example, concerns an attempt to establish an ideal city in the sky (‘Cloudcuckooland’)
where the inhabitants can rule by controlling the food supply of both men and
gods, who are also treated irreverently in Aristophanic comedy. Despite the fan-
tastic and highly imaginative elements, a realistic picture of the life of the ordinary
Athenian citizen emerges through the distortion of the comic lens. In the Waspsand
Assemblywomen we can see how the system works. Hence the anecdote that when
the philosopher Plato was asked by the tyrant Dionysius of Syracuse about the
Athenian constitution, his reply was to send him the plays of Aristophanes. A notable
formal feature is the parabasis, in which the poet uses the chorus to break the dramatic
illusion midway through the play to speak in his own voice, sometimes to harangue
the spectators with advice of topical import that may or may not be connected with
the issues of the play. Like tragedy, comedy is a poetic form, and many of the choral
lyrics have an appealing delicacy and charm. Together with singing and dancing the
chorus (particularly the animal choruses) doubtless provided an extravagant visual
spectacle, so that considered as a whole, Aristophanic comedy is a remarkably varied
and lively phenomenon the like of which the world has never quite seen again.
The Knights, the first play produced by Arisophanes himself in 424, is a quite
savage attack upon the leading politician of the day, Cleon, Pericles’ successor as
leader of the Athenian demos, who had recently gained political kudos by his presence
at a notable Athenian victory over the Spartans at Pylos in 425. In the person of Cleon,
the general political leadership of Athens is being attacked. At the end of the play the
imperialist schemes of Hyperbolus (such as the conquest of Carthage) are denounced,
as is the general Athenian tendency to swindle the allies and prosecute the war at
all cost.
An oracle is discovered that Cleon, a seller of leather by trade, is to be ousted
from the favour of Demos (the Athenian people) by a sausage seller. One comes along
and when told of his destiny feels unworthy because he was born in the gutter, has
no virtues to speak of and can scarcely read or write. When told: ‘Come off it, you
don’t think politics is for the educated do you or the honest? It’s for the illiterate scum
like you now!’ (ll. 191–193), he is still doubtful, wondering how he can arrange the
affairs of the city. He is then reassured: ‘Dead easy; just carry on what you’ve always
done. Mix all the city’s policies into a complete hash, butter the people up a bit, throw
in a pinch of rhetoric as a sweetener, and there you are’ (ll. 213–216). He is supported
by the chorus of Knights or cavalrymen, who as men of education and social standing
are the natural opponents of upstarts from the nouveaux riches such as Cleon.
Cleon arrives and a furious shouting match (the contest, or agon develops
between them. The sausage seller contends that he is a bigger crook than Cleon; he
has been cheating his customers in the market (the agora, which can also mean
assembly) for years. They compete for the favour of the irascible and stupid old man
Demos by flattery, bribes and interpretation of oracles. The sausage seller points out
164 THE GREEKS