Wisdom is Mortality

“Knowledge is not wisdom: cleverness is not, not without awareness of our death, not without recalling just how brief our flare is” (16). The Chorus describes wisdom as the elucidation of our mortality. By knowing this we gain power almost of immortality; we at least can live our life simply, humbly, without fear perhaps of the unknown (since we would know). Pentheus is young; perhaps this is why he cannot fathom death as a possibility in his life; this is the folly of youth- we are invincible for a few short years. This is such a contrast to Cadmus, who is aged, wizened, hoary; he understands such that he prepares for his death: he has made Pentheus his successor, he is concerned with his legacy (a form of immortality), and he properly fears the Gods because they have the power over his life. He frets over Pentheus and his daughter, knowing that they might bring ruin on themselves since they are unbelievers. They cannot know the power of the Gods, who do not know death and therefore do not empathize with those who are mortal. Respecting the Gods is respecting death, and life; it is respecting the frail balance of chance, teetering each day with dangerous possibilities. It’s interesting though to have a God wreaking havoc. Dionysus does not know death, even though he is associated with it. He cannot know the inevitable threat, since it does not hang over his life; in fact, his life is a non-life, since life exists only with death. “What is wisdom? What is nobler than to hold a dominating hand above the bent head of the enemy? The fair, the noble, how we cherish, how we welcome them” (37). To be aware of one’s own death must bring one to the realization of everyone’s death. Is that perhaps why it is nobler, to hold your hand over your enemy’s head, as opposed to having a bent head under your enemy’s hand? You have triumphed in wisdom! You have avoided that which your enemy is fated to! You also know death, without having to experience it. You have caused death to come, not on your own life, but on another’s unfortunate soul. You see it happen; you witness the last shuddering breath yet you live. It is almost as though you have fooled death and life together. Perhaps this is why we cherish the noble: they have possessed wisdom; they are the heroes of our cultures. However, when it is not an enemy killed, as in Agave’s case, then the outcome is banishment and suffering. Unless you are a God. Does Dionysus obtain wisdom? He cannot die, therefore how can he know how precious life is? Dionysus’ actions seem cruel, merciless; he is unbound by death yet he takes advantage of beings, which are. He causes a mother kill her son; he causes a faithful old man to lose his kingdom, all for the sake of his name. To Dionysus, his name and honor are far more valuable than human lives. He would kill them all if it brought honor to his name! This to me seems not wisdom. It is immaturity. Though the Gods may have more power, and are therefore to be revered, they do not have wisdom. They cannot care about their own lives; hence they must care about their names. With each human death, that they may cause, they only further the process of life in another species. They are forced to watch or perhaps manipulate life. They cannot partake in it. They are sad beings; they will never know value, importance, beauty because they cannot know the risk in loving these things. They can never truly taste the nectar as a human might because they cannot imagine a moment without it, because it will never come to them. For a few moments of glory, is the destiny of humans; it seems far more preferable than an eternity of boredom.