The Oresteia: Agamemnon; The Libation Bearers; The Eumenides (Penguin Classics)

All drama exists in the shadow of the three great tragedians of Ancient Greece; Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. They wrote scores of plays apiece, but only scattered works of those survive. Of Aeschylus' body of work survives the least: plays numbering a mere seven. However, Aeschylus was cut a bit of a break, because three of those surviving seven form the only complete trilogy of plays from Ancient Greek theatre: the Oresteia (Sophocles' "Oedipus Rex", "Oedipus at Colonus", and "Antigone" are often grouped together as the "Theban Plays", but they are not a proper trilogy, which, in Greek theatre, was three interlinked plays performed together in one festival, alongside a fourth satyr play; the satyr play that accompanied the Oresteia has been lost. The scene is the aftermath of the Trojan War, where at least 50% of all Greek mythology seems to have its roots; the victorious Agammemnon returns home, taking with him the despoiled Trojan Princess Cassandra, cursed by Apollo to forever speak truth and never be believed. The war is over, but the echoes persist; indeed, the tragedy has its beginnings in the war's beginning, when Agammemnon, in order to facilitate the armada's crossing of the Aegean, sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia. His wife Clytemnestra, understandably, resents this; perhaps less understandably, she has been unfaithful to her husband in his long absence, and, together with her new lover Aegisthus, plots to kill her husband, as well as poor Cassandra. The repercussions of this redound through the next two plays, "The Libation Bearers" and "The Eumenides", as Agammemnon and Clytemnestra's son Orestes, together with his sister Electra, must decide how to avenge their father's murder. Orestes is in a Catch-22, having to reconcile contradictory demands of divine justice: avenging his father means murdering his mother, a crime to the Eumenides, while not avenging his father will offend Apollo. When looking at Greek drama from a modern perspective, the aspect that many people find the most challenging is the use of Choruses. The first play, "Agammemnon", makes the heaviest use of the Chorus, and I consider it the weakest of the three (by virtue of being the first, it also has a lot of setup). The following "The Libation Bearers" and "The Eumenides" are stronger, with more limited Choruses, and, since the crux of the latter, especially, are debates with dialogue, there is no sense that important actions are occurring offscreen (which was a major trope in Greek drama). These types of stories remain an acquired taste, but they are very enjoyable to those who get used to them. Aeschylus here uses the whole trilogy, and particularly the final play, to dramatize the development of current ideas concerning justice; explanations are given here for the existence of the twelve-man jury, for example. While I consider Sophocles to be the greatest of the three tragedians, Aeschylus' magnum opus is well worth the time of fans of classical drama and mythology.

The Oresteia was written by our man Aeschylus during a golden age of Athens. Art and civility began to flourish at this city upon a hill, not long after a set of ravaging wars with the Persian empire. In one sense, the city-state was ancient, but in another, it had become new again. The tragic playwrights arose from these circumstances. They were men who put on competing shows every Spring during the Festival of Dionysus. Aeschylus was the first of these authors whose work has endured the centuries and The Oresteia is the only surviving trilogy (though still incomplete as it’s missing its fourth satyr play, Proteus, which was meant to lighten the mood after such a heavy piece). What’s lost, we may never know, but what we have in the trilogy is an amazing story of civilization rising from the ashes of barbarism. This tripartite drama says many things, but on a superficial level: King Agamemnon of Argos returns home from Troy a hero, ten years after sacrificing his daughter for a successful expedition. His wife, Clytemnestra, and her lover, Aegisthus, have been awaiting his return, bent on murder. They justify that murder for their own reasons: Clytemnestra seeks justice for her daughter. Aegisthus desires payback for an older, if not more heinous, crime: Agamemnon’s father, Atreus, had tricked Aegisthus’ father into eating the flesh of his own son. Is it any wonder the house of Atreus had been cursed? Several years after the king’s death, Orestes, exiled son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, comes back home to mourn his father and seek his own piece of vengeful justice. Collaborating with his sister, Electra, he disguises himself as a traveler with news of Orestes’ death. He is invited in to the palace of Argos where he kills both his mother and Aegisthus. Even Stevens, right? Of course not. Now a perpetrator of matricide, a crime long considered wicked, the blood-stained Orestes is plagued by the Furies who hunt him like hounds. He purges himself at Apollo’s Oracle at Delphi, but still, he is not yet free from the spiritual guilt and madness brought on by the Furies. We begin to wonder, “Will it ever end?” Finally, Orestes heads to Athena’s temple where he and the Furies plead their cases before the goddess and a jury of wise men. In the end, Orestes is cleared of manslaughter, but of course the Furies are pissed. They seethe and cry out, threatening to unleash their unchecked rage on Athens. Again, “Will it ever end?” Thankfully, a necessary evolution takes place. Athena is forced to advance the ways of both Heaven and Earth. She suggests another path: the Mean, temperance. Athena convinces the Furies to focus their energies on the powers of civic justice and by the end of the final play, the Furies become a force for good, the Eumenides (the Kindly Ones). What a tale, and with so much said about the time and place where it was written. The Oresteia gives us a look at the evolution in which a new Athens stood above a barbarian world, a world which was struggling to release itself from the chains of blood vendettas and destructive tit-for-tats. It’s important to realize The Oresteia doesn’t end with the simple idea of “Right over Might.” Might was instead harnessed, redirected, to ensure Right on a grander scale. The Furies were a raw, earthly power. To quote a passage from Athena: “...you are set on the name of justice rather than the act.” In becoming the Eumenides, they married that raw energy to the potential grace of the Olympian gods. They were no longer blind anger. They were swift and orderly justice which kept the peace, promoting brotherhood over strife. As I mentioned in my review of The Iliad, mankind hasn’t changed much. The issues facing the Greeks are not much different from those facing us today. Whether Aeschylus’ vision was starry-eyed is up for debate. The play was seen as a celebration of Athens’ union with Argos, an event which would eventually arouse the armies of Sparta and end with them bivouacking in the Parthenon not long after. Maybe Aeschylus was the John Lennon of his day, a dreamer. Whatever the outcomes and motives, The Oresteia records the infancy of modern Western civilization. Again, Robert Fagles comes through with a compelling translation. The language is rich and the intentions seem to be true to the original text. This one gets another thumbs-up from me.

The book arrived in just a couple days, and while in relatively good condition, the cover was slightly frayed. Though, this is to be expected with books online, and other penguin classics I own tend to fray easily. Overall, arrived quickly and in relatively good condition.

Recommended

This should be mandatory in schools. I will never be the same after reading it.

OK, it's a niche enjoyment, but accepting that, this is an excellent translation of my favourite piece of Greek drama. The Agamemnon is excellent, Libation Bearers is my favourite of the three and even if Eumenides is a crowd pleasing flag-waver for Athens, it's still really great writing. All in all, if Greek drama is your thing (niche, as I say !), then this is for you.

Good story