In Aeschylus’ trilogy
The Oresteia, the character Clytaemnestra, the wife of
Agamemnon and mother of Orestes, has been called a strong woman
because she controls her emotions, gives commanding orders, and
“kicks butt.” However, I would argue, after reading several
psychology articles on the subject and reflecting on Scripture, that
Clytaemnestra is not a strong woman at all, but is, in fact, a
psychopath. We can see certain traits that Clytaemnestra has in
common with a psychopath throughout the first two books of Aeschylus’
trilogy, Agamemnon and The Libation Bearers. These
traits include the mastery of small talk, the constant manipulation
of her fellow human beings, and the lack of many genuine
emotions.
Clytaemnestra demonstrates great skill in making
small talk. In the play Agamemnon, she says to a newly arrived
captive from Troy, “Won’t you come inside? I mean you, Cassandra.
/ Zeus in all his mercy wants you to share / some victory libations
with the house” (Ag.,1032-1034). Later, in the play The
Libation Bearers, Clytaemnestra greets her son, whom she had
exiled as a baby, and his friends, saying: “Strangers, please, tell
me what you would like and it is yours … We have warm baths and
beds to charm away your pains / and the eyes of Justice look on all
we do” (Lib.,
650-653). This skill earns her the admiration of her people. They
praise her, saying, “my lady, loyal, full of self-command” (Ag.,
355-336) and “We’ve come, Clytaemnestra. We respect your power”
(Ag., 258-259). The leader of the Chorus says about
Clytaemnestra, “She speaks well, but it takes no seer to know she
only says what’s right” (Ag., 612-613). According to an
article published in Psychology Today by Amy Morin,
“Psychopaths are almost always well-liked. They come across as
delightful people great at making small talk.” As with
most psychopaths, Clytaemnestra’s words are not genuine, but tools
for manipulation.
Clytaemnestra repeatedly uses words in
attempts to persuade, fool, and manipulate other people in order to
achieve her will. “Words, endless words I’ve said to serve the
moment” (Ag., 1391). She cajoles the slave, Cassandra, to
get off the chariot because she wants to kill her inside the palace.
She says, “Down from the chariot, / this is no time for pride”
(Ag., 1038-1041). Clytaemnestra attempts to distract the
Chorus from her murderous intentions by making a show of love for the
husband whom she has been plotting to kill. She states, “I am not
ashamed to tell you / how I love the man…when a woman sits at home,
and the man is gone, / the loneliness is terrible … the rumors [of
Agamemnon’s death] broke like fever… they cut me down” (Ag.,
842-864). In an article by Joaquin Hagopian, published by Global
Research in 2014, he writes, “Psychopaths see others in terms
of how they can be conveniently and cunningly used … They have no
trouble putting on the act of emotions when they are determined to
manipulate others, most often into feeling guilty or sympathetic
toward them.” Clytaemnestra uses displays of emotion to
attain her will but does not show any genuine emotion except for
anger.
Clytaemnestra acts calm and even silly in the face
of calamity and only shows anger when circumstances block her
desires. When Clytemnestra’s servant rushes up and down the halls
of her palace shouting a harrowing message that Clytaemnestra can’t
understand, she says, “Ah, a riddle, I do well at riddles” (Lib.,
874). When it is revealed that the servant was screaming about the
death of Aegisthus, Clytaemnestra’s lover, she merely remarks,
“Gone, my violent one—Aegisthus, very dear” (Lib., 880). Even when
her own son is threatening to kill her, she handles this, too, with
irrational calmness, saying to her son, “Watch out—the hounds of
a mother’s curse will hunt you down” (Lib., 911). Her
reactions, lacking the normal emotional responses, do not match up
with these events. Joaquin Hagopian writes, “[Psychopaths] do not
feel fear, sadness, regret or disgust that the rest of us
experience.” According to the article, this lack of
emotion enables these psychopaths to remain calm under what most
would view as extremely stressful situations. However, Clytaemnestra
does display genuine anger when she does not get her way. She invites
Agamemnon to walk on tapestries to make a big show of his triumph
over Troy. Agamemnon disagrees, saying that walking on tapestries is
an honor “only the gods deserve” (Ag., 915), and continues
to argue with her. Finally, she shouts, “Oh give way! … Surrender
/ all of your own free will to me!” (Ag., 938-939) According
to Hagopian’s article, “the only genuine emotion psychopaths
express is anger whenever their manipulations are thwarted or
rebuffed.” So while her anger is genuine, it is not a
righteous anger.
Should being an expert at small talk to
get people to like you, manipulating people to do your will and
becoming angry when people won’t do your will be considered
evidence of strength? While some regard Clytemnestra as a role
model, a strong woman who makes tough decisions, I argue that she is
not. If we look to the one true role model of
strength—Jesus—Clytaemnestra is a sham. Jesus in fact behaved in
ways that are the opposite of Clytaemnestra’s behavior. Rather than
engage in small talk, Jesus emphasized the importance of what he was
saying by using phrases like, “Verily I say unto you,” or “Amen,
I say to you,” and the words he said were not always pleasing to
people. In fact, as Jesus was well aware, this led to many hating
Him. Jesus says in John 15:18, “If the world hates you, keep in
mind that it hated me first.” Jesus also never used his words to
manipulate anyone into obeying His will. In Revelation 3:20 we read,
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice
and opens the door, I will come into him and will dine with him, and
he with Me.” Jesus only offers his Way to us. Could it be that the
world’s conception of strength is askew? Webster’s Dictionary
defines strength as the “capacity for exertion or endurance.”
Isaiah 40:29 says our strength comes from somewhere else—“He
gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.” The Apostle
Paul writes in his second letter to the Corinthians (12:10) that
“when I am weak, then I am strong.” Only when we rely fully on
God can we be truly strong. Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek: for
they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). Perhaps we can find
our role model of a strong woman in the person of Jesus’ mother
Mary, who showed true strength when she surrendered her life to God,
saying in Luke 1:38, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it
be done to me according to your word." What was Mary’s advice
on how to be strong? Mary said, “Do whatever He tells you” (John
2:5).
Saturday, September 29, 2018
Saturday, September 15, 2018
The Aeneid Book Seven: Juno Lets the Cat Out of the Bag
Allecto, one of the three Furies of Roman mythology, is portrayed by Virgil in his epic poem, The Aeneid, as a monster (I envision her as a large cat with tentacles) who does not seem to have the same amount of free will as the other immortals in Virgil’s story. She is a hideous beast said to have been created by chance, who resides in the Underworld where it is her job to punish sinners for their crimes. She is called by circumstance, duty, and instinct to perform this task and she lacks certain traits common to beings who possess free will. She does not need a personal reason to act, she has no concern for the consequences of her actions, and she is unable to stop acting without external direction. Allecto carries out despicable and destructive acts because it is her nature to do so.
Allecto does not need a personal reason to unleash her terror. In Book Seven, Allecto is called out of the Underworld by Juno, the queen of the gods, to start a war. Juno is angry and frustrated because she wants to prevent Aeneas, the hero of the story, from founding the city of Rome and she thinks that a war between Aeneas’ Trojans and the native Latins would be a great idea. Juno, however, does not have the power to start the war herself, and she is unable to enlist the aid of her fellow gods, so in frustration she proclaims, “If I cannot sway the heavens, I’ll wake the powers of hell!” (7.365). So Juno plummets down to the underworld to seek Allecto and enlist her terror. But when she meets Allecto, Juno does not ask or cajole Allecto. Instead, “Juno whips her on with a challenge like a lash: / ‘Do this service for me, virgin daughter of Night, / a labor just for me’" (7.387-389). Allecto does not protest, hesitate or question the idea, but immediately acts, "In the next breath, / bloated with Gorgon venom, Allecto launches out” (7.399-400). Allecto never asks Juno “what’s in it for me?” and Juno does not offer Allecto a reason for starting the war, because she knows that Allecto does not need a reason. Juno tells Allecto “you make brothers / bound by love gear up for mutual slaughter” (7.391-392), and “you have ... / a thousand deadly arts” (7. 396-397). However, when Juno recruits the help of Aeolus, the Lord of the Winds, Juno approaches him in a different manner, Virgil tells us, “Now Juno made this plea to the Lord of the Winds” (1.77). Juno makes a plea to Aeolus, and promises him a gift if he complies (1.85-87), and then she says, “Such service earns such gifts” (1.88). Similarly, when Venus wants her own son Cupid to perform a task for her, Venus does not command, or demand, but begs it of him, implying that Cupid in contrast to Allecto needs a personal reason to act. Virgil tells us that Venus “...makes an appeal to [Cupid]”(1.791) saying, “You, my son, are my strength ... Help me, I beg you” (1.792-795). Here Venus appeals to her son’s loyalty and love for her, his mother, to perform the task. However, Allecto does not appear to need a personal reason to act. In addition to a lack of personal investment, Allecto also has no concern for the consequences of her actions.
To do Juno’s bidding, “Allecto launches out” (7.400) without concern for the consequences of her actions. Allecto is tasked to start a war, and she does not care who she hurts to do it. For example, the first thing Allecto does is “[fling] a snake from her black hair at the queen” (7.406). Allecto does not care what flinging the snake will do to the poor woman herself, only that flinging the snake could help start the war, “...the unlucky queen, whipped insane by ghastly horrors, / raves in her frenzy all throughout the city. / Wild as a top, spinning under a twisted whip” (7.440-442). Next, disguised as an old priestess, Allecto urges the king Turnus to start a war against the Trojans. When he doesn’t take her seriously, she hurls him backwards and throws a burning torch at his chest. Later, Allecto causes Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, to kill a pet deer, beloved of the family of Tyrrhus (King Latinus’ herdskeeper): “Iulus himself...aimed a shaft...and Allecto steadied his trembling hand, and the arrow shot / with a whirring rush, pierced through womb and loins” (7.579-582). A small, yet heinous event that first stirs the Latin people to war: ”Silvia, she is the first to call for rescue, / hands beating her arms, summoning hardy rustics” (7.587-588). Silvia, the daughter who raised and loved the deer is heartbroken, but Allecto doesn’t care about the girl’s feelings because the deer’s death was the tool she needed to get the country people angry in order to start the war.
And once Allecto starts destroying she cannot stop, because she has no self control: her function is to make war. “Savage Allecto, high on a lookout, spots her chance / to wreak some havoc” (7.595-596). Allecto continues on to stir up anger and hatred, even after Juno’s war is started. She says to Juno “Now I’ve spattered the Trojans red with Italian blood / I’ll add this too, if I can depend on your good will: / With rumors, I will draw the border towns into war ... I’ll sow their fields with swords!” (7.336-341). So even though Allecto’s task of starting the war is completed, she does not know when to stop. She wants to continue sowing death and destruction. Juno has to tell Allecto to cease, or she will keep going. Juno tells her, “Enough terror, treachery too ... You’re roving far too freely, high on the heaven’s winds” (7.642-647). Allecto is derived from the Greek word "Alektos," which means unceasing. Allecto has no will to restrain herself, and needs Juno’s will to continue, but "quick to Juno's command” (7.650), Allecto flies back to hell, without so much as a word of protest.
Because Allecto is a being portrayed without a free will, without a personal reason to act, or concern with the consequences of her actions, she is unable to control her actions. Allecto needs an external force of another’s will in order to be controlled. Allecto acts only in accordance with her instinct and makeup. Born ugly, she is tasked to forever torture souls as punishment for their crimes. According to Virgil, she is an entity who acts purely on instinct and her malice is inborn and unavoidable. Allecto can no more change the way she behaves than she can change the color of her eyes. She can disguise herself, or change her form from moment to moment (like she does when she becomes the priestess), but eventually her true nature will reappear. She cannot know mercy, she cannot know empathy, she cannot know love, or even self-love. The Aeneid tells us that “even her father, Pluto, loathes the monster, / even her own infernal sisters loathe her” (7.383-384). We are not told in The Aeneid why she is so awful, there is no reason given beyond that it is her nature. Perhaps Allecto is a victim—condemned to live a life of eternal damnation in Tartarus, tormenting souls, only allowed to come up for fresh air at the behest of a greater being. Perhaps she is not to blame for her hideousness, because it is in her nature. And because she has no free will, Allecto is objectified and used like a barn cat who is kept only to chase, kill, and keep away mice. Perhaps, we are to pity Allecto instead of hate her because she has no will of her own, and cannot be blamed for her crimes—it’s just how she was made.
As Jessica Rabbit says in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?: “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.”
Allecto does not need a personal reason to unleash her terror. In Book Seven, Allecto is called out of the Underworld by Juno, the queen of the gods, to start a war. Juno is angry and frustrated because she wants to prevent Aeneas, the hero of the story, from founding the city of Rome and she thinks that a war between Aeneas’ Trojans and the native Latins would be a great idea. Juno, however, does not have the power to start the war herself, and she is unable to enlist the aid of her fellow gods, so in frustration she proclaims, “If I cannot sway the heavens, I’ll wake the powers of hell!” (7.365). So Juno plummets down to the underworld to seek Allecto and enlist her terror. But when she meets Allecto, Juno does not ask or cajole Allecto. Instead, “Juno whips her on with a challenge like a lash: / ‘Do this service for me, virgin daughter of Night, / a labor just for me’" (7.387-389). Allecto does not protest, hesitate or question the idea, but immediately acts, "In the next breath, / bloated with Gorgon venom, Allecto launches out” (7.399-400). Allecto never asks Juno “what’s in it for me?” and Juno does not offer Allecto a reason for starting the war, because she knows that Allecto does not need a reason. Juno tells Allecto “you make brothers / bound by love gear up for mutual slaughter” (7.391-392), and “you have ... / a thousand deadly arts” (7. 396-397). However, when Juno recruits the help of Aeolus, the Lord of the Winds, Juno approaches him in a different manner, Virgil tells us, “Now Juno made this plea to the Lord of the Winds” (1.77). Juno makes a plea to Aeolus, and promises him a gift if he complies (1.85-87), and then she says, “Such service earns such gifts” (1.88). Similarly, when Venus wants her own son Cupid to perform a task for her, Venus does not command, or demand, but begs it of him, implying that Cupid in contrast to Allecto needs a personal reason to act. Virgil tells us that Venus “...makes an appeal to [Cupid]”(1.791) saying, “You, my son, are my strength ... Help me, I beg you” (1.792-795). Here Venus appeals to her son’s loyalty and love for her, his mother, to perform the task. However, Allecto does not appear to need a personal reason to act. In addition to a lack of personal investment, Allecto also has no concern for the consequences of her actions.
To do Juno’s bidding, “Allecto launches out” (7.400) without concern for the consequences of her actions. Allecto is tasked to start a war, and she does not care who she hurts to do it. For example, the first thing Allecto does is “[fling] a snake from her black hair at the queen” (7.406). Allecto does not care what flinging the snake will do to the poor woman herself, only that flinging the snake could help start the war, “...the unlucky queen, whipped insane by ghastly horrors, / raves in her frenzy all throughout the city. / Wild as a top, spinning under a twisted whip” (7.440-442). Next, disguised as an old priestess, Allecto urges the king Turnus to start a war against the Trojans. When he doesn’t take her seriously, she hurls him backwards and throws a burning torch at his chest. Later, Allecto causes Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, to kill a pet deer, beloved of the family of Tyrrhus (King Latinus’ herdskeeper): “Iulus himself...aimed a shaft...and Allecto steadied his trembling hand, and the arrow shot / with a whirring rush, pierced through womb and loins” (7.579-582). A small, yet heinous event that first stirs the Latin people to war: ”Silvia, she is the first to call for rescue, / hands beating her arms, summoning hardy rustics” (7.587-588). Silvia, the daughter who raised and loved the deer is heartbroken, but Allecto doesn’t care about the girl’s feelings because the deer’s death was the tool she needed to get the country people angry in order to start the war.
And once Allecto starts destroying she cannot stop, because she has no self control: her function is to make war. “Savage Allecto, high on a lookout, spots her chance / to wreak some havoc” (7.595-596). Allecto continues on to stir up anger and hatred, even after Juno’s war is started. She says to Juno “Now I’ve spattered the Trojans red with Italian blood / I’ll add this too, if I can depend on your good will: / With rumors, I will draw the border towns into war ... I’ll sow their fields with swords!” (7.336-341). So even though Allecto’s task of starting the war is completed, she does not know when to stop. She wants to continue sowing death and destruction. Juno has to tell Allecto to cease, or she will keep going. Juno tells her, “Enough terror, treachery too ... You’re roving far too freely, high on the heaven’s winds” (7.642-647). Allecto is derived from the Greek word "Alektos," which means unceasing. Allecto has no will to restrain herself, and needs Juno’s will to continue, but "quick to Juno's command” (7.650), Allecto flies back to hell, without so much as a word of protest.
Because Allecto is a being portrayed without a free will, without a personal reason to act, or concern with the consequences of her actions, she is unable to control her actions. Allecto needs an external force of another’s will in order to be controlled. Allecto acts only in accordance with her instinct and makeup. Born ugly, she is tasked to forever torture souls as punishment for their crimes. According to Virgil, she is an entity who acts purely on instinct and her malice is inborn and unavoidable. Allecto can no more change the way she behaves than she can change the color of her eyes. She can disguise herself, or change her form from moment to moment (like she does when she becomes the priestess), but eventually her true nature will reappear. She cannot know mercy, she cannot know empathy, she cannot know love, or even self-love. The Aeneid tells us that “even her father, Pluto, loathes the monster, / even her own infernal sisters loathe her” (7.383-384). We are not told in The Aeneid why she is so awful, there is no reason given beyond that it is her nature. Perhaps Allecto is a victim—condemned to live a life of eternal damnation in Tartarus, tormenting souls, only allowed to come up for fresh air at the behest of a greater being. Perhaps she is not to blame for her hideousness, because it is in her nature. And because she has no free will, Allecto is objectified and used like a barn cat who is kept only to chase, kill, and keep away mice. Perhaps, we are to pity Allecto instead of hate her because she has no will of her own, and cannot be blamed for her crimes—it’s just how she was made.
As Jessica Rabbit says in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?: “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.”
Saturday, September 1, 2018
Do you remember?
I used to be terrified of writing.
Until I attended the Great Books Writer's Workshop, and I found out that writing a good essay is just like writing a good song: tell a good story.
I learned many things about what makes a good story during the Great Book Writer's Workshop. For example, I learned that a good story encourages thought. A good story has a point, a main theme; a purpose. A good story has a foundation to stand upon, because without a good foundation, even the most beautiful words will fall apart. But my favorite thing that I learned at the Workshop was that a good story will have a hook, that little bit of interest that captures your readers' attention and makes them want to hear more or read on. I can relate to the idea of the hook, because I love to write songs, and without a "hook" in my lyrics the song will not compel my listeners to hear more.
What makes a hook compelling? I believe it's a combination of information and mystery. Enough information to give you an idea of what to expect and enough mystery to prepare you to be surprised. "I Took a Pill in Ibeza." Okay, but why? What events led you to that decision and what happened after? "Do you remember, the twenty-first night of September?" No, tell me about it! Do these sound like good essay titles? (I apparently thought so. 😳)
A good hook must also make your entire story, song or essay, memorable. A friend once told me that a certain lyrical hook in a song was absolutely appalling, so infantile in its construction, that it made him want to vomit. Of course, he remembered exactly what the hook was and what the song was about. And I don't think he will forget it for a long while (sadly for him). Although it made him sick, he remembered it, and there the hook was effective. I feel that memorability is the most important factor to determine the quality of a hook. If it's not memorable, then there's no point.
So do your readers a favor (I will try my best too!), tell them a good story, and let them know it will be worth the read by starting with a good hook.
Have fun!
AJ
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