Pgs. xxiv and xxv of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson underlines the passages which include Aristotle’s attempts at defining “tragedy”:
     “Aristotle defines it in these words: ‘Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these and similar emotions.’”
     And:
     “Hence Aristotle defines the ideal tragic hero in these words: ‘A man who is highly renowned and prosperous, but one who is not pre-eminently virtuous and just, whose misfortune, however, is brought upon him not by vice and depravity but by some error of judgment or frailty.’”

     (There is also the beginnings of a bracket mark at the bottom of page xxv, which continues onto the next page at much greater length.)

     Aristotle’s definition of tragedy is utilized by Markson, in simplified form, in Reader’s Block:
     “In a dramatic and not narrative form; with incidents arousing pity and terror.” (Pg. 177).

     This is then repeated in This Is Not A Novel on pg. 171:
     “In a dramatic, not narrative form; with incidents arousing pity and terror.”

     Pity.

     Terror.

     Tragedy.

     Pg. 163 of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson placed a bracket in the margin and underlined various phrases on the first page of the Introduction to the Oresteia of Aeschylus.

     This is often considered to be “Aeschylus’ masterpiece” (one phrase Markson underlined in the above scan).
     Yet he was no spring chicken when he wrote it.
     Like Markson, his best and most acclaimed work came later in life:
     “The Oresteia. Aeschylus was sixty-seven.”
     – David Markson, This Is Not A Novel, pg. 139.

     Yes, the Oresteia, “Aeschylus’ masterpiece.”

     Perhaps why “Karl Marx reread the Oresteia once every year.”
     (According to pg. 73 of Markson’s Vanishing Point.)

     Or:
     “Did the theorist of class struggle reread the Oresteia to immerse himself in a world that stayed coherent in spite of its being torn apart?”
     – Françoise Palleau-Papin, This Is Not A Tragedy, pg. xxxi.
     (As I considered last week…)

     Pg. 987 of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson underlined and bracketed various passages in an exchange between Talthybius and Andromache in The Trojan Woman by Euripides.

     The exchange that is partially underlined in the above scan, starting with “‘Tis their will” and ending with “But from this crested wall Of Troy be dashed, and die,” appears, abridged and slightly varied, in Markson’s last novel The Last Novel:
     “‘Tis their will—that thy son from this crested wall of Troy be dashed to death.” (Pg. 176).

     This quote is unattributed in The Last Novel, yet immediately after reciting it, Markson writes:
     “The most tragic of the poets.
     Aristotle called Euripides.” (Pg. 176).

     Pg. 957 of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson bracketed the first two paragraphs of the Introduction to Euripides’ The Trojan Women, and also placed underlines under the following three ideas:
     1) “The poet’s thought is increasingly marked by a pervading sense of disillusionment.”
     2) “The whole episode is treated brilliantly by Thucydides, who is unmitigated in his condemnation of the crime.”
     3) “Not strictly speaking a play, but rather a tragic pageant.”

     The Trojan Women gets quite a bit of mention in Markson’s masterpiece Wittgenstein’s Mistress, some of which I will relay below…

     “Irene Papas would have been an effective Electra, however.
     In fact she was an effective Helen, in The Trojan Women, by Euripides.
     Perhaps I have not indicated that I watched a certain few films whle I still possessed devices, also.
     Irene Papas and Katharine Hepburn in The Trojan Women was one. Maria Callas in Medea was another.” (Pgs. 25-26).

     “Once, when I was listening to myself read the Greek plays out loud, certain of the lines sounded as if they had been written under the influence of William Shakespeare.
     One had to be quite perplexed as to how Aeschylus or Euripides might have read Shakespeare.
     I did remember an anecdote, about some other Greek author, who had remarked that if he could be positive of a life after death he would happily hang himself to see Euripides. Basically this did not seem relevant, however.
     Finally it occurred to me that the translator had no doubt read Shakespeare.
     Normally I would not consider that a memorable insight, except for the fact that I was otherwise undeniably mad at the time when I read the plays.
     As a matter of fact I only now realize that I may not have been cooking after all, when I burned that other house to the ground, but may well have burned it in the process of dropping the pages of The Trojan Women into the fire after I had finished reading their reverse sides.” (Pgs. 38-39).

     “All of the books in the store were actually in Greek, naturally.
     Possibly some few of them were actually books that I had even read, in English, although naturally I would have no way of knowing which ones.
     Possibly one of them was even a Greek edition of William Shakespeare’s plays. By a translator who had been under the influence of Euripides.” (Pg. 45).

     “But what I am actually now thinking about, for some reason, is the scene in The Trojan Women where the Greek soldiers throw Hector’s poor baby boy over the city’s walls, so that he will not grow up to take revenge for his father or for Troy.
     God, the thing men used to do.
     Irene Papas was an effective Helen in the film of The Trojan Women, however.
     Katharine Hepburn was an effective Hecuba, as well.
     Hecuba was Hector’s mother. Well, which is to say she was the baby boy’s grandmother also, of course.
     Just imagine how Katharine Hepburn must have felt.” (Pgs. 93-94).

     “Although now what I tardily might wish I had done, while I was at the other house, was to see if any of the versions in that one-volume selection from the plays were by the translator who made Euripides sound as if he had been under the influence of William Shakespeare.
     In spite of that, one has a fairly acute inkling as to when Medea is having her period also, incidentally.” (Pg. 101).

     “Yesterday I took the books out of the carton.
     With only one exception, every single one of them was in a foreign language.
     Most were in German, in fact, although not all.
     The one book not in German or in another foreign language was an edition of The Trojan Women, by Euripides, which had been translated from Greek into English.
     By Gilbert Murray.
     I believe the person who had translated it was Gilbert Murray.
     As a matter of fact I am not now certain I looked.
     One finds that many of the Greek plays have been translated by Gilbert Murray, however.” (Pg. 164).

     “Downstairs they go, every last one of the troublesome things.
     Granting that this would in no way explain why the translation of The Trojan Women happened to be included, although surely this can be dismissed as an oversight.
     When one comes down to it there are easier things to do than filling eight or nine cartons with books.
     Filling eleven cartons with books not being one of them, in fact.” (Pg. 180).

     “Although what one doubts even more sincerely is that Helen would have been the cause of that war to begin with, of course.
     After all, a single Spartan girl, as Walt Whitman once called her.
     Even if in The Trojan Women Euripides does let everybody be furious at Helen.
     In the Odyssey, where she has a splendid radiant dignity, nothing of that sort is hinted at at all.
     And even in the Iliad, when the war is still going on, she is generally treated with respect.
     So unquestionably it was only later that people decided it had been Helen’s fault.
     Well, Euripides of course coming much later than Homer on his own part, for instance.
     I do not remember how much later, but much later.” (Pgs. 194-195).

     “And which furthermore now makes me realize that if Euripides had not blamed Helen for the war very possibly I would not remember Helen, either.
     So that doubtless it was quite hasty of me, to criticize Rainer Maria Rilke or Euripides.” (Pg. 196).

     The second page of the Table of Contents of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume Two by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson made a number of markings.
     Underlining and placing checks next to plays by Euripides and Aristophanes.

     Am reminded:
    “Once more before he dies Protagonist will read Aristophanes.”
     – David Markson, Reader’s Block, pg. 179.

     On the next page of that novel, pg. 180, Markson writes the name of one of Aristophanes’ plays:
     “Thesmophoriazusae.”

     Wonder if Markson was able to read Aristophanes once more before he died?

     Specifically, did he reread Thesmophoriazusae?

     The second page of the Table of Contents of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume Two by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson made a number of markings.
     Underlining and placing checks next to plays by Euripides and Aristophanes.

     Am reminded:
    “Once more before he dies Protagonist will read Aristophanes.”
     – David Markson, Reader’s Block, pg. 179.

     On the next page of that novel, pg. 180, Markson writes the name of one of Aristophanes’ plays:
     “Thesmophoriazusae.”

     Wonder if Markson was able to read Aristophanes once more before he died?

     Specifically, did he reread Thesmophoriazusae?

     Pgs. 1002 and 1003 of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson placed a bracket and lines next to a speech by Hecuba in The Trojan Women by Euripides.
     There is also much underlining of the passage.

     The speech by Hecuba in the above scan is about the death of her grandchild Astyanax, and how he had been murdered so that he would not grow up to avenge the death of his father, Hector.

     Kate in Markson’s Wittgenstein’s Mistress says at one point:
     “But what I am actually now thinking about, for some reason, is the scene in The Trojan Women where the Greek soldiers throw Hector’s poor baby over the city’s walls, so that he will not grow up to take revenge for his father or for Troy.
     God, the things men used to do.” (Pg. 93).

     After mentioning Neoptolemus a few lines prior, Markson wrote on pg. 142 of This Is Not A Novel:
     “Needing a few seconds to remember that it will be that same Neoptolemus who flings Hector’s infant son from the battlements after the Greek victory.”

     And then two pages later, on pg. 144, as a reminder:
     “Astyanax.”

     God, the things men used to do.

     Indeed.

     (And still do?)

     The inside front cover of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume One by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson wrote as an inscription:
     “David M. Markson

     “Markson does not wish to repeat Greek tragedy, which no longer suits our times. There is no chorus anymore, no coryphaeus leading it, no community implied in the misfortunes of a family torn by power and strife. The rule of everyone for his own has made secession irrevocable, and society has disintegrated. Today, we could only reread the Greek tragedies repeatedly, the way Karl Marx used to, according to Vanishing Point: ‘Karl Marx reread the Oresteia once every year.’ (VP, p. 73) Did the theorist of class struggle reread the Oresteia to immerse himself in a world that stayed coherent in spite of its being torn apart?”
     – Françoise Palleau-Papin, This Is Not A Tragedy, pg. xxxi.

     Did Markson likewise reread the Greek tragedies to immerse himself in a world that stayed coherent in spite of its being torn apart?

     He clearly read and studied the Greek tragedies quite a bit because there is an incredible amount of marginalia in these two volumes.

     (I decided to continue with posts from both volumes of The Complete Greek Drama, edited by Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.
     And I will continue this for the entire month of January.
     There’s just so much great marginalia in both volumes…)

     Pg. 556 of David Markson’s copy of The Complete Greek Drama: Volume Two by Various (Ed. Whitney J. Oates & Eugene O’Neill, Jr.):

     On which Markson penciled two check marks in the margin next to two lines from Aristophanes’ The Clouds:
     The first said by Socrates:
     “Zeus! what Zeus? Are you mad? There is no Zeus.”
     The second said by Strepsiades:
     “By Apollo! that is powerfully argued! For my own part, I always thought it was Zeus pissing into a sieve. But tell me, who is it makes the thunder, which I so much dread?”

     Also, Markson underlined the words in the above passage:
     “Zeus pissing into a sieve.”

     “When and where did the last person die who still believed in the existence of Zeus?”
     – David Markson, This Is Not A Novel, pg. 162.

     Zeus! what Zeus? Are you mad? There is no Zeus.

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