The original vengeful woman. No one does it like her. Is she unhinged? Yes can I defend her actions? No. But if you vilify this woman one more time in my presence I will throw you off a cliff. Medea haters are misogynists and this statement needs no elaboration. You slay them girlboss queen!

(Wish I read a more poetic translation the first time tho.)

Medea is the story of Medea, wife to Jason (of Jason and the Argonauts, Jason and the Golden Fleece) etc. Medea aided Jason on his quest for the Golden Fleece, falling passionately in love with him and even killing her brother and (reputedly) dismembering his body so that they could flee her father who, being a good and just father, stopped to pick up the pieces of his son. Medea is generally regarded as a very intense, passionate woman. She’s the granddaughter of the Sun God Helios and therefore, not entirely human. Her love for Jason is all consuming and eventually, destructive.

In this play, Medea and Jason have fled to Corinth after the happenings of the Golden Fleece, where the King of Corinth, Creon, has given his daughter, Princess Glauce, to Jason to be his wife. Jason sets aside Medea to marry Glauce, rendering Medea so unstable that Creon correctly fears for his daughters life and orders Medea and her two children by Jason into exile. Medea, a rather master manipulator, asks for, and is granted by Creon, a day before she has to go into exile and this is all she needs to put her plan of vengeance into action.

Jason then enters to try and reason with Medea, explaining his motives for setting her aside and choosing to marry Glauce. They amount to basically the political gain but he swears that he would’ve made everyone ‘one big happy family’ and that if Medea hadn’t been so unreasonable, she could’ve stayed in Corinth (I think the inference is, as his mistress) and that her and the children would be well looked after and taken care of and that there would be no hostilities. Medea, as the spurned woman, rejects him and orders him leave but as her plan forms in her mind, she summons him back and asks him if her children might remain behind, be raised by him and not suffer for her sins. Jason agrees and Medea sends the two children to the Princess bearing gifts, golden robes and a crown, which are poisoned. She correctly guesses that Glauce will accept the gifts, being swayed by the beauty of the gold, which the Princess does. The gifts immediately poison her, stripping her flesh from her bones, melting her and as her distraught father rushes in and gathers her up, he is poisoned too.

Medea then decides that her two children must die, to make her revenge on Jason complete. Rather than leave them behind to either offer him some comfort in his grief, or possibly killed by the Corinthians for their innocent part in her plot, Medea murders them both with her own hands and then denies Jason the chance to bury them, taking their bodies with her as she flees to Athens in a chariot gifted to her by her grandfather the Sun God.

Medea was first performed in 431BC. It’s a short play, only about 30 pages in length and surprisingly easy to read. The hardest part for me was forgetting about it being 2011 and trying to read it in the way people watching it at the time would’ve taken it. Medea herself is portrayed as a sympathetic, albeit unstable character, who has married for love (unusual in this time) and given up everything for him. She killed her brother, she fled her homeland, has gone into exile, will never see her family again, all for Jason, only to be cast aside by him. In the time men could do this and women had very little say in these types of matters. Medea is considered a feminist play as the sympathetic portrayal of Medea relates to her helplessness in the male-dominated society. All her choices are taken away from her – her husband abandons her and then she is forced to go into exile. As she sees it, she has only one option left open to her now. That of revenge.

Still it’s hard as a mother (and as a rational human being) to excuse her actions reading it in this day and age. Her revenge is so complete, murdering Jason’s new wife, who presumably is just going along with her father’s wishes and marrying the man he has given to her, and also the King (possibly inadvertently there). Medea then goes one step further and murders her own children, which is where any sympathy for her ended. She had already secured an asylum earlier in the play, in exchange for helping the King of Athens with an infertility issue, and could’ve easily escaped with her children. Instead she chooses to murder them, and although she does claim so that they do not come to harm from others, I believe the majority of her reasoning is to further injure Jason. He loses not only his new young Princess wife, but also his two sons.

Jason himself is portrayed in the play as smug and kind of over-confident. Clearly although Medea proved her capacity for devotion (and also the lengths she will go to in order to get what she wants) in killing her own brother to assist him, he didn’t seem particularly worried that she would turn that vicious streak towards him, so he obviously wasn’t too bright either. Even the King was more wary of what she could do, but he erred gravely in granting her the day’s grace before her exile.

Euripedes wrote more than 100 plays. Only 17 of them survive. This volume contains Alcestis, Medea, The Children of Hercules and Hippolytus. Medea is probably the best known of the four. Hence it gets top billing in the title. It is the best of the four plays too I think. It is as dark as you'd expect based on the subject matter.

There is a good general introduction by Richard Rutherford and a short introduction to each play, which - with the notes - really helps contextualise what you are reading. It also helps identifies missing text and issues of comprehension. The past, as a writer whose name escapes me, is like a foreign country. They do things differently there.

Women - bad women - are often at the centre of Euripedes' plays. It was noted even near his time. Aristophanes takes the piss out of him for his hostility to women. Hippolytus gets a long speech railing against women that ends:

"I curse you all! Never will I have my fill of hating women, even though they say I never cease to speak of them. Do they ever cease from sinning? Let someone teach them to control their desires or leave me to trample them underfoot for ever!"

Which makes Hippolytus sound like a prototype incel.

However, the men in these plays are mostly proud, belligerent and - in Jason's case particularly - utter pricks. I mean Medea's response to Jason is utterly mad but Jason has run off with a younger woman, demands Medea leave their children with him and wants her banished from the city. Whether those crimes deserve the punishment Medea meats out to him is moot. Hippolytus is a prig, Theseus curses his son in a moment of rage and doesn't bother to check facts and Phaedra's 'love' for Hippolytus is triggered by a goddess with a grudge. There are victims of the Gods everywhere. Sometimes they hubristically bring it on themselves. But sometimes the punishments don't seem to fit the crime. Greek Gods are sensitive sorts who will bear a grudge.

These were an interesting read. I'd say Medea and Hippolytus are essential reading. Both as plays themselves and as long term influences on drama. Hippolytus begat Racine's Phaedra, which is a play often mentioned in Proust's "In Search of Lost Time."

See, it's all one book.

Glad I read them. I'd really like to see Medea live now.

A Greek tragedy is a Greek tragedy, helpful tautology to describe these reads.

What always fascinates me while reading such ancient writings is that they are incredible time machines; one can really experience the 'feel' of bygone ages. It is also very rewarding to take a look at the origins of literary devices that would become prominent cliches to western arts, such as the Deus ex Machina for Euripedes.

The plots are lovely, so shocking and outrageous for today standards, specially taboo regarding filial relationships. Our psychological troubles were several layers less complex, I would guess purer in a sense.

The stories serve an educational purpose; there is always a moral lessons underlining them that represent what ideals were highly regarded in classical Greek societies. Loyalty, hospitality and letting go trying to control relentless Nature are the most important for Euripedes. He was also very keen to explore the nature and role of women in society, it seems he was never really able to put a finger on them, but he tried.

i'm very disappointed to find that the present edition of the Chicago series has revised all of these valued mid-century translations in dubious ways and has even replaced some of them. the new Medea by Oliver Taplin is like a gloss for 12 year olds...

Gosh, don't cross Medea.

love vengeful, murderous women !


-tess

Well worth reading, in particular 'Medea' and 'Hippolytus', Euripides explores universal themes of vengance/savagery, patience/anger, and familial relations using excessive but poignant examples. He manages (especially in 'Medea') to draw out deep characterisation, philosophical and religious questions, plot and beuatiful language in a concise and well-paced manner.
Note: the introductions to the text are useful, but often better read after the text itself.

Alcestis: 4/5
The Medea: 5/5
The Heracleidea: 3.5/5
Hippolytus: 3.5/5

"Manhandled from a foreign land like so much pirate loot, here I have no mother, brother, relative, no one to offer me a port, a refuge from catastrophe."

I usually don't like tragedies, but the four in this book (Medea, Hecabe, Electra, and Heracles) were really good.

Medea: A short summary of this play is that Jason has brought Medea back from Colchis (Georgia) to Corinth. However, after 10 years of marriage and two children, he abandons her for Glauce, the daughter of Creon, the king of Corinth. Medea takes revenge by poisoning Glauce and Creon and killing her and Jason's two children. What makes this play interesting is how it sets up this drama as a showdown between Medea's "barbarian" (non-Greek) passion/emotion and Jason's Greek rationality. Seeing Medea's distress, Jason explains his thought process to Medea, and why abandoning her for Glauce is really the best move for everyone:
"My action [abandoning you] was wise, not swayed by passion, and directed towards your interests and my children’s... When I came here from Iolcus as a stateless exile, dogged and thwarted by misfortunes – why, what luckier chance could I have met, than marriage with the King’s daughter?... I wanted to ensure first – and the most important – that we should live well and not be poor... You need no more children, do you? I thought it worth while to ensure advantages for those I have, by means of those I hope to have. Was such a plan, then, wicked? Even you would approve if you could govern your sex-jealousy."
Of course, Jason's reasoning is completely specious, as Medea points out: "If you were honest, you ought first to have won me over, not got married behind my back." And moreover, and something that Jason is absolutely incapable of comprehending, is that no amount of reasoning, even good reasoning, can overcome his abandonment of his wife and children.
Medea responds to her betrayal with overwhelming emotion - first she cries for days on end. Then she hurls raging words at Jason, Creon, and Glauce, to the point that Creon decides to banish her. Jason tells her, "You could have stayed in Corinth, still lived in this house, if you had quietly accepted the decisions of those in power. Instead, you talked like a fool; and now you are banished." Having been abandoned by Jason, Medea is completely helpless - "I am alone; I have no city; now my husband insults me. I was taken as plunder from a land at the earth's edge." So there is something almost heroic in how she uses her desperation and murderous ingenuity to do the unthinkable and take control of the situation. She first sends a poisoned crown and dress to Glauce via her children; her gifts horrifically kill Glauce and Creon. Next, she stabs her own children to death. Jason can barely comprehend what Medea has done, especially to her own children.
"JASON: In all Hellas there is not one woman who could have done it; yet in preference to them I married you, chose hatred and murder for my wife – no woman, but a tiger; a Tuscan Scylla.
...
MEDEA: Hurl at me what names you please! I’ve reached your heart; and that is right.
JASON: You suffer too; my loss is yours no less.
MEDEA: It is true; but my pain’s a fair price, to take away your smile."
To me, those lines summarize the play. I think that this play is powerful because it depicts a battle that goes on in every one of us, between our rationality and our emotions. Throughout our lives we convince ourselves to do things we don't want to do in order to avoid trouble; all we have to do is "quietly accept the decisions of those in power." When faced with these sorts of decisions, we are often as helpless as Medea was, which is why we are expected to quietly acquiesce. The consequences of rebellion are typically unthinkable, as they would involve harming ourselves as much if not more than those in power. In order words, it goes against reason to rebel, which is why Jason says that "in all Hellas (a land of reason and moderation) there is not one woman who could have done it." The tragic heroism of Medea is that she goes against reason to rebel and assert control over her circumstances, even if it means murdering her own children.

Hecabe: Hecabe is another powerful play. To summarize, Polymestor, a Thracian king, was entrusted with Priam and Hecabe's youngest son, Polydorus, along with a lot of gold. Polymestor kills Polydorus to get his gold, and Polydorus's body washes up on the beach of the Greek camp. Meanwhile, Achilles' ghost has demanded the blood of Polyxena, a young daughter of Priam and Hecabe. These two deaths occur on the same day, and Hecabe blinds Polymestor and kills his children in revenge. The interesting aspect of this play is how it portrays two very different murders.
As Polyxena is ripped away from her mother, she could have chosen to resist fate and be taken screaming and kicking to her death. Her mother Hecabe is beside herself with grief: "In her lies my joy, in her I forget troubles, and find comfort for all I have lost. She is my city now; my nurse, my staff, my guide." And yet Polyxena somehow rises above her fate by embracing it.
"There in front of the grave stood the whole multitude
Of the Achaean army, to see the sacrifice.
Achilles’ son led Polyxena by the hand
Up to the summit of the mound. I stood close by.
Behind us, a picked group of young Achaeans stood
Ready to hold her if she struggled to escape.
[Neoptolemus] grasped
His sword by the gold hilt, drew it from the sheath, and signed
To the young men appointed, to take hold of her.
Polyxena saw; and this is what she said: ‘You Greeks,
Who laid my city in ruins, I die willingly.
Let no one lay hands on me; I will give my neck
Steadfastly to the sword. So, in the name of God,
Let me stand free, and kill me; then I shall die free.
Since I am royal, to be called slave among the dead
Would be dishonour.’"

By embracing her fate, she gains control of it in a way. The reaction of the Greeks is telling:
"Then, when the deadly stroke had ended her last breath,
Each Argive there found his own way to do her honour.
Some strewed fresh leaves over her body; some brought boughs
And built a pyre; while those who stood with empty hands
Were roundly abused. ‘What do you mean,’ the others cried,
‘By bringing nothing for Polyxena? Have you
No dress, no ornament to offer in her honour?
Hers was the most courageous, noble heart of all.’"

Hecabe then arranges her revenge on Polymestor by inviting him to her tent and setting upon him and his children with her servants. Unlike with Polyxena's sacrifice, it doesn't feel like this revenge brings any redemption. In fact, the blinded Polymestor delivers damning prophecies to both Hecabe and Agamemnon: That Hecabe will transform into a dog and fall into the sea, and that Agamemnon and Cassandra will be murdered by his wife.

Electra: Electra was an interesting play because it turns the old story on its head. This play recounts the second part of the Oresteia in which Orestes returns from exile to Argos and finds his sister Electra. Upon Electra's recognition of her brother, they make a plot and kill both Aegisthus and Clytemnestra. In Aeschylus, both Orestes and Electra are portrayed as dutiful and heroic. In Euripides' retelling, not so much. Electra is particularly unheroic - throughout the play she bemoans her poverty and her loss of dignity. As the introduction to the book says, it seems like she almost enjoys self-pity and cringes when the time for action/redemption arrives. She takes ages to recognize Orestes; she seems to willfully ignore heavy hints that Orestes is her brother. It takes their old shepherd friend to spell it out to her for her to finally acknowledge that Orestes is her brother. She then claims Clytemnestra's murder for herself, but when the time comes to actually stab her, she loses her grip on the sword and relies on Orestes to deliver the killing blow.
Meanwhile, the murders themselves are not feel-good murders as they are in Aeschylus. When Orestes finds Aegisthus, he is merrily preparing a sacrifice and feast. He hospitably invites Orestes and his companion Pylades to join in the sacrifice and celebration, only for the sacrifice to be turned into his own sacrifice. It feels dirty. Next, Electra lures Clytemnestra to her house by telling her that she has given birth. They have a heated exchange, in which Clytemnestra does a half-way decent job of justifying her murder of Agamemnon (mostly revolving around his sacrifice of their daughter Iphigenia). However, Electra destroys her argument by pointing out that Clytemnestra already had eyes for Aegisthus before Agamemnon had left for Troy. Electra finally invites her into the house where she and Orestes pounce on her. Once again, the murder feels dirty.
Clytemnestra's deified brothers Castor and Pollux then arrive at the scene. Castor summarizes the situation: "[Clytemnstra's] fate was just; but your act is not justified. Phoebus, yes, Phoebus – but he is my lord, so I am silent. He is wise; but his command to you was not wise."

Heracles: This play was just sad. In the first half, Heracles has left his father Amphitryon, his wife Megara, and his three children in Thebes under the protection of Megara's father Creon in order to go to Hades to drag the hell-hound Cerberus to the earth's surface. However, this task has taken years and Heracles is presumed dead. In the meantime, a tyrant named Lycus has taken over Thebes and is about to kill Heracles' helpless family. This play really toys with the emotions as we are so worried about Heracles' family, and they are only saved when Heracles arrives at the last second. This scene shows us just how vital Heracles is to his family - without him, they have nothing. With him, they have everything. When they were about to be killed, Megara summarizes it like this:
"You, eldest one,
Were to rule Argos, you were destined to possess
Eurystheus’ palace and the rich Pelasgian plains;
[Heracles] used to hang about your head the lion-skin cloak
Which was his own proud armour. You [turning to the second child] were king of Thebes
And all her chariots; these broad lands my father gave
To me, were your inheritance. You were his son:
You asked, he gave. Then he would place in your right hand,
Pretending it a gift, his huge carved fighting-club.
To you, his youngest, he would promise Oechalia,
The spoil, long since, of his far-conquering arrows. Thus,
Proudly and confidently, he planned for his three sons
Three firmly-founded thrones."
Without Heracles they were friendless nobodies, about to be killed at the whim of a tyrant; with Heracles, they were future lords of Greece.
This makes the next half of the play all the more tragic. Immediately after Heracles saves his family from the jaws of death, Hera sends Madness to infect Heracles's mind, and in a demented rage he confuses his own children for the children of his hated master Eurystheus and slaughters them all along with his wife. As the introduction to the play mentions, and interesting scene occurs after this slaughter when Heracles contemplates his bow:
"My bow! which I have loved, and lived with; and now loathe.
What shall I do – keep it, or let it go? This bow,
Hung at my side, will talk: ‘With me you killed your wife
And children; keep me, and you keep their murderer!’
Shall I then keep and carry it? With what excuse?
And yet – disarmed of this, with which I did such deeds
As none in Hellas equalled, must I shamefully
Yield to my enemies and die? Never! This bow
Is anguish to me, yet I cannot part with it."
In a way, Heracles comes to term with his anguish and guilt - he recognizes that it is suffering that he must live with, not run away from. He had already, for a time, given Atlas a break by carrying heaven on his shoulders, but his slaughter of his wife and children was the greatest burden he would ever have to bear.

MEMORABLE SCENES:

1. Medea gives Glauce a poisoned crown and dress. Glauce's death scene is a horrific spectacle. I can only imagine what it would look like with the full CGI treatment:
"two torments made war on [Glauce] together: first
The golden coronet round her head discharged a stream
Of unnatural devouring fire: while the fine dress
Your children gave her – poor miserable girl! – the stuff
Was eating her clear flesh. She leapt up from her chair,
On fire, and ran, shaking her head and her long hair
This way and that, trying to shake off the coronet.
The ring of gold was fitted close and would not move;
The more she shook her head the fiercer the flame burned.
At last, exhausted by agony, she fell to the ground;
Save to her father, she was unrecognizable.
Her eyes, her face, were one grotesque disfigurement;
Down from her head dripped blood mingled with flame; her flesh,
Attacked by the invisible fangs of poison, melted
From the bare bone, like gum-drops from a pine-tree’s bark –
A ghastly sight."

2. Heracles' hunting and slaughter of his children could easily be extended into a horror movie (let's call it Hercules 2):
"Amphitryon clung to his mighty hand, and cried, ‘O dearest son,
What is this madness? Surely killing Lycus here
Has not deranged you?’ Heracles imagined this
Was the father of Eurystheus clinging to his hand,
Trembling with fear. He pushed him back; handled his bow
And quiver, ready to shoot his own sons, thinking they
Were children of Eurystheus. Terrified, they rushed
This way and that; one hid behind his mother’s dress,
One in the shadow of a pillar, one behind
The altar cowered like a bird. Megara shrieked,
‘What are you doing? They’re your children!’ Amphitryon
And all the servants shrieked. Nimbly and swiftly he
Spun round the pillar, faced the child, and shot him dead.
He fell back gasping, spattering the stone with blood.
Heracles yelled in triumph; ‘There lies one,’ he cried,
‘One of Eurystheus’ cubs has paid his father’s debt.’
Down by the altar steps, hoping he was unseen,
Another boy was crouching. Heracles aimed at him;
The child was quicker – he darted to his father’s knees,
Reached for his beard and neck, and cried, ‘I am your son –
Yours, not Eurystheus’. Father dear, don’t kill your son!’
His father’s eyes were like a Gorgon’s – twisted, cruel.
He could not use his arrows – the boy stood too close;
So, like a blacksmith forging iron, he raised his club
High, and upon his son’s fair head he crashed it down,
Shattering the skull. His second victim dead, he now
Made for the third; but Megara swiftly snatched the child
Away, and rushed with him into an inner room
And locked the doors. He, just as if this were in truth
Mycenae and the Cyclopian walls, with pick and bar
Heaved, hammered, burst the door-posts, and with a single shot
Dispatched both wife and child."

greek mythology is the best thing ever and nobody can convince me otherwise. these plays were thoroughly enjoyable and humorous while also packed with interesting knowledge about the surrounding myths. medea is an absolute badass and people do not give her enough credit!