Classical Wisdom Litterae - Nov 2019

True, Euripides may have simply been hoping to gain a cheap laugh from an eager and merry audience. However, it would absolutely be true to his character if he were actually attempting to break the rigid structure of Greek theatre, not in its mechanics, but in its humanity and emotion. He wanted to scream to his public that this was not a princess seeking vengeance, but a woman in pain. A brilliant, damaged, vulnerable, destructive vehicle of righteousness. A woman… No! A person prepared to inflict damnation and suffer eternal scorn. A vessel welling with the rage of love that never had the opportunity to be unrequited. She is the killer. Orestes dared not look, he held his cloak over his eyes like a little girl afraid of a storm. It was Electra’s hand, the hand of power, that clasped that of her brother as the blade slid jaggedly into their mother’s throat. Orestes is a frail and fragile figure. A pathetic excuse for a man, for a hero, and for a Greek. It is Electra who restores honor to her household, who butchers the unworthy parent in cold, but worthy blood. Men of Athens were comfortable with stories of murder, incest, hate and hubris. These were common sins. Common enough that nobody needed to debate their evil and illegality. However, the idea that a dominant woman, a crazed-genius, wanton-virgin, bile-inducing paradox of a creature could be in their midst, if only theatrically? That was too much to take. That was really worth being worried about. That was really just typical of Euripides. XLVIII