To any audience, modern or contemporary, it can be unequivocally stated that Euripidea's Medea is a striking and powerful play. The central character alone, in all her imposing qualities and emasculated portrayal, is enough to impress forcibly upon the spectator. Further to this is the very culminating event of the play itself, that is, the unspeakable act of child killing. As a modern audience, we certainly harbor a deep-rooted taboo concerning the subject, collectively sensing an immediate revulsion to the very notion of such an abhorrent act. This being such an a priori element of any moral code, it is certainly fair to conjecture that a contemporary audience would have felt this same horror at hearing the myth or watching the play. Here then, is where the chorus may step into the action in what could be seen as their primary function in Greek drama. They are present for the entirety of the action, giving responses to the events in the play. P, Easterling writes that, 'it is broadly true... that as choruses express their hope or fear, joy or sorrow for the characters, they offer possible models for the onlookers' emotional responses'.[1] In such an overtly shocking play as this, the chorus are present to act as guides along our journey with Medea, experiencing with us the merciless unfolding of the day spent outside of Jason's house. In this capacity, the chorus acts as essential witnesses to the action, both distancing from and involving themselves in the action where necessary. When making exchanges with other characters, they are actively involved in advancing the action of the play or enhancing a character's development, whilst as moments of reflection the odes 'draw the spectator away from the immediate concerns of the plot, while at the same time they inevitably have an effect on dramatic mood'.[2]
Having said this, to a modern audience perhaps either reading or watching a performance of Greek drama, the chorus may seem superfluous and even boring. But for the Greek dramatist, the use of a chorus provided a valuable tool in shaping known legend into his own vision and forming rounded characters from the mythic repertoire. As it is universally noted, the majority of extant of tragedy is drawn from a limited composite of well-known hereditary stories from the mythic tradition. Thus it is worthwhile bearing in mind that the ancient dramatists were working from this 'mythic megatext',[3] using themes that were open to be reworked and recycled repeatedly. The dramatic atmosphere of this tradition, where a fully knowledgeable audience was inherent in every performance, has important considerations regarding the contemporary reception of a play. In this climate the changes made or similarities retained by a tragedian would be noticed and appreciated for all the significances that they might have through an implicit understanding of audience participation.[4] So from a legend known to any and every Greek audience, Euripides had to form his own character of Medea, constructing her every facet in order for her to become a complete and rounded tragic character. When facing the challenging task of turning Medea into a fully-fledged tragic character, the chorus would have provided a significant aid to Euripides and had the potential to add to the development of the play in a number of ways.
In light of this, the choice of choral identity must have been an important consideration, as a 'way for the poet to articulate his approach to a legendary subject'.[5] Medea needs the chorus to be the young female Corinthians that they are in order to draw the appropriate reactions and sympathies from the audience; and scholars argue that 'female choruses permit a more intimate and open relationship between the chorus and the female protagonist.'[6] She has to be able to relate to them and win their sympathy whilst at the same time keeping a measured difference from them. As fellow women, she is able to draw them to her cause, yet as Corinthians she is able to highlight her singular vulnerability as a foreigner.[7] If we allow ourselves, as many scholars have, to read Medea's divide as a conflict between two engendered sides of her character, we can see how the chorus here represent and associate with her feminine side.[8] The way that Euripides has utilised the chorus may then have important consequences in deciding the winner of Medea's internal conflict. As could easily be guessed, the role of the chorus in tragedy is in no way limited to that of the spectator. As well as the various means available to the chorus in developing plot and action, they could also add dramatically to atmosphere through language, structure and staging. It then seems appropriate to apply a closer study to the text of Medea, and an analysis of the choral odes in the hope of exemplifying these and other features of choral functioning.
From the immediate entrance of the chorus, we see Euripides making use of implicit signals to the audience,[9] using language to focus attention and increase the early tension of the atmosphere. Following the Nurse's speech concerning her fears of Medea's anger, already drawing reference to Medea's desperate and angry utterances, the chorus' first line begins, 'I heard the voice, I heard the shouting' (c. 137). The following dialogue makes repeated comment of these offstage cries, and the language at this point is full of pity for this as yet unseen character. For them she is the 'sorrowful wife' (149), and the 'poor, rash creature' (150), whose husband is 'traitor to her bed' (207). We then see Medea making skilful use of her oratory skills, entreating them as fellow women and collecting sympathy for her plight. The extent of her persuasion is seen with the chorus immediately agreeing to be complicit in her schemes, and still further agreeing that her revenge on Jason is just (264). Continuing the language of sympathy, we can see straight away how Euripides hopes to use the chorus to gain similar reactions from the audience.
The first ode begins immediately following Medea's scene with Creon. We have seen her dazzling use of intellect, and her plans for revenge upon the royal household are quite explicit. Medea's own language here is strikingly bold, brutal and full of masculine practicality. Yet surprisingly the chorus is not swayed from her side, and their song is full of hope. They seem to find promise in Medea's plans, expressing thoughts that poets 'shall cease to harp on our faithlessness' (433) and that their name shall be overturned from foul to fair (430). The second strophe and antistrophe recount once more Medea's tale, both past and present. Again we are reminded of her plight and given no alternative object of sympathy. For the moment at least, she is still our 'unhappy lady' (443). So this ode acts to cement the chorus' complicity with Medea's plans. With these plans made and support gained, the plot is set in it's inevitable motion, with the outcome riding at a juxtaposition between the chorus' hopes and the audience's knowledge.
The second ode follows the heated conflict between Jason and Medea, and in it's musing provides a summary and reflection on previous action. Here the chorus sings to us of love, but dwelling rather more on the destructive powers of passion than on the pleasant side of romance. In no uncertain terms they beseech Aphrodite not to curse them with the affliction of strong passions, describing the goddess' weapon as 'poisoned with desire' (646). The second half of this ode moves on to the subject of exile, bemoaning it as a fate worse than death. The language here flirts with overt lamentation, filled with exclamatory phrases hailing exile as 'that helpless, wearisome life that is the most piteous of sorrows' (653). In a similar vein the antistrophe continues smoothly with a direct address to Medea. The chorus still laments for her, even going so far as to direct a curse against Jason (659), and, as it is perhaps suggested, the audience might too.
Here it seems appropriate to take a break from the action of our own, as we are about to break from Medea and a moment of reflection on the text so far may well be of use. To a passing observer, the actions of the chorus up until this point may seem to stand in sharp opposition to reality. As free citizen women it is certainly unlikely in a realistic situation that they would so readily agree to the destruction of the royal household; they would take action, or at the very least send warning. But in the theatrical realm of tragedy this is not their job, it is 'not to do and suffer, but to comment, sympathise, support or disapprove'.[10] Once more the previously discussed aspect of choral identity here comes into play, as 'the advantages of providing Medea with a sympathetic and understanding audience within the play far outweigh any loss of naturalism.'9 This becomes most relevant if we pick up the notion of an engendered conflict within the character of Medea. With this in mind we can see that Euripides has gone to great lengths to develop her feminine side in these opening scenes, through language, structure and action. In the constant references to her helpless plight, the less than complimentary portrayal of Jason and even in Medea's own dialogue, Euripides is laying the ground for her later self-division leading up to the pinnacle moment of the play. Although a character with distinctly male strength, ideals and qualities, it is still apparent that 'from the moment of her first appearance on stage, Medea's female side is in this play not taken for granted but carefully defined through the relationship that she creates with the chorus.'[11] This relationship is not only important in pushing Medea to the conclusion, and thus advancing the plot, but also in providing framework for the development of Medea's character and turning the legend into the tragedy that Euripides hoped to create. It is essential for Medea to develop this association with the chorus; we must correlate her with an ordinary housewife, as 'we need to believe in her maternal feeling in order to achieve the full depth of her tragic seriousness.'[12]
So now the action in the play progresses and the chorus' sympathy for Medea is moving swiftly toward being dislodged. It seems that their breaking point is found when the aspect that is 'such an intimate part of the self-interest of mothers' is called into question. The chorus repeatedly reminds Medea of this, and in the odes that follow a crescendo of dramatic language that mirrors their rising repulsion to her scheme is detectable.
As a somewhat unexpected start, the third ode begins with an idealistic description of Athens. To this purpose the Muses, Aphrodite, Love and Wisdom are evoked amidst flowery, poetic language where the sons of Erectheus walk 'with delicate step through the brilliant air'. (844) Such heightened manner of speech works to a wonderful definition of contrast when the second strophe is turned to Medea. Here the chorus asks how such a city will ever take in one such as her, and their lexicon has become notably bold and challenging. Whilst still entreating to Medea's best interests, a certain hostility towards her is unmistakable when reminded of her capacity for violence with phrases such as 'the killer of your children' (854) and, 'the unholy one' (855). Whilst the audience would obviously need no prompting on how abhorrent an act this is that Medea plans to commit, the language and reaction of the chorus here would certainly be casting a heavy atmosphere at this point.
With the fourth ode we are brought to what may be classified as a point of no return: Medea has sent her innocent children to Jason's new bride bearing poisoned gifts, and the fates of all concerned are all but sealed. In another break in the action, we can once more look forward to an intensifying of atmosphere with a further adaptation of language and pace. The ode opens with 'now no more have I hopes that the children will live' (974), setting the tone for the coming lament. They pity the children, bride and Jason in turn, lingering some time on the manner of demise in store for the bride. In the final antistrophe they turn their laments to Medea, calling upon that human aspect of her character that will become evident in her following monologue. Although similar in tone, this ode is distinct from the previous one, where the use of a series of questions and forceful vocabulary set a somewhat faster pace. Here the ode is slow and sorrowful; the pace is slowed by repetition and the language is morbid, frequently falling upon the subject of doom and fate. It seems that where before there was disbelief, the chorus now stands in reluctant resignation.
Finally, the fifth odes stands apart from all preceding ones, as it takes a major role in the action of the play. Strikingly, Euripides has chosen to use this ode to stage the murder of the children, interspersing it with their helpless cries. Unsurprisingly, there are a number of features in this ode that are of interest. Firstly, and most obviously, it could perhaps be seen as the chorus' finest moment in terms of dialogue. Following from previous odes, the language here has reached a pinnacle in violence and vehemence. They speak with an explicit tone of revulsion of 'that deadly woman', with 'bloody hands' who is 'slaying her own flesh and blood'. (1252-3) The use of contrast that we saw in the third ode comes back in a concentrated form, with short and fast oppositions between, for example, the illuminating rays of the sun and the deadly woman. Repetition is used here again, but this time it increases the pace of the ode and the force behind the words used. But asides from this, there are features of the ode and the following exchange with Jason which may additionally have added to the atmosphere of this climactic scene. Here Euripides twice plays with theatrical convention, engaging with the audience on a subtle level. When the chorus hear the children cry out, they ask, 'Should I enter the house?' (1273). According to tradition, the chorus could not have entered the stage building, as they were expected to perform at all times in the orchestra.[13] The threat to leave this area would most likely have impressed on the audience the horror of the scene that they were witnessing. Similarly, when Jason arrives in pursuit of Medea, he is told by the chorus leaders that he should open the doors, as the bodies of his murdered children lay behind them (1318). Such a scene has numerous precedents in Athenian tragedy,[14] and owing to this the contemporary audience were perhaps steeled in readiness for the doors to open and reveal what was said to lie behind. Instead of course, Medea suddenly and unexpectedly appears from the roof of the stage building, perhaps jolting the audience into greater focus and involvement.
Collectively, the choral odes have performed a variety of functions within the play. They have acted within their earlier identified role as a point of reference to the audience's desired reactions, but in their moments of summary and reflection the chorus often 'combines witnessing with trying to understand', and their guidance can be 'intellectual or even philosophical as well as emotional.'[15] Further to this we have seen the chorus working in the fifth ode as an integral carrier of the action.
In addition, there are some concluding notes on the intricate roles of the chorus within a larger structure that deserve mention. To focus once more on Medea's divided self, it seems that to consider the matter from the vantage point of other characters offers some insight. Medea uses her femininity as part of her manipulation, but it is as clear that her values are decidedly masculine and that her self image corresponds quite fittingly to that of a male epic hero. However, if we note the reactions and dialogue of the chorus and other characters, we are constantly presented with the view of Medea solely as a woman. The chorus makes repeated allusion to lust and jealousy, only ever attributing her need for revenge to Jason's sexual betrayal. This perhaps makes the triumph of Medea's masculine side and the subsequent murder of her children all the more inevitable. As a character who values so ferociously the heroic code, who will not on any accounts be left to mockery from enemies, Medea could not have resigned to this false assumption of her true nature. In this respect, the language of the chorus alone has throughout the play formed an integral part of the dramatic action.
Although the chorus is often largely disregarded by those staging modern productions of Greek tragedy, the points considered here make it clear that it holds a much larger role than is appreciated. The chorus of Medea embodies many complex functions as part of an elaborate dramatic structure. Rather than occupying the margins of a play, the chorus was able to enhance, and sometimes even influence, plot, atmosphere and characterization.
[1] P.E. Easterling 1997 pg163
[2] P. Burian 1997 pg199
[3] P. Burian 1997 pg190
[4] P. Burian 1997 pg194/5
[5] P. Burian 1997 pg198
[6] H. Foley 2003 pg19
[7] H. Foley 1989 pg74
[8] H. Foley 1989 pg73
[9] P.E. Easterling 1997 pg161
[10] P.E. Easterling 2003 pg188
[11] H. Foley1989 pg73
[12] P.E. Easterling 2003 pg198
[13] P.E. Easterling 1997 pg165
[14] P. Burian 1997 pg195
[15] P.E. Easterling 1997 pg164
