Transgendering Clytemnestra: Jennifer Rae Mcdermott
Transgendering Clytemnestra: Jennifer Rae Mcdermott
Transgendering Clytemnestra: Jennifer Rae Mcdermott
Many Greek tragedies have mysteriously evaded the controlling influence of time; they are read today
with as much admiration and emotion as they would have inspired in their first audiences. Works immor-
tal, they rekindle in modern readers the passionate fires of ancient times and peoples. Two names still
common on modern lips are those of the great poets Aeschylus and Homer. While Aeschylus penned
tragedies for the theatre in the early fifth century BC, Homer, in the eighth century BC, composed epics
of Greek culture that encompassed in their scope “material for [many] tragedies.”1 The relationship
between these forms of narrative is evidenced in the shared myth of Agamemnon’s murder by Clytemnestra
and Aegisthus in both Homer’s epic poem Odyssey and Aeschylus’ tragedy Oresteia. In comparing the
different angles with which these poets choose to treat the same tale, certain discrepancies are imme-
diately apparent regarding the role, treatment, and function of Clytemnestra.
I will argue that the differences in Clytemnestra’s characterization in these two works are predom-
inantly related to gender: whereas in Aeschylus’ work she is cast as manly, Homer casts her as womanly.
In Oresteia, she commands the play; in Odyssey, she remains but a shadowy figure on the outskirts of
the story. This is evidenced, first in the immediacy and manner of her portrayal, second, in her domi-
nance or subservience to men, and third, in her degree of responsibility for Agamemnon’s murder.
Furthermore, these gender related distinctions correspond to Clytemnestra’s function in each text;
Aeschylus creates Clytemnestra as a tragically human heroine, whereas Homer uses her, coupled to
Aegisthus, to foil the central situation of Penelope and the Suitors. Let us consider Clytemnestra’s predom-
inance and characterization first in Aeschylus’ trilogy and then in Homer’s Odyssey.
1 Aristotle, Poetics in Critical Theory Since Plat,. Hazard Adams, ed. (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971), 23:17.
In Oresteia, “the play belongs to Clytemnestra” and it is in her “mouth that Aeschylus puts the great-
est poetry he ever wrote.”2 Clytemnestra dominates in Agamemnon as well, and remains highly preva-
lent in the following two plays of the trilogy. She exists in Oresteia as a charged character: rounded,
complex, intelligent, powerful and entirely human, though tragically fitted and flawed for revenge.
Aeschylus presents Clytemnestra as a heroine in her own right, awarding her a voice of her own to convince
us of her case, to plead with our judgment and, with arguable success, to sway us to her favour. She
delivers a considerable number of lines - second only to the chorus in Agamemnon - and her words are
laden with strength, cunning and pride. In addition, Aeschylus frames her portrayal through the criti-
cisms and remarks of multiple perspectives. The Watchman, her son, her daughter, the Furies, and others,
all give diverse, though consistently strong, portrayals of her character. In this web of voices, Clytemnestra
is not presented favourably. She is, for instance, called a “venomous snake” by her son.3 Nevertheless,
she is presented as articulate, aggressive, compelling and dynamic. Aeschylus has designed Clytemnestra
to overstep her womanly boundaries through her words, as is exemplified when the chorus says:
“Woman you speak with sense like a prudent man.”4
2 Edith Hamilton, “Hearts with Strings of Steel,” Three Greek Plays (New York: W. W, Norton & Company, 1965) 154.
3 Aeschylus, Oresteia, trans. David R. Slavitt. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1997) 221.
4 Aeschylus, Agamemnon, trans. Louis MacNeice, Stages of Drama, ed. Carl H. Klaus, Miriam Gilbert and Bradford Field (New
Apart from this disdainful one-sided sketch of Clytemnestra’s character, the only other viewpoint
is that of Nestor. His portrayal is more sympathetic; he removes her accountability, perceiving her as
“entangled” in the “doom of the Gods,” and not personally evil, as her nature was honest.9 Nevertheless,
Nestor remarks that once Clytemnestra was in the arms of Aegisthus, “she was as willing as he was.”10
The culmination of these two narrow perspectives on Clytemnestra paints her as a fallible, pliable woman,
who appears only marginally in the narrative of Agamemnon to show evil capabilities of an unfaithful
woman.
The characterizations of Clytemnestra in Aeschylus and Homer illustrate that the two poets chose
to present her relationship and relative dominance or subservience to men in entirely opposite ways. In
Oresteia, Clytemnestra holds the power in her relationships, domineering Aegisthus and Agamemnon.
She is in the traditional male role: in control. The reverse is true in Homer’s work. Here Aegisthus is
the dominant figure. He seduces Clytemnestra, she cannot help but submit to his will, as she is in the
traditionally passive woman’s role.
The dichotomy created in the person of Clytemnestra is also evident in her dominance or subservience
to men. Aeschylus manifests dialogue exchanges between Clytemnestra and men where she is the
winner of the debate. One such instance follows Agamemnon’s return, where Clytemnestra greets him,
exultant and full of false praise, with cloths for him to walk on. She approaches him, calling to her women
to spread the foot cloths, “her speech […] is loaded with fulsome complications and rich ironic under-
tones.”11 Agamemnon chides her for an over-lengthy welcome and refuses to walk on the “embroidered
stuffs – stuff for gossip,” thundering the rebuke: do not by woman’s methods make me effeminate […]
nor strewing my path with cloths make it invidious […] I tell you honour me as a man.”12 After reason-
ing and debating, Clytemnestra finally commands Agamemnon to give way and let her have mastery.13
He submits to her desire, only to be lead into the palace and to his slaughter.
Similarly, Clytemnestra rules Aegisthus. Aegisthus appears only after the murder as a buffed-up
braggart, full of threats for the chorus and of little consequence. He is repeatedly baited by the chorus
who call him a ‘woman’, a man who could not strike a man himself, but left it to Clytemnestra like a
11 Bernard Knox, «Clytemnestra Triumphant,» The Norton Book of Classical Literature, ed. Bernard Knox (New York: W. W.
coward.14 The chorus scolds him for letting Clytemnestra be the strong one, chiding him as weak and
girlish. This insult carries into Libation Bearers where Orestes also calls the ruling couple “a pair of
women – for he is a woman as surely as she.”15 Aegisthus is chastised for adopting the passive role and
willingly being lead by Clytemnestra, which further reinforces her masculine role. This is evidenced
where she quickly cools him from the insults of the chorus, ordering him to stop the quarrel. Her language
is authorative but clam: “No, my dearest do not so […] start no more.”16 Clytemnestra, as depicted in
these and other instances in Oresteia, has power and control over the men in her life, again stepping beyond
her traditional female sphere.
Once again, Homer interprets Clytemnestra’s role as the reverse of the above. In Homer, she is the
subservient one to be ruled as a women. Clytemnestra never appears directly in the text and little insight
is given into her relationships except through the brief portrait of Nestor. Originally, in his account,
Clytemnestra is situated closely along the same lines as Penelope when faced with suitors. Clytemnestra
is a beautiful wife left absent while her husband was away at war. She is approached by courtiers like
Aegisthus, who “kept talking to Agamemnon’s wife and trying to charm her.”17 At first, Clytemnestra,
like Penelope, “would not consent to the act of shame, for her own nature was honest.” 18 Unlike Penelope,
her nature does not have much fight in it; she must submit to the greater will of her seducer.19 Here
Homer shows Clytemnestra as the passive one, the one who succumbs to the sexual pressure around
her.
This reading of the myth lends itself to Homer, as it presents a strong foil for Penelope, a constant
reminder of the path Penelope decides not to take. Even in the after life, the parallel between them is
remarked: “Odysseus […] you won yourself a wife endowed with great virtue […] not so the daughter
of Tyndareos [who] fashioned her evil deeds.”20 Clearly, Homer emphasizes Clytemnestra primarily in
connection to her adultery and sexual betrayal, rather than on her crime as conspirer to Agamemnon murder.
She is seen foremost as subservient to Aegisthus, as a “sluttish women,” sexually betraying her husband,
the weaker of the pair.
The relative strengths and weaknesses of Aegisthus’ and Clytemnestra’s wills in the two texts are
directly related to how each poet chose to interpret Clytemnestra’s degree of responsibility for
13 Aeschylus, Agamemnon, 1052-4.
14 Aeschylus, Agamemnon, 1858, 1872.
15 Aeschylus, Oresteia, 286-7.
19 Ibid.
In Agamemnon, Aeschylus takes care to establish Agamemnon’s own violent crimes prior to his
murder. The play leaves open the interpretation that Clytemnestra is not an ultimately evil character,
tending to excuse her on the grounds of motivation. Aeschylus vividly recounts the slaughter of
Iphigenia upon the altar, “the pathos and horror of that sacrifice […] Aeschylus intends us to realize what
the girls mother must have felt.”21 After this brutal act, it can be deemed that Clytemnestra’s implaca-
ble hatred was justified. Hamilton noted that “we are never allowed to forget her anguish for grief for
her daughter.”22 It is not impossible to imagine how that hatred kindled for ten years until his return,
and how it hatched her plot for murder.
Beyond the insight Aeschylus proffers into Clytemnestra’s motivation, he also depicts the murder
solely as her doing. She greets Agamemnon with veiled words, lures him into his bath and to his death.
Then, with the help of Aegisthus, she ends Cassandra’s life as well. She triumphantly steps out to face
the chorus, announcing the murder: “I stand here where I struck, above my victims; so I contrived it –
this I will not deny.”23 Clytemnestra explains how she trapped him under a robe, “inextricable like a
net for fishes,” and stabbed him, fiendishly rejoicing in the spurts of his blood as in “God’s gift of rain
for the crops.”24 The deed was hers. She propounds: “Mine is the glory.”25
Her glory was Aegisthus’ shame. It is the reason that the men admonish Aegisthus so heavily for
merely standing on the side while Clytemnestra deals the blows: she is the manly one, the villain, the
one strong enough to cut down the king. Appropriately, she is the one too, who suffers the most for the
crime. Remorse floods her, as is literally seen in her suckling the dragon in the dream in Libation Bearers.
This guilt is then swiftly followed with her deathblow, dealt by the hand of her son. However, even in
death, she is not one to be passive. She returns as a ghost in Eumenides to rouse the Furies to their charge,
spurring them to follow her son, rack him with sorrows, and avenge her death. Thus, in Aeschylus’
21 Hamilton, 154.
22 Hamilton, 155.
23 Aeschylus, Agamemnon, 1592-3.
Oresteia, Clytemnestra is the murder, her hand stained with blood, though she remains thoroughly human
in her motivation and remorse. She is presented as a man who can bring about the vengeance due.
The method of Agamemnon’s murder is completely different in Odyssey. Homer illustrates his
manner of death in greatest detail through the eyes of the prophetic Old Man of the Sea. Proteus describes
the murder as Aegisthus’ exploit. In the lengthy passage, Clytemnestra is never mentioned once. He
explains the snare as Aegisthus’ “treacherous stratagem.”26 Aegisthus posts a sentry for Agamemnon’s
arrival, assembles twenty great fighting men, and ambushes the king.27 They “led him in all unsuspi-
cious of death, feasted him and killed him feasting, as one strikes down an ox at his manger.”28 From
this perspective, Clytemnestra is involved only by default, passively acquiescing to Aegisthus, the man.
In Agamemnon’s own report of his death, he claims that Aegisthus “work[ed] out [his] death and
destruction” exactly as Proteus told, though inserting “with the help of [his] sluttish wife.”29 He attrib-
utes the death of Cassandra to Clytemnestra, but his own to the sword of Aegisthus. Agamemnon blames
Clytemnestra nonetheless for her conspiratory role as an accomplice, linking the evil done to him with
her womanhood. Homer manipulates the myth to mirror Penelope with Clytemnestra; both are women
who must fend off (or succumb to) predatory suitor in the absence of their husbands. Since this is his
aim, he also parallels the suitors with Aegisthus. They are the villains who steal wives and conspire against
the lord of the manor, “while eating up substance of his house.”30 Further, the ambush plan that
Aegisthus sets is reused by the suitors where Antinoöns schemes to trap Telemachus, requesting, “a fast
ship and twenty companions, so that I can watch his return and lie in wait for him.”31 Homer thus knits
all the fibers of Agamemnon’s murder myth, uniting it as a foil to the central plot.
In reviewing the overall presentation of Clytemnestra in both Aeschylus’ Oresteia and Homer’s
Odyssey, the transgendering of her character in each representation becomes evident. Where in
Aeschylus’ works, she is a character in her own right, dominating the scene, ruling her relationships,
orchestrating and committing murder. She is man-like and will exact revenge. On the contrary, in Homer’s
Odyssey, she is denied a voice, remaining a marginal figure that lives in the shadow of dominant
Aegisthus, his silent conspirator and passive assistant. She is evil and woman-like, succumbing to the
pressure of a suitor too strong for her feeble female self. Clytemnestra’s role and treatment in these
legendary texts is directly related to the underlying purpose of the tale. In Aeschylus, she is the tragic
heroine we sympathize with, though still cannot condone. However in Odyssey she is merely a literary
device used to reinforce Penelope’s goodness and further the major narrative thrust. Both in the Odyssey
or Oresteia, whether silent or not, Clytemnestra was a complicated queen.
8 HIRUNDO 2002
Bibliography
Ancient Works:
Aristotle, Poetics, in Critical Theory Since Plato, ed. Hazard Adams (New York : Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1971).
Aeschylus, Agamemnon, trans. Louis MacNeice, in Stages of Drama, eds. Carl H. Klaus, Miriam
Gilbert and Bradford Field (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1991).
Aeschylus, Oresteia, trans. David R. Slavitt (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1997).
Homer, Odyssey, trans. Richard Lattimore (New York: Perennial Classics, 1999).
Modern Works:
Hamilton, Edith, “Hearts with Strings of Steel” Three Greek Plays (New York: W. W, Norton &
Company, 1965).
Knox, Bernard, “Clytemnestra Triumphant” The Norton Book of Classical Literature (New York: W.
W. Norton & Knox Company, 1993).