{"id":1576,"date":"2017-11-04T06:23:12","date_gmt":"2017-11-04T03:23:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/?p=1576"},"modified":"2017-11-04T06:23:12","modified_gmt":"2017-11-04T03:23:12","slug":"simon-goldhill-the-poetic-texture-of-aeschylus","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/1576\/simon-goldhill-the-poetic-texture-of-aeschylus\/","title":{"rendered":"Simon Goldhill, The poetic texture of Aeschylus"},"content":{"rendered":"

From Aeschylus: The Oresteia (Landmarks of World Literature)<\/a>.
\nSimon Goldhill is Professor of Greek, University of Cambridge, and Fellow of King\u2019s College.
\nCf. Aeschylus Works<\/a> at Elpenor.
\n—<\/p>\n

The intensity of lyric prophecy<\/strong><\/p>\n

The first passage I have chosen is from the first choral ode of the Agamemnon<\/a>, and it is the last two lines of Calchas\u2019 prophecy. It is lyric poetry, to be sung with musical accompaniment by the chorus, and I will offer first a transcription:<\/p>\n

mimnei gar phobera palinortos oikonomos dolia mnamo\u00afn me\u00afnis teknopoinos.<\/p>\n

[Ellopos’ note: the text in the original Greek characters (ed. Murray):
\n \u03bc\u1f77\u03bc\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c6\u03bf\u03b2\u03b5\u03c1\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u1f77\u03bd\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u1f79\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03bf\u03bb\u1f77\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bd\u1f71\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03bd\u1f79\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2<\/em>
\n]<\/p>\n

Lloyd-Jones translates as follows:<\/p>\n

For there abides, terrible, ever again arising, a keeper of the house guileful, unforgetting, Wrath child-avenging.<\/p>\n

Fagles, however, translates:<\/p>\n

Here she waits the terror raging back and back in the future the stealth, the law of the hearth, the mother \u2013 Memory womb of Fury child-avenging Fury!<\/p>\n

The situation will be recalled: the omen of the eagles has led Calchas to worry that another terrible sacrifice will be required. These lines express the reason why he has such a fear. It is a passage central to the idea of the household\u2019s curse, to the narrative of revenge and to the themes of terror, intrafamilial violence and the effects of the past on the present.<\/p>\n

Its complexity \u2013 that allows two such different translations! \u2013 stems from its syntax, its vocabulary and the way its imagery is linked into the whole narrative of the trilogy. Let me gloss the passage: mimnei gar, \u2018for there remains\u2019: emphatically placed first word, the verb \u2018there remains\u2019 indicates a constancy within the pattern of events that have already been described. This verb will also be used, for example, for the inevitable pattern of reversal and revenge that is Zeus\u2019s law (Aga. 1563\u20134): mimnei de mimnontos en throno\u00afi Dios, pathein ton erxanta, \u2018It remains a sign of Zeus who remains on his throne, that the doer suffers.\u2019 So, it occurs throughout the trilogy as characters search for stability amid the shifting determination of events. Here, then, the reason offered why another sacrifice might be required is because of what remains constant.<\/p>\n

The subject of this verb is all the remaining words of the passage. What remains is, first, phobera, \u2018fearsome\u2019. We have seen how terror is a pervasive mood haunting the Oresteia. Here, what remains is immediately frightening \u2013 this passage looks forward to all those future fears for which the omen and the curse play such a part. What remains is also palinortos. Unlike the first three words of the line, this is an extremely uncommon poetic adjective (that, in fact, occurs only here in surviving Greek texts). It suggests \u2018rising up back again\u2019.<\/p>\n

Palin, the first part of what is a compound adjective, implies precisely the logic of reversal and repetition (\u2018back again\u2019) central to revenge; and the verb stem from which -ortos comes suggests \u2018rising\u2019, \u2018rushing\u2019, \u2018incited\u2019 \u2013 that is, what remains is also active and activated, hence Fagles\u2019 \u2018back and back in the future\u2019, a bold attempt to capture the force of the adjective.<\/p>\n

What remains is also oikonomos. Here is the first noun of the sentence. Oikonomos means \u2018household manager\u2019 (the term from which \u2018economics\u2019 is derived). The noun directs attention to the oikos as the focus of the narrative. Although Agamemnon is with the army, the sacrifice is caused by something that directs the household. It is this term, primarily, that provides the sense of a specifically familial horror. It is also a surprising term that suggests both the household manager Clytemnestra (whom we have heard of ordering \u2013 managing \u2013 the watchman) and the idea of a more general force directing the household members (the overlap suggests how Clytemnestra fulfils a role in the family history and how the family history finds an instrument in Clytemnestra).<\/p>\n

The other noun in the sentence, however, is me\u00afnis, \u2018wrath\u2019, \u2018violent anger\u2019. This is the first word of the Iliad and one of its key themes \u2013 the violent, destructive anger of the hero Achilles. In that work, it is used only of Achilles and the gods and stresses a particular force of rage. With these two nouns, however, we must note the difficulty of the syntax, and in two ways. First, it is quite unclear which of the two nouns is subject of the sentence, which in apposition. That is, does it mean \u2018violent anger remains, a fearful rising back up again household manager\u2019; or does it mean \u2018the fearful rising back up again household manager remains, violent anger\u2019?<\/p>\n

Secondly, it is unclear which noun is qualified by the two adjectives, dolia and mnamo\u00afn, that come between the two nouns (or whether dolia is even a noun, \u2018a deceptive woman\u2019). Most editors take dolia with oikonomos and mnamo\u00afn with me\u00afnis, \u2018deceptive household manager\u2019, \u2018remembering wrath\u2019, but it remains strictly uncertain, and possibly both adjectives can qualify both nouns.<\/p>\n

Fagles attempts to maintain the ambiguity by translating dolia as \u2018the stealth\u2019 and leaving it juxtaposed to the other words of the sentence; Lloyd-Jones by closely following the word order of the Greek. Dolia means \u2018deceptive\u2019 and when taken closely with oikonomos suggests both the specific deception of Clytemnestra, and the way in which the narrative of revenge in the house will repeatedly depend on deception. It is precisely dolia peitho\u00af, \u2018deceptive persuasion\u2019 that the chorus prays to help Orestes as he enters the palace. Oikonomos dolia, \u2018deceptive household manager\u2019, may also recall, however, by contrast Penelope, Odysseus\u2019 wife, who maintains her house by deception in the Odyssey. (We have seen the inevitable association between the two households in Greek literature since the Odyssey.) As much as Orestes is a model for Telemachus in the Odyssey, so Penelope and Clytemnestra are explicitly contrasted more than once in the epic. Oikonomos dolia,
\n\u2018deceptive household manager\u2019, points thus to the different evaluations of deceptive women within the exemplary text of the patriarchal oikos. If dolia is taken closely with me\u00afnis, \u2018deceptive wrath\u2019, however, it indicates the way in which the violent anger which motivates revenge hides itself and uses deception to achieve its end.<\/p>\n

Mnamo\u00afn denotes \u2018remembering\u2019 and strengthens the sense of mimnei, \u2018remains\u2019. What remains does not pass into obscurity or neglect over time (but \u2018rises back up again\u2019). If it is taken closely with oikonomos, it implies both the way that Clytemnestra has nurtured her hatred over the years, and the way in which Agamemnon\u2019s ten-year absence from the house will not prevent the curse of the house recalling his transgression and demanding payment. If it is taken closely with me\u00afnis, it implies that the \u2018violent anger\u2019 does not pass into reconciliation (as, say, at the end of the Iliad) but harbours its rage.<\/p>\n

The final adjective is teknopoinos and, like so many compound adjectives in Greek, it can have an active and a passive sense, both \u2018avenging a child\u2019 and \u2018avenged by a child\u2019. What I have translated as \u2018avenging\u2019\/\u2018avenged\u2019, namely poin-, is a term that repeatedly occurs in the trilogy and connotes both punishment and payment \u2013 central to the social language of exchange and justice. The word \u2018child\u2019, teknon, it need hardly be emphasized, is one of the commonest terms in the trilogy: we have already seen how it becomes invested with special force not merely in the discussions of the trial scene, but also in the language of childbirth and of parental characteristics that is used to express the connection between events in precisely the narrative of punishment and payment (poin-).<\/p>\n

The ambiguity between active and passive readings of the adjective is highly significant. For the history of revenge is also a history of violence between the generations, where parents and children repeatedly act against each other and to avenge each other. Agamemnon kills his daughter, and Clytemnestra takes revenge for her death. Orestes kills his mother, a child avenging a parent, and even Aegisthus sees his role in the death of Agamemnon as repaying on the child of Atreus the sins of Atreus against the children of Thyestes, Aegisthus\u2019 father. The final adjective of this line encapsulates in its ambiguity the narrative of inter-generational violence, and the narrative of repeated punishment.<\/p>\n

The first two words of Calchas\u2019 prophetic statement, then, promise an explanation (gar, \u2018for\u2019) and state that something remains. As the sentence progresses, however, both the involved syntax and the layered implications of the vocabulary transform the explanation into an obscure and darkening impression of the motive force directing this narrative. The combination of the lyric compactness and prophetic allusiveness produces an expression that connects a set of terms in a network of inter-relations that continue to find further significance throughout the Oresteia. Such intricate and intense poetry is typical of Aeschylean choral lyric, particularly in the Oresteia: the linguistic texture weaves together with a conceptual patterning to produce a powerful all-embracing expression of things, a cosmology.<\/p>\n

Violent exchange: dramatic dialogue<\/strong><\/p>\n

The second passage I wish to consider is taken from the Choephoroi<\/a> and it is a passage from the highly dramatic dialogue as Clytemnestra and Orestes come face to face. Again I will first transliterate the Greek and then offer a translation, this time from Grene and Lattimore (though without their stage-directions):<\/p>\n

Clyt. ti esti khre\u00afma? tina boe\u00afn histe\u00afs domois?
\nServant. ton zo\u00afnta kainein tous tethne\u00afkotas lego\u00af.
\nClyt. oi\u2019 go\u00af, xune\u00afka toupos ex ainigmato\u00afn. dolois oloumeth\u2019 ho\u00afsper oun ekteinamen. doie\u00af tis androkme\u00afta pelekun ho\u00afs takhos. eido\u00afmen ei niko\u00afmen e\u00af niko\u00afmetha. entautha gar de\u00af toud\u2019 aphikome\u00afn kakou.
\nOrestes. se kai mateuo\u00af. to\u00afide d\u2019arkounto\u00afs ekhei.
\nClyt. oi\u2019 go\u00af, tethne\u00afkas, philtat\u2019 Aigisthou bia.
\nOrestes. phileis ton andra? toigar en tauto\u00afi tapho\u00afi keise\u00afi, thanonta d\u2019 outi me\u00af prodo\u00afis pote.<\/p>\n

[Ellopos’ note: the text in the original Greek characters (ed. Murray):
\n\u039a\u03bb. \u03c4\u1f77 \u03b4\u0384 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76 \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1\u037e \u03c4\u1f77\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b2\u03bf\u1f74\u03bd \u1f35\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f79\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\u037e
\n\u039f\u03b9. \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b6\u1ff6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f77\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5\u03b8\u03bd\u03b7\u03ba\u1f79\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bb\u1f73\u03b3\u03c9.
\n\u039a\u03bb. \u03bf\u1f32 \u0384\u03b3\u1f7d\u0375 \u03be\u03c5\u03bd\u1fc6\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f54\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03be \u03b1\u1f30\u03bd\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u1f71\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd. \u03b4\u1f79\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f40\u03bb\u03bf\u1f7b\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u0384\u0375 \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u1f77\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd. \u03b4\u03bf\u1f77\u03b7 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03ba\u03bc\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u1f73\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c5\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f71\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2\u0387 \u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u0375 \u1f22 \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f7d\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u03b1. \u1f10\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u1fe6\u03b8\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\u03b4\u0384 \u1f00\u03c6\u03b9\u03ba\u1f79\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6.
\n\u039f\u03c1. \u03c3\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u1f7b\u03c9\u0387 \u03c4\u1ff7\u03b4\u03b5 \u03b4\u0384 \u1f00\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u1f7b\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9.
\n\u039a\u03bb. \u03bf\u1f32 \u0384\u03b3\u1f7d. \u03c4\u1f73\u03b8\u03bd\u03b7\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2\u0375 \u03c6\u1f77\u03bb\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u0384\u0375 \u0391\u1f30\u03b3\u1f77\u03c3\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b2\u1f77\u03b1.
\n\u039f\u03c1. \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u037e \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u1f71\u03c6\u1ff3 \u03ba\u03b5\u1f77\u03c3\u1fc3. \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u1f79\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u0384 \u03bf\u1f54\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u1ff7\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5.
\n]<\/p>\n

Clyt. What is this and why are you shouting in the house?
\nServant. I tell you, he is alive and killing the dead.
\nClyt. Ah so. You speak in riddles but I read the rhyme. \/ We have been won with treachery by which we slew. \/ Bring me quick, somebody, an axe to kill a man, \/ And we shall see if we can beat him before we go down \u2013 so far gone are we in this wretched fight.
\nOrestes. You next: the other one in there has had enough.
\nClyt. Beloved, strong Aegisthus, are you dead indeed?
\nOrestes. You love your man? You shall lie in the same grave \/ With him, and never be unfaithful even in death.<\/p>\n

Clytemnestra asks what the noise in the house is and the servant replies with a riddling utterance which not only avoids the names of Aegisthus and Orestes, but also syntactically could be translated either \u2018the dead are killing the living\u2019 or \u2018the living are killing the dead\u2019 \u2013 an ambiguity inevitably lost in English. (In each case, \u2018the dead\u2019, tous tethne\u00afkotas, is a plural term, \u2018the living\u2019, ton zo\u00afnta, singular.)<\/p>\n

The first interpretation is that which is to be privileged; it implies both that Orestes, believed dead, is killing Aegisthus; and, further, that Agamemnon, whose help from the tomb was invoked and conjured in the kommos, is being avenged; and even that the whole history of death in the house is claiming another victim. Clytemnestra solves the riddle and perceives immediately the logic of revenge and reversal: dolois oloumeth\u2019 ho\u00afsper oun ekteinamen, \u2018we are being destroyed by deception [dolois] as we killed\u2019, or as Grene and Lattimore put it, \u2018we have been won with treachery by which we slew\u2019. As we have seen, communication is a central theme of the Oresteia, and as Clytemnestra\u2019s verbal dexterity led Agamemnon to his doom, and as a verbal trick has allowed Orestes safe access to the palace, and a changed message has tricked Aegisthus to return unguarded to his death, so a riddle \u2013 a deceptive utterance that reveals the truth \u2013 is the means by which Clytemnestra learns of her impending fate. Throughout the Oresteia, there are riddles and solutions, riddles that remain riddles \u2013 all these are scenes of sign-reading. This dialogue, apparently unnecessarily framed as a riddle and solution, directs attention to a link in the narrative chain, a thematic continuity.<\/p>\n

The destruction by deception, dolois, not only recalls the deceptive (dolia) element of the curse I discussed in the previous passage, but also specifically Orestes\u2019 own description of Apollo\u2019s command (Cho. 556\u20137), where he says \u2018as they killed an honoured man by deception [dolo\u00afi], so they are to be taken by a deception [dolo\u00afi]\u2019. Clytemnestra\u2019s words unwittingly also fulfil the terms of Apollo\u2019s oracle. Human language is more telling than the speaker can know.<\/p>\n

Clytemnestra calls for someone to bring her as quickly as possible an androkme\u00afta pelekun, \u2018an axe to kill a man\u2019, as Grene and Lattimore translate. The adjective androkme\u00afta, \u2018man-killing\u2019, \u2018man-wearying\u2019, points towards the gender struggle in two ways.<\/p>\n

First, it recalls her killing of her \u2018man\u2019, her husband (andro- means both \u2018man\u2019 and \u2018husband\u2019); secondly, the axe is to be a defence against Orestes, who is trying to achieve the status of \u2018man\u2019 \u2013 the full status of adult male in charge of his own house. She expresses this conflict with her son as \u2018Let us see if we have the victory [niko\u00afmen] or the victory is over us [niko\u00afmetha]\u2019 (the repetition of the same verb is unfortunately lost in Grene and Lattimore\u2019s version).<\/p>\n

This idea of nike\u00af, \u2018victory\u2019, is extremely important in the Oresteia, primarily for the way it is repeatedly used to express the sense of struggle for dominance in conflict. \u2018Victory\u2019 is the aim of each agon \u2013 until Athene and the Furies, where Athene says (Eum. 795), \u2018For you have not given up the victory, ou gar nenikesth.\u2019 Here, Clytemnestra captures perfectly the sense of mutually exclusive possibilities of the polarized gender conflict: either absolute victory or absolute defeat. Nike\u00af, \u2018victory\u2019, however, also constantly resonates with that other key term of the narrative of conflict, dike\u00af.<\/p>\n

So, Athene continues to the Furies after the trial\u2019s vote \u2018For you have not given up the victory… all\u2019 isopse\u00afphos dike\u00af\u2019, \u2018but the dike\u00af has been of equal votes\u2019. As Orestes arrives as the agent of dike\u00af, the sense of dike\u00af as revenge, destruction or punishment is significantly qualified by the description of the conflict as the pursuit of nike\u00af.<\/p>\n

Orestes enters: se kai mateuo\u00af, \u2018You I track too.\u2019 Grene and Lattimore leave out the verb, but mateuo\u00af, \u2018I track\u2019, is properly used of dogs on the scent, and thus Orestes represents himself as hunter (as he will become the hunted victim of the \u2018dogs of his mother\u2019). The \u2018tricky hunter\u2019 (dolois . . . mateuo\u00af) is a figure often associated in Greek culture with the hunt of the young male as he is being initiated into the world of the adult men (Vidal-Naquet). As Orestes approaches the killing of his mother, he is also depicted as approaching the status of manhood. The man-killing axe may prevent him reaching manhood.<\/p>\n

Clytemnestra recognizes from Orestes\u2019 dismissive comment (to\u00afide d\u2019arkounto\u00afs ekhei, \u2018he\u2019s had enough\u2019 \u2013 a dismissal typical of the lack of concern with which Aegisthus\u2019 death is treated in Aeschylus as opposed to in Homer) that her \u2018most beloved\u2019, philtat\u2019, is dead. Orestes picks up both her terms philtat\u2019 and androkme\u00afta, \u2018man-wearying\u2019, as he asks phileis ton andra, \u2018You love this man?\u2019 Yet it is misleading to translate the verb phileis simply as \u2018you love\u2019, as it so often is. For the term implies in Greek a sense of mutual obligation and duty more than an affective or romantic tie. Orestes, by using the term, is emphasizing his reaction to her adultery as a social transgression \u2013 a crime against her husband (andra) and a failure of her obligations and duty to the household. So, he concludes with fine rhetoric, \u2018Then you will lie in the same tomb. Never again betray the dead man [thanonta].\u2019<\/p>\n

Grene and Lattimore\u2019s translation \u2018never be unfaithful even in death\u2019 (apart from adding the emphasis of \u2018even\u2019) misses the point of thanonta, \u2018the dead man\u2019, because it refers at one level to Aegisthus with whom she will ever lie in death \u2013 faithful to her adultery; but on another level it refers to Agamemnon, the other dead man, whom she will never again betray (with Aegisthus). Orestes\u2019 remark recalls the servant\u2019s riddle of \u2018the dead are killing the living\u2019, as Clytemnestra is killed for killing her man. Orestes\u2019 comment, then, stresses the adultery as much as the murder as the reason for her punishment.<\/p>\n

This is a piece of highly charged dramatic dialogue that is both fast and forceful. It is also an intricately layered exchange which situates the stage action of the confrontation of mother and son within a network of thematic structures. I have described at length the way in which Aeschylus develops a highly involved view of human action: here we can see how the language of dialogue at a moment of crucial dramatic action works to develop this sense of the complex nature of events.<\/p>\n

Political rhetoric<\/strong><\/p>\n

For my final passage I wish to look at some lines from the Eumenides<\/a> where Athene establishes the court of the Areopagus. It is in such writing that Aeschylus\u2019 direct involvement with the polis, his audience, has been most repeatedly discussed; it will also offer an opportunity, after a lyric ode and a piece of dialogue, to consider a lengthy set speech (rhe\u00afsis), another basic part of Aeschylean dramaturgy. I can, however, consider only a few lines from the speech here. Athene has described the setting of the Areopagus as the hill (pagos) where Theseus, king of Athens, sacrificed to the god of war (Ares) before his battle with the Amazons. The establishment of the court is thus immediately linked into the corpus of the city\u2019s myths. Theseus is a founding figure of the polis of Athens as a polis. The Amazons (depicted on so many temples and other art works) are archetypally negative female figures who reverse all the expectations of a female\u2019s role, not least in their violent, armed hostility to men: this may, then, be thought to be significantly invoked before the trial of Clytemnestra. Athene continues (Eum. 690\u20139):<\/p>\n

en de to\u00afi sebas asto\u00afn phobos te xungene\u00afs to me\u00af adikein skhe\u00afsei to t\u2019 e\u00afmar kai kat\u2019 euphrone\u00afn homo\u00afs, auto\u00afn polito\u00afn me\u00af \u2019pikainonto\u00afn nomous; kakais epirroaisi borboro\u00afi th\u2019 hudo\u00afr lampron miaino\u00afn oupoth\u2019 heure\u00afseis poton. to me\u00aft\u2019 anarkhon me\u00afte despotoumenon astois peristellousi bouleuo\u00af sebein kai me\u00af to deinon pan poleo\u00afs exo\u00afbalein.<\/p>\n

[Ellopos’ note: the text in the original Greek characters (ed. Murray):
\n \u1f10\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c3\u1f73\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c6\u1f79\u03b2\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03be\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u1f74\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f00\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c3\u03c7\u1f75\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f79 \u03c4\u0384 \u1f26\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u0384 \u03b5\u1f50\u03c6\u03c1\u1f79\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u1f41\u03bc\u1ff6\u03c2\u0375 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u0384\u03c0\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u1f7b\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bd\u1f79\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b9\u0387 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b2\u1f79\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03b4\u0384 \u1f55\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1 \u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u1f77\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f54\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u0384 \u03b5\u1f51\u03c1\u1f75\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u1f79\u03bd. \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f75\u03c4\u0384 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u1f75\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u1f7b\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1f73\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u1f7b\u03c9 \u03c3\u1f73\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u0375 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03c0\u1f79\u03bb\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03be\u03c9 \u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd.<\/em>
\n]<\/p>\n

Tony Harrison\u2019s version of the Oresteia, produced first at the National Theatre, London, has this:<\/p>\n

The people\u2019s reverence and the fear they\u2019re born with will restrain them day and night from acts of injustice as long as they don\u2019t foul their own laws with defilement. No one should piss in the well they draw drink from. Anarchy! Tyranny! Let both be avoided nor banish fear from your city entirely.<\/p>\n

Every word of this passage is charged with significance both from the narrative of the play and from its political context in the theatre. Sebas, translated \u2018reverence\u2019, indicates the \u2018respect\u2019 which allows hierarchical order to be maintained. It is precisely lack of sebas in the Choephoroi that characterized the disorder in the house of Agamemnon. Now the term spreads from the household to the political sphere of the Athenian \u2018people\u2019 \u2013 asto\u00afn, the general term which includes free-born men and women. There may be a fascinating ambiguity, however, in the phrase sebas asto\u00afn. For does it imply \u2018the respect of citizens\u2019 for the Areopagus \u2013 that is, law-abidingness depends on the citizens\u2019 respect for the institutions of law? Or does it imply the respect for the citizens that the Areopagus is to show \u2013 that is, an executive judicial body in a democracy is accountable to the people, and the law-court itself must respect the citizens? Either reading is semantically and grammatically possible \u2013 and the ambiguity significantly traces the range of political opinions present in the turmoil of the reforms of the Areopagus. Who is to be accountable to whom?<\/p>\n

Along with respect comes phobos, \u2018fear\u2019: the term which has pervaded the Oresteia now becomes a positive emotion in the prevention of injustice. This fear is xungene\u00afs, which may imply \u2018kindred\u2019, that is \u2018of the same race\u2019, as the \u2018respect\u2019; or it may mean \u2018in-born\u2019, that \u2018they\u2019re born with\u2019 \u2013 the inherited characteristic of the race which has been a thematic focus of the narrative, as we have seen. Now it is a propensity to avoid wrong-doing (adikein, the negative of dike\u00af) that is passed on with the new institution of law. This \u2018respect and fear\u2019 will prevent crime \u2018day and night\u2019. This is not just an expression for
\n\u2018always\u2019, but also recalls the imagery of light and darkness that is so common in the Oresteia, imagery which has developed an association of crime with darkness, obscurity, hidden deceptions. (So, too, the Furies are daughters of Night.) Seen or unseen, this restraint of wrong-doing will operate. Yet its operation depends on the citizens (polito\u00afn, the full term for \u2018citizens\u2019) not innovating or fouling their laws. (The Greek verb is unfortunately meaningless through manuscript corruption: \u2018innovate\u2019 translates the commonest emendation; Harrison\u2019s \u2018foul\u2019 a less common suggestion.) This political message is supported by an appeal to the world of nature: clean water for drinking is not to be polluted with \u2018evil influxes\u2019 \u2013 \u2018piss\u2019, as Harrison characteristically puts it. The \u2018natural\u2019 values of purity and cleanliness as opposed to evil and pollution bolster the goddess\u2019 institution.<\/p>\n

Yet what is the political message? Some critics have claimed that Athene speaks quite generally: a well-organized society is distinguished by the stability of its legal system. In particular, the Athenian law on homicide could not \u2013 by law \u2013 be changed (Macleod). Yet since this is a speech on the Areopagus and the political debates over the Areopagus had been so violent in Athens, most critics have seen Athene\u2019s remarks as more pointed. Yet here too debate has been heated. Some critics have seen Aeschylus as speaking out against the reform of the Areopagus, since the court receives in Athene\u2019s speech such praise, and so strong is the injunction not to innovate: the court is, she says, established for all time. Other critics, however, have pointed out that Ephialtes\u2019 reforms made changes to the Areopagus on the ground that \u2018accretions\u2019 had to be removed: the Areopagus should be returned to its original and proper function. Thus, it is argued, when Athene warns the citizens, here at the first trial by the Areopagus, not to make innovations in the laws of her institution, the goddess of the city is to be seen as supporting Ephialtes\u2019 democratic programme (Dover). Other critics yet think that while the Ephialtic reforms are accepted, this speech warns against any further change, since further reforms were in the air in 458 B.C.<\/p>\n

Now, much of Athene\u2019s speech addresses the ideals of the democratic polis. So the belief in \u2018respect\u2019, \u2018justice\u2019, \u2018the laws\u2019 leads in the remaining lines to a ringing denunciation of both anarchy and tyranny (words which closely echo the Furies\u2019 own advice on justice, who had sung (525\u20136) \u2018Praise neither the anarchic life nor life under a tyrant\u2019, me\u00aft\u2019anarkton bion me\u00afte despotoumenon ainese\u00afis). This polarization of lawlessness and tyranny constructs democracy as the necessary and proper middle ground. This is the counsel (bouleuo\u00af) of Athene, her official advice, that neither \u2018respect\u2019 (sebein, recalling sebas) nor \u2018the awesome\u2019 (to deinon, parallel to phobos, \u2018fear\u2019) \u2013 both terms are rendered as \u2018fear\u2019 by Harrison \u2013 should be cast from the polis, the frame of the speech. The explicit remark about innovation and the law, then, is surrounded by a repeated appeal to respect and dread as political virtues \u2013 the most general and non-partisan of evaluative terms (Dodds; Meier). Any specific point is thus framed by a general concern for the well-being of the city.<\/p>\n

Athene\u2019s emphasis here and elsewhere on national well-being and the avoidance of civic discord and wrong-doing makes it hard to discover a single \u2018partisan\u2019 political viewpoint with any security; so too the specific remarks on innovation, as we have seen, are open to different readings. Perhaps it is best, then, to conclude with Sommerstein that \u2018each spectator will understand it in the light of his own preconceptions\u2019. Or, as with the other aspects of Aeschylean poetry and drama that I have been discussing in this book, the political discourse of the Oresteia maps out a site of engagement, not a scene of straight-forward didacticism.<\/p>\n

—
\nFrom Aeschylus: The Oresteia (Landmarks of World Literature)<\/a>.
\nSimon Goldhill is Professor of Greek, University of Cambridge, and Fellow of King\u2019s College.
\nCf. Aeschylus Works<\/a> at Elpenor.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

From Aeschylus: The Oresteia (Landmarks of World Literature). Simon Goldhill is Professor of Greek, University of Cambridge, and Fellow of King\u2019s College. Cf. Aeschylus Works at Elpenor. — The intensity of lyric prophecy The first passage I have chosen is from the first choral ode of the Agamemnon, and it is the last two lines […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_disable_autopaging":false},"categories":[5,317,11],"tags":[211,3723,2091,3742,3729,69,3728,3741],"class_list":["post-1576","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-education","category-greek-language","category-elpenor-greek-library","tag-aeschylus","tag-aeschylus-the-oresteia","tag-agamemnon","tag-goldhill","tag-lloyd-jones","tag-lyric-poetry","tag-mother-memory","tag-oresteia"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1576","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1576"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1576\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1576"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1576"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ellopos.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1576"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}