Today, I saw a production of Euripides' Medea at the Actor's Shakespeare Project in Cambridge. It was phenomenal, incredibly scary in the right places and overall an emotional punch in the face. Jason, of "and the Argonauts" fame, wants to leave his sorceress wife for a young princess Glauce, even though he has two sons already by Medea. He tries to make her believe that he is marrying to provide security, that their sons will have princes for brothers and they will always have a place to live in comfort. Medea, outraged, rails against the princess and her father, Creon, who banishes her from Corinth in fear that she will seek revenge. In the day allotted to her to gather means for herself and her boys to survive on, she plots and carries out the murders of Creon and Glauce, arranges for a safe home in Athens with the king Aegeus, and finally, cutting off her nose to spite her face, kills her children so that Jason will be cursed, heirless, and alone. She flies off in the Chariot of the Sun in cold, bloody, satiated triumph.
Again, I read Medea last year. There was an extremely passionate debate about whether or not Medea was justified, why Jason could cast her out, and who we sympathized with. (An account of this discussion can be found on Ms. Laudadio's blog.) At the time, I was frustrated by how angry everyone was getting. I remember distinctly that I almost cried, simply because everyone was yelling and no one could give quarter.
You see, Medea polarizes. You either believe Medea is justified in the murder of her enemies and her children, or you feel so deeply for Jason that it wipes out the injustices he deals out. I was very conflicted, but tended to be on the Jason side. I couldn't, and still can't, imagine the intense pain he feels when he screams out as his losses sink in. However, I recognized Medea's points. As a woman, she had no political sway. She was brushed aside by Jason with little care, and she was banished with no means to support herself. She had to think quickly. Let it be known that her temper was out of control, but she was also clever, even brilliant. Even if she could live as an exile, her boys would be in constant danger of death from Corinthians, who would want Jason's heirs to be from Glauce. To Medea, for whom humility and subservience is not an option, this is the only way.
Today, seeing it acted out, everything was flipped. I have never loathed Jason so much as when he entered and passionately kissed Medea. His justifications for marrying Glauce were pandering and inane. The actress who played Medea was also pregnant, adding another layer of outraged anguish to the story; not only was Jason abandoning the two sons he knew, he was cutting off his unborn child. Then, as the play went on, I found that I couldn't agree with Medea's choice.
The murders of Glauce and Creon were somewhat justified, but her children, two dear boys dressed in superhero pajamas, brought it a little too close to home for me. The perfectly acted trio of Chorus women tried desperately to persuade Medea that it was too much to kill her sons, that the gods hated those who slaughtered their kin, that hurting Jason wasn't worth the pain she would feel. Indeed, she backs down for a moment, but the next moment acts like a woman possessed. In the end, the deed is done. The children cry out for their Mother to spare them, and the Chorus women keen, swiftly breaking my heart. Jason is irreparably broken, and Medea is impassive, her children bloody at her feet. I feel that I understand Medea, but I cannot agree with her. She values her pride over everything else, and will not be defeated.
Catharsis is a really big thing in Greek tragedy. At the yearly festival of Dionysus, where plays were performed, everyone would watch these plays that told the stories of familiar myths. They would empathize. They would see themselves in the characters. They would weep. And, at the end of the festival, they would pick up and get on with their lives, despite and because of the stories they had witnessed.
Catharsis isn't an ancient thing, though; it's a human thing. We still do it. We watch Nascar for the crash, we see Paranormal Activity to feel the terror of being murdered in a safe and socially acceptable context. We are the murderer, the murdered, the slighted woman, the grieving father, all without leaving our seat. Catharsis is important for the stability of a society, particularly in Athens. It gets out the monsters within, blanches and purges, and lays you out to dry as the lessons slowly sink in.
Emotionally compromised, I took the T home, had dinner, and saw an improv show with my friends. Just like the Greeks, I needed a satyr play to calm me down and help me go from monster to human once more.
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