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For Good comes in Evil's traces.
And the Evil the Good replaces
And Life, 'mid the changing faces,
Wandereth weak and blind.
Sadly, the bastard son of Theseus, Hippolytus cannot compare to Medea, and the first we hear from him is through a misogyny-tinged tirade against Aphrodite (who had quite literally already cursed him!), all women, and the passion that is of them that was so strikingly dull to me I stopped reading for a few days.
The second half of the drama, following Phaedra’s death, was more excitable. After Theseus finds an engraved wax tablet on Phaedra’s wrist, he reads out her (false) death declaration that Hippolytus had SA her, and uses one of his three wishes granted to him by Poseidon to brand his son with despair and misery. Poseidon’s wrath is first seen through a wave of impossible height. I was taken by the image of its silent creep, its unceasing glide, drawing closer, a noiseless motion felt alone in the spirit of those who see it, like a glance. The great wave crests and pulls Sciron’s Cliff into itself before crashing (the glance shuts to a blink, and in that blink, in a god’s blink, an explosion has already happened) and sea spray bursts forth a raving sea-monster that drives Hippolytus’ horses mad from terror. His chariot topples, he is entangled in the horses reigns, and is dragged to his demise.
Similar to Medea, the death (or in Hippolytus’ case near-death) event is described by a witnessing third party. Again, in my experience with Euripides, there was this incitement of horror and fascination that one is locked with when witnessing a God’s intervention, the very ideas of a God. Not through their presence but the grand level of their actions. Incomprehensible creatures, unstoppable marvels. One thinks of the Egyptian Sun God Horus, an enormous disk with wings, one turns their head with a pained confusion from the Book of Revelation. Ophanim, Seraphim, Isaiah’s vision.
I appreciated Hippolytus commenting on his status, or rather lack of status, as he is Theseus’ bastard son. In these epic Greek stories, I don’t see a lot of that- characters embracing their “commonness”. At one point he says to Theseus, living beside the good, hard-working men among him and truly connecting with them, is far more fulfilling than any crown or throne. It softened the character for me, as does most of his sentiment he shows during Thesues’ blind accusations of him. I actually ended up with a certain fondness of Hippolytus by the end of the drama. There’s something very strong and reliable in his characterization. He ends up having an honorable death, a important affair to Ancient Greeks, and speaks firm within himself and his beliefs even when Theseus turns on him. Theseus cannot see past his own nose and acts as ill-tempered as Aphrodite in the beginning of the play.
Artemis’ intervention only furthers this idea that all the events are God-willed, as the grandest of truth and deceptions of the drama are revealed and eventually canonized in ritualistic song. (She arrived a little to late to the party, imo, but she just rolls her eyes saying had to let Aphrodite do her thing. Hmmmm the gods are MESSY)
Myth is an unpacking tool in society’s relationship with “God”, which I think is one of the main reasons I have been drawn to it.
And the Evil the Good replaces
And Life, 'mid the changing faces,
Wandereth weak and blind.
Sadly, the bastard son of Theseus, Hippolytus cannot compare to Medea, and the first we hear from him is through a misogyny-tinged tirade against Aphrodite (who had quite literally already cursed him!), all women, and the passion that is of them that was so strikingly dull to me I stopped reading for a few days.
The second half of the drama, following Phaedra’s death, was more excitable. After Theseus finds an engraved wax tablet on Phaedra’s wrist, he reads out her (false) death declaration that Hippolytus had SA her, and uses one of his three wishes granted to him by Poseidon to brand his son with despair and misery. Poseidon’s wrath is first seen through a wave of impossible height. I was taken by the image of its silent creep, its unceasing glide, drawing closer, a noiseless motion felt alone in the spirit of those who see it, like a glance. The great wave crests and pulls Sciron’s Cliff into itself before crashing (the glance shuts to a blink, and in that blink, in a god’s blink, an explosion has already happened) and sea spray bursts forth a raving sea-monster that drives Hippolytus’ horses mad from terror. His chariot topples, he is entangled in the horses reigns, and is dragged to his demise.
Similar to Medea, the death (or in Hippolytus’ case near-death) event is described by a witnessing third party. Again, in my experience with Euripides, there was this incitement of horror and fascination that one is locked with when witnessing a God’s intervention, the very ideas of a God. Not through their presence but the grand level of their actions. Incomprehensible creatures, unstoppable marvels. One thinks of the Egyptian Sun God Horus, an enormous disk with wings, one turns their head with a pained confusion from the Book of Revelation. Ophanim, Seraphim, Isaiah’s vision.
I appreciated Hippolytus commenting on his status, or rather lack of status, as he is Theseus’ bastard son. In these epic Greek stories, I don’t see a lot of that- characters embracing their “commonness”. At one point he says to Theseus, living beside the good, hard-working men among him and truly connecting with them, is far more fulfilling than any crown or throne. It softened the character for me, as does most of his sentiment he shows during Thesues’ blind accusations of him. I actually ended up with a certain fondness of Hippolytus by the end of the drama. There’s something very strong and reliable in his characterization. He ends up having an honorable death, a important affair to Ancient Greeks, and speaks firm within himself and his beliefs even when Theseus turns on him. Theseus cannot see past his own nose and acts as ill-tempered as Aphrodite in the beginning of the play.
Artemis’ intervention only furthers this idea that all the events are God-willed, as the grandest of truth and deceptions of the drama are revealed and eventually canonized in ritualistic song. (She arrived a little to late to the party, imo, but she just rolls her eyes saying had to let Aphrodite do her thing. Hmmmm the gods are MESSY)
Myth is an unpacking tool in society’s relationship with “God”, which I think is one of the main reasons I have been drawn to it.