Translation

why monologues?
The typical audition for stage actors lasts three minutes: 16 bars of a song, and a short monologue. Depending on the play, actors select either a contemporary monologue or a classical one—usually from Shakespeare because his plays are easier to find. Yet plays from antiquity are loaded with classical monologues too. The problem is they’re often translated by, well, stodgy scholars with little regard for modern actors. Which is where Deme Creative Arts swoops in.

why him?
In graduate school, Demetra began translating classical monologues from ancient Greek tragedies. She selected monologues spoken by female characters, which led her to Euripides. Of his 90+ plays, less than 20 survive. Euripides wrote from the female perspective, an approach not exactly embraced by other ancient playwrights. He portrayed powerhouse women: Hecuba, Clytemnestra, Medea. Their distrust and rage is palpable, no matter the style used to translate their monologues.

why not literal?
Scholars adhere to a strict translation of ancient drama. This word-for-word style is arguably more accurate, but inarguably more esoteric and therefore less accessible to modern actors and audiences. As poet/translator Octavio Paz said, literal translation “is a mechanism, a string of words...a glossary rather than a translation.” Instead, the grammar and syntax of the source text must be simultaneously translated and transformed.

why literary?
Literary translation, in contrast, captures the intent and emotion of the original text. It remains devoted to a character’s anguish and elation, while infusing the aesthetics of creative writing into the dialogue. As poet/translator Willis Barnstone advised, we must “be loyal to the meaning, art, and spirit of the source text.” Despite a writer’s best attempts, literary translation is a dance with diction and doubt, with awkward phrases and unfamiliar expressions.

Take, for example, an expression that occurs in at least two of Euripides’s plays: “to tug at your beard.” Weird, right? Within the historical context, however, we learn it is actually an affectionate gesture where kids lovingly grab their dad’s facial hair. Still weird? Not to anyone with toddlers.

Even monologues translated in a literary style require in-depth study and historical awareness on the actor’s part; they should read the entire play, identify their character’s objectives in each scene, and not only make sense of but believe in every line of dialogue, whether unfamiliar to them or not.

Let’s demo a translation of lines 1146–47 from the play Iphigenia in Aulis, spoken by Clytemnestra:

what’s the ancient Greek?
“ἄκουε δή νυν: ἀνακαλύψω γὰρ λόγους,
κοὐκέτι παρῳδοῖς χρησόμεσθ᾽ αἰνίγμασιν.”

what’s the literal?
“Listen binding now: I uncover speech,
no longer will I proclaim hinting obscurely.”

what’s the literary?
“Now listen. I will speak plainly.
No more hints or riddles.”

Here’s another translation of line 1392 from Iphigenia in Aulis, spoken by the title character:

what’s the ancient Greek?
“εἰ βεβούληται δὲ σῶμα τοὐμὸν Ἄρτεμις λαβεῖν,”

what’s the literal?
“wish / but / body / my / Artemis / receive”

what’s the literary?
“Artemis wishes to receive my body.”

Hold on. So in the play, Iphigenia learns that instead of marrying Achilles, she is actually getting slaughtered at an altar dedicated to goddess Artemis so daddy can sail his ships to Troy. As a literary translator attempting to capture the spirit of both vengeful Artemis and young Iphigenia, “wishes to receive” sounds way too pleasant. Let’s replace it with a more powerful verb:

“Artemis demands my body.”

Δ

will we relate?
Slaughter. Revenge. Sacrifice. These are dark themes. Whether translated literally or literarily, whether spoken by the most skilled and studious actor, will these classical monologues be comprehensible to a modern audience? How can we justify the actions of these ancient characters? How can we fathom their grief and suffering?

Deme Creative Arts wants to unearth these answers. In 2025, nearly 2,500 years after Euripides etched his tragedies onto papyrus, Demetra is seeking actors of any age and gender to perform her translated monologues. If this project speaks to you, then voice your desire.

let’s excavate antiquity