CLAS 300 / MUS 300, Greek Tragedy and Opera

Aeschylus’ Oresteia: Politics, Literature, and Spectacle

© Sarah Brown Ferrario, 2003

 

Dramatis personae and plot summaries of the three component plays of the Oresteia

 

Agamemnon

 

Watchman, servant of the palace of Argos

Clytemnestra, queen of Argos, wife of Agamemnon, and lover of Aegisthus

Herald, member of the Greek army on its return from Troy

Agamemnon, king of Argos and husband of Clytemnestra

Cassandra, captured princess of Troy, prophetess of Apollo, and concubine of Agamemnon

Aegisthus, cousin of Agamemnon and lover of Clytemnestra

Chorus Leader, old man, member of the Chorus

Chorus, elders of Argos (old men)

 

  Alone on the roof of the palace at Argos, the Watchman waits for the fire-signal which will tell the household that the Greeks have at last captured Troy.  The signal appears, and the Watchman rejoices, but nevertheless offers the oblique hint that all is not well in the palace.

 

  The Chorus of Argive elders enters and reviews the events of the last ten years: the setting-out for Troy, the war itself, and especially the stranding of the Greek ships at Aulis and the sacrifice of Iphigeneia. 

 

  After the conclusion of this long choral ode (the most extensive in all of surviving tragedy), Clytemnestra appears from the palace, and the Chorus members ask her for news.  Clytemnestra responds with two exuberant speeches; the first, the ‘beacon-speech,’ traces the path of the fire-signal from Troy to Argos, and the second describes conditions in the fallen city.

 

  The Chorus sings a choral ode whose opening is known as the ‘Hymn to Zeus,’ offering praise to Zeus for the fall of Troy and vilifying Paris and Helen.  But the mood shifts as they reflect upon the Trojan War and lament the pointless deaths that their side has suffered.  By the end of the chorus, they are not sure whether to believe or not that the war is truly over.

 

  A Herald from the Greek army enters, overjoyed to have reached home at last.  He praises his homeland and exults over the fall of Troy, his buoyant mood unchanged even by the veiled warnings of the Chorus that all is not well at home.  He describes the harsh conditions under which the armies fought at Troy.  Clytemnestra listens to his story and then tells him to summon Agamemnon as quickly as possible.  After she exits into the palace, the Chorus asks about the fate of Menelaus, and the Herald describes a storm and shipwreck--setting up, of course, the lost satyr play Proteus which was to follow the Oresteia in performance (cf. below).

 

  The Chorus sings of Helen and the destruction she has caused.  A digression in their poetry about a lion-cub which turns on its human family is a particularly famous section of this ode, as is the concluding section about the incongruity of prosperity and justice.

 

  Agamemnon enters in a chariot, accompanied by his Trojan concubine Cassandra.  He is acclaimed by the Chorus, who again offer a warning that not everyone in Argos is well-disposed towards the king.  Agamemnon gives a long speech filled with vivid, bloody imagery about the sack of Troy, then promises to put the affairs of his city back on course.  Clytemnestra offers him an elaborate, melodramatic, and overdone speech of welcome, and then orders that purple tapestries be spread over the ground from the king’s chariot to the door of the palace for Agamemnon to walk upon in triumph.  Agamemnon hesitates, not wanting to act like a barbarian (Persian!) king, offend the gods with hubris, or ruin such expensive possessions.  In a stichomythia confrontation known to scholars as ‘the Agon,’ Clytemnestra bests Agamemnon with words and convinces him to walk into the palace on the tapestries.  As he does so, she speaks a soothing and lovely speech about the prosperity of their house and the security of the master’s return home.  Once the king is out of sight, however, Clytemnestra offers a fervent prayer to Zeus before following him into the palace.

 

  The Chorus sings an agitated song about the nameless fear that has begun to grip them. 

 

  At this point the audience would expect to hear Agamemnon’s death-cry, but instead Clytemnestra emerges from the house to try to convince Cassandra to come inside.  Cassandra, still in her chariot, refuses to answer her, and Clytemnestra, disgusted, withdraws.  Alone with the Chorus, Cassandra experiences a series of visions about the death of Agamemnon, the slaughter of the children of Thyestes, and her own impending death.  The Chorus is somewhat sympathetic to her pain but incapable of believing or acting upon her prophesies.  At last, spent, she enters the palace.  The Chorus wonders if Agamemnon will have to atone for the past sins of his family.

 

  Agamemnon’s death-cry is heard, and the members of the Chorus exchange individual lines in their confusion, wondering what to do.

 

  Clytemnestra appears, exultant, standing over the bodies of Agamemnon and Cassandra, and gives a vivid speech about the act of murdering her husband.  Reproached by the Chorus, she claims that she has avenged her daughter Iphigeneia, and that her lover Aegisthus will protect her.  She gloats over the death of Cassandra, whom she depicts as a whore, and she and the Chorus enter into an epirrhematic scene during which the Chorus offers further reflections on the curse of the House of Atreus and laments Agamemnon.

 

  Aegisthus enters and rejoices over the death of Agamemnon, relating the tale of how Agamemnon’s father, Atreus, killed the children of Thyestes--Aegisthus’ siblings--and served them to him as a meal, thus driving forward the family curse.  The Chorus scolds Aegisthus for his insolence and cowardice, and Aegisthus threatens to enslave them.  Just as the Chorus and Aegisthus’ bodyguard are about to come to blows, Clytemnestra emerges from the palace and tells her lover to ignore the powerless old men.  He follows her back inside; they are now established as the rulers of Argos.

 

Choephoroi

 

Orestes, prince of Argos and son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra

Pylades, son of Strophios the Phocian and friend of Orestes

Electra, princess of Argos and daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra

Slave, worker in the palace of Argos

Clytemnestra, queen of Argos, former wife of Agamemnon, lover of Aegisthus, and mother of Orestes

Nurse (Cilissa), worker in the palace of Argos and former nursemaid of Orestes

Aegisthus, de facto king (consort) of Argos, former cousin of Agamemnon, and lover of Clytemnestra

Chorus Leader, woman, member of the Chorus

Chorus, Trojan slaves (women) in the palace of Argos, sympathetic friends of Electra

 

  Orestes and Pylades arrive at the tomb of Agamemnon, in Argos.  Orestes, who has grown up in exile, was not in Argos when his father was murdered, and he therefore leaves the traditional funerary offering now, a lock of his own hair.  He catches sight of a procession of women approaching, and he and Pylades conceal themselves nearby.  (This opening scene was initially much longer than it appears now; most of Orestes’ speech was lost in the process of manuscript transmission.)

 

  The Chorus of female Trojan slaves enters in mourning, bringing libations for the grave of Agamemnon in response to a nightmare Clytemnestra has recently had.

 

  Electra questions the Chorus, her friends, about what to say as she pours the offerings onto the tomb; from their discussion it emerges that Electra, who is practically a slave in her own home, loathes Clytemnestra, hates Aegisthus, and longs for the return of her exiled brother Orestes.  As the Chorus are singing a short song for Agamemnon, Electra finds the lock of hair that Orestes has left on the tomb.  She finds a set of footprints, too, and notices that both hair and footprints strongly resemble her own.  Hardly daring to speculate, she wonders if perhaps her brother has come home.

 

  Orestes emerges from his hiding-place and identifies himself, offering as a final token a piece of clothing Electra wove for him long ago.  Brother and sister rejoice, and it becomes clear that Orestes is here to avenge his father and reclaim his birthright at the bidding of Apollo.

 

  The ‘kommos,’ an extended epirrhematic scene, now takes place.  The Chorus begins to sing, asking the Fates to guide the vengeance that is to come.  Orestes and Electra respond in turn, lamenting Agamemnon, recalling his ignoble death, praying for aid, and stirring up their mutual hatred of Clytemnestra.  They entreat Agamemnon’s aid in their endeavors.  This emotional scene functions in part as the funerary lament which Agamemnon never received, and in part to stir up Orestes’ courage to act.

 

  Orestes interrogates the Chorus about the nightmare which prompted Clytemnestra to send libations to Agamemnon’s grave.  He immediately understands that he himself is the serpent she bears, the serpent which is to kill her.  Orestes makes plans to enter the palace with Pylades disguised as a traveler; the strict Greek rules of hospitality will guarantee their admittance.  He tells Electra to stand watch inside the house.

 

  The Chorus sings of the monstrous things the earth bears--especially murderous women: Althaea, Scylla, the Lemnian women.  It also recalls the curse that still stands upon the palace.

 

  Orestes and Pylades are admitted to the palace by a Slave and interviewed by Clytemnestra.  Orestes claims to be a Phocaian traveler sent to bring the message that Orestes has died in exile.  Clytemnestra expresses questionably sincere grief and nevertheless promises hospitality to the visitors.

 

  The Chorus expresses their hope that Orestes will succeed.

 

  The Nurse (addressed by name by the Chorus as Cilissa) enters and laments the death of Orestes, remembering his babyhood.  She also says that she has been sent to fetch the hated Aegisthus to hear the news--news which will doubtless make him happy.  The Chorus tells the Nurse to change her message so that Aegisthus will arrive unarmed and unguarded (this is the last time in known tragedy that a chorus actually interferes directly in the plot!), as Orestes is not yet dead.  The Nurse does not fully understand, but promises to do as she has been told.

 

  The Chorus sings an extended optimistic song wishing Orestes success and invoking on his behalf the assistance of the gods.

 

  Aegisthus enters and decides to question the messenger who has brought the new of Orestes’ death.  He goes inside, and the Chorus reflects that the moment of truth has arrived.  Aegisthus’ death-cry is heard.

  The Slave enters, raising the alarm.  Clytemnestra enters and inquires what the matter is, and when the Slave responds that ‘the dead are killing the living,’ she understands what has taken place and calls for an axe.  Orestes and Pylades appear over the body of Aegisthus, and a confrontation between Orestes and Clytemnestra ensues during which she pleads for her life, invoking the sanctity of a mother’s relationship to her child.  Her pleas fall on deaf ears, and Orestes drags her into the palace.

 

  The Chorus sings a triumphant ode about Justice, but its violent imagery does not suggest future happiness.

 

  Orestes appears, standing over the bodies of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus.  With him he has the robe in which Clytemnestra trapped Agamemnon to kill him; he orders the robe spread out for all to see and describes Clytemnestra’s deed in fearful and violent terms.  Suddenly, he becomes aware that he is slowly going mad.  He proclaims the justice of his act and attributes it to Apollo’s bidding, then announces that he will go to Delphi to seek purification.  The Chorus tries to comfort him, but Orestes is stricken by visions of the Furies (Erinyes) who now pursue him for the murder of his mother.  He runs out, terrified by images that only he can see.

 

  The Chorus reflects on the sequence of the family curse and wonders where it will end.

 

Eumenides

 

Pythia, elderly priestess of the temple of Apollo at Delphi

Ghost of Clytemnestra, now deceased

Apollo, god of prophesy and advocate for Orestes

Orestes, prince of Argos and son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra

Athena, goddess of wisdom and justice, patroness of Athens

Chorus Leader, Fury, member of the Chorus

Chorus, Furies (elderly female avenging deities), pursuing Orestes for the murder of Clytemnestra

Athenian jurors, summoned by Athena for Orestes’ trial, mutae personae (?)

 

  At Delphi, the Pythia prepares to enter the temple of Apollo, take her seat on the ritual tripod, and offer prophesy.  When she goes in, however, she suffers a great fright and reemerges to describe what she has seen: a bloodied and armed Orestes seeking protection at the navel-stone as a suppliant, surrounded by the evil and grotesque Furies that are pursuing him for the murder of Clytemnestra.  The Furies, she notes, are asleep.

 

  Apollo and Orestes appear; Apollo promises to continue to protect and assist Orestes in his flight from the Furies, and bids Orestes go to Athens, where he will be put on trial.

 

  The Ghost of Clytemnestra appears and upbraids the Furies for losing their prey while they slept.  The Furies mumble in their sleep and at last awake to find that Orestes, whom they thought they had trapped, is gone.  They sing of the treachery of Apollo, one of the ‘younger’ gods, and of the guilt of Orestes.

 

  Apollo reappears and confronts the Furies.  Each side presents its view of the case in their angry conversation, and Apollo promises that Athena will review the situation at Athens.  (The following scene-change from Delphi to Athens is unique in known Greek tragedy.  Other known scene-changes are associated with different locations in the same general place.)

 

  Orestes, newly arrived in Athens, appeals to Athena for justice.  The Furies enter, searching for him, and when they find him, promise to destroy him.  Orestes claims that he has already been purified of his guilt, but the Furies respond with their ‘binding-song,’ an extended choral ode which describes their role in vendetta and purports to paralyze Orestes by destroying his mind.

 

  Athena enters and, in a brief conversation with the Furies, hears part of their case.  Orestes tells his side of the tale in an extended speech, and Athena decides that a jury is necessary.  She departs to select citizens to hear the trial.

 

  The Furies sing a choral ode about the rule of their version of ‘justice’ and about the consequences that will occur if Orestes is acquitted.

 

  Athena returns with a group of Athenian men to serve as jurors.  Apollo enters to serve as Orestes’ advocate.  By interrogating Orestes, the Furies present their case.  Orestes appeals to Apollo to describe the justice of his act, which Apollo does, but the Furies object that Apollo is focusing only on the father’s case as opposed to the mother’s.  Apollo responds with a spurious description of how the father is a child’s only biological parent, while the mother is merely a vessel.  Athena calls for a vote.  As the jurors drop their ballots into a box, Athena gives an extended speech about the foundations of justice in Athens.  Apollo and the Furies engage in one last battle of words.

 

  Athena casts her own vote in Orestes’ favor, ‘preferring the male in all things.’  She then calls for the votes to be counted.  They are equal, and she announces Orestes’ acquittal.  Orestes gives a speech of thanks, promising friendship between Argos and Athens for all time, and departs for home.

 

  The Furies, enraged at their loss of Orestes and their dishonor at the trial, lament their results and promise a violent attack on Athens.  Athena gently asserts that the trial turned out according to the will of Zeus and promises the Furies a position of honor in Athens.  She offers them a cult in exchange for their blessings upon her city.  Persuaded, the Furies relent and sing happily of their new home and the gifts they will bestow upon Athens--if its citizens remain just.

 

  A procession of citizens (possibly including the Athenian jurors) enters to escort the Furies--now the Eumenides (‘Kindly Ones’) to their new cultic home in a cave beneath the Acropolis.  They close the play--and the trilogy--with a joyful hymn to the new deities and to their city.

 

 

A Family Tree of the House of Atreus

 

House%20of%20Atreus%20Family%20Tree

 

*N. B. The exact number of Aegisthus’ siblings is open to wide debate (there may have been as few as two or three; thirteen is very high); Aeschylus’ text is corrupt in the relevant passage. 

Another mythological daughter of Agamemnon and Klytemnestra, Chrysothemis, is never mentioned by Aeschylus.

 

Some general facts about the Oresteia and its poet

 

  The Oresteia (consisting of three plays, Agamemnon, Choephoroi, and Eumenides) is the only trilogy of Greek tragedies to survive into the modern era.  It is also a ‘connected’ trilogy, centering upon the sequential experiences of a single family.  The satyr play that was performed along with it, however, Proteus, is lost.  We do know that Proteus covered Menelaus’ run-in with the shape-shifting sea-god of that name.  (Menelaus, according to some mythological accounts, hit a storm on the way home from the Trojan War and was blown off-course to Egypt, where Proteus lived; cf. the Herald’s scene in Agamemnon.)

 

  The Oresteia (with Proteus) was performed at the City Dionysia in Athens in 458 BC, where it won first prize.  Its poet, Aeschylus, died just two years later, in 456 BC.  Legend has it that an eagle trying to crack open a tortoise dropped the prey directly onto Aeschylus’ bald head, mistaking it for a conveniently located rock, and so killed the poet instead of the tortoise.

 

  After Aeschylus’ death, a special decree was passed by the Athenian Assembly to permit ‘revival’ performances of the Oresteia.  This was the first occasion we know of where tragedies were given second and subsequent performances; until this time, plays had been retired after their initial presentation.

 

  Aeschylus was a military veteran of the Persian Wars (c. 490-79 BC) and a member of the highly respected group of Marathonomachoi (Athenians who had fought against the Persians at Marathon).  Aeschylus’ brother, Cynegirus, was killed at Marathon, supposedly when his arm was severed as he tried to lay hold of a Persian ship.  Aeschylus himself may also have fought at the equally famous battle of Salamis, but this is uncertain.

 

  Although you can see by comparing their dates that Aeschylus is about a generation older than Sophocles, the two tragedians did actually compete against one another at the dramatic festivals late in Aeschylus’ life.  His occasional successes against Aeschylus, in fact, were the initial predictors of Sophocles’ bright future as a tragic poet.

 

  Aeschylus was looked upon later in the 5th century BC (after his death) as something of a classic, a bit archaic and overly elaborate at times, but still an edifying writer capable of great dramatic power.  In Aristophanes’ comedy Frogs, the god Dionysus descends into Hades to resurrect a deceased poet who will raise Athens out of its sinking artistic state.  After dismissing Sophocles (who, being such a genial man, will not mind staying dead) and holding a competition between Aeschylus and Euripides, the god of tragedy ultimately selects Aeschylus to return to earth.

 

The Oresteia and contemporary (ancient) Greek politics and institutions

 

  The most important contemporary political reference in Agamemnon is the setting of the play itself, i.e. Argos.  In Homer, Agamemnon is the king of Mycenae, not Argos.  Although these towns are near each other, they are most definitely not the same place.  It seems to be a very small point, but in 458 BC, it was a very big point.

            •  Around 461 BC, about three years before the performance of the Oresteia, Athens made a

            political alliance with Argos, and this represented a real change in foreign policy.  Athens and

            Sparta had been relatively friendly during the wars against Persia, but afterwards, they started to

            grow suspicious of one another’s power.  Athens’ new alliance with Argos represented a real

            break with Sparta, because Argos and Sparta had been traditional enemies for hundreds of

            years.  Tensions escalated, and only thirty years after the Athens-Argos alliance, Athens and

            Sparta were at war.

             But in 458 the new alliance with Argos was exciting.  Athens was in the process of building

            up an empire, and such a powerful new friend might help Athens to do great things.

             Note also that in Eumenides, Agamemnon’s son, Orestes, promises that Athens and Argos

            will be friends forever.  In this way Aeschylus makes it sound like the new political alliance

            between Athens and Argos has been ordained from mythological times.

 

  The most important contemporary political reference in Eumenides is probably the setting of the jury-trial at Athens, atop the Areopagus hill (the ‘hill of Ares’ mentioned in Athena’s big speech during the trial).  The Athenian ‘Council of the Areopagus,’ a council of ex-magistrates which apparently met upon this very hill, had been subjected to radical reforms in 462/1 in the midst of the same political upheaval which ultimately produced the Athenian alliance with Argos.  Many of the traditional governmental powers of the Areopagus were taken away.  Before the reforms, it was responsible for 1. abstract and permissive ‘guarding of the laws’; 2. discretionary trial, sentencing, and punishment of criminals; 3. jurisdiction in cases of treason and official misconduct; 4. conducting inquiries into the accounts and affairs of ex-magistrate to determine if they were fit to join the Areopagus.  After the reforms, it was left only with the right to try criminal cases of premeditated murder, violence with intent to kill, poisoning, and arson.

             A vast amount of academic discussion has taken place over whether or not Aeschylus

            intended this artistic recollection of the Areopagus as a criticism of the recent political reforms. 

            Since scholars have dutifully managed to argue the situation both ways, Aeschylus’ personal

            opinion remains uncertain.  What we can say, however, is that he was inviting his audiences to

            reflect upon current Athenian political problems.

             The aetiology of the Areopagus mapped out by Eumenides, too, with the very first jurors-

            Areopagites being recruited by Athena herself as the ‘best’ of her citizens, makes it feel as if this

            venerated Athenian institution and the Athenian jury system in general, like the Argive alliance,

            have been ordained from mythological times.

                         Like the aetiology of the name of the Areopagus hill (cf. below), however, this

                        account of the ‘first’ trial by the Areopagus in Eumenides is completely false. 

                        Traditionally, in myth, the first trial on the Areopagus was of the god Ares (hence the

                        hill’s name!), standing judgment for the murder of Halirrhothius, a son of Poseidon who

                        had violated Ares' daughter.

 

  The name of the Areopagus hill itself is also presented with an aetiology in Eumenides (the anecdote is related in Athena’s long ‘foundation-speech’ during the trial.  This aetiology is completely false.  It was written up as a fictional account by Aeschylus himself, probably as an excuse to mention Theseus, Athens’ great local hero!

 

  The final important aetiology in Eumenides, in keeping with classical tragic technique, is that of the cult located in a cave on the slope of the Athenian Acropolis.  At Athens, fearsome powers were venerated there under the name of the Semnai (Theai), the ‘Revered Goddesses.’  However, Aeschylus was the first known writer to link the Semnai with the Furies which pursued Orestes and give them a history, so this aetiology is also his own creative invention.  Along with the other aetiologies, it allows him to relocate the foundations of a range of Athenian institutions into the realm of heroic myth.

 

Staging and spectacle: some particularly notable moments

 

Aeschylus was known for his stunning stage and visual effects, and the Oresteia represents some of his best.  Here are some of the highlights, organized roughly in order of the plots of each play:

 

Agamemnon

 

  The Watchman’s apparent location at the opening of the play--on the roof of the skene--represents an unusual and innovative use of the little stage-building.  Some scholars have longed to locate the physical start of the first production of the Oresteia at the traditional beginning of the Athenian work-day--dawn--so that the rising sun might represent the fire-signal seen by the Watchman.  The idea is thrilling, but the Theatre of Dionysus was located on the southern slope of the Athenian Acropolis, so the rising sun may not have been directly visible to either actor or audience.

 

  Agamemnon’s entrance would have been a great opportunity for spectacle.  In general, stage directions in Greek tragedy are incorporated into the text (cf. O. Taplin, Stagecraft of Aeschylus), and so when characters refer to riding in chariots, they are believed to have been doing so--complete with real horses.  Agamemnon would probably also have been accompanied by all sorts of ‘extras’ acting as soldiers, guards, captives, and bearers of war spoils--we know that mute individuals and crowd scenes were often used to make productions appear more splendid.

 

  Cassandra would have been dressed as a ‘barbarian’ Eastern princess, with a costume which differed from those of the Greek characters.  She would also have been wearing a prophet’s robe and wreaths, which she casts down and tramples on the ground before she enters the palace to die.

 

  The purple tapestries which Clytemnestra spreads on the ground for Agamemnon to walk on form perhaps the most significant image of the entire trilogy.  The tapestries not only represent Agamemnon’s acting like a barbarian king (the hated king of Persia, for example, had carpets laid for him everywhere he walked, including outdoors), engaging in hubris (assimilating himself to the kinds of prerogatives ordinarily enjoyed by gods), and wasting the wealth of his house, but they also form a symbolic river of blood leading him into the palace where he will be killed.

 

  Cassandra’s ‘mad scene’ is an opportunity for virtuosic singing and dramatic physical acting (gestures on the ancient tragic stage had to be big if they were to be seen, and even bigger if they were to seem agitated).  So difficult are her poetry and her rapid shifts of mood, in fact, that some scholars have thought that the most accomplished actor in the group must have taken her role, not Clytemnestra’s.

 

  The ekkyklema, with Clytemnestra standing over the bodies of Agamemnon and Cassandra (and quite possibly holding an axe, as she does in several vase-paintings which may have been influenced by the Oresteia performance), would have been shockingly vivid--two bloodied bodies, at least one of them entangled in a netlike robe and possibly naked, surmounted by a frenzied woman who feels absolutely no hesitation or remorse.

 

Choephoroi

 

  The entrance of the Chorus dressed in mourning and engaging in Eastern-style lamentation rituals (tearing of the face, beating of the body, etc.) would probably have been quite striking, and perhaps even vaguely revolting, to the audience.

 

  The use of the recognition tokens near the opening of the play--Orestes’ lock of hair, the footprints, and the piece of weaving--may have simply been mimed, but it is more tempting to believe that actual items would have been used (we know that props were common in Greek tragedy).  (The scene appears plausible in context, or at least it is taken so seriously that there is little room left for reflection, but Euripides satirizes the believability of the tokens in his Electra.)

 

  The kommos, with its combination of chant and song, music and (probably) dance, would have been a vivid opportunity for visual and aural virtuosic display.  But the members of the audience who knew Aeschylus’ other works may have been expecting something more.  In Persai (‘The Persians’), performed in 472 BC (14 years before the Oresteia), a similar scene of invocation and lament at a tomb takes place, with the elders of the Persian court calling upon their deceased king, Darius.  In response to their cries, the ghost of Darius rises from his tomb to prophesy to them.  Audiences of the Oresteia, then, might have expected the ghost of Agamemnon to make a similar appearance.  It is somewhat disappointing, although more pathetic, when he does not.

 

  The rapid lead-up to the climax of the play, where the Slave sounds the alarm and Clytemnestra and Orestes meet for the last time, represents a dramatically tense and exciting scene.  Clytemnestra’s desperation is reflected in the baring of her breast, a rare act ordinarily performed by supplicating captives.

 

  The ekkyklema, if possible, adds to the visual and dramatic effect produced by the analogous scene in Agamemnon.  Not only is Orestes standing over the two bloodied bodies, but he even has with him the robe in which his father is killed, and spreads it out on the stage.  Further, at the conclusion of the scene, Orestes goes mad, an opportunity for more agitated and virtuosic acting.

 

Eumenides

 

  The Furies themselves would have been elaborately costumed and masked to appear supremely terrifying.  A late anecdote refers to women having spontaneous miscarriages from fright upon the first appearance of this Chorus!

 

  The somewhat ludicrous scene of the ghost of Clytemnestra scolding the sleeping Furies would have been an excellent opportunity for some very original staging (where would the ghost have appeared?  How would the Furies have moved and talked in their sleep?).

 

  The Furies’ ‘binding-song’ was probably accompanied by highly elaborate choreography (there are references to dance-steps and movements within the text itself).

 

  Athena probably had a chariot-entrance upon her first appearance (although the corrupted text at this point makes this interpretation slightly debatable).

 

  The assembly of the jury during the trial and the actual casting of ballots would probably have taken place according to contemporary Athenian court procedures (e.g. the ballots probably would have been black and white pebbles), reminding audience members of the judicial activities in which they themselves had participated.

 

  It is likely that during the final scene of the play the converted Furies (now the Eumenides) received red cloaks to symbolize their new status as resident foreigners adopted into the city of Athens.  Red cloaks were worn by human resident foreigners (called metics, from the Greek metoikoi) during the annual Panathenaia, the great festival of Athena.

 

  The last procession of the trilogy, led by torchbearers and escorted by singers (possibly including the heretofore mute jurors), could have been--and probably was--staged as an enormous, triumphant production number, a hymn to the glory of Athens.

 

Some major literary themes in the trilogy

 

  Justice.  It has been argued that the entire theme of the Oresteia as a whole is the transformation of the ‘archaic’ righteousness of blood-vendetta into the ‘enlightened/democratic’ justice of the rule of law.  It is only once this transformation is accomplished that the curse upon the House of Atreus can be redeemed and ended.

Some points to think about:

             Is Agamemnon’s death ‘just’?  He is responsible not only for the death of his daughter and his

            acquisition of a concubine, but also for the deaths of all of the men at Troy.  By the time he

            chooses to step on the tapestries on his way into the palace, he is already heavily laden with guilt

            for these problems, but also burdened with the family curse.

             Consider the chain of transgressions and deaths in the House of Atreus down to Orestes.

            (Aeschylus is concerned with the following: Thyestes’ attempt on Atreus’ throne/wife, Atreus’

            slaughter of Thyestes’ children, Agamemnon’s sacrifice of Iphigeneia, Clytemnestra’s murder of

            Agamemnon, and Orestes’ murder of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus.)  This is a family which has

            got everything backwards; instead of multiplying over generations, it literally consumes its own

            members.

 

  Fate vs. free will.  What is chosen vs. what is preordained is always a problem in Greek tragedy, and perhaps especially so with Aeschylus, who thinks very deeply about the role played in events by Zeus and Fate.  An additional factor in this particular trilogy is the effect of the curse upon the House of Atreus, which is invoked so frequently that it almost becomes an extra character.

Some points to think about:

             Is Agamemnon really free not to kill Iphigeneia?  Recall his deliberation reported during the

            first chorus of Agamemnon.  Whether or not he is trapped by the conventional mythological plot

            is not so significant as the fact that he perceives himself to be trapped by what his allies want.

             Is Agamemnon’s death an act of free will on Clytemnestra’s part, a continuation of the curse

            on his family, retribution for his daughter Iphigeneia and for the deaths at Troy, or all of the

            above?

             Does Cassandra have any free will or autonomy of her own?  Are her prophesies merely

            dramatic devices, or are they really the voice of the inextricable power of fate?

             Does Orestes have the choice as to whether or not to kill his mother?  Apollo has threatened

            him, but at the moment of truth, he hesitates.  When Pylades speaks his single line, is this really

            the voice of fate?

             Is Aeschylus’ solution to Orestes’ trial satisfying?  The Furies try to hold Orestes personally

            responsible for his actions, while Orestes claims Apollo gave him no choice.  Does Aeschylus

            confront this dichotomy or gloss over it?

 

  The power of speech.   In Greek tragedy, where physical violence is so seldom depicted on stage, characters derive symbolic power from their speaking abilities.  Characters who speak frequently and articulately, who deploy complex vocabularies and elaborate arguments, and who have opportunities to prevent others from speaking, are understood as possessing physical and psychological authority.

Some points to think about:

             How do Clytemnestra’s speech patterns mark her out as an unusually imposing character?

            Consider the virtuosic litany of place-names during her beacon-speech in Agamemnon, her

            besting of Agamemnon with words during their famous Agon, and even (possibly) the fact that

            Cassandra has nothing to say against her.  (But does Cassandra’s muteness represent the fact

            that Clytemnestra already has her beaten, or does it represent the one way Cassandra can rebel

            against Clytemnestra?)  Think about the scope of Clytemnestra’s speech: her almost prophetic

            description of conditions during the sack of Troy, her wide-ranging use of imagery.

             The speech (in the abstract) of the kommos of Choephoroi is powerful and powerless at the

            same time: on the one hand, it rouses Orestes to act; on the other, it functions as a too-late

            lament for a long-deceased king ignobly slaughtered, and fails to summon an appearance of his

            spirit.

             The power of ‘speech’ is also manifested in Choephoroi in the implied debate over symbols:

            Clytemnestra dreams of giving birth to a snake: Orestes gains power over her by becoming the

            true, correct interpreter of the dream and understanding what role it depicts for him.

             The trial-scene in Eumenides is perhaps the ultimate triumph of the power of speech: Athena

            speaks, and Athenian democracy is born; the prosecution and defense speak, and vendetta is

            replaced with the justice of law.

 

Chains of imagery

 

Aeschylus uses and reuses certain classes of imagery throughout the trilogy.  These images occur in similes and metaphors, in abstract reflections by the Choruses, in descriptions given by the characters, etc., and they function in part to tie the Oresteia together into a coherent whole.  They also function in more complex ways: the ways in which they are used sometimes reflects upon the action taking place. Here are some (emphasis on the ‘some’--this is just a small selection!) of Aeschylus’ most common and most important chains of imagery.  As you study the Oresteia, see how many of them you can trace.  Do the ways in which they are used change as the trilogy progresses?

 

  Flowing liquids

             Blood (very important!)

             Discharges (pus, the dripping from the Furies’ eyes, etc.)

             Libations and ritual offerings

 

  Animals

             Snakes and serpents (very important!)

             Lions (sometimes vs. wolves, the cowardly opposite of lions)

             Birds (various kinds, especially eagles)

             Helpless creatures (the pregnant hare in the opening chorus of Agamemnon, baby birds, etc.)

 

  Traps

             Nets (hunting imagery, the robe in which Agamemnon is killed)

             Webs (the spider webs mentioned in the final epirrhematic scene of Agamemnon, tapestries)

 

  Sacrifice

             Perverted sacrifice of the members of the House of Atreus (brought on by the curse)

             Death as sacrifice (cf. e.g. Cassandra)

             The libations at the opening of Choephoroi

             Sacral and sacrificial appeals of Orestes at Delphi

             The sacrifice demanded by the Furies

 

  Fertility and barrenness

             The House of Atreus that destroys and consumes its young

             Clytemnestra as mother and as destroyer

             Richness of the Argive palace in Agamemnon vs. impoverishment of Electra and Orestes in

            Choephoroi (Electra and Orestes also make the house barren by being cut off from their rightful

            positions within the family)

             The curses vs. the blessings of the Furies in Eumenides

 

  Light vs. darkness

             The beacon-fire at the opening of Agamemnon

             The ‘dark’ interior of the house (where the female rules and plots) vs. the ‘light’ outside

            (where the male rules and acts openly)

             Secrecy vs. openness (the deceptions conducted by Clytemnestra, Aegisthus, and Orestes)

             The ‘dark’ Furies vs. the ‘bright’ Olympian deities in Eumenides

             The torchlight in the final procession to the dark cave at the end of Eumenides

             Color associations (especially red)

 

  Male vs. female

             Agamemnon vs. Iphigeneia: military concerns vs. domestic love

             Agamemnon vs. Clytemnestra: ‘exterior’ male locus of control vs. ‘interior’ female one

             Clytemnestra vs. Aegisthus: which of the two is more ‘manly’?  (Note that the Watchman calls

            Clytemnestra a ‘woman of manly heart,’ while the Chorus near the end of the play calls

            Aegisthus a ‘woman’!)  Which is truly in control of the palace and of Argos?

             Orestes vs. Electra: the power to act vs. the power to . . . watch and wait?

             Orestes vs. Clytemnestra: duty to father vs. duty to mother; political and religious concerns vs.

            domestic love

             The nexus of Apollo, Athena, and the Furies, and their complex male-female prerogatives

             Some scholars have read the Oresteia as a whole as a progression from matrilineal/family to

            patrilineal/civic concerns.  What do you think?

 

  Pollution and staining

             The stain of guilt: the deaths at Troy and the links in the family curse

             The stain of blood, from the corpses to the death-robe of Agamemnon

             The pollution of Orestes as threatened by Apollo and as perceived by the Furies

             The pollution promised for Athens by the Furies

 

  Music and song

             The Watchman at the opening of Agamemnon notes that he cannot hum or sing on his watch

             The Fury (Erynys) or Furies which sit metaphorically upon the palace and represent the curse

            on the House of Atreus sing a perverted music

             The kommos in Choephoroi

             The Furies’ ‘binding-song’ in Eumenides

             The final redemptive hymn to Athens in Eumenides

 

‘Redemption’ of imagery in Eumenides?

 

Scholars have frequently discussed ways in which imagery that is used in negative ways earlier in the trilogy is transformed and used in positive ways towards the conclusion of Eumenides.  Here are some of these points.  See if you agree with them or not:

 

  The end of the ‘hunt’: Orestes was hunted from the end of Choephoroi and throughout Eumenides by the Furies, who sought to trap him (cf. the ‘binding-song’) just as so many other members of his family were literally and metaphorically trapped before.  Now, after his acquittal, Orestes is free--free to return to Argos and to make decisions about its political state (he promises eternal friendship with Athens).

 

  The promise of holy sacrifices to the Furies/Eumenides from the Athenians: contrast the unholy and perverted sacrifices earlier in the trilogy.

 

  The replacing of barrenness with fertility: the Furies/Eumenides promise the blessings of crops and children for Athens; Orestes will now return to Argos to at last carry on his family line.  The audience members would have been aware that Orestes was mythologically destined to marry Hermione, the daughter of Menelaus and Helen, and father a son by her, Tisamenus, and that Electra was similarly destined to marry Pylades.

 

  The torchlight in the triumphal procession at the end of the trilogy: contrast the beacon announcing the fall of Troy at the beginning.

 

  The quite possible red ‘metic’ cloaks of the Furies: contrast the purple tapestries upon which Agamemnon walks into the palace and the bloody robe in which he was killed, as well as other instances of red and blood throughout the rest of the trilogy.

 

  The reconciliation of male and female claims and interests by Athena, a goddess uniquely situated to represent the values of both (a virgin warrior, female herself yet born exclusively of her father, etc.).

 

  The pure goodness of the final music in the trilogy, the hymn to the Eumenides and to Athens.

 

  The absolution of Orestes’ guilt, the conversion of the Furies into the Eumenides, the effective end of the curse on the House of Atreus, and the transformation of vendetta into ‘real’ justice.

 

Some other special points

 

  Reading Choephoroi as a mirror of Agamemnon

 

The second play of the trilogy is frequently understood as repeating and/or reversing ideas, plot twists, and (especially) images from the first play.  Here are some ways in which it does so.  Can you think of any more?

 

  In Choephoroi, Orestes comes to avenge his father; cf. in Agamemnon Clytemnestra avenging Iphigeneia or Aegisthus avenging his siblings.

 

  Parallel agones between the two plays, with Agamemnon vs. Clytemnestra in Agamemnon and Orestes vs. Clytemnestra in Choephoroi.

 

  Parallel ekkyklemai, with illicit lovers dead at the killer’s feet.  Orestes even displays the robe in which Clytemnestra trapped Agamemnon.

 

  Deception: Orestes drives it in Choephoroi, as opposed to Clytemnestra in Agamemnon.

 

  Inside-outside dichotomies: Agamemnon came home to be killed; Orestes comes home to kill.  Agamemnon was lured into the house; Orestes tricks his own way in.

 

  (Apparently) Aeschylean alterations in the received myths of the Oresteia

 

Some of these changes are almost certainly unique Aeschylean innovations; others may or may not be Aeschylus’ own changes, but certainly represent departures from the Homeric version of the larger story.  They are divided as such below.  Some of these (marked) have already been discussed earlier in this handout.

 

Probably Aeschylus’ own changes:

 

  In Homer, Aegisthus, not Clytemnestra, kills Agamemnon.  This is arguably the most important change that Aeschylus makes (it creates the entire drama of the first play in the trilogy), and the attribution to him rather than to some lost poet is strongly suggested by contemporary vase-paintings.  Before the performance of the Oresteia, the vases depicting this part of the story show a man (Aegisthus) killing a man (Agamemnon); right around the time the Oresteia was performed, the preferred iconography shifts to show a woman (Clytemnestra) killing a man (Agamemnon)!

 

  The aetiology of the name of the Areopagus hill in Eumenides (cf. above).

 

  The aetiology of the cult of the Semnai (Theai) beneath the Acropolis at Athens in Eumenides (cf. above).

 

Other departures from the Homeric version of the story:

 

  In Homer, there is no Iphigeneia.  Agamemnon has a daughter named Iphianassa, and she is not killed.

 

  In Homer, Agamemnon is cut down with his men in the feasting-hall, not slaughtered in the bath.

 

  In Homer, Cassandra is not made as much of as she is in Aeschylus.

 

  In Homer, Agamemnon is not vilified for the deaths of the men at Troy as he is in Aeschylus.