Iphigenia in Aulis

As a modern reader, reading this ancient Greek piece will likely give you a bit of a headache. Here, Euripides depicts how Agamemnon, the commander-in-chief of the Greek punitive expedition against Troy, constantly changes his mind regarding a crucial decision. After all, a prophet has commanded him to kill his daughter Iphigenia as a sacrifice to obtain a favorable wind so that he can sail to Troy with the waiting Greek fleet.

We see Agamemnon constantly wavering, first in one direction, then in the other, driven by his brother Menelaus (who himself also revises his opinion a few times), by his wife Clytemnestra, by his conscience, and by the pressure of leadership. Whatever decision he makes, it will haunt him for the rest of his life. show more To my knowledge, there is only one other early story in world literature that depicts such a tragic catch-22, namely the biblical story of the sacrifice of Abraham. But that reference immediately clarifies the difference: in the biblical story, it concerns a test of Abraham’s loyalty to the one God, and at no point is there any doubt on Abraham’s part. What a contrast with Euripides’ Agamemnon. Nevertheless, loyalty (and a little fear for his position and even his life) will also be the deciding factor in Agamemnon’s final decision—loyalty in this case to the Greek cause, but viewed entirely from Agamemnon’s own and not a divine perspective.

That typifies Euripides through and through: human action does indeed take place within a divine order (and gods do occasionally appear in his plays, certainly at the end), but it is the inner drives of the characters themselves that prevail, even if these are sometimes brought about under social pressure. A striking example of this is the sudden shift in the attitude of the victim herself, Iphigenia, who at the end suddenly makes a decision—albeit out of a thirst for eternal glory— to voluntarily submitting herself to her sacrifice, and even encouraging her father in that direction.

To us, level-headed 21st-century readers, all this seems highly improbable, and the remarkable ending (with a kind of resurrection that will appeal greatly to later Christians) adds another element to this. Formally, too, there are some disturbing elements due to the soap opera quality and the convoluted pathos. But along with Medea, I consider this absolutely the strongest and most moving play by Euripides.

A bit more about the historical aspects of this play, and also an important side note, can be found in my History account on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/8595089476. show less

*4.5*

I was able to see this play in all its Rudall translation glory at the Getty Villa last night, and it was one of the most intriguing stories I'd seen in a long time.

While not technically reading, I'm glad I saw this performed. I think it gave it such life and I was much more invested than I think I would have been just reading it. In school we're often taught how the Greeks performed and had a whole culture of popular plays, and it didn't hit me until I was watching it that I could totally see it. The play was written beautifully, it was intriguing, it was dramatic and funny and sad all at the same time. I actually cried at the end– this was entertainment.

On the surface Iphigenia in Aulis is a side story of the Trojan War, show more focusing on individuals touched by the drama of Helen's capture. Deeper than that is a domestic embitterment of Iphigenia's parents, and even deeper still is a battle of either living for yourself or for your collective community– the classic conundrum of using your heart or your mind. The options are weighed equally, both scrutinized and debated and felt, and yet all is for null. By the end, fate holds the final decision.

The themes were poignant and heavy, and I think coming from an American perspective of individuality I appreciated them for making me think critically. The pains of each person are totally believable and make you torn for who to root for, or if you can even root for anyone with the injustices and reality they live in. In the end, it was beautifully simple and yet incredibly thought-provoking.

The only thing that made this less than 5 stars was that the monologues could get a bit tedious at times. Achilles' monologue after talking to Clytemnestra for the first time just kept repeating everything we already had just seen. But beyond that, I loved it and would see again in a heartbeat. It's making me want to pick up the rest of his plays and all the other dead Greek dudes, and that's saying something. show less

Near the end of Iphigenia at Aulis, Iphigenia has offered herself as a sacrificial victim:
"I have decided that I must die. And I shall die gloriously."(p 58) At this point the Chorus echoes her praises, but one wonders at the events that have led to this point and the event that will come to follow this moment as the ending turns the drama on its head.

The story told in this drama by Euripides is one that Athenians knew well. It was told by Aeschylus in his drama Agamemnon, the first play in the trilogy known as The Oresteia. Thus it would have had a tremendous impact on this audience and that impact has continued to this day. In Aeschylus's play the Chorus, made up of the old men of Argos, enters and tells the story of how the Trojan show more Prince Paris stole Helen, the wife of the Greek king Menelaus, leading to ten years of war between Greece and Troy. Then the Chorus recalls how Clytemnestra's husband Agamemnon (Menelaus' brother) sacrificed their daughter Iphigenia at Aulis to the god Artemis to obtain a favorable wind for the Greek fleet.

The play raises serious questions about the value of an individual life, and under what circumstances that life can be taken. Is the play's central event, the sacrifice of Iphigenia, a pointless waste, or a tragic necessity? Do the players, her father Agamemnon, Achilles, and Iphigenia herself, have a choice or is their fate determined by the gods (Artemis in particular)? Is the war that will be fought as a result of her sacrifice a just cause, or a petty quarrel over individuals and the fate of the beautiful Helen? Is her decision to offer herself an act of heroic patriotism? Acceptance of the inevitable or possibly a sign of madness? These questions and more linger in one's mind during and after reading this powerful drama.

In Euripides play Iphigenia invokes values important to the Greeks (p 58-9); including obedience to the gods, "Artemis has determined to take this my body--can I, a mere mortal, thwart a goddess's will?"; that the community is more important than the individual, the Greeks must prevail over the barbarians, that men are more valuable than women, and that death in defense of these values is glorious and brings everlasting fame, "Sacrifice me and destroy Troy. That will be my epitaph for eternity. That will be my glory,". That the glory that she seeks is one determined by men is an open question. The play also raises questions about the importance of the family as her mother, Clytemnestra and supposed suitor, Achilles, take on important roles.

The translation of this play by Nicholas Rudall is both lucid and poetic in an attempt to capture some of the music that Euripides was famous for. His tragic irony shines through the dialogue. The questions raised in this play are universal in the sense that we still are concerned over the nature of heroism and fidelity to one's community. Euripides won a prize for this drama even though he was no longer present in Athens and had died the previous year. I would recommend this to all who are interested in these questions and their presentation in one of the singular dramas of the Western tradition.n. show less

This is the most cynical of the Greek plays I've encountered so far. Agamemnon must choose between sacrificing his daughter, Iphigenia, to ensure fare winds for the fleet or face the wrath of his men who place martial honor far above familial affection. The story casts an unflattering light on the supposed heroes of the Trojan War; only Achilles comes through with any modicum of grace. The reader's only satisfaction is in knowing the fate awaiting Agamemnon some years hence, and wishing it could be visited on a few others. Killing a daughter for a war whose sole basis is satisfying outraged male pride would seem so foreign to modern sensibilities, but we only have to look at honor killings to see that those sensibilities can be show more wrong.

This is a prose translation by the director of The Court Theater using modern, colloquial English. I found it completely readable. However, I also tried a more traditional version I found online at The Internet Classics Archive and preferred it. show less

The Publisher Says: High King Agamemnon faces the most crushing dilemma of his life. Kill his beloved eldest daughter? Or forfeit victory in the Trojan War? A father’s secret plot clashes with a girl’s romantic dreams in this chilling classic play from Ancient Greece.

The most powerful dramatic script by EURIPIDES springs to life anew in a fresh adaptation by writer EDWARD EINHORN (Paradox in Oz, Fractions in Disguise, The Marriage of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein) with AGE OF BRONZE art by Eisner Award-winning ERIC SHANOWER (AGE OF BRONZE, Oz Graphic Novels, Little Nemo: Return to Slumberland).

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: A graphic-novel adaptation of the basic story of the Iliad and show more the Odyssey.

dramatis personae from age-of-bronze.com

I don't really know what else to say; if you haven't read those stories, or haven't seen the innumerable retellings in such media as exist then you've got one helluva learning curve ahead. This graphic version will, I suppose, do nicely to get you into the story. The idea that Agamemnon was required to kill his own child for a war against his sister-in-law's little bit on the side. It's a stupid reason to go to war, and the cost of it was staggering.

The art is, as you'd expect from Eric Shanower, convincing and technically accomplished. The story is adapted from Euripides by playwright Edward Einhorn. His success or failure is a matter of personal taste; I liked it fine.

Familiar or unfamiliar as you may be with the source material, it's a fantastic and worthy project, executed well, and solidly entertaining. show less

Iphigenia em Áulis é incrivelmente triste. Agamemnon pretende sacrificar a filha pelo orgulho de seu exército, Aquiles quer salvá-la apenas porque seu nome foi utilizado, e ela mesa decide se entregar ao sacrifício para morrer com dignidade, ao invés de ser arrastada para o altar.
Os eventos desse livro prenunciam toda a Orestéia, e atingem uma força poética qe só pode ser descrita como pungente.

Iphigenia at Aulis seems to have been constructed in a society in which it was ideal to put nation and family ahead of oneself. (Rather like in China, with their Confucianist ideals.) Euripides seemed to like this approach to duty, as the character who ends up with the ultimate compliment in the end - being whisked away by a goddess - portrays these ideals perfectly.

If we were to blame one character, that character could in turn point to another for the blame. We could blame the seer (off the top of my head, I remember his name started Ch- but not much more) for making up a malicious, treacherous method of 'appeasing the gods.' How do we know he didn't just get slighted by Agamemnon at some time and wants to give him hell now? We show more don't.

The seer would blame it on Agamemnon's own slighting of the gods. Clytemnestra would also blame it on her husband, judging from that marvelous monologue which she goes into about him having killed her first husband and child, and pleading with him not to kill another. He's not exactly on her good side (a point which is later most vehemently illustrated in the Oresteia by Aeschylus).

One might even blame Artemis, but one can't blame a god for being a god, so it's useless to point the finger at her. Humans seem to be insects anyway to these gods. What's one more virgin maid to them?

One can always blame somebody. We might as well blame Orestes. He was crying.

It's no use to look for blame. Anyway, she didn't end up being killed. (Or DID she? Always the clincher. Were they all lying just to appease Clytemnestra?)

Of course, if we're to go based upon "Iphigenia at Tauris," one of Euripides' other dramas, she definitely did get away. How quaint. Yay for deus ex machina. Confetti! show less