Antigone: Retold

In what ways does your chosen retelling of Antigone help you to understand the concepts of creativity and transformation in literature?

Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie is a retelling of Antigone in the form of a novel, taking place in the modern-day UK and its political climate surrounding Muslim communities, primarily concerned with the radicalisation of marginalised youths and society’s treatment of them. In transforming the familiar plot points from the ancient Theban context to the modern-day, Shamsie has clearly made several creative decisions that alter or eliminate some aspects of the original play, especially regarding the characters. Most of the characters in Home Fire resemble another in Antigone, albeit with different names: Antigone becomes Aneeka, Polynices is Parvaiz, Creon is Karamat, and so on. This distinction in names between the original and retold characters gives it a sense of originality while signalling to its source—it allows the reader to recognise that Shamsie’s characters, though they may play a particular role in the story, is a person of their own.

Aneeka is not Antigone simply transferred over to a different background. Instead, she seems to have a distinct personality and driving motivations to her actions entirely, perhaps influenced by her position in this world. Rather than being the daughter of an incestuous king and queen, Aneeka is the younger daughter of a jihadi father. Although not explicitly mentioned in Antigone, she is implied to be the dutiful, devout older sister in the original play. Yet, Aneeka is the wildly passionate, wilful younger sister that contrasts the cautious, prudent Isma in Home Fire. Aneeka also has a special connection and affection for her twin brother, Parvaiz, who has been close from birth and throughout childhood. Thus her action of wanting Parvaiz buried in the UK seems to be less motivated by duty and religious right as in Antigone, but more from a fierce familial love towards Parvaiz. As Eteocles does not exist in Home Fire, this further complexity of brothers killing one another is removed. Removing certain elements, like the incestuous parents or the familial conflict (between Eteocles and Polynices, Polynices and Oedipus, Creon and Antigone), allows Shamsie to focus on other thematic concerns. The readers’ sympathy is transformed in this retelling in a favourable way for Aneeka. A criticism directed at the original Antigone is that she is far too harsh and severe in her treatment of Ismene or too absorbed in religious fundamentalism. Antigone, as a character, is far more political than Aneeka. She embodies the struggle between humans and divine power and the conservative view that Sophocles took in a world where everything man-made and philosophical, rather than religious, started to flourish. But Aneeka’s actions are not motivated by some political or ideological agenda but motivated by familial love, something that readers can universally empathise with. By reversing the natural power dynamic derived from age between Aneeka and Isma, Aneeka’s anger is also made more palatable, and her character more sympathetic as a whole.

Therefore, the central conflict of Home Fire is between the political and personal, rather than between different ideologies like in Antigone. In the latter case, a modern audience of Antigone may as well scoff at her devotion to religion and the gods or even say that she is seeking recognition and self-fulfilment. It is far more challenging to do so to Aneeka when she seems so young and passionate in her love, and her dedication seems more innocent, even pure. Aneeka becoming a more sympathetic character is in line with what Shamsie intends to convey as a thematic concern, which is the societal and political marginalisation against the Muslim community that only fosters the radicalisation of those like Parvaiz. If Aneeka is more sympathetic, then Parvaiz is made more sympathetic by extension—not necessarily entirely condoning his choices, but understanding the societal structure and the reasons behind it. His character also given far more depth, such as his creative side as an aspiring sound engineer. Through this, Shamsie brings in the long-standing debate of nature versus nurture into the story, which bears some thematic similarity to Sophocles’ concern over fate versus free will, but nonetheless fundamentally different. This may even transform the reader’s thinking and opinions in the context of real-world issues, viewing these people as individuals, as humans. Hence, this reveals an interesting dimension of how the author/playwright’s creative decisions can move the readers/audience in a specific direction and the power of art. As a conservative and religious playwright, Sophocles emphasised the importance of adhering to divine law, while Shamsie, as a Muslim with both a Pakistani and British background, can convey her own message through this novel.

Furthermore, creative transformation in Home Fire does not occur only in its background and characters but also in its form. Perhaps it is the most notable transformation, as Antigone, a play performed in an amphitheatre to a Greek audience, becomes a novel intended for modern readers. It is interesting to find similarities and differences between the two forms and where certain elements may overlap in function. Though maintaining a third-person perspective, Home Fire has multiple narratives, starting from Isma all the way to Karamat. This provides a deeper insight into each individual character, and far more nuance is given to them as a result. Because it is not a first-person perspective, there is still a degree of objectivity possible while providing more personal, intimate observations of each character. Additionally, whilst traditional Greek theatre, including Antigone, took place in a single day and a single background, Home Fire takes place in a more extended period, and the multiple narratives enable Isma to be in the US, Aneeka in the UK, and Parvaiz in Syria. The novel format also allows for Shamsie to input pages amidst regular chapters that include Twitter trending hashtags, newspaper articles, tabloid feature-like reports, and more. These pages perhaps serve a function not dissimilar to the chorus in Antigone; although a literal group of old men does not announce the public sentiment to the audience, the inclusion of the wider world surrounding the main characters of Home Fire reveals the social and political attitudes to the Muslim community, which is passively aggressive at best and wholly discriminatory at its worst.

In essence, I think the retelling of Antigone through Home Fire reveals how stories (and anything requiring creativity, really) are not static in nature; it instead morphs from one thing to another, as the producers and consumers of literature change through both time and form.