Volume 19, 2007 - Brown University

From Monster to Mother: The Tragic
Death of Clytaemnestra
Laura Brown-Lavoie
Throughout much of the first two plays of Aeschylus’ tragic trilogy the
Oresteia, the vengeful queen Clytaemnestra is characterized as a monster. She is
repeatedly portrayed like a beast of prey or demon incarnate, with little effort on
the part of the playwright to justify her demeanor. It is not as if her fury is
unwarranted; her husband sacrifices her child, fights for ten years in a war caused
by her sister, and returns with a conquered mistress. She kills him to avenge her
daughter, and is, in return, murdered by her son. Clearly it would not be hard,
as an author, to temper her evil characterization with some pity, yet Aeschylus
chooses not to do so until moments before her death. The effect is breathtakingly
tragic. For nearly two full plays, the audience is lulled into believing the representation
of Clytaemnestra as an inhuman savage. When they are reminded by
her final interactions with her son that she is actually a mother—one who has
suffered immensely, and lost all that was dear to her—her death becomes emotionally
complicated. With this reversal of characterization, Aeschylus brings
incredible tragic thrust to the climax of his trilogy, and lends credence to Robert
Fagles’ assertion in the introduction of his translation: “The play is named for
Agamemnon, but the tragic hero is the queen” (Fagles, 1966: 46).
From her initial entrance at the beginning of Agamemnon, Clytaemnestra is
established as inappropriate according to gender norms. She is assertive, powerful,
persuasive, and manipulative, none of which are characteristics traditionally
befitting a queen. At first, many of the references to her are based on this distasteful
rejection of gender roles. After her triumphant speech about Greece’s
victory in Troy, the leader of the chorus concisely lays out this paradox, remarking:
“Spoken like a man, my lady . . . ” (Ag. 355). But it is not until the arrival of
Agamemnon and his war prize, the prophetic Cassandra, that the dehumanization
of Clytaemnestra truly begins.
Cassandra is the ideal voice for characterizing the queen. She is established
as a vessel of truth—Apollo’s curse has made her a prophet. The events she
depicts will come to pass, so the audience is unlikely to doubt whether her
description of people is accurate. Through Cassandra, Aeschylus is brutal. In the
throes of prophecy, she bemoans Agamemnon’s fate, saying that he is “lost to
that detestable hellhound who pricks her ears and fawns and her tongue draws
out her glittering words of welcome” (Ag. 1237-39). She continues a few lines
later:
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