Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 46 (2006) 249–273 The Aeschylean Electra Janette Auer HE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA has been the subject of less inquiry into character than the other fifth-century tragic Electras, and those scholars who have com- mented on Aeschylus’ tragic heroine have shown little sym- pathy: she is colourless, weak, and manipulated by a chorus of slave women. Sir Hugh Lloyd-Jones, for example, says in his commentary: “Aeschylus has no interest in character for its own sake, and this fact is especially easy to perceive here. Electra, who in Sophocles and Euripides will be a dominating figure, has the conventional qualities of a princess in the heroic age.”1 He uses Electra as evidence for the lack of interest in character that is frequently attributed to Aeschylus.2 Professor Podlecki lowers her status to that of “normal”: “Of Electra little need or can be said. Aeschylus’ conception here is much closer to that of a normal if somewhat colourless girl.”3 Professor Conacher is of the opinion that: “What we notice about this Electra is the gentle and tentative nature of her approach to the grim situation.”4 Alain Moreau finds that Electra is really not very bright: “Far from wanting to kill, she does not even un- derstand the advice of the chorus when they summon her to vengeance.”5 One is given the impression by these critics that 1 H. Lloyd-Jones, Aeschylus: Oresteia. The Choephoroe (London 1979) 5. 2 J. Jones, On Aristotle and Greek Tragedy (London 1962), is the major study to be cited here, though Jones does not discuss Aeschylus’ Electra in detail. This paper is not intended to promote the idea that the characters of Aeschylus are close studies of particularized individual psyches, but that Electra in this play deserves much more attention as a strongly motivating factor in the revenge than she generally receives. 3 A. Podlecki, “Aeschylus’ Women,” Helios 10 (1983) 23–47, at 36. 4 D. J. Conacher, Aeschylus’ Oresteia: A Literary Commentary (Toronto 1987) 105. 5 A. Moreau, “Naissance d’Électre,” Pallas 31 (1984) 63–82, at 70. T 250 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA in the Aeschylean Electra, we have a rather boring character, and one wonders why such a person did not just quietly dis- appear from drama, which, as we know, is far from what happened. Helene Foley has emphasized the obligation of a woman in Greek culture to lament a family member’s death and es- pecially to keep alive in public memory any outrage against male kin, and she has used this insight as a base from which to delineate the powerful character of the Sophoclean Electra.6 Leaving aside Aristotle’s notion of the “type-dominated aes- thetic” in ancient tragic characterization,7 we are still faced with a dramatic puzzle: how could the Electra of Choephori, who was after all under the same social pressures and in the same dramatic circumstances as her later manifestations, have as- sumed such a different, indeed opposite character? Certainly playwrights can alter the mythic characters they choose to portray, but is it not more reasonable to ask whether Aeschylus should not have portrayed an Electra that had fundamentally more in common with those of Sophocles and Euripides, and perhaps created in his Electra an equally powerful and dom- inating figure, who laments and promotes revenge? This study asserts that Electra forges a conspiracy with the chorus, a stasis pankoinos in Aeschylus’ words (at line 458), which will exert the necessary moral force on a reluctant Orestes. Not everyone will agree that Orestes is reluctant, or that Electra is determined, but these are two aspects of the same problem that is the focus of this study. Electra is not the boring girl next door, but a Greek heroine seeking revenge and justice, and this should be seen as a more reasonable hypothesis from which to under- stand this tragic character. She, after all, functions in the same way, bitterly and formidably pushing her brother towards ven- geance. It certainly seems an interpretation worth exploring, 6 H. P. Foley, Female Acts in Greek Tragedy (Princeton 2001) 145–171. For the anthropological background see M. Alexiou, The Ritual Lament in Greek Tradition2 (Lanham 2002); G. Holst-Warhaft, Dangerous Voices: Women’s La- ments and Greek Literature (New York 1992); C. N. Seremetakis, The Last Word: Women, Death and Divination in Inner Mani (Chicago 1991). 7 As expressed by Jones, On Aristotle 40. JANETTE AUER 251 particularly in view of the recent research into the role of mourning women in Greek society. Only the text can provide an answer. The interpretation that views Orestes as decisive axio- matically makes Electra weak and unimportant. So it was understandable that Wilamowitz, following on the ideas of O. Müller, considered Electra an important force in the action of Choephori because he thought Orestes was indecisive.8 Most critical attention to this play revolves around two central points of contention, and both of these involve Orestes and his inten- tions. Orestes does express a desire for revenge, but does that demonstrate that his speech shows that he is in fact totally determined, and that he understands that this also means killing his mother? And related to this, does the kommos simply express the lyric reaffirmation of his resolve, or does it lead Orestes to action instead of the mere expression of wishful thinking? The present critical view generally favours Schade- waldt: that Orestes has early in the play expressed his resolve and determination, and the kommos is a lyric working out of this expression of determination.9 The obvious objection to this, as Schadewaldt noted, is that the kommos does not move the action forward at all, despite the fact that it is the longest and most complex lyric that survives in Greek tragedy, and displays the most intimate fusion of actors and chorus.10 Orestes was 8 U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Aischylos: Interpretationen (Berlin 1914) 205–210; K. O. Müller, Kleine deutsche Schriften (Breslau 1870) 473 ff.; K. Sier, Die lyrischen Partien der Choephoren des Aischylos (Stuttgart 1988) 70 ff. Sier gives the best available history of the interpretations of the opening and kommos of Choephori. It is notable that Sier (71 n.5) confidently accuses Wilamowitz of an anachronistic Hamlet-inspired view of Orestes (“bedarf kaum eines Be- weises”), seemingly unaware that Goethe’s romantic-inspired view of Shake- speare which he quotes as probative is itself anachronistic. Wilamowitz in fact never speaks of Hamlet, and though he was born in a century steeped in romanticism, was able to understand Orestes as something less than a romantic hero. 9 W. Schadewaldt, “Der Kommos in Aischylos’ Choephoren,” Hellas und Hesperien: Gesammelte Schriften I (Zurich 1970) 249–284 (= Hermes 67 [1932] 312–354). 10 A. F. Garvie, Aeschylus: Choephori (Oxford 1986) 124. 252 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA determined at the beginning and determined at the end.11 The critical literature talks about invoking Agamemnon’s aid,12 which is obvious enough, but Agamemnon ultimately plays no part in the revenge. If the murdered father simply contributes to the resolve by virtue of being prayed to, then that resolve needed heightening. To understand the role of Electra, we must understand the lack of resolve of Orestes. For without Orestes, nothing is going to happen, and the revenge will not take place, as Electra knows. Paul Friedländer writes: “Electra comes on insecure [un- sicher)] at the beginning and lets herself be driven by the maidens. Then, it is true, she begs her father for vengeance, helps her brother to his decision, and knows that she has in- herited a wolf-temper [Wolfsinn] from her mother and cannot fawn before the ruler.” But immediately afterwards: “Orestes is from the very beginning determined [entschieden].”13 However, a young woman who is insecure is not likely to enter shouting for vengeance. And if Orestes is determined, why does he need help to make up his mind from someone who is unsure of herself? The section of the play in which we are introduced to Electra as she speaks and interacts with the chorus for the first time is key to an understanding of her character. Professor Conacher’s assessments of Electra are representative of the interpretations of Electra’s words and actions as ignorance, innocence, and tentativeness in the first scene of the play: The ultimate horror of the matricidal intent which underlies this “perversion” of Clytemnestra’s perverse offerings and the steely 11 Schadewaldt justifies his argument by appealing to a general rule he had formulated about lyrical Auswirkung of earlier dramatic action. But Sier, Die lyrischen Partien 73, following Lesky, has cast doubt on this rule, and in- deed it is little more than a petitio principii. Something does happen in the kommos, as Lesky shows in “Der Kommos der Choephoren,” SBWien 221.3 (1942). But the question is: what? 12 For example, Garvie 122: “The present kommÒw, whose ostensible pur- pose is to invoke Agamemnon’s aid against his murderers (456 ff.), forms the culmination of all the earlier prayers to Zeus, the chthonic powers, and Agamemnon.” 13 P. Friedländer, Studien zur antiken Literatur und Kunst (Berlin 1969) 125. JANETTE AUER 253 resolve it will require for execution will, in due course, receive greater emphasis—all the more so for being all but suppressed by the minor key of Electra’s first utterances. For what we notice most about this Electra is the gentle and tentative nature of her approach to the grim situation thrust upon her. Her first speech opens with a series of timid questions to the Chorus, culminating in the question whose fearful irony she hardly dares express … So too, in the dia- logue that follows, it is to the Chorus that Electra turns for the words she hesitates to say herself … The particular form of Electra’s prayers continues the tentative, almost innocent, approach we have already noted.14 In Tarkow’s comments on the early exchange between Electra and the chorus, we see again a naïve, hesitant Electra in this scene: On this particular occasion it is her friends and trusted advisors com- prising the chorus who must solve the problem of the libations by choosing the words and tone for her to adopt as she turns the offerings against Clytemnestra. It is the choral members who must urge her to pray for revenge, and to implore the gods for the arrival of some mortal or immortal to accomplish the deed. Most surprisingly it is the chorus which must exhort Electra to add the name of Orestes to her prayers …15 These quotations could be easily multiplied, and from them the modern reader gains an impression that the ancient audience must have expected heroic tragic princesses to have more emo- tion in their makeup than this. Electra has never been alleged to be a Kontrastfigur like Chrysothemis. Electra does not speak from the moment she arrives on stage near the beginning of the extant lines of the play until line 84. When she does speak, her request to the chorus is in the form of the question “What am I to say?” She understandably does not yet perceive the chorus of slaves as trustworthy allies, and she carefully asks them how she should phrase the prayer that accompanies her libation. The question is several times re- 14 Conacher, Aeschylus’ Oresteia 104–105 (my italics). 15 T. A. Tarkow, “Electra’s Role in the Opening Scene of the Choepho- roi,” Eranos 77 (1979) 11–21, at 12 (my italics). 254 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA peated and reformulated.16 However, in this important passage of character composition, it is not inexperience and innocence that we are meant to see in Electra. The error of the critics is to equate a question with hesitation, and this is an unjustified simplification. If our reaction to her first words is to think of her as a naïve, hesitant princess, our views will soon change. She knows exactly how to formulate a prayer, and she knows exactly what she wants to express in it. Electra’s address to the chorus contains aspects of ritual prayer and rhetorical leading questions. The “What am I to say?” or “What prayer shall I make?” formula in literary prayers (e.g. Pindar Ol. 2 “What god, what hero, what man shall I celebrate?”) often used as a self-addressed question is here used dramatically as a series of questions posed to the chorus rather than to herself, and has its origin in the Greek concern with making the right prayer in the correct language. The scenario is not a prayer, but is leading to a prayer to a powerful and potentially dangerous dead hero, and Electra’s address to the chorus is appropriate to the antiphonal nature of the mourning context. She speaks not only about proper lan- guage, but also about appropriate ritual. The ancient concern for correct language is demonstrated, for example, in Plato’s Laws cautioning that one must be very careful in the for- mulation of prayers, otherwise one may get what one does not want if terms are not carefully defined. In discussions of ÙryÒthw or “correctness” first in a political context, Plato has his Athenian interlocutor say (Laws 688B): “I declare that to make use of prayer without careful thought is a precarious thing, and that the opposite to what is desired will be obtained” (˜ti dÆ fhmi eÈxª xr∞syai sfalerÚn e‰nai noËn mØ kekthm°non, éllå ténant¤a ta›w boulÆses¤n ofl g¤gnesyai). And then, in a discussion of “correctness” in a literary context, the same speaker says (801A–B): “The third law, I believe, must be that the poets, knowing that prayers are [men’s] requests of the gods, should be exceedingly careful lest they ask for a good thing, unaware that it is a bad thing [they are requesting]. For 16 t¤ f« (87, 118); p«w eÎfronÉ e‡pv, p«w kateÊjvmai patr¤ (88); pÒtera l°- gousa (89); oÈdÉ ¶xv t¤ f« (91); µ toËto fãskv toÎpow (93); and µ s›g' (96). JANETTE AUER 255 it would be a laughable mistake, I believe, if such a prayer were made” (tr¤tow dÉ, o‰mai, nÒmow, ˜ti gnÒntaw de› toÁw poihtåw …w eÈxa‹ parå ye«n afitÆseiw efis¤, de› dØ tÚn noËn aÈtoÁw sfÒdra pros°xein mÆ pote lãyvsi kakÚn …w égayÚn afitoÊmenoi: gelo›on går dØ tÚ pãyow, o‰mai, toËtÉ ín g¤gnoito eÈx∞w toiaÊthw geno- m°nhw).17 All bases must be covered when praying to gods or heroes. Clytemnestra’s request has caused an overwhelming response of gloom and terror in the slave women, vividly described by them at 32–41. Electra expresses no fear. For the moment, however, she understandably holds back from a strong expres- sion of her revolt until she can be sure of the collective support of these slave women. The first words of Electra, particularly lines 84–101, have been the subject of much debate:18 dmƒa‹ guna›kew, dvmãtvn eÈyÆmonew, §pe‹ pãreste t∞sde prostrop∞w §mo‹ 85 pompo¤, g°nesye t«nde sÊmbouloi p°ri: t¤ f« x°ousa tãsde khde¤ouw xoãw; p«w eÎfronÉ e‡pv, p«w kateÊjvmai patr¤; pÒtera l°gousa parå f¤lhw f¤lƒ f°rein gunaikÚw éndr¤, t∞w §m∞w mhtrÚw pãra; 90 t«ndÉ oÈ pãresti yãrsow, oÈdÉ ¶xv t¤ f« x°ousa tÒnde p°lanon §n tÊmbƒ patrÒw. µ toËto fãskv toÎpow, …w nÒmow broto›w, ‡sÉ éntidoËnai to›si p°mpousin tãde st°fh, dÒsin ge t«n kak«n §paj¤an, 95 µ s›gÉ ét¤mvw, Àsper oÔn ép≈leto patÆr, tãdÉ §kx°asa, gãpoton xÊsin, ste¤xv, kayãrmayÉ Àw tiw §kp°mcaw, pãlin dikoËsa teËxow éstrÒfoisin ˆmmasin, t∞sdÉ ¶ste boul∞w, Œ f¤lai, meta¤tiai. 100 koinÚn går ¶xyow §n dÒmoiw nom¤zomen. 17 S. Pulleyn, “The Power of Names in Classical Greek Religion,” CQ 44 (1994) 17–25, discusses the Greek concern “Do I have the right name for the power I want to address?” Eduard Norden, Agnostos Theos4 (Stuttgart 1956) 143 ff., has demonstrated the prevalence of the e‡te … e‡te feature of Greek prayer language, which is paralleled here by Electra’s repetition of p«w and pÒtera … µ … µ. 18 The text is as in Murray’s OCT, which follows the manuscript M. 256 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA Servant women, who order the house’s cares, since you are present here to attend me in this rite of supplication, give me your advice touching this. What should I say while I pour these offerings of sorrow? How shall I find gracious words, how pray to my father? Shall I say that these are from a beloved to a beloved, from a wife to her husband, from my own mother? I haven’t the boldness19 for this, and I don’t know what to say as I pour this offering on the tomb of my father. Or should I say these words, as is normal for mortals, that to those who send these funeral honours, may he send in return with good—a gift to match their evil? Or, in silence and dishonour, just as my father died, should I pour them out for the earth to drink, and then retrace my steps as one carrying away refuse from a rite, hurling the vessel from me with averted eyes? Friends, join with me in making the plan. For we practice a common hatred in the house. Electra’s speech is manipulative, and the precise rhetoric does not allow us to feel it as tentative. In this passage, Electra proposes three alternative actions that she might adopt: the first, that she carry out the ritual while speaking the words her mother wishes; the second, that she carry out the ritual while speaking words that suggest a different meaning, that the offerings be repaid with evil to those sending it; and third, that she carry out the ritual in silence. The passage has been called inelegant, illogical, and inept, and there have been attempts to “repair” it. Garvie (67–68) summarizes some of the debate, as does Diggle who argues for a transposition of lines 91–92 to follow line 99.20 The debate has focussed on the placement of the “What shall I say?” formula throughout the passage. The repetition at 91–92, oÈdÉ ¶xv t¤ f« x°ousa tÒnde p°lanon §n tÊm- bƒ patrÒw, has troubled many commentators, including Diggle, who argues for the transposition not only because of the flatness of the repetition, but on the grounds of the logic of Electra’s argument as well. Garvie (68–69) agrees with Diggle’s 19 yãrsow has the sense of “impudence” or “insolence.” 20 J. Diggle, “A Transposition in the Choephori,” CR 20 (1970) 267–269. His suggestion is followed by Page in the 1972 OCT. JANETTE AUER 257 assessment that the formula’s repetition at 91 is inelegant and on this basis should be moved elsewhere. Garvie however does not agree with the second half of Diggle’s argument, which is based on the supposedly problematic yãrsow of line 91, that when Electra says that she “does not have the courage for this” she must be referring to her final alternative rather than her first one, since the only course of action she need fear is the dishonour accorded to Agamemnon in performing the ritual in silence. The lines, as Garvie asserts, should remain where tra- dition has placed them, but this is because he interprets differ- ently the logic of Electra’s argument, because of her expression of yãrsow. He interprets the first proposal as the most fear- producing option for her. But the ritual will not be carried out as Clytemnestra has commanded because Electra knows that the intent is wrong. Her first proposal tells us this immediately, in strong language, with yãrsow indicating her hostility to this option. She would not dare to do this. She is suggesting to the chorus that to carry out Clytemnestra’s command is not an op- tion at all. The second proposal is very suggestive and indicates to the chorus that she might be willing (because this is …w nÒmow broto›w) to pray for repayment for the funeral honours, but to change the words to bring harm to “those who are sending” these honours. The final option indicates, by the negative terms in which it is framed (ét¤mvw, Àsper oÔn ép≈leto patÆr) and its reference to the ritual disposal of polluted house sweepings (kayãrmayÉ Àw tiw §kp°mcaw), that this is hardly an action that she would choose to carry out. Proposals A and C are formulated as outrageous by Electra. Proposal B contains the suggestion (that she pray for harm repaid to the murderers) that will eventually lead to a fourth option, left unspoken here by Electra: a prayer for an avenger. Her speech is not to be seen as logical argumentation, but rather as an attempt to establish a collectivity that, once brought together (the stasis pankoinos of line 458), will do what she wants it to do. Electra is attempting in a way that is both diplomatic and manipulative to bring the chorus on board, rather than asking for advice in her ignorance; but she does not manipulate in a manner that would be too obvious if her speech were straightforwardly rhetorical. She gains the con- fidence of the chorus as she establishes a collectivity of effort. 258 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA She asks them at the beginning and the end of her speech to be her allies and fellow counsellors, to join with her in making the plan (g°nesye t«nde sÊmbouloi p°ri, 86; t∞sdÉ ¶ste boul∞w, Œ f¤lai, meta¤tiai, 100). At line 101 she stresses their common suffering and senti- ment, that they have a shared hatred in the house (koinÚn går ¶xyow §n dÒmoiw nom¤zomen). This statement is an implied ex- pression of her hatred for her mother. At 105 she attempts to get the chorus to suggest a better way of conducting the offer- ing at the grave: l°goiw ên, e‡ ti t«ndÉ ¶xeiw Íp°rteron.21 She asks whether she should include them along with herself in the prayer (§mo¤ te ka‹ so¤ têrÉ §peÊjomai tãde, 112). She is work- ing on their emotions: “We all hate the same people in this house; now let us do something about them. Are you with me?” Her control of the direction of the exchange is masterly as she turns to these older women (palaiã, 171; they frequently ad- dress Electra and Orestes as “child” and “children”) and invites them, and repeats her invitation, to speak: l°goiw ên, a polite optative, appears at the beginning of both lines 105 and 108. By her use of the technical term §jhgoum°nh (118), she refers to the chorus as exegetes, her advisers in ritual. In answer, they con- sent to speak from the heart (tÚn §k frenÚw lÒgon, 107) and to become her advisers—in other words, to join with her as she has asked them to do. Electra’s method is similar to a standard technique employed in epic, which is to ask several, sometimes ironic, questions that are false, and to end with a question that leads to what the speaker knows is the correct answer. Janko illustrates this in Achilles’ offensively ironic speech to Patroclus at Iliad 16.7–19, where Achilles poses the double question, affecting not to know why his friend is upset: “Have you or I had bad news con- cerning our fathers from home?,” answering himself in the neg- 21 Garvie 71, on Íp°rteron, translates “Please tell me, if you have any- thing better than this to say.” He explains that this line restates the positive idea expressed at 100, after having expressed her understanding that the chorus may be fearful of someone (102). Line 105 may be seen as an in- vitation to the chorus to make a proposal hostile to Clytemnestra, one that matches Electra’s statement of implied hatred of her mother at 101. JANETTE AUER 259 ative, and ending with the question that leads to the truth: “Do you grieve for the Greeks?” Janko calls this a “focussing de- vice,” and Electra is doing something similar here.22 In the ensuing stichomythia, it is the chorus that are most hesitant, not always given a chance to complete their thoughts (117, 119), before Electra, ever pressing, poses another ques- tion. She first draws out of the chorus those names for whom she should ask a blessing, continuing to press them until she has heard from them a recommendation that she include herself and all who hate Aegisthus, as well as Orestes. Lines 119–120 are most revealing. The chorus suggest that she pray for a god or a mortal, and Electra interrupts them with “Which do you mean—a judge or an avenger?” She wants the recommenda- tion closely defined, and points to the obvious answer, the only one possible. The chorus’ answer makes it clear that her allies recommend vengeance: an avenger of her father who will kill in return (éntapoktene›, 121; tÚn §xyrÚn éntame¤besyai ka- ko›w, 123). There are alternative ways of performing lines in a play, placing stress on certain words more than on others, playing with timing of the delivery of words and phrases, but stichomythia generally involves rapid exchange that would be an unproductive way to portray hesitation and unsureness in Electra as interlocutor. This is rapid-fire speech in a play that tends throughout to be quick-moving, with short, fast-paced scenes (with the exception of the kommos) succeeding one upon the other. Electra quickly asks a series of short, leading ques- tions that pilot the more hesitant chorus directly to the answers she wishes to hear spoken aloud. Thus it is difficult to agree with Lloyd-Jones when he says of the stichomythic lines that “here the Coryphaeus gradually convinces Electra to accom- pany the libation with a prayer very different from that which Clytemnestra would have wished.”23 By the end of the sticho- mythic exchange, she is assured that the chorus sympathizes with her and that she has established a reliable collective sup- port in them. It is through this drawing out of the “what shall I say? what 22 R. Janko, The Iliad: A Commentary IV (Cambridge 1992) 316. 23 Lloyd-Jones, Aeschylus: Oresteia ad 108. 260 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA prayer shall I make?” formula with its affinities to the concern for proper language and procedure in Greek prayers, and her rapid, leading interrogation of the chorus, that Aeschylus establishes the basic traits of Electra’s character in her intro- ductory scene. Electra’s purpose in the libation ritual is to alter its intention. She is the one who is to perform the prayer and pour the libation, and thus she is the central figure in or- ganizing it. She as a character acts out of her own will, having far more personal motivation than the chorus of slaves have to carry out the change to Clytemnestra’s instructions.24 And it is a strong character with strong personal motivation that Aes- chylus carefully lays out for us. It will be about 250 lines after the libation ceremony, in the course of the kommos, that Electra will proclaim that she has a wolf-like thumos inherited from her mother, on which Wilamowitz comments that the Aeschylean Electra is just like the Sophoclean.25 Wilamowitz maintained that Orestes was not determined from the beginning and that the function of the kommos was to lead him to the decision of matricide (see n.8). This is criticized by Schadewaldt, who recognizes that Orestes becomes more emotional and “breaks out” in 434 ff. as a result of the de- scription of the maschalismos, but he thinks that Orestes was determined (entschlossen) in 297 ff. He admits the helplessness (Hilflosigkeit) of the children at the beginning.26 He also admits throughout that the kommos is supposed to whip the participants up emotionally into achieving the murder. He maintains against Wilamowitz the determinedness of Orestes from the beginning, and stresses the importance of the climax of the kommos, the evocation of the nether powers to help Orestes in 24 E. T. Owen, The Harmony of Aeschylus (Toronto 1952) 89 asserts: “Both the chorus and Electra are of the same mind, but are feeling their way, being cautious not to commit themselves too soon. Certainly, it is clear that the chorus would not have taken the step of themselves. They need the incentive of Electra’s misgivings, but once she has expressed them they encourage her to carry out what is plainly her own aim.” 25 U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, Aischylos Orestie II Das Opfer am Grabe (Berlin 1896) 200. 26 Schadewaldt, Hellas 276–277. JANETTE AUER 261 the act of vengeance.27 However, lines 297 ff. can only with great difficulty be seen as a sign of his Entschlossenheit: toio›sde xrhsmo›w îra xrØ pepoiy°nai; kefi mØ p°poiya, toÎrgon ¶stÉ §rgast°on. pollo‹ går efiw ©n sump¤tnousin ·meroi, yeoË tÉ §fetma‹ ka‹ patrÚw p°nyow m°ga, 300 ka‹ prÚw pi°zei xrhmãtvn éxhn¤a, tÚ mØ pol¤taw eÈkleestãtouw brot«n, Tro¤aw énastat∞raw eÈdÒjƒ fren¤, duo›n gunaiko›n œdÉ ÍphkÒouw p°lein. yÆleia går frÆn: efi d¢ mÆ, tãxÉ e‡setai. 305 Are such oracles not to be trusted? Even if I do not trust them, the deed must be done. For many desires fall toward a single goal: The god’s demands and my deep grief for my father, My lack of money oppresses me, And my desire that the citizens, most glorious of men, Of courageous heart as destroyers of Troy, Might not be subjects like this to two women. For he is womanish; and if not, he will soon know. Schadewaldt claims that ·meroi at 299 indicates Orestes’ ex- pressed determination.28 ·merow, however, does not indicate determination, but a longing, or wanting something that is not present. Himeros is the personification of erotic desire and an attendant of Aphrodite,29 often portrayed in art along with Eros and Pothos,30 and what we see in this passage is the kind of generalization by which Orestes throughout the play demon- strates his unwillingness to face the reality that the revenge will mean the murder of his mother. To “want” or “long for” something does not denote resolution. Many commentators have been of the view that before re- 27 Schadewaldt, Hellas 249 n.2. 28 He offers parallels from Prometheus 649 and 865, Agamemnon 1204, and Supplices 87 (in the latter, indicating the “will of Zeus,” according to Schade- waldt, though Zeus’ “wanting” something as king of gods might well be called his “will”). 29 Hesiod makes Himeros present, along with Eros, at the birth of Aphro- dite, and afterwards a member of her train (Theog. 201–202). 30 LIMC V.1 425–426, V.2 299–300. 262 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA turning to Argos, Orestes had already made his decision to kill the murderers of his father, and that he had in mind spe- cifically the deaths of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra.31 This strongly held interpretation has led to opposition by those who argued, on the one hand, that the purpose of the kommos is to have Orestes overcome his revulsion at the notion of matricide, and those who, on the other hand, argue that the kommos is designed to bring the spirit of Agamemnon and the powers of the underworld to their aid. Both views lead to the conclusion that there is no real change in Orestes either in the kommos or indeed throughout the whole play.32 Most recent commenta- tors (Garvie, Käppel, Sier, Lloyd-Jones) continue to choose one of the opposing sides as the better interpretation.33 As an example, Käppel remarks that Lloyd-Jones was the first to see that the importance of the kommos is to invoke the aid of the dead Agamemnon.34 Lloyd-Jones says: Modern critics whose minds have been dominated by the un- conscious presuppositions dictated by modern drama have tried hard to show that Orestes can kill his mother only if he is spurred by the stimulus afforded by the conjuration scene. Their attempt is not successful. The poet’s words make it unambig- uously clear that the purpose of the conjuration is to secure the all-important assistance of Agamemnon’s ghost … To grasp its import it is necessary to remember that the poet assumes belief in the power of the dead to influence events on earth. It is all- important for Orestes and Electra to establish contact with the 31 K. Reinhardt, Aischylos als Regisseur und Theologe (Bern 1949); Lesky, SBWien 221.3 (1942); Schadewaldt, Hellas; H. W. Smyth, Aeschylean Tragedy (New York 1969). As one example, Smyth says: “Orestes’ intention to kill his mother and her lover was not formed in the course of the dramatic action; it was fixed at the very beginning of the play … The tenacity of Orestes’ purpose was not relaxed when he stands nearer to its accomp- lishment” (200). These scholars generally reject Wilamowitz’s view that Orestes comes to a decision under the influence of Electra and the chorus. 32 Conacher, Aeschylus’ Oresteia 108–110, provides a survey of the con- flicting interpretations and arguments. He aligns himself more closely with the “getting Agamemnon on board” view (113). 33 Garvie; Sier, Die lyrischen Partien; L. Käppel, Die Konstruktion der Handlung der Orestie des Aischylos (Munich 1998); Lloyd-Jones, Aeschylus: Oresteia. 34 Käppel, Die Konstruktion 208. JANETTE AUER 263 departed spirit of Agamemnon and to secure its aid in taking revenge upon the murderers.35 Lloyd-Jones was of course not the first to see this. The gÒow ¶ndikow has always been seen to include both of these functions. The kommos is a lyrical working-out of the appeal to Agamem- non, but it must be understood that without the cooperation of Orestes nothing is going to work.36 However, debating the notion of the “decision” of Orestes, and when it occurs, is per- haps unhelpful. To solve this problem, the most important question to ask is: When is it made clear to the audience that Orestes realizes that killing the murderers means killing his mother? The text up to the beginning of the kommos does not show Orestes with any clear awareness that he will be commit- ting matricide. His youth and inexperience and his consequent inability to understand the task that lies ahead of him are im- plicit in a text that never shows him articulating exactly what the vengeance entails. He is nowhere shown to be aware of the full implications of the Delphic command, but only of the consequences of disobeying it (ironic since we know what the consequences of obeying it will be), and the playwright’s delay in making specific reference to Clytemnestra as his victim is not only a very effective tension builder, but a key to our under- standing of the characterization of Electra and Orestes. Anne Burnett says of Orestes, rightly, that he “enters as a youth called to play a part for which he is not prepared, but he walks directly into a complex ritual that both empowers and instructs” (my italics). Nonetheless, Burnett does not believe that the kom- mos is directed at him.37 Schadewaldt claims that as the kommos begins, Orestes’ be- haviour is not at all desperate (“Orests Haltung ist durchaus nicht verzweifelnd”).38 But Orestes’ words are a string of ques- tions about what he should do, and indeed sound very despair- 35 Lloyd-Jones, Aeschylus: Oresteia 6, 26. 36 In Aeschylus, at least. Sophocles (El. 947 ff.) toys with the idea that Electra might carry out the revenge herself, and Euripides (El. 1225) places Electra’s hand on the sword as Orestes kills their mother. 37 A. P. Burnett, Revenge in Attic and Later Tragedy (Berkeley 1997) 106–107. 38 Schadewaldt, Hellas 254. 264 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA ing; these are questions very unlike those of Electra earlier when she was attempting to manipulate the chorus. They are not leading questions and not manipulative. Schadewaldt then contradicts himself when he says that there is no word of Orestes’ “innere Entwicklung” or “psychologische Vertiefung” envisioned by Wilamowitz;39 though he himself has made clear that Orestes was hilflos (see n.26) and is then in the corrupt lines 435–438 “determined” (followed by Garvie 162). Wilamowitz, on the other hand, says of the intentions of Electra and the chorus in the kommos: “What they wanted [in the kommos], and the only thing they could do, was to bring the boy to make up his mind.”40 It is in the kommos that the decisiveness of the chorus rises to meet the decisiveness of Electra, and we shall see how closely focussed on Orestes they and Electra are, and remain throughout. There is ultimately a change in Orestes as the play progresses, though Wilamowitz’ “psychologische Ver- tiefung” is too strong a description for what happens to him. The young man learns things from Electra and the chorus dur- ing the kommos that push him towards action, though this does not constitute a psychological development or “deepening.” Orestes has returned to Argos for something. He has said that he wants his house and property returned to him, but lying between regaining his property and killing his mother is the need to bring him to the point of both full knowledge and com- plete commitment that he does not express before the kommos. Orestes’ “decision” is limited neither to his declaration at 18– 19 and his statement of motives at 297–305, nor even to the kommos, but is continued and elaborated throughout the play up to the very moment of the murder of his mother. And we shall see that Electra’s behaviour in the kommos is entirely consistent with what we have seen in her earlier interaction with the chorus. The four opening triads of the kommos are compositionally regular, each beginning with a strophe sung by Orestes, fol- lowed by the chorus and then Electra. To separate the triads, 39 Schadewaldt, Hellas 270. 40 Wilamowitz, Aischylos Interpretationen 208 (“Was sie wollten, allein wollen konnten, war den Knaben zum Entschlusse bringen”). JANETTE AUER 265 the chorus sing anapaests. In their introductory anapaests be- fore the first triad, the chorus introduce the gnomic statement that will be their thrust throughout the kommos, that the “doer will suffer” (drãsanti paye›n, 313), and they then define the purpose of the lament in this speech, particularly at 327–331: ÙtotÊzetai dÉ ı ynπskvn, énafa¤netai dÉ ı blãptvn. pat°rvn te ka‹ tekÒntvn gÒow ¶ndikow mateÊei tÚ pçn émfilafØw taraxye¤w. The dead man is lamented, The criminal is produced. For fathers and parents A lament with justice hunts down On every side, once stirred up. The present lament, with justice on its side, will hunt down the guilty (gÒow ¶ndikow mateÊei, 330). The second triad ushers in a new tone to the lament. Orestes and then Electra in turn utter the unrealistic wishes typical of lament expression. The nature of the wishes made by each is indicative of character. Orestes wishes, with epic reminiscences noted by commentators, that Agamemnon had perished at Troy, achieving glorious renown for himself and his children.41 Electra, on the other hand, would not have wanted Agamem- non’s death at all, and she expresses the bitter wish that his murderers had themselves been murdered earlier. She is closely in tune with the chorus, who have introduced the notion of the justice of seeking out the murderers who must suffer in their turn, as well as the notion of victory. The chorus respond to Electra’s wish by saying that it is better than gold (372). Garvie (142) believes, along with the scholiast, that the chorus’ re- sponse, dÊnasai gãr (374), is sarcastic, expressing the idea that Electra cannot seem to do anything other than make wishes. The chorus, however, do not say that all Electra can do is wish. Her wish is better than gold because it focusses on the deaths of the murderers, so that in her wish she is thinking along the 41 Similar to Achilles’ unrealistic wish for Agamemnon (Od. 24.30–33) and Telemachus’ for Odysseus (Od. 1.236–240). 266 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA right lines. The chorus prefer her wish to Orestes’, and they tell her so. The corruption of the text at the end of the chorus’ statement (378–379) renders it impossible to know with any level of certainty with what words they end. Garvie (143) re- views the various conjectures of commentators, and West offers further speculation in justification of his Teubner text (1991).42 The important thing for us in an exploration of character is Orestes’ reaction to the chorus’ words. They have goaded him deeply, since he says in emotional reaction: “This has pierced through my ear like an arrow” (380–381). He exhorts Zeus to send up retribution from the underworld, and although it is late-avenging (ÍsterÒpoinon, 383), nevertheless it will be ac- complished. The generalizing plural of tokeËsi (385) has gen- erated debate over whether it is Agamemnon (“for my father”) or Clytemnestra (“against my mother”) to whom the text refers. The original audience might have understood either one. Ores- tes is not specific; to read the father or the mother specifically here is not to follow the text. He is full of emotion, but he does not actually proclaim his own role, nor does he name his mother, and this continues to be very important. The chorus then build on Orestes’ emotion with a wish that it might raise the female cry of victory over “the man who is struck” (éndrÚw yeinom°nou) and “the woman who is being un- done” (gunaikÚw Ùllum°naw), the two participles appearing with emphasis at the beginnings of lines 388 and 389. Electra elab- orates the sentiments of the chorus, that mighty Zeus might perform some head-splitting by bringing his hand down upon someone who continues to be unnamed. The theme of the gÒow as justice tracking down the guilty is repeated by Electra as she follows the request for the splitting of heads with a demand for justice out of unjust things (d¤kan dÉ §j éd¤kvn épait«, 398). The chorus’ anapaests take up Electra’s train of thought with a repetition of the theme of the natural law of vengeance, that drops of blood spilled on the ground demand other blood (400–402). By the beginning of the fourth triad (405 ff.), Orestes is in 42 M. L. West, Studies in Aeschylus (Stuttgart 1990) 243–244. JANETTE AUER 267 despair. Wilamowitz describes him as “ratlos.”43 Schadewaldt criticizes this interpretation, saying that since Orestes has already made up his mind to do the deed, he cannot be ex- periencing despair, and his expression of émhxan¤a (407) simply refers to the desperate situation in which he and Electra find themselves.44 However, as Garvie notes (151), his cry of pò tiw trãpoitÉ ên, Œ ZeË; (“Where can I turn?,” 409) cannot be simply a call to Zeus to help. The cry comes from a very young man who is confused and terrified at the situation in which he finds himself. We know this because his expression of émhxan¤a is an exasperation to the chorus, who, not in despair (Garvie and others) but in a take-charge attitude, tell Orestes that when he talks like this they lose hope and become anxious (ka‹ tÒte m¢n dÊselpiw, splãgxna d° moi kelainoËtai prÚw ¶pow kluoÊs&, “then I am without hope, and my feelings darken over at your words as I hear them,” 413–414). However, on the contrary (aÔtÉ, 415), with a different attitude on his part, their distress is put away. The fourth triad ends with Electra’s words which also end the first section of the kommos, important in that here she speaks of her own character. Her speech is important as a conclusion to this section, and also for a correct understanding of her char- acter (418–422): t¤ dÉ ín fãntew tÊxoimen; ∑ tãper pãyomen êxea prÒw ge t«n tekom°nvn; pãresti sa¤nein, tå dÉ oÎti y°lgetai: lÊkow går ÀstÉ »mÒfrvn êsantow §k matrÒw §sti yumÒw. Garvie translates (156): “She may fawn, but they (the êxea) are in no way soothed; for like a savage-minded wolf my angry heart is implacable because of (as a result of) my mother.” He comments that “it would be wrong to exclude entirely the idea that Electra has inherited [his italics] her savage yumÒw from her mother and the idea that crime is the parent of still further crime.” Wrong it would be indeed, and in fact this is precisely 43 Wilamowitz, Aischylos Interpretationen 205. 44 Schadewaldt, Hellas 268 n.70. 268 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA the idea. Most translators correctly understand that Electra is saying here that her own fierce nature comes from her moth- er.45 The literal translation of pãresti sa¤nein is “it is possible to fawn.” The verb suggests dog-like behaviour, with an under- lying moral condemnation. At the same time, the word denotes flattering behaviour with a purpose to coexist comfortably. Electra suggests that in this context she could just go along, as Chrysothemis recommends as a sensible alternative to what the Sophoclean Electra does. She is saying that it is possible, i.e. it is within her power, to go along with either her mother, or with “them,” since the words are left unspecific. But she will not do this, for these things are not to be dealt with by “going along” on Electra’s part, since she has a vicious nature §k matrÒw. She will claim that she “lives a dog’s life” (445–447), though she is no lap dog, and the wolf image better suits her temperament. y°lgetai is equivalent to the preceding verb sa¤nein, as is shown by Electra’s use of both in 420. Hence “it is possible to go along,” but the idea is quickly dispatched by oÎti y°lgetai. That is, “these things are not to be appeased by nice words.” Schadewaldt (see n.44) translates oÎti y°lgetai as “laesst nicht beschmeicheln,” but y°lgv is more precise. Pindar at Nem. 4.2– 5 uses it of the effect of the song of the Muses and of hot water on weary limbs, “soften, mollify,” and at Aesch. PV 865: ·merow y°ljei tÚ mØ kte›nai, “desire will persuade her not to kill.” These things will not be appeased by fawning or going along because her spirit is like a wolf’s (inherited) from her mother, unappeasable (oÈ y°lgetai) and unappeasing (êsantow). In this string of assertions, sa¤nein and êsantow belong to- gether. sa¤nein is generalized and êsantow, as Wilamowitz saw, is active rather than passive, though this is denied by many (e.g. Garvie 156). Electra, according to her words, has been ken- 45 Burnett, however (Revenge 108), deviates from the usual interpretation: “What Electra says, however, is that the aggressive spirit of their mother is implacable and savage and that she suffers from it.” A. Lebeck, The Oresteia: A Study in Language and Structure (Washington 1971) 122, does not take a stand, preferring to understand from the “confusion” that “they may fawn, she may fawn; theirs is her nature which will not fawn, cannot be fawned upon.” Sier, Die lyrischen Partien 60, loses an important key to Electra’s char- acter in assigning these lines to Orestes. JANETTE AUER 269 neled away like a dog, so she is not referring to herself as unappeasable, but rather as unappeasing. Garvie asserts that Electra “could never, even for a moment, imagine that her troubles would abate if she were to flatter her mother, and it is pointless to suggest the possibility.” But a character may well, and very plausibly, raise a possibility in order to deny it. It is a technique similar to what she did in her first speech, in which she raised three possible modes of action, and through her manner of speech guided the chorus to the response she wanted. Wilamowitz translates pãresti sa¤nein as “dulden und ducken?,” “to suffer and submit?” êsantow understood as ac- tive indicates that Electra rejects this possibility, and he says of Electra here: “Das ist die sophocleische Elektra.”46 Garvie (157) interprets Electra’s statement as “a significant hardening of Electra’s character since 140 f.,” though we have seen that this is not the case. Electra is a hard character from the outset, a reflection of the mother who, once wounded by an outrage against a family member, nurses a grudge that festers for years as she plots destruction for the family member who inflicted the wound. Those commentators who see an innocent, hesitant Electra tend to misinterpret this passage, and to be puzzled about her role in the revenge and therefore in the play.47 The structure suddenly changes at the beginning of the next section (423), when the chorus now sing the first strophe of the triad, followed by Electra and then Orestes, the chorus re- placing Orestes’ earlier role. The altered structure tells us that something has happened. The roles of Electra and Orestes, parallel in the first section, now become disorderly. The 46 Wilamowitz, Aischylos Orestie 200. 47 For example, T. G. Rosenmeyer, The Art of Aeschylus (Berkeley 1982) 243–244: “Aeschylus starts her out on a note of uncertainty … she wonders how to approach the gods and how to do the sacrificing Clytemnestra has asked her to undertake. She even wonders whether it is right to ask the gods to punish the villains. Altogether there is something peculiar about Electra’s approaches … Why the introductory series of addressees? Safety in num- bers? Uncertainty to whom to appeal …? Under the impact of memories, she turns into a promoter of vengeance. Finally her new confidence occa- sions thoughts of marriage: a far cry from the hesitations and humilities of the initial scene.” 270 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA females take over in this narrative section of the kommos, where the function of witnessing and recounting the family mythos by Electra and the chorus is directed at Orestes. It is particularly here that we see the impressive power and decisiveness of the chorus. They, wailing their Cissian grief, describe their actions as they beat their breasts and heads. Electra follows, apostro- phizing Clytemnestra, and beginning the narration of her mother’s indignities against Agamemnon after his death, that he had not been properly buried and lamented (429–433). Orestes’ response to Electra’s apostrophizing Clytemnestra is generally interpreted (e.g. Garvie 161) as an acceptance of the act of matricide (434–438): tÚ pçn ét¤mvw ¶lejaw, o‡moi. patrÚw dÉ ét¤mvsin îra te¤seiw ßkati m¢n daimÒnvn, ßkati dÉ émçn xer«n: ¶peitÉ §g∆ nosf¤saw Ùlo¤man. You’ve told me of something completely shameful, alas. You will pay for the dishonour of our father Through the gods And through my own hands; When I destroy [her/you], may I die. Wilamowitz, who, we have seen, saw the purpose of the kommos as entirely directed at Orestes’ decision, wished to rearrange the text, placing lines 434–438 after 455, in the hope of making the decision arise later, as Orestes became more decided. Op- posing this, Schadewaldt, who held that Orestes had always been decided upon his course of action, suggests that here Orestes does not make a decision (Entschluss) but rather he shows openly the decisiveness (Entschlossenheit) that was present, unexpressed, all along.48 The decision “breaks forth” (“bricht sie hervor”) here. He does recognize that Orestes does not display the decisiveness that should be there, just as he never openly says that he will murder his mother. This passage be- trays the hesitation and reluctance of the young man, and not a decision taken or a decisive stance, though he has said some- thing that he has been unwilling to say up to this point. 48 Schadewaldt, Hellas 276. JANETTE AUER 271 In the following set of antistrophic responses, Orestes falls silent as first the chorus and then Electra produce a narrative of the murder. They recount the shame of the killing of Aga- memnon and the disgraceful mutilation of his body, in an effort to move Orestes to action. They pound their message home with commands to Orestes to listen and to hear: klÊeiw patr–- ouw dÊaw ét¤mouw (chorus at 443), toiaËtÉ ékoÊvn §n fres‹n grãfou (Electra at 450), diÉ »Ätvn d¢ sunt°traine mËyon ≤sÊxƒ fren«n bãsei (chorus at 451–452). The chorus sum up by telling Orestes that he now knows the situation, and that “the future is in his own hands” (454–455; Garvie 167). The appeal to Agamemnon (456–509) is the last section of the kommos, and the focus shifts from Orestes to the tomb of Agamemnon. Orestes begins with a direct appeal to his dead father, and Electra follows in support, “bathed in tears.” We have now indisputable evidence that the collectivity that Elec- tra worked earlier to achieve has indeed been established, and in the last part of the kommos the chorus describe the group which includes Electra, Orestes, and themselves as a stãsiw pãgkoinow (“a collective in revolt,” 458).49 The chorus express agitation at what the words of lament and prayer are about to unleash. They do not, however, express any doubt, and their words are positive encouragement for Orestes—that it is up to the house of Atreus to cure itself, and to do so with violence (471–474): d≈masin ¶mmoton t«ndÉ êkow, oÈdÉ épÉ êllvn ¶ktoyen, éllÉ épÉ aÈt«n, diÉ »mån ¶rin aflmathrãn. It is for the house to apply the dressing as a cure for these troubles; it cannot come from others outside, but only from itself, through savage and bloody strife. They stress the self-help doctrine that they have propounded 49 Garvie (168) translates as “our company all together.” Stasis can mean simply “company” or “band” but very often denotes sedition, rebellion, dissent. Pankoinos implies a collective as well: “all together/all in common/ united.” The phrase implies a group that has come together in rebellion. 272 THE AESCHYLEAN ELECTRA throughout the play, that it is up to Orestes to take action, and that he can count on help from the gods. The plea of Electra and Orestes quickly becomes rapidly paced in stichomythic exchange. That Agamemnon’s help is needed is the focus of this section and all efforts are now aimed at bringing him on board, by appealing to his self-interest with promises of future sacrificial offerings by Orestes (483–485), and offerings from her inheritance by Electra at her marriage (486–488). They remind him of the ignominious death he en- countered (491–492) and Electra ends by offering Agamemnon salvation through his own children if he will hear their prayer and honour their plea. Her most important job, getting Orestes to act, and, secondly, appealing to Agamemnon to act, is done, and she does not speak again in the play. Orestes and the chorus now enter into an exchange (514– 550). He asks why Clytemnestra had sent a libation to atone for her deed, since “as the saying goes,” it is a useless act to pour out everything one has in an attempt to atone for an act of bloodshed (520–521). The chorus, as reliable narrators (they “were there,” they say, 523, and they knew about it at the be- ginning of the play), recount the content of her dream. Orestes interprets the snake of the dream as an omen that points to himself as killer of his mother: In the dream “she dies by violence. I, as a snake, kill her” (§kdrakontvye‹w dÉ §g∆ kte¤nv nin, 549–550). Once again, as exegetes, the chorus approve his words, this time his reading of the omen (teraskÒpon dØ t«nd° sÉ aflroËmai p°ri, 551). According to them, Orestes must now take over and give orders (552–553). Apparently the kommos has been a success and Orestes understands what he is to do. Or does he, in fact? Orestes has a plan, but in it there is not a word about Cly- temnestra. After the emotionalism of the kommos, the appeal to Agamemnon, and the encouragement of Electra and the chorus, Orestes is still only able to articulate the deed as the murder of Aegisthus, a deed which he quickly concludes. The crisis arrives when Orestes fully realizes that he is to kill his mother. This is the moment when he turns to the otherwise silent Pylades to pose the question that constitutes the climax of JANETTE AUER 273 the play (899). This moment is not a “decision,” but a realiza- tion of what the oracle of Apollo has really involved him in.50 Electra and the chorus in the kommos revealed what was necessary to propel him onward, and at this moment, he un- derstands that he stands on the edge of a precipice. The only words spoken by Pylades in the play remind him of the divine command and his duty to obey the god. But it is Electra, organizing a solidarity of commitment first with the chorus and then with her brother, who pushes him to the precipice.51 June, 2006 Classics Department Brock University St. Catharines, Ontario L2S 3A1 Canada janette.auer@brocku.ca 50 Garvie’s comment (293): “The decision that he ‘must’ kill his mother was taken before the play began, but now it has to be taken again, and it remains his own.” We have seen that this claim cannot be substantiated anywhere in the text of Choephori. 51 So that it is difficult to agree with A. Podlecki’s assessment that “In Aeschylus’ version Electra’s contribution to the decisive action is hardly felt”: “Four Electras,” Florilegium 3 (1981) 21–46, at 25 (his italics); but later (39): “In the first part of the play, it is Electra’s function to provide a link between the dead Agamemnon and the living Orestes, to create the contact and energiz- ing charge which can begin to impel Orestes to take the decisive step.” The author would like to acknowledge the generous advice and ex- traordinary encouragement of Professor William J. Slater (recently retired from McMaster University) during the preparation of this article. The author also thanks Noel Robertson, the editorial board of GRBS, and the anonymous reader whose very useful suggestions resulted in important im- provements.