While nations rise and fall, they are measured by the art they create and leave for future generations. The seminal dramatic story dramatized by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides deals with the curse of the House of Atreus. The finale of this tale as conceived by Aeschylus in Eumenides tells of the pursuit of Orestes by the Furies for the killing of his mother, Clytemnestra, and her lover, Aegisthus. Seeking refuge at Delphi, he is told by the god Apollo that he must stand trial before twelve citizens of Athens. The Furies serve a prosecutors, Apollo speaks in Orestes' defense and Athena is the judge. When the jury deadlocks at six apiece, it is Athena, goddess of wisdom, who sprang full grown from Zeus head, who casts the deciding vote for acquittal. Her decisions is based on compassion and the need for closure. This is, indeed, the defining moment for humanity. For civilization begins at the point where the cycle of blood lust and revenge — an eye for an eye — is replaced by man's trust in government — a system of laws — to mete out justice instead of allowing each individual to seek personal retribution for perceived crimes.

This past September at the Getty Villa in Malibu, Sophocles' Elektra — a play that dramatizes Orestes return and act of revenge — was performed in the museum's open air amphitheater. A remarkable evening in which ideas transcended time and space. The Athenian civilization perished, as you note, with Sparta's triumph in the Peloponnesian War more than 2400 years ago. Yet their ideas and ideals are alive today because the honesty of the art they created and left behind still resonates within us.

Similarly, the American experiment will survive as long as we, as a nation, continue to protect the freedom of artistic expression. All art exists as a commentary on the civilization that produces it. It remains for us to embrace or reject the artistic visions of our age and act accordingly. As always, our fate lies within our grasp if only we have the will to seize it.

Thanks Adam for this reminder about the importance of culture in slyly determining our political future. Brecht wasn't so sure that Aristotelian catharsis would be enough to galvanize action. Perhaps more was needed than off-stage eye-plucking. But it saddens me that so many people "don't get it,"– what you're saying. Why should I give money to someone who puts the Cross in a beaker of piss? Because I'm giving money to dozens of artists, some who will put the cross on a hill, while others put it up someone's butt. I'm not betting on one horse, I'm betting on the creative energy of the race (no pun intended), on the tribe, on the nation. Bertrand Russell wrote that every civilization faces a crisis after a few hundred years, and so far, no civilization has ever passed the test, because their own internal cultural mechanisms mitigate against making the creative change necessary for the next transformation– I guess something like Vico's spiral–we go in circles, but not upward, and then the torch is passed to another civilization, which in time, will fail to make the crucial choices necessary for the next transformation, and once again, the torch gets passed. I'm pessimistic about American civilization, but not about our culture. We may be in the middle of a Silver Age, but is it possible to avoid an age of "Iron and Rust," (Roman Empire 2nd-4th centuries), or can we leap back in leaping forward to another Golden Age? The big picture, as Bush above said, sweeps like a mild breeze over the workshop of the artist, who can only contend herself with the next sentence of her play, the next line of her poem, the next brush of paint on her canvas. I am always brought back to how solitary and lonely this making of art is, no matter how big and collaborative it gets. No stock manipulation, no cathode ray, no transistor chip, just words. Even before "theatre," the blind poet with his staff, asking the goddess to sing her song through him. As William Carlos Williams said: "So much depends on a red wheelbarrow filled with rainwater standing beside the white chickens." And so much depends on that one sentence, that one line of poetry, that one brushstroke. Whatever the odds of success, the artist must push forward, nevertheless, alone.

The depth, perspective and intelligence of all these comments leaves me speechless. Thank you all for contributing to this discussion!

Great article! I completely agree. I was a Greek philosophy major in college, and wrote my thesis on the Aristophanes comedy Ecclesiazusae (The Congresswomen) about what would happen to democracy if women took over congress. Theater not only inspired democracy in Athens, but was a very healthy outlet for the necessary examination of that democracy.

Terrific insights I will incorporate into my law and graduate business class at Syracuse on the history of property and tax from ancient Athens to modern America.

More, please. How about a book length treatment of this idea? Or at least an essay worthy of a spread in TNYRB?