Aeschylus I: Oresteia

by Aeschylus, Richmond Lattimore (Editor), David Grene (Editor)

Genres: Classics, Plays, Drama, Fiction, Mythology, Literature, School

171 pages, Paperback

Published May 15, 1969

About the author

Greek Αισχύλος , Esquilo in Spanish, Eschyle in French, Eschilo in Italian, Эсхил in Russian.

Aeschylus (c. 525/524 BC – c. 456 BC) was an ancient Greek tragedian often described as the father of tragedy. Academic knowledge of the genre begins with his work, and understanding of earlier Greek tragedy is largely based on inferences made from reading his surviving plays. According to Aristotle, he expanded the number of characters in the theatre and allowed conflict among them. Formerly, characters interacted only with the chorus.
Only seven of Aeschylus's estimated 70 to 90 plays have survived. There is a long-standing debate regarding the authorship of one of them, Prometheus Bound, with some scholars arguing that it may be the work of his son Euphorion. Fragments from other plays have survived in quotations, and more continue to be discovered on Egyptian papyri. These fragments often give further insights into Aeschylus' work. He was likely the first dramatist to present plays as a trilogy. His Oresteia is the only extant ancient example. At least one of his plays was influenced by the Persians' second invasion of Greece (480–479 BC). This work, The Persians, is one of very few classical Greek tragedies concerned with contemporary events, and the only one extant. The significance of the war with Persia was so great to Aeschylus and the Greeks that his epitaph commemorates his participation in the Greek victory at Marathon while making no mention of his success as a playwright.

Reviews

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Murder, betrayal, revenge, torment . . . you might wonder, “Why would I bother reading three Greek plays when I could see the same sort of lurid problems on an episode of Jerry Springer? And fold laundry at the same time??” Two possible answers: First, you’re not going to get patricide, matricide, human sacrifice and unintentional cannibalism on daytime TV because we still draw the line somewhere, and you have to admit those are pretty dramatic. More importantly, though, along with the dysfunction in the House of Atreus comes a searing examination of guilt, retribution, and justice. It’s a lot of philosophical bang for your buck.

The first play in the trilogy, Agamemnon, sets up the conflict for the remaining two. Agamemnon returns home from the Trojan War to his wife, Clytemnestra, who has spent the last ten years plotting revenge because he sacrificed their daughter to appease a god at the outset of the journey. The verbal interplay at their reunion is the stuff of English majors’ dreams. Clytaemnestra’s subsequent murder of Agamemnon, with the help of a lover who has his own history with Agamemnon, is the stuff of Mafia dreams – though actually I’m only guessing on that one. However, Clytaemnestra’s revenge creates the conflict that drives the other two plays and generates the ethical conundrum Aeschylus ultimately wants to solve. For now Clytaemnestra’s son, Orestes, needs to avenge his father’s death . . . but what happens if you kill your own mother? And how is the cycle of revenge ever supposed to end??

The Libation Bearers has Orestes debating what he should do, sort of like Hamlet, until the advice of his sister and the chorus women wins the day. . . and that’s when the excitement kicks up a notch. Clytaemnestra’s death at the hand of her son calls forth the avenging Furies — ancient goddesses of chthonic tradition who appear here as gorgon-like horrors, swathed in black, heads writhing with snakes. It’s so dramatic!! Also it’s fitting, for Clytaemnestra is like a Fury herself: in avenging her daughter’s death she acts within the old paradigm of blood ties that the Furies champion, wherein maternal claims are stronger than marital.

So even though Orestes does his duty to avenge his father (in accordance with the current ethos), he’s pursed by snaky-haired horrors for killing his mother. Like his father, Orestes appears to be both an agent and a victim of fate, for in following the gods’ direction to avenge his father’s death, he both aligns himself with the Furies’ spirit of vengeance and becomes subject to it. Perhaps Orestes’ contradictory relationship with the Furies is Aeschylus’s commentary on a theology rife with snares and contradictions. In The Eumenides, Aeschylus resolves the problem, but his “solution” to the blood feud tradition is hardly unproblematic itself — read it and lose sleep! But you’ll know for sure why this is a masterpiece.

[Marquise · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars for Agamemnon, 4 stars for The Libation Bearers, and 5 stars for Eumenides, so I'm giving an average of 4 stars to this edition.

The Orestiad is the only legend of which we have the retold versions by the Big Three (Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides) playwrights, which is the reason I'm reading them side by side for comparison. It's a story dealing with the post-Trojan War destinies of the House of Atreus (Agamemnon, the brother Menelaus, the wife Clytemnestra, her lover Aegisthus, and the children Electra, Chrysothemis and Orestes). This family is so super-mega-extra cursed that they make House Lannister look blessed by the Old Gods, the Seven, and R'hllor combined.

Though the story is named after the avenging Orestes, who eventually manages to break the clan's generations-long curse, I see Electra as the most interesting character. She's the one that makes the plot unfold by refusing to bend to her murderous mother and saving her baby brother from her and the usurper king. Makes you wonder just what version Sigmund Freud was reading when he decided to name the Electra Complex after her, because I for one am not seeing it as fitting as the rationale for naming the Oedipus Complex after the Theban hero of that name. Electra is far from an obsessive maniac, and her reasons for opposing Clytemnestra actually do make sense. which is also why I'm rating the last play in the trilogy the highest, because in the trial of Orestes, the gods have to argue for and against, and they do end up taking Electra's argument into account through Apollo and Orestes' mouths.

As for characterisation, Sophocles did a better job with Electra and Euripides is tied with Aeschylus in his portrayal of Orestes, but Aeschylus is the better writer of the three, in my opinion, although also the most grandiloquent and solemn of them, which might not endear his style to readers as much as the more cheeky and banter-inclined style of Euripides (whose take on Electra I have yet to read). Translations can impact enjoyment of the Oresteia, too. I had chosen the Penguin Classics edition first, but I didn't like the translator, in spite of normally liking Fagles' translations. His style just didn't suit this particular tragedian's, I think. So I went on and leafed through the Delphi Classics edition to see if it was better, until I settled for the Oxford University Press edition by Burian & Shapiro as editors, which is the one I've read and would recommend for beginners wishing to meet Aeschylus.

[Hibou le Literature Supporter · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Between my prayer for good and prayer for good, I set this prayer for evil." - Elektra. These three plays form an epilogue to the Iliad, and drudge up the horrible backstory of Agamemnon's father and uncle's rivalry. Yes, there's murder and eating of children. There is matricide, patricide, infanticide, and throw in a courtroom drama involving the Furies, Athena, and Apollo, and of course Orestes, the young man who makes bold decisions.

[A.J. Howard · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just a few edition specific notes, because, really, who gives a shit what I have to say about Orestia. What am I going to say, "gee I don't really see what the greatest minds in Western Civilization over the past 2500 years see in this thing, it was boring." Nope, no one needs me to cape up for Aeschylus.

Anyways, I was fretting over picking a translation before I had the problem solved for me by finding a nice used copy of the Richard Lattimore translation. I can't really speak to the comparative quality of this translation, but I didn't find any faults in it either. There is a pretty great introductory essay, that particularly serves the reader well for Agamemnon, but doesn't cover the next two plays (The Libation Bearers and The Eumenides) particularly well. (I would guess that the essay was originally written for an earlier volume that only included Agamemnon, and Lattimore quickly updated it for this volume.)

However serviceable this essay was, explanatory notes were sorely missed. Unless you're either a expert's expert on Greek mythology or a transplant from pre-Alexandrine Hellas there is a lot of references that you're just not going to be able to get. There's only so much Wikipedia can do to help you. Hence, some of the long choral sections have a tendency to be either beautifully poetic or utterly incomprehensible. Hopscotching to reference notes can be a pain, but here it would be worth it.

[Mikaela S. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having read Homer’s “The Odyssey” thrice, and possessing knowledge of several Greek classics/mythology, I so excited to read the tale of Agamemnon. I had no idea that Aeschylus wrote these plays around the idea of Agamemnon from “the Odyssey” and that his son would face such outlast from the Furies. It was interesting to see the duality between women and father-son dynamics in “The Odyssey” vs the “Oresteia.” This just painted a larger image of the Greek plays consisting of Homer, Sophocles, and the Trojan War.

{thrift find}

[Ivan Stoner · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading the Oresteia is cool because it connects you with thousands of years of Western civilization and gives a feeling of the continuity of the human experience. Also it's fun to learn about ancient Greece.

But as a work of literature? It didn't move me. Murder, revenge, murder, revenge. Yeah, it's a problem for sure. But it feels more like Aeschylus laying out a basic philosophical foundation for legal justice at unnecessary length than writing a story.

Also Lattimore's translation (particularly of Agamemnon) felt bafflingly... bad? This is one of those things where many smart people like it, and I don't see it, so I assume the problem is with me. I've heard it described as an "academic" translation. I'm not totally sure what that means. But it reads like it was written a very erudite person who doesn't speak English very well. That can't possibly be a translator's goal.

I'm kicking myself a bit for buying his "Complete Greek Tragedies" set. (At least he's only the editor, and didn't translate every one. Maybe I'll like some of the other folks better. On to Euripides!)

[Taka · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good stuff--

Although somewhat confusing in parts (esp. the Chorus), it was still a pleasure to read one of the oldest surviving Greek tragedies. The only complete trilogy of Aeschylus surviving, Oresteia tells the story of Clytemnestra's murder of her husband, Agamemnon, then Agamemnon's son, Orestes's revenge on his own mother and her whipped wimp of a lover, Aegisthus, and finally Orestes's reconciliation with the crime of matricide in a bit surreal court scene of Apollo defending Orestes's murder against the accusation of the Furies (Eumenides) in front of a tribunal which Athena quickly composes of wise mortal men, saying that she the divinity/goddess of wisdom herself wasn't quite up to par to render judgment in such a hard case but those mortals put together can.

Overall, I liked it.

[Keely · Rating 5 out of 5]

bought a used copy of the oresteia thinking i’d flip through it and maybe extract some quotations. ended up reading the entire thing in one day, absolutely engrossed. blood-soaked stories of betrayal and sorrow, dynastic kinslayers, vengeful goddesses, fragile justice, and the razor-thin margin between love and hate. the images from the narrative shine clearly in my mind even after setting the book aside: a poisonous viper held to a mother’s breast, an entrapping net, a shot arrow, spilt blood soaking into the earth. what an amazing thing, to have been so moved by words written so long ago!

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is definitely not my preferred genre, but it is a classic, and worth familiarizing yourself with it. It is a bit difficult to read without a good background in Greek mythology, but the introduction to this edition is very helpful in that regard.

[Sam Gilbert · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lattimore's translation is not as clear as Hughes's or others, but it responds to the Greek with alliterations, rhymes, faithful scansion, and must be ajudged superior. The plays themselves are stunning, though some will find Apollo's argument in The Eumenides a bit hard to swallow.

[James Swenson · Rating 3 out of 5]

To get the Greek armies to Troy, king Agamemnon must appease the gods by sacrificing his daughter Iphigenia. This makes queen Clytemnestra so angry that she and her lover Aegisthus murder Agamemnon when he gets back from the wars, after first making him walk on a purple rug. They also kill Cassandra, which does not surprise her. (End of Agamemnon -- and of Agamemnon, of course.) But Agamemnon and Clytemnestra have kids, Orestes and Electra. Orestes returns from exile, and he and Electra pray for a very long time, then kill their mother and her lover. Clytemnestra is only moderately surprised, because she had just dreamed of giving birth to a snake. (End of The Libation Bearers.) The Furies have the right and duty to punish Orestes for killing his mother, but he runs to Apollo's temple, saying that Apollo told him to do it. Apollo puts the Furies to sleep while Orestes runs to Athens. There, Athena convenes a jury to try Orestes, but they deadlock, so Athena breaks the tie: Orestes gets away with it. The Furies threaten to rampage, but Athena buys them off by putting them in charge of Athens. This is why, in later times, the defendant is freed whenever his trial ends in a tie vote. (End of The Eumenides.)

You might think that I'm only hitting the high points -- but I think I've listed every actual event.

So, between the action, the characters have a lot of time to talk. We learn mainly that people in ancient Greece were very different from us. Which is an interesting thing to learn, in fact.

I'm supposed to comment on the translation, I suppose, but I don't speak Greek. In a blurb on the back cover, Kenneth Rexroth calls them "Clear accurate reflections of the Greek in well-polished mirrors of contemporary American language and taste." Maybe this is true, or maybe it's true only by comparison to other translations. From The Libation Bearers:

Child, when the fire burns

and tears with teeth at the dead man

it can not wear out the heart of will.

He shows his wrath in the after-

days. One dies, and is dirged.

Light falls on the man who killed him.

He is hunted down by the deathsong

for sires slain and for fathers,

disturbed, and stern, and enormous. (p. 104)

I understand every word here, so maybe we should blame Aeschylus:

Someone does

something to someone else.

Another thing is done

to that one by another, then another.

Another? What, or who, or

whom? Adverb verbed the adjective object

hath the adjective

subject adverbially.

[Michael Canoeist · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having seen the hill of Argos rising from across the Peloponnesian plain from where we stood at Mycenae this spring, I had to go back to this famed trilogy of Greek tragedy and reread for the first time since college. The issues and conflicts were more complex than I think I had understood back then. Clytaemestra makes a powerful case for the justice that she deals out to Agamemnon, in that first play. She neglects to mention the role of Aegisthus, however -- her conflict of interest.

In The Libation Bearers, Clytie has sent servants to carry oils to pour onto Agamemnon's grave. She is reportedly spooked by a dream she had. Orestes, the son, and his sister Electra are quite put out by this opportunistic show from their father's murderer. It finally drives them to take action of their own. The sense I took from this and the whole trilogy was that, for the ancient Greeks, settling grievances by killing one another, especially family members, was a recognized, if not routine, course of action. The House of Atreus, the original patriarch, was bloody but did not seem unique. One suggestion of mercy was universally spurned as inadequate to the situation.

The Eumenides are the Furies, and the title of the final play. Orestes is pursued by these harpies who must haunt murderers to balance the cosmic scales. For all that he thinks he dealt justice, they must exact their own vengeance upon him. Apollo calls them to account, and the scene where he challenges their actions illustrates the confusing mishmash of laws and whims that make up the dramatic action. No one knows what the gods will do; the gods don't agree; they don't even know each other in all cases; and the conflicting rules that seem to result made me dizzy as I tried to follow or discern the approved notion of justice in this lurid soap opera of misdeeds.

Literature has, over time, improved upon the dramatic structures of these tragedies, I think; but in their starkness, in the simplicity of their unities, and in their plain talk of the characters' motivations, these still have psychological truths to speak to us through the melodrama of their plots. The attitudes toward the gods were far more ambiguous than I remembered from my college readings. Among the mortals, certainly none of Aeschylus's characters are pure. While we sympathize with Orestes, the issue of who is a hero and who a villain is left for the audience to settle for themselves. Along that line, the choruses are often the wisest of all.

[Ted · Rating 4 out of 5]

A second time reading this was very beneficial, which I wasn't expecting. It helped to have a healthier knowledge of the people and events of the Trojan War. Knowing the weight that characters carry with them, the histories they've survived, and the epic scope of what they're all dealing with all fed into a much more emotionally intensive reading of the trilogy.

First of all, Latimore's translation felt more vivid than the original I read, which was Roche's. I can't attest to the accuracy of either translation, I can only speak for my experience being more enriched this second time around. Secondly, Latimore's introduction was incredibly helpful. He gave great context to the entire Trojan War, highlighting characters and events in ways I hadn't thought of before. The more I've learned about the characters of the Trojan Cycle, the more amazed I am at their depth.

I kept imagining the high drama in the trilogy in two ways: one as a play actually put on in Ancient Greece: with masks and primitive 'effects,' all on a stage in a colosseum. Yet I also imagined it as if it were a real story, at a great palace or barren tomb, with intense violence, conducted by passionate royalty, majestic gods and horrifying monsters. It was a treat to experience both versions: as Aeschylus showed his audience, and how he wanted them to imagine it.

One thing I thought particularly fascinating was the incredibly strong force of female characters throughout the story. I hesitate to put the modern term 'feminist' on the trilogy, but I can't help but note how much an unstoppable force Clytemnestra is, and how pivotal Athena is. To me, at least, it seems obvious that the females of this trilogy hold real power.

The Great Conversation: What does it Say?--1) While The Iliad showed the wide range of emotion, The Oresteia showed the great depth of it. Hatred and sorrow can consume us. And with that consumption, there are consequences. 2) For society to function, we must have law. Law has to trump emotion. There is plenty of room for discussion on the personal level about the instinct for revenge, but if humanity is to move forward, law must govern mankind.

Quotes:
'Zeus, who guided men to think,
Who has laid it down that wisdom
Comes alone through suffering.
Still there drips in sleep against the heart
Grief of memory; against
Our will temperance comes.
From the gods who sit in grandeur
Grace is somehow violent.'
--'The Agamemnon' lines 176-183

Soundtrack: God is an Astronaut: Frozen Twilight

[Rick · Rating 4 out of 5]

A more formal and, if you will, more elegant translation than Anne Carson’s just published An Oresteia, Lattimore’s Oresteia provides two counterpoints to Carson. One is the translator’s approach; second is the tale told by the three dramas. Carson, working on a commission, constructed an Oresteia from Aeschylus (Agamemnon), Sophocles (Elektra), and Euripides (Orestes), that is a relay of sorts not imagined by the plays authors, whereas the Oresteia by Aeschylus is an intended sequence, a single creative mind’s take on a classic story. I enjoyed them both, though found Carson’s exhilerating and Lattimore’s beautiful but less convincing.

Perhaps one difference is that Carson stressed the plays as dramas and Lattimore attended to them as poetry. Carson captured vitality and an immediacy that undermines the stated notion that all the action is fated or the responsibility of petulant gods and goddesses, but allows mortal choice to be the primary agent of the tragedies that unfold. Lattimore captures the high diction, which reads at times marvelously but lends itself more to declamation than dialogue, making the action static and the rhetoric all—though it is amazing rhetoric. Plus, the three plays by Aeschylus build to Orestes’s acquittal which is both unsatisfying (as if Son of Sam had been acquitted because a dog appeared and testified that he had indeed told him to do the shootings) as drama and as ethics, ignoring the mass of violence that animates the whole house of Atreus horror show. With Carson you believe that Orestes has been driven mad by the consequences of his actions, the role he’s played in the cycle of blind revenge. Her cycle stops with Orestes, before Apollo guides him to his day in court. Euripides is also more irreverent and dismissive of authority, giving Carson’s cycle room to build to a different effect. Lattimore didn’t have such freedom but he did have a dramatist who was perhaps the greatest poet of the three great tragedians of classical Greece and the language does sing its own operatic song and through the first two plays it is often moving and wise.

It is one of the gifts of classical literature that wonderful translations abound, providing opportunities for readers to approach and re-approach great works from different angles.

[Mel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've read other plays by Aeschylus and really enjoyed them, particularly the way he writes about gender dynamics. I must admit Agamemnon took me awhile to get into (I think this was partly due to the fact I started with another translation). I enjoyed Clymenestra but found the old male chorus a bit dull. I must say I really liked the portrayl of Clymenestra as the fierce mother and totally was on her side against Agamemnon! But I really Loved Cassandra's speeches. I thought she was great. The Libation bearers I thought was interesting. But I found it strange that the kids had no sympathy for their mother. Did they not remember or like their sister? I mean she'd have done the same for them (presumably) if their father had decided to sacrifice them to the gods, so why did he get all their sympathy? I must say though I still enjoyed it. The Eumenides had the best chorus of any Greek play I've read. I LOVED the Furies. I think they were definitely my favourite characters. (I'm sure it must say something about a play when the chorus has the best part). They were just so driven and mad and RIGHT! I was terribly disapointed in Apollo, his whole "mothers do nothing for their children and it's only the fathers who are important" line was pretty reprehensible. All told I think the characters that were condemmed did the right thing and those that were vindicated the wrong. But then I guess that's why it's a tragedy. Despite some very misogynistic feelings it was still and interesting look and gender roles and society roles. The ending where Athena tried to tame the furies seemed odd. Not so much that she tried it, but that they bought it! But I must say there were some fantastic women characters in these plays. Still enjoyable to read and I look forward to seeing it on stage tomorrow.

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm self-conscious about the temerity of imposing a one-star penalty on AESCHYLUS. I think I've mentioned on Goodreads before how I saw the Crickets open for Nanci Griffith, and how Griffith, appalled at the unenthusiastic reception these legendary musicians were getting from 90s hipsters, more or less read us the riot act about our disrespect. "These guys are too cool for school!," she said, "They invented this [rock and roll]!" Likewise Aeschylus. Is it even fair to compare the trail breaker with all those who came after? Shoulders of giants and all that.

As it happens, though, Aeschylus fares just fine in such a comparison. Agamemnon, while odd and archaic and sometimes downright impenetrable, is just dazzling. The Libation Bearers is only slightly less excellent. Talk about pity and terror! Right out of the gate, Aeschylus set a standard for literary excellence and psychological sophistication with respect to play crafting that few have equaled in the ensuing centuries. Plus, if the stories are to be believed, he died by getting dive-bombed with a tortoise by an eagle. If that's not too cool for school, author-bio-wise, I don't know what is.

I had to take off a star, though, because The Eumenides, despite a CHORUS OF FURIES, is such a topical, preachy, programmatic disappointment. I understand that the terrible, treacherous cycle of revenge established in the first two plays had to be resolved and that a jingoistic tribute to Athenian institutions can hardly be held against a humble poet angling for a civic award, but after the wrenching human complexity of the first two plays, the compromise worked out among the convocation of new and old deities at the conclusion of the trilogy is a deflating anticlimax evocative - if I may compare the sublime to the ridiculous - of Scooby-Doo.

[Abrahamus · Rating 4 out of 5]

This trilogy of three plays by Aeschylus (Agamemnon, The Libation Bearers, and The Eumenides) focuses on the cursed household of Agamemnon. The famous Argive king is murdered by his wife, Clytaemestra and her lover, Aegisthus, shortly after returning home victorious from Troy. The guilty pair are in turn butchered by duty-bound Orestes, son of the royal couple, who is subsequently driven mad by the avenging Furies, since his official role as avenger of his father's blood is not enough to excuse him from the horrible sin of matricide. Apollo and Athena intervene, decree a change of venue (to Athens), establish a court of justice, and, after working out a deal that amounts to bribery, bring about the acquittal of Orestes. This myth handily accounts for a number of features of Athenian society in the 5th century B.C., including trial-by-jury (with the jury being comprised of 12 jurors), which practice prevails down to the present in our own legal system, and the cultic reverence for the Eumenidies ("the kindly ones", as the Furies were recast) in Athenian religious life. Most notably we see the psychological plight of pagan man poignantly illustrated in the Greek fashion: at the mercy of capricious, contradictory, unknowable and undependable gods (i.e. demonic forces, I Cor. 10:20), the state (polis) is set forth as man's best hope of rectifying the mess these deities have created.

[Tim · Rating 4 out of 5]

While the back cover of the Chicago edition hails the Lattimore translation as a poetic rendering done by an accomplished poet, the experience of reading this translation struck me in a number of ways as resembling that of a literal English translation of biblical text. There are certainly moments when the beauty of the language shines through with (what I assume to be) the syntax of the original Greek, but this fidelity comes at a cost. The wording can be cumbersome and somewhat difficult to follow at times, and is delivered in a rhythm that I found unsatisfying when read aloud. There are always, of course, debates about the proper extent to which artistic liberties may be taken to produce a more readable text, and in his translation Lattimore seems to opt for a more conservative stance on this issue.

After finishing the Lattimore edition largely underwhelmed, I tried again with the Fagles translation. Other reviewers have compared various lines between the two translations, and this illustrates the contrast well. I found reading Fagles' text to be a much more enjoyable experience, as it maintains a better flow and is both more understandable and intuitive. That being said, there is merit to more literal translations, and for what it is Lattimore's translation is certainly not bad. However, if this is your first encounter with the work or with Greek tragedy as a whole, I would would recommend reading Fagles as a starting point.

[Jack · Rating 3 out of 5]

To my mind, the most interesting aspect of these three plays occurs in the Libation Bearers: namely, that the fate of Orestes rests in whether an old servant woman who is sent to fetch Aegisthus will tell him to come to the atrium with his bodyguard, or alone, unsuspecting the revenge that is to be wreaked upon him. Aeschylus seems to suggest something very nuanced here - that the entire thread of this story, the myth, the life of Orestes, retribution, justice, etc. hangs on a single small decision by a minor figure of little consequence otherwise. What then is the role of fate (or Fate) in our human lives when so small a thing can decide the balance of our greatest ambitions, even when spurred on by the gods to take an action deemed righteous?

Of course, there is another place where such fine balance is suggested: in the Eumenides, when Athena is weighing the decisions of the Athenian jury as to which side of the case against Orestes is correct - again, everything hangs in the balance; and what if Athena or Zeus had looked the other way?

[Sharon · Rating 5 out of 5]

"..they are utterly repulsive. And they snore with breath that drives one back. From their eyes drips the foul ooze, and their dress is such as it not right to wear..." This is a description of the furies-something I might be called if I've not had a good nights sleep. It is also a fairly accurate description of me in the morning. I do need new pajamas.

Seriously though:

In Agamemnon I saw a man who literally sacrificed a child on the altar of misplaced loyalty and ambition.

In Clytaemestra (Agamenon's wife) I saw a woman whose grief turned to bitterness. In consequence, she exiled her remaining children and became worse than her husband, the one whom she despised.

In Orestes their child and the avenger of his father's murder....

This leads me to what I like best about reading Greek tragedies. They cause one to think. They don't so much arouse emotion or sensuality as they do contemplation.

Sorry to leave you hanging. I'm not good at book reviews.

[Katerina · Rating 2 out of 5]

Three Greek tragedies make up the Oresteia: Agamemnon, the Libation Bearers, and the Eumenides. Together they tell the story of Agamemnon’s son, Orestes. In the first play, Agamemnon’s wife, Clytaemestra, kills him to revenge the death of her daughter, whom Agamemnon sacrificed to gain favorable winds for sailing to Troy. In the second play, Orestes kills Clytaemestra, his mother, for killing his father and stealing his throne. In the third play Orestes is hunted by the Furies - they seek the death of anyone who kills a parent. He flees to Apollo and Athene for help. Although the story moves slowly, it is fairly short and a good introduction to Greek tragedies. The murders and background information make it a PG-13.

[Briana · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a nice way to start off the school year. The story line was fun, the characters were interesting, the text was poetic...lots to enjoy. More people should read Greek plays. They're more accessible than one might think.

The only thing that frustrated me was that all of the killing scenes were very not descriptive. My shallow action-movie side wanted to see blood and gore and guts but noooooo, everyone goes inside the house to die, and all you get is an offstage "Aaack!" Lots of dramatic speeches about revenge, but after you get through all that, the visual payoff is sadly lacking. Very disappointing. (Because I'm sure Aeschylus cares what I think...)

In my head, Orestes and Hamlet go to the same counseling sessions.

[Mary D · Rating 5 out of 5]

Law and Order of Ancient Greece.

First the story behind the offense,
Then the crime (in this case the series of crimes),
Finally the court case.

A terrific tale that was partly told in the Odyessy but fully fleshed out in the Oresteia. This story of what we might today call a "dysfunctional", angry family. Three generations of angry relatives seeking revenge on each other and each with their own justification for their crimes. The final section of the book has a court case with Athene making the deciding vote on the guilt of Orestes' matricide. It is remarkable how similar the terminology and justice systems have remained. Also as remarkable is the sucking up and wheeling and dealing done to cut a deal. Some things just don't change.

[Raja · Rating 4 out of 5]

The only trilogy of Greek Tragedies that is still with us today, the Oresteia details the difficulties and horrors borne by the cursed House of Atreus. It served as a great introduction to Greek Tragedy in Classics 112 at Stanford and skillfully dramatizes the characters' investigation of the interwoven and timeless issues of destiny/free will, justice, and the nature of god. I particularly appreciated encountering the idea of double determination (Agamemnon "put on necessity's yoke") and reading about the (likely biased) trial of Orestes, which seems to have influenced the form of modern day trials.

[Gaetano Venezia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Right's anvil stands staunch on the ground
and the smith, Destiny, hammers out the sword.
Delayed in glory, pensive from
the murk, Vengeance brings home at last
a child, to wipe out the stain of blood shed long ago.
—"Libation Bearers" line: 646

There is no mortal man who shall turn
unhurt his life's course to an end not marred.
—"Libation Bearers" 1018

You wish to be called righteous rather than act right.
—"The Eumenides" 430

[Brian Willis · Rating 3 out of 5]

A trilogy full of all that made the ancient Greek tragedies great: murder, vengeance, and redemption. The Oresteia would be a great story even if told in a modern setting. I can only settle on 3 stars for this translation as I found Lattimore's representation was clunky and stilted, much too literally translated to give justice to the poetry. I would go with a little looser translation, and Fagles is probably a good selection.

[Guyon · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well-conceived trilogy on the theme of retributive justice- if one takes revenge for another's wrong, and then another takes revenge in response to that act- where does the violence stop? Whether or not you enjoy the style of these plays, they are filled with powerful and fascinating imagery, and are worthwhile reads for anyone interested in myth, symbolism, and the development of our own civilization; and with these three plays specifically, its justice system.

[Jodi · Rating 2 out of 5]

It was a fairly dull read, with lots and lots of talking and very little action in the spirit of the ideal Greek tragedy. I did enjoy learning much more about Greek mythology which I have found fascinating. I also appreciated too gaining a little more background into Greek society during the time Aeschylus wrote these three plays.

[Melora · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm giving this five stars for Agamemnon. I only give The Libation Bearers four. I wouldn't have objected to a few more explanatory notes in the text, but the Introduction was very good. I'm not normally a fan of murder, but Agamemnon is such a jerk that killing him hardly seemed like a crime. I'd have liked Clytaemnestra better, though, if she'd let Cassandra go.

[Jamesboggie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oresteia is a three part play written by the Ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus. It reveals the fate of Agamemnon after the Trojan War. More importantly, it celebrates the transition from traditional retribution justice to trial by jury.

The speeches are long, but you should expect that in classical drama. I felt each part was better than the last. Of course, it is best when seen performed.