Clytemnestra; our brutal heroine

A few blog posts ago, I delved into the legend and archaeological proclamation of the Amazons - a fierce warrior women tribe located in the Pontus mountains of modern day Libya. The piece on them was my small attempt at putting women from the ancient world into the spotlight, rightfully alongside the notable male warriors and heroes that the bards often sing too much about. So, in line with that, for this blog post, I wanted to bring into the spotlight...the daughter of Tyndareus and Leda, sister to Helen of Troy, wife to King Agamemnon... Clytemnestra.

To write this piece, I returned to the podcast episode of "Natalie Haynes stands up for the Classics" (which I could not recommend enough). Here, she champions Clytemnestra's perspective, not just as a murderous and adulterous wife, but instead as a mother shaped abruptly by immeasurable grief and revenge. Her episode touched me and more importantly her brilliant reframing of this misunderstood character shifted the ground of my previously held feelings.

At this point, I would like to offer a very brief refresher to anyone who isn't familiar with Clytemnestra's story before I carry on. Mother to Iphegina, Electra, Orestes and Chyrsothemis, Clytemnestra was married to the King of Mycanae, Agammemnon. During the battle of Troy, the Greek fleet was met with tempestuous weather on the way to Troy and stranded at Aulis. Agamemnon decided to - may I add involuntarily - sacrifice their daughter Iphigenia to appease the goddess Artemis to provide relief to the ships through the unprecedented bad weather. Iphigenia's sacrifice was bloodthirsty and described as being comparable to that of an animal's. Not much is written about Clytemnestra's immediate response to her daughter's murderous fate, but she remains in Mycenae, with her grief festering and her rage developing into a stinging sense of betrayal that never heals. Some sources detail Clytemnestra shortly after taking in Aegisthus - Agamemnon's cousin (ouch) - as a lover and ally, whilst her husband is away at war. This is often used to depict her as libellous and vindictive, although I would like to point out that it can be interpreted as a way for her to politically survive as a queen with her husband absent. When Agamemnon returns from war, she traps him in a net-like robe and kills him with an axe. Alongisde Agamemnon, she also kills Cassandra, the Trojan princess, he had brought back as a concubine. Clytemnestra's 'betrayal' is seen as so infinite, that her husband is written to have still been complaining about her in the underworld! (Kind of legendary?)

Haynes' podcast shifted my own feelings away from when I first encountered Clytemnestra myself in school; I viewed her as a classic adulterous wife-with-a-knife trope. Another woman, engulfed in limitless passion who was faced with her own tragic ending. But suddenly, I was pulled into a different realm; a realm in which a woman's maternal identity had been permanently shattered. A woman who had her young daughter kidnapped and murdered to fulfil the prophecy of a war for the greed and lust of men. This portrayal welcomes us to see her act of murder as not a scandalous domestic affair, but rather as a cosmic explosion, one formulated in response to the most egregious violation - the murder of her child guised as a pious sacrifice.

I would also like to focus some attention to the etymology of Clytemnestra's name. In later sources, our character is referred to as 'Menes' - a shortened version of her name. "Menes" can be interpreted to mean 'cunning', 'planner' or 'schemer' - which aligns perfectly with her patiently waiting for over ten years and her strategic and calculated mind. On the other hand, "Menes" is used to describe insatiable wrath and a rage remembering quality. More impressively, it is the word used to describe Achilles' fury in the first line of the Iliad. One could argue that the deliberate use of heroic language, used to also describe (arguably) the most significant hero in the Greek world, is telling us that her revenge is deserving and comprehensible to the audience. A true testament to her actions.

One of my favourite scenes in Aescyhlus' tragedy is Clytemnestra's fearless confrontation with the chorus of Argive elders. The chorus, made of respectable older citizens of Argos, try to appease to our heroine, and encourage her to restrain herself. Instead, they are met with her provocation and essentially a physical challenge! She threatens them with force if they dare to place themselves in the path of moral righteousness...twelve men! A symbol of social assertion, aggression and sovereignty. This scene allows the chorus to stand in for the audience, which is pivotal for the audience's understanding of the complex ethical situation she has found herself in unwillingly.

I would be doing Clytemnestra a disservice if I didn't argue that she fits the character description of a Classic Greek hero. A woman who experienced the highest form of disloyalty and perfidy. A woman who cunningly trapped the 'King of Greece' in his own sins, metaphorically and literally, and then struck him purposefully with an axe. So let us sit with her grief. The impenetrable wound she had to carry for a decade. The bravery of her to avenge her daughter in the most intimate, theatrical and masculine form ever.

To conclude, Menes was an abominable wife, but a remarkable mother. And I would venture to say... a hero.

P.S, I hope you enjoy the magnificent painting of Clytemnestra I have attached of her wielding an axe. "Clytemnestra, after the Murder" by John Collier.

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