In the wake of her painstakingly argued monograph on Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, Αισχύλου Αγαμέμνων: Ζητήματα εσωτερικής Ποιητικής (2009), G. offers a second explanatory take on the Oresteia trilogy, focusing this time on the Libation Bearers without losing sight of the preceding play as paving the way to the heart-chilling showdown between Clytemnestra and Orestes at Argos under the stern eye of Electra. It should be pointed out that this is neither the ordinary interpretative companion to a Greek tragic play nor the chapter-by-chapter discussion and explication of fundamental aspects of an Attic drama. For G. opts for a personal approach to the many-sided problems and intricacies posed by Aeschylus’ Libation Bearers in attempting to conduct the closest and most rigorous scene-by-scene, even not infrequently line-by-line, reading of the play. To this end she never shies away from deploying numerous explanatory methods and techniques, ranging from textual criticism and translation theories to performance reception classifications and models, in order to tease a wide array of meticulously veiled meanings and connotations out of a dense ancient text.
The project of punctiliously and exhaustively elucidating every significant and memorable scene and lyrical passage of a demanding Greek play is laborious and challenging. G. is aware of the inherent perils in such a task and thus rightly chooses to plunge right in and not to waste valuable time and space in introductory ponderings over her all-inclusive methodology and overall planning. In a three-page opening remark she sets out the essentials of her research, pointing out the scholarly foundations of her analysis. In particular, she is quick to recognise that A. Garvie's magisterial commented edition of Libation Bearers (1986) has been her most useful port of call and constant point of reference in tackling textual issues and interpretative complexities; she also acknowledges the substantial helpfulness of the editions by M.L. West (19982) and A.H. Sommerstein (2009) in relation to various textual matters treated rather more cursorily in D.L. Page's Oxford edition (1972).
Given that the main bulk of the book consists of thorough discussions of the play's scenes and choral odes, starting with an in-depth examination of the opening act and ending with detailed deliberations of the moral convolutions pervading the closing section, I shall concentrate on points of special interest without shunning the occasional reference to the larger picture. From the beginning of this volume G. offers a sensitive treatment of the Chorus’ conflicting feelings about their obligation to convey libations to the tomb of Agamemnon on behalf of Clytemnestra; in fact, she fixes our attention on the black-robed maidens’ inability to overcome their repugnance to this unenviable task. This welter of contrasting sentiments about the dubious moral significance of a distinctive ritual action reflects with unexampled force the ruling motif of the trilogy: the harrowing recollection of the horrible crimes that have been committed in the past cries for immediate and merciless retribution, about which there could be no hesitation or compunction. G. is right to suggest that the Chorus’ struggle between vengeance and obedience is set forth beautifully and powerfully in Ted Hughes's rather free rendition of the opening of the Parodos (22–3): ‘We come at the command of Clytemnestra, To mourn King Agamemnon. | But our grief makes it easy’. This is one of the many times that G. summons the authority of acclaimed translators and stylists in an effort not only to shed revealing light on the complex recesses of the human heart, but also to bring into prominent relief the great richness and variety of the stage action.
Furthermore, there is little doubt that a significant portion of the tragedy is lyrical and descriptive; for beyond the confusion and turmoil of past events the extensive kommos between the Chorus and Agamemnon's distraught siblings, together with the ensuing stasima, which are chiefly animated but not at all befuddled by the storm and stress of the action, allows us to see clearly into the great problems of the play. G., as well as pursuing an exhaustive investigation of the elusiveness and elaborate delicacy of the Aeschylean phraseology, handles successfully the multiplicity of epithets and images that are introduced, on the right occasion, with commanding effect, and their intensity and perplexity reveal the strength and resoluteness of the onstage characters, who are nonetheless touched with compassion when they think of their parent's misfortune.
This exactness of detail is not, however, followed with plodding exaggeration by G.; her interpretative scrupulosity is confined to those fine complexities of expression that serve to bring into the open the protagonists’ craving for vengeance. By both carefully applying specific theoretical strands of J.L. Austin's concept of illocutionary acts and systematically pointing out the apparent mismatch between the sinister obscurity of the Chorus’ language and the unfailing consistency of their stage movements and gestures, G. shows special penetration in her view of those remarkable self-referential hints and suggestions permeating the choral crisis-feelings. When we consider more closely the functions of this Chorus, it will be seen that it imparts a new moral to the legend; in this way the fervid enthusiasm of the maids reinforced by a mysterious solemnity of tone, an illocutionary act bordering on a performative utterance soon to be realised onstage, not only prefigures the later portion of the tragedy, but also embraces in a single whole various conflicting interests and goals that have to be pursued in the same spot on a single day.
Further than this, as G. is aware, in plays of this kind, although the general issue of the action is familiar, the skilful management of the plot and the ferociousness of the contrasting passions can obscure any guesswork about the exact manner of the conclusion, thereby heightening the excitement of suspense. G.'s response to the challenge of this heavily suspenseful text is restrained and illuminating. She avoids both fake modernistic interpretative ventures and self-indulgent naive explications; above all, she avoids excessive irony. Take for example the famous scene with Orestes and Pylades, which has become a byword of human fragility in the face of impenetrable destiny. As Orestes begins to falter and to second-guess his decision to kill his mother after her breast-bearing, G. argues, the resulting images of doubt and regret reassert their hold on the imagination of the audience; in fact, the realisation of the chasm between the actor's male gender and his female role brings out with emphatic force more questions, all of them in plangent discord with the overt moral dilemmas of the pre-Aeschylean mythical stories. The probing reaction to this play that G. prescribes for the audience is to stay to some degree emotionally uninvolved with the characters in order to appreciate in full the self-referentiality of the action. Much as one would stand unconvinced by G.'s metatheatrical, almost at times ‘Brechtian’, take on a complex scene, there is something to be said about this stimulating exposition of conflicting motives and purposes laid bare for all to see through the startling interposition of Pylades as a male companion par excellence in stark contrast with the accentuated femininity of the Clytemnestra actor.
The detailed discussion is followed by a brief but helpful chapter summing up the central topics, and the book concludes with a useful English summary and an index of ancient Greek passages, which constitutes a serviceable guide to the many thought-provoking arguments contained in this meticulously documented work.
