Dying Acts explores the relationship between the dramatic representations of death in two societies where elaborate rituals make death and dying a part of the process of living, in a way that is now alien to most modern Western societies. But it is not simply the shared conception of death that makes a comparison between the Greek tragedies and the Irish plays, written some two and a half thousand years later, both a valuable and instructive task. The fact that mythical material - just as in classical Greece - forms the basis for many Irish plays written during the Literary Revival also makes such a comparison useful. Moreover, the writers of the Irish tragedies discussed - notably Yeats, O'Casey and Synge - explicitly turned to the Greek tragedians as 'exempla' in their attempt to found a national theatre. The Irish hero Cuchulain was regularly compared to the Greek heroes Heracles and Achilles by Celtic scholars, no less than by the playwrights themselves. This wide-ranging study uncovers the genuine affinities which do exist and examines the political and social context of their works. It is a subtle and intelligent exploration with unexpected and rewarding conclusions.
I'm definitely not biased. This is a genuinely fantastic piece of scholarship. Meticulous as Fiona always is, clear, and highly intricate, it takes us through a number of modern Irish plays and ancient Greek tragedies with equal ease in both areas, functioning as a truly interdisciplinary moment of classical reception. I was fascinated - particularly with the introduction, which taught me about Medieval Irish reception (something I had never even considered before, and which strongly contradicts the perceived upper-class / imperial hegemony over Classics (that has been later dispelled by Hall & Stead's (again, not biased...) A People's History of Classics: Class and Greco-Roman Antiquity in Britain and Ireland 1689 to 1939). I will be sad to see Fiona leave Oxford, despite the fact that I'll be leaving with her. She is a fantastic APGRD director. She is a fantastic academic. And she is an all-round fantastic person. I will be forever grateful for her direction, and her gentle encouragement of (and funding of) my own dramatic exploits. My Hippolytus is, in many ways, indebted to her.