to keep the woman on life support. I prefer to remain apolitical in the class, insisting that lessons can be learned from studying the material directly rather than searching for historical examples to prove political positions. Congress’s actions, however, force me to make comparisons. Tiresias said to Kreon,
“thou hast thrust children of the sunlight to the shades, and ruthlessly lodged a living soul in the grave; but keepest in this world one who belongs to the gods infernal, a corpse unburied, unhonoured, all unhallowed. In such thou hast no part, nor have the gods above, but this is a violence done to them by thee.”
Keeping Schiavo on life-support, in defiance of her husbands wishes, regardless of whether or not he knew the wishes of his wife, is an inversion of life, death, and even family. And Congress undertakes this for political reasons, jealously holding onto the authority it commands. Moreover, I am disturbed that these same people who claim to defend life and family attack the husband, insinuating that he abused her in her waking life.
These actions leave open all sorts of new questions: if medicine can keep the body physically alive, must families do so? Must husbands and wives who cannot support the ongoing care for spouses’ in permanent comas endure the deprivation of their meaningful deaths? Will they lose custody of their spouses’ bodies, forced to watch them undergo numerous procedures without resuscitation? If so, will they use this excessive standard to support an expansion of health care for the living? Will there ever be a point where the law recognizes that there is no longer an inspiration to live?