Ancient Greek and Roman emotions have become a field of increasing academic interest over the last few decades. We can particularly refer to such formative scholars in the field as David Konstan, Douglas Cairns, Robert Kaster, and more recently Angelos Chaniotis – though the cast list goes much wider.Footnote 1 Early interest in emotions prevalent across classical genres, such as shame, anger, pity, envy/jealousy, and erôs (erotic love, desire),Footnote 2 has more recently expanded to include more peripheral emotions such as forgiveness, remorse, and disgust.Footnote 3 A number of studies, too, have focused on specific genres.Footnote 4 This research has been conducted against a background of much wider interest in emotion studies in fields as diverse as neuroscience, cognitive psychology, anthropology, medicine, philosophy, jurisprudence, history, literary studies, and the performing arts. Many publications by Classicists have demonstrated awareness of this wider body of research, and some of them directly incorporate theoretical findings – particularly from cognitive psychology, but from other disciplines too – into exploration of classical texts and other media.Footnote 5
The articles in this collection aim to ‘cut the cake’ in a different way, by using techniques and methodologies developed in recent work on the classical emotions (on which more below) to explore various instantiations of one classical figure. This is not the first time that the emotions of one figure have been compared across texts, but it is the first on such a scale.Footnote 6 Medea has been chosen as the object of focus for several reasons. First, she appears in a number of Greek and Roman literary texts, so presentations of her in different periods and genres can, should the reader wish, be considered side by side.Footnote 7 Second, she is a fictional character, and thus removed from the sorts of factional (hagiographic, denunciatory, satirical) presentations to which a historical figure might be subjected, while offering the endless opportunities for reinvention common in classical mythopoeia.Footnote 8 Finally, in almost all her instantiations, Medea is presented as acting under the influence of, or against the impulse of, strong emotions – and, thanks to her fictive nature, often quite different emotions in different texts.
Indeed, her emotions – especially in Euripides’ and Seneca's Medea tragedies – have already been an area of scholarly enquiry, not least by authors in this collection. In Euripides’ play, some argue that she is motivated by heroic pride – a ‘masculine’ hero like Achilles (in the Iliad) or Ajax (in Sophocles’ Ajax).Footnote 9 Alternatively her murderous actions are ascribed to anger, as Jason's appalling ingratitude and betrayal overwhelm her, leading her to enact a terrible revenge.Footnote 10 Sexual jealousy has also been posited as a motivation, either alongside anger or as a specific type of it for which we (unlike the Greeks) have a label.Footnote 11 In Seneca's Medea, anger, too, has traditionally been explored as the overwhelming emotional motivation.Footnote 12
This collection of articles aims to go beyond these studies to explore Medea's emotions, and occasionally those she stimulates in others, more broadly. Four articles (Douglas Cairns and William Allan on Euripides, Paulo Lima and Chiara Battistella on Seneca) look at the two tragedies that have been repeatedly studied – reflecting their importance in the list of classical Medeas – but they take new and, unusually, non-monolithic approaches to her emotional psychology. These are joined by studies on two quite different texts: one (my own) on Apollonius’ Argonautica Book 3, looking at the start rather than the end of her relationship with Jason; and one (Andreas Michalopoulos’) on Ovid Heroides 12, depicting a much more self-reflective character than elsewhere.Footnote 13 The articles appear in order of the works’ composition, and Battistella's article compares Seneca with Euripides, allowing a kind of ring composition within the collection. The inclusion of articles on the Argonautica and Heroides allows the reader to consider Medea's emotions in chronological order instead: from the day she meets Jason, through the progression of her relationship (as recalled on the eve of the filicides), to that day itself. This is not to suggest a linear or steady development – none such exists; but it does serve to demonstrate both the strong inter-relationship and differences between these works’ portrayal of her. All versions of the myth present (and sometimes present from) Medea's point of view, giving insights into her emotional and psychological state, which provide the motivation(s) for her actions. Jason is generally portrayed as having a utilitarian view of the relationship: all authors leave it ambiguous as to whether Medea's erotic love for him was ever genuinely returned.
From the moment she falls in love with Jason, Medea experiences a maelstrom of emotions, which she seems to repeat in each episode of their relationship.Footnote 14 In the Argonautica, I show this triggered by love, which gives rise to three other emotions: fear at the danger to Jason (and herself), grief at his impending death, and shame at loving an enemy of her father. The clash of motivations these emotions impel leads to a helpless despair and paralysis. In the Ovidian letter, Michalopoulos also finds love, fear, and grief in Medea's reminiscence of meeting Jason; guilt, sadness, and remorse at the crimes she has committed; sorrow, fear, wounded pride, and rage at his remarriage; and spite and anticipated joy in her intended revenge. In Euripides’ Medea, Cairns shows Medea's joy at imagining the ways in which her enemies might die, her grief and pity at the impending death of her children, and the anger and jealousy which drive the filicides. In the same play, Allan also finds jealousy, anger, grief, and pity, as well as love and gratitude. In Seneca, Lima lists ‘family love, erotic love, anger, rage, and resentment’, but concentrates less on enumerating and describing her emotions than on their ‘monstrosity’: the obscene levels to which they are taken in motivating her monstrous revenge. Battistella, by contrast, focuses on just one emotion: joy – an emotion Cairns and Michalopoulos briefly mention, though one not usually associated with Medea. Battistella shows that, in Seneca, unlike Euripides and Ovid, her joy is not merely anticipatory, but builds through each filicide to their triumphant aftermath, becoming progressively more ‘monstrous’ (and thus connecting to Lima's argument).
Medea's emotions in these texts are explored using a variety of methodological approaches. Such tools have been proliferating in classical emotion studies over the last fifteen years.Footnote 15 They include approaches based on ancient philosophy, particularly Aristotle (who saw emotions as a natural, and ethically perfectly proper, concomitant of social interaction and literary engagement) and Stoicism (with its more nuanced approach), but also thinkers such as Plato, Cicero, Quintilian, Longinus, and Galen.Footnote 16 The philosophical subdisciplines of rhetoric, poetics, and aesthetics are particularly relevant.Footnote 17 Classicists working on emotions have also become more open to utilising theoretical approaches from other disciplines. These include script theory, cognitive psychology, trauma theory, metaphor studies, politeness studies, pragmatics, and discursive psychology.Footnote 18 This is not, of course, to say that any theoretical approach could be applied to any text, but (depending on the text) one or more theoretical approaches might provide additional insights to a more traditional linguistic study.
Of the articles in this collection, Cairns's contribution is particularly rich in reference to emotional theories, both ancient (primarily Aristotelian, but also Platonic and Stoic) and modern. He sees Euripides’ Medea not just as a play rich in emotions, but in ‘emotions about emotions’ (emphasis in original). Characters read the emotions of other characters, not just by what they say, but by how they say it: words used, facial expressions, body language. They experience emotions at other characters’ emotions, as does the audience. Emotions are motivations, explains Cairns, and Medea is adept at manipulating the emotions of others by ‘fostering and exploiting…trust’. Allan also makes use of an Aristotelian lens, specifically his view (contra Kant) that virtues are dispositions both to act and to feel emotions correctly.Footnote 19 Battistella, by contrast, uses Seneca's Stoic theory of morally uneducated and educated passions – specifically uoluptas and gaudium – to analyse his Medea's thought and actions, showing her ‘successfully (mis)applying Stoic principles’. Forsaking ancient emotion theories, my article uses a modern one, ‘script’ theory, to explore the genesis and effects of Medea's emotions: their causes and their symptoms – psychological, physiological, and behavioural – as well as metaphors used to describe these. Lima, meanwhile, develops what he describes as an existential approach to Seneca's tragedy, to point out the deficiencies of previous psychoanalytic readings; he argues that Medea's attempts to identify her human ‘self’ in her social-religious ties lead, paradoxically, to her ending as a mythical ‘irruption of the monstrous’ into that society. The construction of the self is also a concern for ancient letter writers, and Michalopoulos shows that Ovid's Medea is no exception.
Returning to my earlier observation that Medea is fictional, what these texts show are not simply aspects of Medea herself, but examples of the very different ways in which authors can choose to present fictional and particularly mythological characters, who are interpreted and reinterpreted through the demands of different genres (transgressive in tragedy, egregious in epic, exploratory in epistle), and over centuries as the styles of authors and demands of audiences change. Emotion is, still, an underexplored lens through which to view characters, but an aspect that ancient authors are always alive to: what emotions are felt; how they manifest in the mind and body; how they affect characters’ relations with those around them; attempts made – or pointedly not made – to regulate intensity of emotional experiences and impelled actions; and the extent to which emotional experiences are presented as those of every(wo)man (the girl who falls in love with the wrong man, and is terrified of how her father will react), or monstrous perversions of such (how not to react when your husband leaves you for a younger woman).
What emerges here, then, is not one Medea but many: Medeas who will benefit from a variety of different tools – theoretical, literary, or philosophical approaches – through which to interpret their individual manifestations and representations. The studies in this collection showcase a range of approaches that can help a reader make sense of such diverse portrayals of characters, particularly fictional characters, in literary texts.