Chorus: You are the state, you are the people.Rule unquestioned, you controlThe altar that is your country’s hearth;You fear no vote; by your mere nodYou, monarch on one throne, decide all issues:Therefore, guard against guilt.
Aeschylus’ The Suppliants. Chorus of the Danaids addressing King Pelasgus, ruler of Argos.
So compelling is the drama of Aeschylus’ Orestain Trilogy that it will be treated with attention paid to the strong female character of Clytemnestra. I realize that I treated the play Agamemnon before, and I shall treat it again with more depth in this entry. In addition to Agamemnon, I will examine The Eumenides, the third play completing the circle of the Trilogy.
The story of Clytemnestra and her husband, the King of kings, Agamemnon, requires establishing some historical and mythical background in order for us to truly understand the happenings that the Trilogy revolves around. Therefore, necessary data will be provided, in the briefest form possible, to bring understanding to a closer range, and this entry will serve as prelude to the actual analysis. Do not despair if you find the ancient Greek names difficult, you may replace them with modern names in your head if this helps you understand the story. The depths of the drama are eternally meaningful, patience in reading this entry will be rewarded with unfailing knowledge.
To relate bits of the history of Greek “Olympian” Gods, it is crucial to learn that the regular names one hears of, Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Athene,and the others, were not at all times in Greek history the rulers of the universe. Before them came two generations, the first one being that of Ouranos, who was later overthrown by Cronos. Cronos’ son, the famous Zeus, overpowered his father and seized the throne and control of all beings, this was the new religion. Now Zeus’ power, being as fresh and fragile as it was, is said to be “harsh”. The chorus in Prometheus Bound literally say, regarding his new rule, that “Power newly won is always harsh”.
Perhaps the most important figures in the Trilogy, aside from Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, are the Furies. Those are female personifications of vengeance, their job is to punish crime. In Greek thought, Justice equaled Vengeance. Therefore The Furies were the tools to set the scales right, and to restore Justice. They hunt down wrong-doers, those caught red-handed committing matricide, patricide, or breaking codes of hospitality. The Furies were considered part of the Old Generation, they are said to be the guardians of law when the state proper did not exist. Bearing that they make part of an old system will help us understand the events of the Trilogy much better.
The short mythical background secured, let us move on to the historical facade.
Helen, mostly known for her captivating beauty, was Clytemnestra’s sister. Their mother was Leda, and their father was Zeus. Upon maturing into the breath-taking female that she was, Helen received outrageous numbers of suitors who desired her. The suitors were so infatuated with her physical attributes that they all agreed to consider her word final, and to aid the man to be her husband with their armies, should his possession of her ever be endangered. Helen chose auburn-haired Menelaus, who happened to be Agamemnon’s brother. This choice was followed by Clytemnestra’s choosing Agamemnon as her husband and had with him three children: Orestes, Electra, and Iphigenia. The godly ancestry of the two women (Helen and Clytemnestra) is very important in understanding the status of the female in Greek thinking, this to be later explained.
The Olympian Gods were invited to a wedding, save for a minor power named Eris. This Eris came uninvited, and to cause some trouble, he threw an apple on which were inscribed the words ” For the fairest”, on the table where the Goddesses were seated. Hera, wife of Zeus, Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Athene, Goddess of wisdom, all quarreled over who gets the apple. To solve this problem, Zeus sent the three female deities to the most beautiful of mortal youth, Paris of Troy. He gave the apple to Aphrodite, for she had promised him the most beautiful woman on earth as prize. This woman was Helen.
Mythology and history incredibly intertwine in the Greek world, thus fueling the imagination of the passionate. Read on.
The Trojan War broke after Helen eloped with Paris to Troy. Her husband, Menelaus, called for the ex-suitors of Helen, the Kings, to live up to their earlier pact. Agamemnon, King of kings, led phenomenal fleets and set sail for Troy to recover Helen. Naturally, he left his wife, Clytemnestra, behind, in the city of Argos.
In Argos there lurked a threat to Agamemnon’s empty throne, personified in his cousin, Aegisthus. The blood-feud between the two is rooted to their fathers, Atreus father of Agamemnon, and Thyestes father of Aegisthus. The two old men argued about who should succeed to the throne of Argos, and to prevent his brother from ruling the kingdom, Atreus had to attach an unforgivable sin toThyestes’ fame, one that would render him permanently taboo in the eyes of the citizens. What better way to do that than to make the man devour the flesh of his own sons? The wholesome meal was served in a banquet, Thyestes was exiled with his remaining son Aegisthus.
Atreus, Agamemnon’s father, got away with the crime. But Vengeance was to haunt his family for eternity until the scores were set even. Aegisthus seduced Clytemnestra, the wife of his cousin, and gave her yet another excuse for the murder that she was about to carry out. Killing Agamemnon.
Another bit of history integral to the story is the heartless act of sacrifice that Agamemnon deemed appropriate. Upon starting the naval journey to Troy, the winds changed and the ships were unable to cross the seas. A soothsayer declared that Artemis must be appeased by the sacrifice of the virgin daughter of Agamemnon, named Iphigenia. Agamemnon, not wanting to risk his status among the other kings, consented and sent for his daughter. He deceived Clytemnestra by telling her that he is about to marry their daughter off to the hero Achilles, the girl was duly slaughtered by her father and the fleet set sail.
With this I conclude the introductory entry to the Analysis of the Female in the Orestia. I leave you with graphics made by yours truly to make things easier for the confused. Figure (1) explains the relationships between Sparta and Argos, while Figure (2) depicts the unended struggle for vengeance between Atreus and Thyestes.
The chosen myth for this post is derived from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The story of Narcissus is so popular the grand public mostly know something about it, even if not the particulars. The original is longish, therefore bits and pieces shall be shared in this post, in hopes that the most significant are featured.
“When her time was come, that nymph most fair brought forth a child with whom one could have fallen in love even in his cradle, and she called him Narcissus.
Cephisus’ child had reached his sixteenth year, and could be counted at once boy and man. Many lads and many girls fell in love with him, but his soft young body housed a pride so unyielding that none of those boys or girls dared to touch him. One day, as he was driving timid deers into his nets, he was seen by that talkative nymph who cannot stay silent when another speaks, but yet has not learned to speak first herself. Her name is Echo, and she always answers back.
Echo still had a body then, she was not just a voice: but although she was always chattering, her power of speech was no different from what it is now. All she could do was to repeat the last words of the many phrases that she heard.
So, when she saw Narcissus wandering through the lonely countryside, Echo fell in love with him, and followed secretly in his footsteps. The more closely she followed, the nearer was the fire which scorched her: just as sulphur, smeared round the tops of torches is quickly kindled when a flame is brought near it.
The boy, by chance, had wandered away from his faithful band of comrades, and he called out: “Is there anybody here?”, Echo answered: “Here!”. Narcissus stood still in astonishment, looking round in every direction, and cried at the pitch of his voice: “Come!”, as he called, she called in reply.
To make good her words she came out of the wood and made to throw her arms around the neck she loved: but he fled from her, crying as he did so, “Away with these embraces! I would die before I would have you touch me!”. Her only answer was: “I would have you touch me!”. Thus scorned, she concealed herself in the woods, hiding her shamed face in the shelter of the leaves, and ever since that day, she dwells in lonely caves. Yet still her love remained firmly rooted in her heart, and was increased by the pain of having been rejected. She became wrinkled and wasted; all the freshness of her beauty withered into the air. Only her voice and her bones were left.
Narcissus had played with her affections, treating her as he had previously treated other spirits of the waters and the woods, and his male admirers too. Then one of those he had scorned raised up his hands to heaven and prayed: ” May he himself fall in love with another, as we have done with him! May he too be unable to gain his loved one!”. Nemesis heard and granted his righteous prayer.
There was a clear pool, with shining silvery waters, where shepherds had never made their way; no goats that pasture on the mountains, no cattle had ever come there. Narcissus, wearied with the hunting in the heat of the day, lay down here. While he sought to quench his thirst, another thirst grew in him, and as he drank, he was enchanted by the beautiful reflection that he saw. He fell in love with an insubstantial hope, mistaking a mere shadow for a real body.
He did not know what he was looking at, but was fired by the sight, and excited by the very illusion that deceived his eyes. Poor foolish boy, why vainly grasp at the fleeting image that eludes you? The thing you are seeing does not exist, only turn aside and you will lose what you love. What you see is but the shadow cast by your reflection; in itself it is nothing. It comes with you, and lasts while you are there; it will go when you go, if go you can.
His tears disturbed the water, so that the pool rippled, and the image grew dim. He saw it disappearing, and cried aloud: “Where are you fleeing? Cruel creature, stay, do not desert one who loves you! Let me look upon you, if I cannot touch you. Let me, by looking, feed my ill-starred love.” In his grief, he tore away the upper portion of his tunic, and beat his bared breast with hands as white as marble. His breast flushed rosily where he struck it. When Narcissus saw this reflected in the water, he could bear it no longer. As golden wax melts with gentle heat, as morning frosts are thawed by the warmth of the sun, so he was worn and wasted away with love, and slowly consumed by its hidden fire. His fair complexion with its rosy flush faded away, gone with his youthful strength, and all the beauties which lately charmed his eyes. Nothing remained of that body which Echo once had loved.”
Visual: “Metamorphosis of Narcissus” by Dali, 1937.
This is an excerpt from Homers Odyssey, Book of the Dead or Book 11. To make matters simple I will provide you with some information on what is actually taking place. Odysseus, the much-debated epic hero, journeys to Hades Kingdom of Decay where he meets the murdered king Agamemnons spirit. Agamemnons spirit tells him of how Clytemnestra, the former kings wife, assassinated him upon his homecoming from Troy.
I raised my hands, but then beat them on the ground, dying, thrust through by a sword. The bitch turned her face aside, and could not even bring herself, though I was on my way to Hades, to shut my eyes with her hands or to close my mouth. There is nothing more degraded or shameful than a woman who can contemplate and carry out deeds like the hideous crime of murdering the husband of her youth. I had certainly expected a joyful welcome from my children and my servants when I reached my home. But now, in the depth of her villainy, she has branded with infamy not herself alone but the whole of her sex, even the virtuous ones, for all times to come.
The story of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra is enriching, although not as fulfilling as one would expect. There are no absolutes, never does one seem to settle on an opinion as to who is to blame for the tragedy. Following is what Clytemnestra has to say in the play Agamemnon, of the Oresteian Trilogy, this one by Aeschylus.
The guile I used to kill him
He used himself the first,
When he by guile uprooted
The tender plant he gave me,
And made this house accurst.
When on my virgin daughter
His savage sword descended,
My tears in rivers ran;
If now by savage-sword thrust
His ageing days are ended,
Let shame and conscience ban
His boasts, where he pays forfeit
For wrong his guile began.
Agamemnon, as clarified by the Philip Vellacott in the introduction he put forward for The Oresteian Trilogy as Penguin Classic of the year 1959, had faced technical and moral problems while attempting to get to Troy.
When everything was ready for the start, the wind changed to the north. The usual fair-wind sacrifices failed to have their effect. Days lengthened into months, and still northerly gales kept the fleet harbour-bound, till food-supplies became an acute problem. At length the prophet Calchas pronounced that the anger of the virgin goddess Artemis must be appeased by the sacrifice of Agamemnons virgin daughter Iphigenia.
Agamemnon protested, and was taunted by his fellow-kings with faint-heartedness. In the end he wrote to Clytemnestra saying he had arranged for his daughter to be married to Achilles, and commanding her to be sent to Aulis. Iphigenia came, and was duly slaughtered. The wind veered, and the fleet set sail. In the ninth year of the siege Paris was killed in battle. In the tenth Troy was captured by the ruse of the wooden horse; all adult males were killed, the women and children enslaved, and the city reduced to ashes.
For a conclusive touchup, I shall quote the Chorus in the tragedy Agamemnon, and deliver a contrast between what they say of the kings behavior and how they regard that of the Queens.
Addressing the king, who had just appeared before them in person after ten years absence away from his homeland, the Chorus say:
Well, a wise shepherd knows his flock by face;
And a wise king can tell the flatterers eye
Moist, unctuous, adoring
The expressive sing of loyalty not felt.
Now this I will not hide: ten years ago
When you led Greece to war for Helens sake
You were set down as sailing
Far off the course of wisdom.
We thought you wrong, misguided, when you tried
To keep morale from sagging
In superstitious soldiers
By offering sacrifice to stop the storm.
Those times are past; you have come victorious home;
Now from our open hearts we wish you well.
Yet they say to Clytemnestra after she kills Agamemnon:
Vile woman! What unnatural food or drink,
Malignant root, brine from the restless sea,
Transformed you, that your nature did not shrink
From foulest guilt? Argos will execrate
Your nameless murder with one voice of hate,
Revoke your portion with the just and free,
And drive you outlawed from our Argive gate.
After a long repose, one that was longer than my expectations had designed it to be, Share a myth series return. Again from Arthur Cotterell as General Editor, I take the subsequent myth from World Mythology, a Parragon Publishing Book, 2005 edition.
Chapter 15, “Africa” introduces an absorbing article titled “The Cosmic Egg”. I enjoyed reading this bit and I feel I should share it with my readership. What I found captivating is the fact that this particular myth affirms the existence of a single creator for the world, and the existence of a spider before man. Other aspects I found lovely are found at the end of the myth, and are related to the process of creating earth.
The Cosmic Egg
Mebege (Fang, Pahouin/ Congo Afrian Republic, Congo, Gabon) was lonely. He pulled some hair from under his right arm, took substance from his brain and lifted a pebble from the sea. He blew on these three elements and they formed an egg.
Mebege gave the egg to Dibobia, a spider who hung between the sky and the sea. When the egg became hot, Mebege descended and put his sperm on it. The egg cracked and three people emerged. Mebege took a strand of raffia and worked it into a cross, establishing the four directions.
He took hair from under his arms, and the lining of his brain, rolled these into a ball, blew on them and created termites and worms. These dispersed in all directions and with their droppings they built up the earth upon which the three humans stepped.
