This full cast recording of Racine´s play used the public domain translation by Robert Bruce Boswell which, as I mentioned in my review of the Kindle edition, wasn't very good.

I also found that a few of the "players" had difficulty matching the text to the meaning (pausing at the end of a line of text when the pause was inappropriate, for example). ( )

Read & listened to the LibriVox recording 4 December 2016
My rating reflects the translation by Robert Bruce Boswell more than Racine's tragedy. The play I liked enough that I have requested the Richard Wilbur version from the library. ( )

Greek families! Histrionics, rash reaction instead of considered response, inability to control emotion. Tragedy.

THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN CURTAILED IN PROTEST AT GOODREADS' CENSORSHIP POLICY

See the complete review here:

http://arbieroo.booklikes.com/post/334827/post

Bonus GR only bit: So if Goodreads was ever a family, it's now clear that it was one that escaped from a Greek Tragedy. It's fairly obvious that all the things in the first sentence of this review can be applied to the GR family - the only questions now is how many corpses are going to pile up as the Tragedy unfolds and whether we can summon a Diety to resolve the conflict for the future...no sign of Athena yet, more's the pity. ( )

What a powerful tragedy about forbidden love! And what a difference reading this Richard Wilbur translation made in my enjoyment (I had read/listened to the public domain translation a few weeks ago).

And Phaedra makes such a contrast to whiny Gwenevere in The Mists of Avalon (which I recently finished); like Gwenevere she knows her love to be impossible but she doesn't blame either the man (Hippolytes) or her husband (Theseus). And even in her jealous rage, she doesn't really blame Aricia either. ( )

It is stated in the introduction to Phèdre that Racine did not intend to challenge any of the conventions to playwriting with this work, but merely write the strongest possible play while adhering to the established structure of five act dramatic tragedies. Because of this, the play Phèdre by Racine and Hippolytus by Euripides are similar, not only in subject matter, but in structure as well, despite being written over 2,000 years apart. Unfortunately for Racine, this allows a direct comparison between the plays, and for me Hippolytus easily comes out on top.

Racine makes Phèdre a longer play, focusing on the passions that are driving the characters, and adds a plotline where Hippolytus and Aricia fall in love and attempt to elope. The longer length means that things that happened in the heat of the moment in Euripides’ play (and made sense in that context) are stretched over a longer span of time (and therefore defy common-sense). Euripides’ Theseus believes the accusations against his son only when he finds a note alleging them clutched in the cold hand of his wife, who has just killed herself. In a rage, and with his wife’s suicide putting her accusations almost beyond reproach, he curses his son and seals his fate. Racine’s Theseus believes accusations brought against his son by his wife’s nurse, and holds onto them stubbornly while one character after another tells him the accusations are false. “Can nothing clear your mind of your mistake?” asks Hippolytus. Obviously not, for the sake of the story, but such a refusal does strain credulity. Racine also has characters take other actions that aren’t very believable, and his commitment to making his characters voice their motivations draws attention to just how unbelievable these actions are. Toward the end of the play Hippolytus states “[l]et us trust to Heav'n my vindication, for the gods are just.” No they aren’t, and Hippolytus should know this based on the earlier parts of the play (and nowhere is Hippolytus previously portrayed as stupid or naïve). Euripides would never have written such a nonsense and cliché line.

The Hippolytus-Aricia subplot must have been added as a crowd-pleaser, because it adds little to the story. There are thousands of plays about forbidden romance, death separating young lovers, and everything else this plotline does, and it distracts from the play’s portrayal of a woman’s love spurned and a father harboring such rage for his son that he calls on the gods to kill him. Alicia’s introduction changes Phaedra’s actions to ones of jealousy just as much as uncontrollable passion, and thus waters down an interesting character. In general Phèdre does a disservice to the character Phaedra, giving many of the key actions to her nurse instead of having Phaedra perform them herself. It is the nurse Oenone who makes the accusations against Hippolytus, which absolves Phaedra of blame in his death but also turns her character into one doomed always to react and never to act of her own volition.

Euripides’ take on this tale is the better one, and is one of his strongest plays. Comparatively, Phèdre is less impressive, and despite Racine’s attempt to imbue the characters with uncontrollable passion, in fact he turns them duller than they had been for the 2,000 years before him. It’s not bad, just not as good as the classic version. ( )

A Greek tragedy by Racine, a web of interlocking and tragic loves and misunderstandings propels this play from beginning to end. Although I enjoyed Andromache more, this was also a pleasure from beginning to end. And like Andromache, added greater psychological depth and complexity to characters caught in what would otherwise appear to be the inevitably unfolding clockwork gears of their fates. ( )

Why do modern authors insist on retaining both the characters and the predictable outcomes of these ancient dramas? Racine's French prose is great but the story fails to excite.

I loved this. Racine makes one big change from Euripides: he blames Phedre's false accusation mostly (though not wholly) on her nurse, instead of on her. Coincidentally, that's the one thing that really stuck out for me in the original: I found Phedre's final accusation jarring, unearned and unexplained. So...nice job, Racine!

He also throws a love interest for Hippolytus in, though, in order to make him a little less...y'know, above it all. This was less successful. I think he'd have achieved the effect more cleanly simply by having Hippolytus acknowledge some attraction to Phedre.

And I have now managed to second guess Euripides and Racine in two paragraphs. You know who else wasn't that great? Shakespeare. Yeah!

*ahem* Translation review: not so great. Rawlings delivers with the original French on preceding pages, which is terrific but also serves to make obvious her own shortcomings. Her translation is loose, and it ignores the rhyme of the original. Richard Wilbur manages the same rhyme scheme with ease in his Moliere translation. I'd heard that he failed hard when he attempted Racine, so I didn't read it. With hindsight, I'd give him a shot - or recent dead Laureate Ted Hughes, who also attempted it. Without anything to compare it to, Rawlings' interpretation is functional but not great. ( )

When is one guilty of something, when one commits the reprehensible deed, and only one knows it, or when it is made known to others?

Phèdre thinks that the latter case is a great deal worse, worse even than death:

je meurs pour ne point faire un aveu si funeste
je n’en mourrai plus, j’en mourrai plus coupable

And so probably did Racine, because in his Phèdre, the action is activated by Phèdre’s avowal of her guilt which she makes three times. These three long soliloquies are amongst the most famous parts of the play. She is guilty of loving her stepson and she acknowledges this to her “confidente” (Oenone), to her stepson (Hyppolite), and to her husband (Thésée). These three confessions trigger the drama that unfolds irremediably fast, bringing the tragic downfall of both guilty and non guilty.

But the interest of this play is not in the plot, but in the themes that Racine so lyrically develops. Love coupled with jealousy as a fatal damnation. Treachery as the worst ignominy that can be suffered and inflicted. Choices that remain captive and render Destiny unavoidable. And expectedly in Racine, the power of the word as the vehicle for the human soul.

Racine’s tragedies are distilled drama. They are tragedies at their purest in which there is the very minimum of extraneous material. Respecting the three Aristotelian units of one place, one theme and one unit of time (one day), Racine also added the typically 17th century French concept of “bienséance” or “propriety”. He approached the three units by emptying them as much as possible. The place is no place, but just an enclosing undefined lieu that traps the tragic heroes and heroines in their own disarrays. The action takes place elsewhere and the messengers just inform the enclosed heroes about them. The resulting single action we see acted is no action at all, but the soul’s suffering them (in a way similarly to Baroque opera in which the recitatives tell the story and the arias sing the feelings). With so much material stripped out, then everything can happen quickly. We end up not been aware of whether it all happened in one day, or in an accelerated, condensed and immeasurable eternity. On the stage are left the abstract concepts that do not resolve.

For Phèdre has remained guilty.

I have reread this play as a complement to reading Marcel Proust’s La recherche du temps perdu as part of the 2013: The Year of Reading Proust Group. And since it is a play I have sought to watch it acted out. I found this DVD http://www.amazon.co.uk/Phèdre-DVD-Dominique-Blanc/dp/B0002T279G/ref=sr_1_1?ie=..., and therefore my review will comment on this production as well.

I should add that, sadly, this is the only filmed production of a Racine play that I have been able to find. Are they commercially so unattractive? When I lived in Paris I was on a budget but was willing to stand and queue, for sometimes close to two hours, to be able to get the cheapest tickets (FF12.-) for the Comédie Française performances (Corneille, Marivaux, but mostly Molière and Racine). In one year I did not miss one single production.

I am lucky that I have seen some wonderful productions of Racine at the CF then. The stage settings were bare. The accoutrements for emphasizing the Drama were almost only the costumes that the characters wore, with their flowing tunics and floating capes and veils. They were simple but made out of absolutely exquisite materials. Contrasting hues in the clothing paralleled opposite personalities while subtle gradations in color tones marked allegiances. Only tenuously would they distract from the declaimed verses. The acting was selective. Racine’s characters do not move abruptly nor do they gesticulate while they converse. They do not need to touch since they reach each other with their words. Racine’s heroes and heroines are walking and speaking souls.

When in this DVD Phèdre first appears on the stage as a crouching and limping neurotic woman I was shocked that this could be a Racine Queen. I had been expecting a dignified dame whose august and majestic body carried the full weight of suffering in a stately manner. Phèdre is most famous for her remarkable and very long monologues, known to be so difficult to deliver well that they can make or unmake an actress. It seems that theatre critics count their career in France by the number of Phèdres they have attended. The legendary Sarah Bernhardt was unforgettably photographed in this role.



But this unappealing first entrance of a broken and bent Phèdre in my DVD is, furthermore, followed by somewhat hysterical characters who shout at each other their love and longings. Their incensed and broken sentences and undue emphasis at invented syncopations ruins Racine’s verses and rhyme.

For Racine was a master of the Alexandrines, the twelve syllable verses with a clear caesura in its exact middle. His iambic hexameters establish a cadential rhythm which measures an even pace. True, at selected times he breaks and joins the verses with a skillful “enjambement” (the continuation of a thought in the following verse) that has an effect of an accelerated train of thought, but this enjambement ought not to interfere with a mellifluous enunciation of the lines. His verses should have the lulling effect of a hypnotic lullaby.

In the DVD production, with its broken chants and histrionic acting, a worthy exception is Théramène’s account of Hyppolite’s death. Were a film director of Steven Spielberg’s kind get hold of Théramène’s speech, it would be inflated it into a fantastic rendering of monsters, seas opening into abysms, and a hair-raising run of frenzied and desperate horses with a fatal consequence. Instead, true to Racine, a sad man, barely moving, declaims this succession of horrors, without blinking, depicting with only words the dreadful scene that gradually sinks the listening father into an unavoidable sorrow. What a wonderful speech.

It is not surprising that Racine’s selected use of words and exquisite ability with the Alexandrines would fascinate someone as careful and sensitive to the power of language as Marcel Proust. We have Proust’s explicit admiration for the way Racine could twist the very formal structure of his verses and with a broken syntax add ambiguity and richness to his meaning. These examples he gave are from Andromaque:

Pourquoi l’assassiner, Qu’a-t-il fait? A quel titre ?
Qui te l’a dit ?

But it was the poignant portrayal of guilty love in Phèdre that obsessed Proust. And it is this play, which he knew in its entirety by heart, that he has associated to his fictional actress La Berma and which figures in La recherche repeatedly.

--------------------------

After this wonderful reading I will proceed with the rereading of more plays by Racine and with the listening of Rameau’s Opera, Hippolyte et Aricie.

( )

a tragic play , Explores the Depths of the Human Soul ...
fascinating in its complexity.....

Phèdre the young and second wife of the king Theseus, fall in love with his son Hippolytus,her obsession disrupts her,she was losing her mind, sees Hippolytus everywhere. her offerings and prayers to change destination was in vain.....
she had Hippolytus exiled,and dismissed him from her presence.... However, she soon discovered that she could not remove his love from her heart. It remained. So she wished for death as the only way to end her Destined Love and, to punish herself for her betrayal and forbidden and cursed love......
but the sudden announcement of Theseus' death changed everything,she gives up her suicide plan and decided to enjoy life again .......
She lost control over herself and confess to Hippolytus her secret and passionate love, her confession has had an unexpected result,he has no pity on her and was in disgrace because of her shameful confession......
Theseus' return. And stopped the false rumors of his death,At first, Phèdre panic,again threatens suicide,but knowing Hippolytus's crush on the princess Aricia. her hysterical rage ,fear and jealousy make her leave Oenone(her nurse) accuses Hippolytus of attempting to seduce
her, Theseus is completely deceived. Theseus believed her and cursed Hippolytus with one of the three curses he had received from Poseidon. As a result, Hippolytus' horses were frightened by a sea monster and dragged him to his death.....
Phaedra feels guilty , she felt a total horror of herself, Recognizing the atrociousness of her crime, and the excruciating pain and feeling of disgust ,she declared the innocence of Hippolytus,and then committed suicide.......

( )

Made me want to read more Ted Hughes. Never thought I would say that. ( )

For this edition Jean Salles has written an introduction (the French theatre in the 17th Century, the life and work of Racine, about the history of the tragedy etc.), annotated extensively the text and selected comments on the tragedy by prominent writers. The edition is obviously meant for use in preparation to the French bac; all this is a great help for those readers for whom French is not their first language. (V-11)

A Greek tragedy by Racine, a web of interlocking and tragic loves and misunderstandings propels this play from beginning to end. Although I enjoyed Andromache more, this was also a pleasure from beginning to end. And like Andromache, added greater psychological depth and complexity to characters caught in what would otherwise appear to be the inevitably unfolding clockwork gears of their fates. ( )

The price ($1.98) was right for this short play as I was trying to find a combination of books that would satisfy me and not exceed the $10.00 budget I gave myself at the used bookstore. It’s a piece with five acts that takes place in ancient Greece, with Phaedra being the wife of Theseus and stepmother of Hippolitus. Hippolitus is Theseus’ son by Antiope, the queen of the Amazons. Phaedra is in the grips of an impossible and shameful love for her stepson, and is suicidal because she really doesn’t see a way out: her feelings are too strong to suppress, and she knows that the object of her love is forbidden to her. Hippolitus also holds a forbidden love for Aricia, heir to Athens and persona non grata in Theseus’ eyes. He also doesn’t see how he can confess his love to his father, considering that Aricia is a blood representative of Theseus’ enemies. In the early stages of the play, stepmother and stepsons’ situations run parallel, with both of them interacting with their servants and confidantes. Both characters reluctantly admit their forbidden loves to their servants, and are advised on how best to proceed. Then, rumors of Theseus’ death throw an interesting twist in the situation and cause both characters to reconsider their situations and their impossibly strong feelings of love. Secrets are confessed, lies are told, and, this being a tragedy, the ending is not a happy one.

I enjoyed reading the alexandrine verse that Racine employs here. I have a very one-sided relationship with French, with most of my contact with the language coming through books. It was therefore fun to read the rhymed lines to myself, and I thought the rhythm of the characters’ verses made the play flow nicely, and was very enjoyable. I also liked the story and the strong presence of the Greek gods in the lives of the characters. It was interesting to see these specific moments in the lives of characters that are either famous and immediately recognizable in my mind (Theseus), or related to other gods and men of note (Phaedra is the daughter of Minos and one of her grandparents is the sun, Helios). The play illustrates a dark episode in Theseus’ life, and considering that I have a hard time remembering just what Theseus did besides slay the Minotaur, it was nice to be exposed to another part of his life. The mythology, the interplay between gods and men, and the faint familiarity of the characters were all appealing to me, and the play was beautifully written as well. I was absorbed in the story, happily reading the entire play in one sitting this morning.

I’m excited by this, one of my initial forays into 17th century French theatre. I’ll continue to seek out plays from this era, because I find that they compliment the Siglo de Oro plays from Spain that I greatly enjoy. ( )

I found the plot intriguing, but I have never been fond of reading plays and the format turned me off. ( )

I had a hard time with the inevitability of Phaedra's love for Hippolytus - I'm not a believer in love that you can't resist. This play demonstrated to me the importance of integrity. Phaedra knew what she felt was wrong - but she "gave in" to to the bad advice of her confidant and destroyed the lives of all those around her. While the story may seem old and out of touch with the modern world, I find it particularly timely given our modern inclination to just follow our desires without regard to who may get hurt. ( )

Racine's tragic dramatization of the Theseus-Phaedra myth is very classical in form and style. He reads more like a Jonsonian tragedian than a Shakespearean one. The play is full of long speeches of florid, classical language, and all of the real action in the play occurs off-stage. Still, the emotion of the main characters--Phaedra, Theseus and Hyppolitus--shines through the language and brings the characters to life. The more minor characters like Phaedra's maid are less well drawn (a weakness in this play because Phaedra's maid is the catalyst for much of the language). I enjoyed the play well enough to seek out other works by Racine. ( )

Let's see: thwarted love, betrayal, implied incest, heinous lies, father-son love triangle with wife/stepmother, and a whole lot of death at the end. Um, yeah, that's the recipe for a pretty awesome story. Phaedra, married to Theseus, has always nurtured a secret love for his son, Hippolytus. When she receives news that Theseus is dead, she finally confesses her love to Hippolytus, who is in love with Aricia and is disgusted by his step-mother's advances. But, hey, guess what? Theseus isn't dead and returns just in time for all Hades to break loose . . .

Soap operas have nothing on ancient Greek drama. Plus, on All My Children, you never get a half bull/half dragon sea beastie sent by Neptune to torch our hero into a crispy critter before his horses go mad, crash the chariot, and then drag him to death. ( )

Absolutely hilarious modern translation (performed in NY) of a Frenchman's rendition of the Greek tragedy. Each main character has one exceptional part: Aricia, Hipplytus, Phedre, and Theseus. The story of Hippolytus' death is told very clearly relative to the Greek, with Neptune coming out of the sea after Hippolytus slays the beast. ( )

it's just an euripides fanfic innit ( )

5

Since Rawlings' translation was just okay for me, I'd like to get back and check this out at some point. Besides, the cover is way cooler.