Analyse the theme of hereditary guilt in the play Agamemnon

The Agamemnon, Choephori, and Eumenides were the last tragedies composed by Aeschylus, and were produced in 458 [B.C.], two years before his death, along with the satiric drama Proteus. The tetra-logy as a whole was called the Oresteia, a name which, whether due to Aeschylus or not, appears to have been in use at any rate as early as the time of Aristophanes. The contents of the Proteus are unknown, and its connection with the preceding tragedies obscure; but it probably dealt with the fortunes of Menelaus, the brother of Agamemnon, and related the story of his detention on the coast of Egypt, and his rescue by the help of Proteus, the sea-god.

The subject of the trilogy is one of those dark stories of hereditary guilt, of which the Septem (Seven Against Thebes) [supplies another] example. Atreus had sown the first seeds of woe by his murder of the children of Thyestes; and Agamemnon, later on, had sacrificed the life of his daughter, Iphigenia to his own ambition. The results are unfolded in the Oresteia. Clytemnestra, assisted by her paramour Aegisthus, murders Agamemnon, partly to conceal her adultery, partly in revenge for the loss of her daughter. The murderers are slain in turn by Orestes, who thus incurs the guilt of matricide. For this offense he is exposed to the vengeance of the Furies, who typify the workings of remorse, and by whom he is hunted from place to place, until at length he reaches Athens, where he finds release from his sufferings.

the depth of moral significance which it acquires in the hands of Aeschylus was essentially his own creation. Under his treatment it becomes one of the most solemn and impressive pictures of guilt and retribution which was ever painted by any poet. One thought inspires the whole trilogy from first to last — the thought of the crimes which have been committed in the past and of the blood which has been shed and which still cries out unceasingly for vengeance. This recollection seems to haunt the very souls of the actors in the successive tragedies. It hangs like a dark cloud over the minds of the Theban elders, damps their joy at the news of the victory, and fills them with gloomy forebodings. It forms the constant burden of those odes in the Choephori, where the chorus justifies the approaching act of retribution. It is never absent from the lips of the Furies, as they pursue Orestes with righteous chastisement.

The introduction of Cassandra, which gives occasion to the finest scene in the play, answers a double object. As an example of the insolence of Agamemnon, in bringing home his captive mistress before the very eyes of his wife, it lessens out sympathy with his misfortune, and fixes our attention on his guilt, in accordance with the moral purpose of the trilogy. At the same time the inspired utterances of the prophetess serve to recall to the minds of the audience those dark crimes of Atreus which were the primal source of the present evil. Another noticeable feature in the Agamemnon is the humorous scene which follows the murder. The sententious ineptitude of the old men, in the presence of the crisis, is one of those passages of semi-comedy with which Aeschylus occasionally relieves the tension of the feelings; and it may be compared with the speeches of the porter which precede the discovery of the murder in Macbeth, or with the bantering dialogue of the gentlemen after the death-scene in the Maid’s Tragedy.

Throughout this play the interest is transferred from persons to principles. The human element becomes of less importance, and Orestes and his fortunes sink into the background. Their place is taken by the great gods of Olympus and of Tartarus, who represent opposing ordinances. Law and Justice, typified by the Furies, demand the punishment of the matricide; while Equity, personified by Apollo and Zeus, pleads for the release of the avenger of crime. It is between these mighty combatants that the battle is waged. Guilt is set against guilt, duty against duty, and no decision seems possible. At length Mercy, under the person of Athene, decides in favor of Orestes.

How does Aeschylus build intense dramatic suspense around Agamemnon’s home coming in the play Agamemnon?

Agamemnon is treated as the masterpiece of Aeschylus. In it the action takes place before the palace of Agamemnon in Argos at the time of his victorious return from the Trojan War. Besides, the grand theme of the play based on sin, murder, punishment and a fatalistic conception of human life’, the intense dramatic suspense around Agamemnon’s homecoming occupies an important theme of the play. In order to create this dramatic suspense, Aeschylus imposes his creative and dramatic genius and we see how he was interested to represent this dramatic suspense. Although this dramatic suspense operates no serious purpose for the main action of the play it enhances our dramatic interest to a great extent. The suspense is created before Agamemnon’s arrival by the speeches of Watchman, Elders of Argos, Herald and so on. There is hope and also forbidding in the speeches.

The dramatic suspense is firstly created by the Watchman who waits in the dead of night and suddenly sends out a cry of joy as the signal blazes forth announcing the imminent return of Agamemnon. The Watchman strikes the first note of approaching calamity by guarded hints and allusion to Clytemnestra’s adulterous relation with Aegisthus, Agamemnon’s mortal enemy.

Dramatic suspense lies among the mixed feeling in the expression of Chorus. The Chorus’ emphasis is stronger on foreboding. It is not only Clytemnestra who arouses their fear – they trust Agamemnon to find a way to deal with her when he returns, but they know that the King himself is burdened with guilt. They recount in detail how Agamemnon, inheriting the family curses from Atreus; found himself faced with a fearful dilemma, and made the wrong choice to sacrifice his daughter. However, Aeschylus and Sophocles contain excellent dramatic motivation. Oracles, divinities and sooth Sayers as well as the chorus and main actors were frequently used in the foreshadowing. Foreshadowing (giving intimation or hints of action yet to come,) which helped to achieve both suspense and dramatic irony was employed.

The Watchman of this play feels sway in his condition for the suspense of situation. The Watchman describes that sleep’s enemy ‘fear’ stands beside him to forbid his eyes one instance closing. As the beacon shines out, before the Watchman the suspenseful circumstance further deepens:

“0 welcome beacon, kindling night to glorious day,
Welcome! You’ll set them dancing in every street in Argos
When they hear your message. Ho there! Hullo! Call
Clytemnestra!”

 The Watchman descends and another dramatic suspense starts by a cry of triumph from Clytemnestra and is echoed by other women. The hurried coming of a messenger followed by the attendants, going in various directions, and carrying jars and bowls with oil and incense for sacrifice increase the suspenseful situation. There is suspense in the circumlocutory speeches of the chorus and their conversations and interrogation with Clytemnestra. Clytemnestra creates confusion and suspicion by her speeches when she herself says that the victors would avoid being vanquished in their turn. Clytemnestra says that only, let no lust of unlawful plunder tempt the soldiers’ hearts with wealth, to their own harm.

Clytemnestra finishes her words by saying that these are a woman’s words while the chorus says that your words are like a man’s. After the finishing of chorus’ speech suspense arises when the sound of women voices excitedly begins the shout and cheer. One or two Elders go out, and return immediately to report the following remarks as made severally by various members of the chorus;

“Since the beacon’s nears was heard
Rumour flies through every street.
Ought we to believe a word?
Is it some inspired deceit?”

All doubts that remain about the truth of the beacon message are now dispelled by the arrival of the herald from the Trojan expeditionary force. This herald concludes the precious suspense but loads immense suspense in his speeches. The herald announces that Agamemnon, homeward bound has been separated from the rest of his fleet He salutes, in touching words, his country and her gods, and the palace of Agamemnon, which now shines its best to welcome its monarch, who comes like dawn out of darkness. The herald’s speech brings dramatic suspense to the audience because they know the mischievous revengeful attitude of Clytemnestra. As the time of Agamemnon’s reaching shortens, our suspense begins to enhance in every moment. When Agamemnon reaches Argos all the suspense are dissolved and he is heinously butchered by his wife.

Agamemnon’s arrival in the palace in confirmed by the Chorus’ welcome to him as it says:

“…you have come victorious home;
Now form our open hearts we wish you well.”

The opening scene of Aeschylus’s “Agamemnon” prepares the audience psychologically for the events to come later. It introduces Clytemnestra, the most dominant character of the play, as a female having male traits. The watchman, through his representation of the Argive people, informs us of the unrest inside and outside the Argos palace at the prolonged absence of Agamemnon. Considering everything, it may be said that the opening scene is not a necessary, rather a preparatory part of the play. Thus, Aeschylus in his tragedy “Agamemnon” creates dramatic suspense around Agamemnon’s homecoming and it enhances the dramatic brilliance of the tragedy to a great extent.

Character of Clytemnestra in the play "Agamemnon"

Agamemnon is the first play in a trilogy of tragedies by Aeschylus entitled the Oresteia. Even though Agamemnon gets a shout-out in the play’s title, Clytemnestra may well be its most interesting character. By interesting, we don’t mean likable – after all, technically speaking, she is a liar, a two-timer, and a murderer. But maybe that’s just part of her charm. We’d better explain. The first thing we learn about Clytemnestra is from the Watchman in the opening scene of the play. He isn’t her biggest fan, though he doesn’t give us any explanation why. Instead, he makes a vague remark about how the household “is not managed for the best as it was before” . But what does that mean, exactly? Did Clytemnestra stiff him on his overtime pay or something?

We might get a hint of what the Watchman means later on in the play, when the Chorus tells the Herald that Clytemnestra’s public statements about how much she loves her husband aren’t exactly honest. Does the Chorus say this because it knows about her affair with Aegisthus? We aren’t told. If this was common knowledge in Argos, it is possible that this is what the Watchman is referring to – though, it isn’t clear how Clytemnestra’s extra-marital love life would necessarily make her a bad manager of the household.

So, yes, Clytemnestra is having an affair while Agamemnon is off fighting at Troy. Ten years might seem like a long time to wait for one’s husband; of course, Penelope, the heroine of Homer’s Odyssey waited twenty years for her husband to come back. Everyone thinks she’s exceptional, though. But what about the fact that Agamemnon had his daughter Iphigenia sacrificed on the way to Troy, just to get the goddess Artemis to send the fleet some favorable winds? We can see how that might have made Clytemnestra think a little less of her husband, and maybe this is why she turned elsewhere for romance.

When he shows up at the end of the play, however, Aegisthus seems like a bit of a dweeb. Does this just mean Clytemnestra has bad taste in men? Or do you think Clytemnestra deliberately sought out Aegisthus knowing he held a grudge against Agamemnon because of the crime of Agamemnon’s father Atreus? If so, that would mean she had been planning revenge against Agamemnon for a long time and was just looking for an accomplice. Unfortunately, the play doesn’t give us any firm information about these matters.

What the play does show us is that Clytemnestra is one accomplished conspirator and murderer. First of all, there is the deception she carries off, by playing the role of loving wife in front of the Herald, the Chorus, and Agamemnon when he shows up. Even though the Chorus tells the Herald not to believe every word she says, it’s pretty clear they don’t suspect Clytemnestra of being a murderer. The proof of this comes in the Chorus members’ reaction to Cassandra’s prophecies, when they go way off track by assuming she is referring to a man who will kill Agamemnon. Frankly, though, who can blame them? We don’t think anybody could have predicted the truly psychotic scene when Clytemnestra reveals herself standing over the bodies of Agamemnon and Cassandra, and ecstatically describes how Agamemnon’s blood landed on her like rain on a farmer’s field. Yikes.

We see some more of Clytemnestra’s psychotic side in the debate with the Chorus that follows, but at the very end of the play she has calmed down and taken on a different role. First, she prevents Aegisthus from fighting the Chorus; then, she leads him inside and tells him that they will be joint rulers in Argos. Joint rulers? Who is she kidding? With her air of confident authority, it’s hard to doubt that Clytemnestra will be wearing the crown in their relationship.