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The old songs will have to change.
No more hymns to our faithlessness and deceit.
Apollo, god of song, lord of the lyre,
never passed on the flame of poetry to us.
But if we had that voice, what songs
we'd sing of men's failings, and their blame. History is made by women, just as much as men.
Medea has been betrayed. Her husband, Jason, has left her for a younger woman. He has forgotten all the promises he made and is even prepared to abandon their two sons. But Medea is not a woman to accept such disrespect passively. Strong-willed and fiercely intelligent, she turns her formidable energies to working out the greatest, and most horrifying, revenge possible.
Euripides' devastating tragedy is shockingly modern in the sharp psychological exploration of the characters and the gripping interactions between them. Award-winning poet Robin Robertson has captured both the vitality of Euripides' drama and the beauty of his phrasing, reinvigorating this masterpiece for the twenty-first century.
The old songs will have to change.
No more hymns to our faithlessness and deceit.
Apollo, god of song, lord of the lyre,
never passed on the flame of poetry to us.
But if we had that voice, what songs
we'd sing of men's failings, and their blame. History is made by women, just as much as men.
Medea has been betrayed. Her husband, Jason, has left her for a younger woman. He has forgotten all the promises he made and is even prepared to abandon their two sons. But Medea is not a woman to accept such disrespect passively. Strong-willed and fiercely intelligent, she turns her formidable energies to working out the greatest, and most horrifying, revenge possible.
Euripides' devastating tragedy is shockingly modern in the sharp psychological exploration of the characters and the gripping interactions between them. Award-winning poet Robin Robertson has captured both the vitality of Euripides' drama and the beauty of his phrasing, reinvigorating this masterpiece for the twenty-first century.
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The old songs will have to change.
No more hymns to our faithlessness and deceit.
Apollo, god of song, lord of the lyre,
never passed on the flame of poetry to us.
But if we had that voice, what songs
we'd sing of men's failings, and their blame. History is made by women, just as much as men.
Medea has been betrayed. Her husband, Jason, has left her for a younger woman. He has forgotten all the promises he made and is even prepared to abandon their two sons. But Medea is not a woman to accept such disrespect passively. Strong-willed and fiercely intelligent, she turns her formidable energies to working out the greatest, and most horrifying, revenge possible.
Euripides' devastating tragedy is shockingly modern in the sharp psychological exploration of the characters and the gripping interactions between them. Award-winning poet Robin Robertson has captured both the vitality of Euripides' drama and the beauty of his phrasing, reinvigorating this masterpiece for the twenty-first century.
| ISBN-13: | 9781416592259 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Free Press |
| Publication date: | 10/06/2009 |
| Pages: | 87 |
| Sales rank: | 481,928 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.00(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.50(d) |
Outside the house of Jason and Medea in Corinth.
Enter Nurse from the house.
NURSE If only it had never happened like this.
If the Argo hadn't opened its sails and flown to Colchis through the Clashing Rocks.
If the pines were still standing in the glens of Mount Pelion,
not cut and turned to oars for the Argonauts.
If Pelias the king hadn't sent those heroes off to do his bidding, to cross the sea and steal the Golden Fleece.
It would all be different. Not as it is.
My dear mistress, Medea,
would never have met their leader, Jason;
never fallen for him, head over heels,
never left a life behind to sail away with him.
Not tricked Pelias's daughters into killing their own father. And not fled here, at last,
to Corinth, far from family and home.
In the beginning everything was fine.
Though a foreigner like me, Medea was welcomed with her husband and her children —
and was happy in her new life, obedient to Jason in everything he said and did.
In marriage that's the safest way, I think,
to follow your husband, and accept his rules.
But now this house is full of hate;
its timbers are rotten with it. Jason has gone from her and the children, leaving them for a royal bed. He's marrying this young thing,
the princess, daughter of Creon, the Corinthian king.
My poor Medea — dishonored — reminds him of his oaths, invokes the gods of justice and truth to witness what he's done, after all she's done for him. To no avail.
Since she heard of his deceit she's refused all food, and comfort;
she stays in her room and cries the days away,
won't lift her head for anyone,
won't raise her eyes from the ground.
Unmoved by words, by anything around her,
she's deaf as a stone or a wave in the sea.
Sometimes she turns to look away,
to call out for her father, her country and her home: all abandoned and betrayed for a man who now abandons her,
betrays her honor and her love.
She has learned the hard way what it is to be an exile,
to have given up everything.
She loathes to have her children near,
and cannot bear to look at them. I am afraid some plan is already forming in her mind.
She has a temper on her that is vile, and violent,
and she will never rest.
I know her well enough to be sure.
I fear she will creep into the palace,
stand at that double bed,
and drive a deep blade into each of them.
She is deadly, let me tell you,
and none who spark her rage will walk away.
Enter Tutor, escorting the two sons of Jason and Medea.
But look, here they are now, her boys,
hot from their games. They don't understand their mother's grief; why should they?
Their minds are still too young for pain.
TUTOR Old nurse, what are you doing,
standing out here talking to yourself?
Why aren't you with your mistress?
NURSE Old teacher, tired slave to Jason's children,
don't you know that if the dice fall badly for our masters they fall the same for us?
I feel Medea's troubles as my own,
and have come out here to share them with the earth and air.
TUTOR So she is still crying?
NURSE Still crying? I envy your innocence.
This is only the start.
Her grief has just begun.
TUTOR The poor ignorant woman — if a servant may speak so of a lady. She doesn't know the news.
NURSE What news, old man? Don't keep it to yourself.
TUTOR Nothing. I shouldn't have said...
NURSE Please, I beg you as a fellow servant.
I can keep a secret if I must.
TUTOR Well, I was down by the sacred spring at Peirene where the old men play at draughts and I happened to hear something
- though I was pretending not to listen —
something about King Creon banishing these children,
and their mother, from Corinth.
I don't know if it's true. I hope not.
NURSE Jason would never let that happen.
His quarrel is with Medea, not with them.
TUTOR Old loves are dropped when new ones come along.
Jason's love no longer lives here.
NURSE We are done for, then.
We were weathering a squall and now it turns to storm.
TUTOR You must say nothing to your mistress,
this is not the time.
NURSE Sweet children, do you hear what kind of man your father is? He is my master,
so I cannot curse him, but such disloyalty to those he ought to love...He is guilty...
TUTOR What mortal man is not guilty?
A new woman in the bed leaves no room for anyone else.
He has forgotten everything,
including his boys.
Has it just dawned on you that we're each of us human:
we put ourselves above all others.
NURSE Go into the house, children, everything will be fine.
To Tutor.
And you — keep them as far away from their mother as you can; she's distraught. I've seen the way she looks at them, like a wild animal. I'm afraid she might do something.
She will not let this anger cool until she's brought it down on the head of an enemy.
And I pray it is an enemy she turns on,
not those she loves...
MEDEA (within)
Oh gods, I am so wretched, so miserable.
Please, let me die!
NURSE Just as I said, children, your mother's heart's upset;
she's stirring the pot of her darkest temper.
Quickly, into the house, and don't go near her -
don't let her see you. She is fierce, my dears,
fierce with hate. Quick, inside!
Exit Tutor and children into the house.
The storm is upon us.
There is greater passion to come: lightning flashes to burst these black clouds of grief and bring down hellish weather.
What will she do, this proud unbiddable woman,
under the sting of this lash?
MEDEA (within)
Do I not suffer? Have I not been wronged?
Can I not weep? Damned children of a damned mother,
I hope you die with your father,
and his whole house falls around you all!
NURSE Oh gods! What part have they in their father's guilt?
Why do you hate them? Poor children,
I'm so frightened you might come to harm.
She explains to the children.
Royal minds are different to ours, and dangerous.
Being used to giving orders rather than taking them,
they can become outraged — and that rage is slow to cool.
Ordinary life is much better — where everyone's equal.
I hope to grow old just as I am:
lowly, unremarkable and safe.
Moderation is a lovely word and we should live by it;
it's good for our souls.
Excessiveness brings mortals no advantage. All it does is draw more ruin on us when the gods are wild.
Enter a group of Corinthian women as Chorus.
CHORUS We have heard the cry of the unhappy woman of Colchis.
Tell us, nurse. Is she still no calmer?
Even through the double doors of the inner room we could hear her keening. It hurts our heart to hear such sounds of sorrow from within a house of friends.
NURSE This house is dead. It is no longer a home.
The husband rolls in a royal bed, while the wife,
my mistress, stays in her room,
beyond the soothing words of any friend,
wasting her life away.
MEDEA (within)
Oh, let a flash of lightning pierce this skull!
What use is there in living?
Give me the freedom of death,
so I can leave behind this life I hate.
CHORUS Did you hear that, Zeus? Sun and Earth,
did you hear that creature's dreadful cry?
You are rash, woman: it is just as wrong for you to desire the bed of death as it is for Jason to thresh in his bed of desire.
Why hurry death?
The marriage is over. Let it rest.
Let Zeus advance your cause, and save your heart.
MEDEA (within)
Oh mighty Themis, vengeful Artemis,
look down on my suffering and these broken marriage bonds, the oaths that bound me to my husband now all forgotten.
I will see him and his bright young bride ground down to nothing,
and their whole house with them.
Was it for this I fled my native country, Father,
leaving you in my wake fishing up pieces of my broken brother?
NURSE You hear? She calls on the gods, on Themis,
daughter of Zeus, goddess of Justice and guardian of all promises made by men.
Such anger is not easily appeased.
CHORUS We wish she would come out and listen to us,
meet us face to face.
She might feel her fury lessen amongst friends.
Fetch her from the house, nurse,
and tell her we support her —
but be quick, before she hurts those inside.
Her passion grows so strong the air around her burns.
NURSE I'll try, of course, but I doubt I'll persuade her.
When any of us approach you can see her hackles rise — like a lioness when you get between her and her cubs.
If only we could charm her with music;
but those old composers were such fools:
they wrote melodies only for the happy times —
festivals, grand banquets, celebrations.
None of them thought to make a music for real life,
music that would salve our wounds and soothe our bitter griefs. Didn't they see these wounds and griefs destroy us,
and a music that healed such sorrow would be precious?
What is the point of music and song at a feast?
People are happy when they're full.
We need a tune when there's no food there to eat.
Exit Nurse into the house.
CHORUS We hear her weeping, her litany of accusations against her husband, the betrayer of her bed.
She calls again to Themis, goddess of oaths,
who brought her here to Greece over the dark saltwater of the Black Sea,
to the locks and keys of the Hellespont,
a threshold few may cross.
Enter Medea and the Nurse from the house.
MEDEA Women of Corinth, I have come out here to show you who I am.
I will not be judged — by anyone — as proud.
I know many who are vain, it's true, indoors or out;
but there are others that hide themselves away,
and then people say they emulate the gods.
Whether you go out in public, or retire in private,
you get a reputation either way.
There is no justice in the eyes of men,
they judge by what they see, not what they know.
It is hardest for foreigners like me to be accepted
— always working, always trying to fit in —
so I have no time for those who think themselves above the rules, or better than the others.
This blow, when it came, came from nowhere,
knocking me down,
crushing my faith in all that's good and kind.
I am lost, and foundering. The joy has gone from my life,
and I see no reason, now, to carry on.
My husband, my companion, the man I thought I knew so well — in whom I'd invested everything — has revealed himself to be the most contemptible of men.
Of all living, sentient creatures,
women are the most unfortunate.
We must save and save to raise a dowry;
then the man that agrees to marry us becomes master of our bodies:
a second burden greater than the first.
Loss and insult: that is all we have.
Everything hangs on his character:
is the master good or bad?
We can refuse him nothing, but if we divorce we are seen as somehow soiled, as damaged goods.
Innocents and strangers, we enter our husbands' houses,
with all these new laws and customs to deal with;
we need to use our intuition to teach us how best to please our man.
If we do well in all our duties, and don't let him ever think he's trapped in the marriage,
everything's fine. If not, it's death in life.
When a man's bored with what he has at home he goes elsewhere: finds someone else to amuse him.
The woman must wait, for she is allowed to look at one face only: his.
Men tell us that we are lucky to live safe at home while they take up their spears and go to war.
Well, that's a lie. I'd sooner stand behind a shield three times in battle than give birth once.
But yours is a different story. This is your city.
Your fathers are here;
you have the pleasures of life,
the company of friends.
I am alone in Corinth, an outsider in a strange city far from my family —
my only company a husband who took me as plunder from some foreign campaign and now dishonors me. I have no mother, no brother,
no kin to turn to, to shelter me from shame.
So I shall ask this one favor from you.
If I can think of any way, any plan,
to make my husband pay for all this hurt,
will you keep my secret?
A woman is too timid, too weak, they say, for war
— would faint at the sight of battle-steel —
but when she is injured in love,
when her bed has been defiled, she'll have your blood.
CHORUS We promise. You have every right to punish your husband, Medea,
and every reason to grieve.
Enter Creon.
But here is Creon, the king.
Here, perhaps, with some proclamation.
CREON So, Medea, sour-faced, glowering with rage against your husband: hear this.
I order you now to leave this land and go into exile,
with immediate effect. Take your children with you.
I make the law and execute it, and will stay until I've seen you off Corinthian soil.
MEDEA No! This is the end of everything.
Fleets of enemies sail against me;
I see only rocks and no safe haven.
After so much abuse, one question, Creon:
why are you sending me away?
CREON I'm afraid of you, to put it bluntly;
afraid that you will do some harm to my daughter.
I have many reasons, and they all add up.
You are a clever woman. It's known that you are skilled in evil arts. You are wounded,
smarting at the loss of your husband from your bed.
And now I hear that you've been making threats against the bride, her father, and the man she is to marry.
I will let nothing happen, and so will guard against it.
It's better to harden my heart against you now than have you break it later.
MEDEA My reputation, yet again! It goes before me like a curse.
My father should never have allowed me an education,
never raised me to be intelligent.
Those who are out of the ordinary attract jealousy and bitterness.
If you try to bring new wisdom to fools,
the fools are furious;
if your mind matches the minds of the city's intellectuals then they're threatened.
But you, Creon, you are afraid.
Why is that?
What damage can I do?
I am no insurrectionist,
no insurgent against the state.
You've done nothing to me;
only given your daughter's hand away in marriage.
It's my husband I hate.
You've acted with propriety and good sense,
within the law, and I don't resent your happiness.
Make the marriage; I wish all of you good luck.
But let me stay. Although I have been wronged,
I will keep my peace. I yield to you as king.
You have won and I have lost.
CREON Conciliatory words, indeed.
But still I dread to think what evil cooks within your heart.
The softness of these words makes me trust them less.
A hot-tempered woman — or man, for that matter —
is easier to stand against than a clever one that keeps her own counsel.
No, I am decided.
You are hereby banished, and must leave now.
No more delay, and no more speeches.
I know you are our enemy and I will have no enemy in our midst.
Medea kneels before him.Copyright © 2008 by RobinRobertson
This teaching guide for Medea includes:
1. Background of Euripides Medea
2. Table of Contents for Euripides Medea
3. Discussion questions for each section of Euripides Medea
4. Supplementary exercises
Background of Euripides Medea
Parts of the Greek Theater
Skene: located directly in back of the stage, and decorated as a palace, temple, or other building, depending on the needs of the play. It had at least one set of doors, and actors could make entrances and exits through them. There was also access to the roof of the skene from behind, so that actors playing gods and other characters could appear on the roof, if needed.
Orchestra: a circular space where the chorus would dance, sing, and interact with actors on stage near the skene.
Theatron: part of hillside overlooking the orchestra, which is where spectators sat.
Parodos: the paths by which the chorus and some actors (such as those representing messengers or people returning from abroad) made their entrances and exits. The audience also used them to enter and exit the theater before and after the performance.
Greek Theater Festival
Euripides presented Medea along with Philoctetes, Dictys, and the satyr play, Theristai, as his offerings in the playwright competition at the Dionysian Festival in 431 BC. The Dionysian Festival traditionally featured playwrights competing against each other in two categories, tragedy and comedy. Over the course of several days, each playwright would present three plays and a satyr (mixture of tragedy and comedy typically offered as comic relief) and a winner would be crowned in tragedy and comedy. Tragic plays often employed characters and stories from ancient myths as the basis of their stories, while comedies employed contemporary figures. Thus, Euripides used the ancient tale of Jason and Medea as the basis for his Medea. A chorus and three actors using differing costumes and masks act out the plays; because their faces were obscured, actors used exaggerated movements and tones of voice to connote emotions and tone to their audience. With Medea, Euripides took third prize behind winner, Euphorion, son of Aeschylus, and Sophocles, who took 2nd place.
Background on the author, Euripides
Little is known about the life of Euripides. He is the youngest of the three well-known writers of Greek tragedy, which include Aeschylus and Sophocles. He lived and wrote at a time when Athens was considered the cultural and political center of Greece. Euripides produced ninety-two plays for the Dionysian festival, and won first prize four times. He is credited with introducing an extensive prologue and the deus ex machina (the appearance of a person, god, or thing that resolves a situation) to the structure of plays. Scholars attribute him with the typifying elements of melodrama, specifically sudden reversals, miraculous rescues, startling discoveries, and contrived endings.
The Mythical Origins of Jason and Medea
Prior to their arrival in Corinth, Jason and Medea's relationship begins when Jason arrives with his crew on the ship, Argo, in Colchis seeking the Golden Fleece. However, King Aeëtes, the possessor of the fleece, wants to retain it and challenges Jason to a series of seemingly impossible tasks before he can claim it. Medea, King Aeëtes’s daughter, falls in love with Jason and extracts his promise to marry her if she helps him with his tasks. Using her skills as a sorceress, Medea successfully aids Jason in completing the tasks, but when King Aeëtes fails to hand over the Golden Fleece, Jason and Medea steal it. King Aeëtes takes chase and Medea distracts her father by killing her brother and scattering his body parts behind the Argo, forcing her father to retrieve his body in order to give his son a proper burial.
Jason returns with Medea to Iolcus to retrieve his rightful place on the throne from his uncle, Pelias, who had stolen the throne by killing King Aeson, Jason's father. Pelias is reluctant to give up the throne and Medea convinces his two daughters to kill and dismember their father by telling them she would restore his youth through sorcery. Instead, Pelias dies horribly and the inhabitants of Iolcus drive Medea and Jason out of the city. Jason and Medea marry, have two children and eventually settle into Corinth; Euripides' Medea takes place after their settlement there.
Using this well-known myth as a starting point, Euripides allows us to see Jason and Medea as realistic, complex characters with comprehensible emotional depth and range. Rather than keep them as larger than life, static figures trapped in the ancient past, Euripides introduces the possibility that Jason and Medea remain wholly contemporary and reflective of human imperfections for not only the audience who watched the first rendering of the play but for all who have seen this play since then. His balanced treatment of both Jason and Medea, and his exploration of women and individual psychology, continues to evoke debate and questions centuries later.
Robin Robertson’s Translation
Robin Robertson translates an incredibly accessible, fast-paced, and stirring version of Euripides’ well-known masterpiece. Robertson aims to bring the lyrical and poetic elements of Medea to the fore as this play was meant to be acted or spoken aloud on a stage rather than read as straight texts. His translations succeed at being colloquial without being reductive of Euripides’ evocative language. With an introduction that effectively grounds us in the tradition and meaning of Greek tragedy, Robertson demonstrates Medea’s continued relevance to modern readers and invites us to consider its enduring themes of gender conflict, racial ‘otherness,’ and human frailty. Students and general readers alike will find Medea a compelling book to read and deconstruct.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Medea
Glossary
Discussion Questions
Introduction
1. Robertson introduces us to the mythical tale of Medea and Jason prior to the opening of Euripides’ Medea. What do we know about Jason’s and Medea’s lives before they settle in Corinth? What is the nature of their relationship? How would you characterize these two people?
2. Knowing that the first audience to view Medea would know Jason and Medea’s mythical story, what do you think Euripides hoped to reveal to them in his version of their story? Like a director of a film about real persons, what challenges do you think Euripides faces in telling his version of Medea and Jason’s tale?
3. According to Robertson, what elements in Medea would Euripides’ Greek audience find most important? Do you suspect a modern audience would find these elements as important? Why or why not?
4. What does Robertson identify as the defining features of a Greek Tragedy?
5. It’s been noted that the chorus for Euripides’ Medea were women as opposed to a chorus of male and female citizens. How does that impact your understanding the play? Why do you think Euripides employs a chorus of women only?
Medea
1. Describe the world that the Nurse establishes in her opening monologue. What type of tone and mood does she set for the audience?
2. Compare and contrast the Nurse’s and the Tutor’s perspectives on the events unfolding between Medea and Jason. Whose perspective do you find most understandable and why? What lessons do they suggest we learn from Medea’s current plight?
3. In light of Medea and Jason’s past, what ironies do the Nurse and Tutor reveal about their current predicament?
4. What is your impression of the Chorus? What purpose do they serve? Whose voice do you believe they reflect? Why?
5. Describe the picture that Medea paints of Greek women’s lives. What problems does she identify? What does Medea recommend for women who seek to secure or negotiate a good life? Do you believe her portrait continues to hold true today? Why or why not?
6. What parallels does Medea draw between her life as a woman and a foreigner? Beyond her status as a non-citizen, what claims does she make about her essential difference in nature from the women in Corinth?
7. Why do you believe Creon banished Medea? How is Medea able to temporarily sway Creon? At this juncture in the play, are Creon’s fears of Medea justifiable? Why do you believe his fears do not extend to Jason as well?
8. After Creon departs, Medea says “this is now a contest of courage.” What does Medea mean by this remark? How has her assessment of her situation shifted from the opening scenes?
9. Upon hearing Medea begin to plot against her enemies, the chorus appears to collude with her. How do they justify Medea’s anger? What vision of justice do they offer for Medea and Greek women in general? Do you agree with their sentiments? Why or why not?
10. Compare and contrast Medea and Jason’s arguments about the demise of their marriage. Whose perspective do you find most convincing? Why?
11. Who is Aegeus and how does he impact the story? What does the curious oracle given to him mean? Why do you think Euripides introduces him into the mix?
12. How does Medea exact revenge on those she labels her enemies? How is the method or means Medea employs to destroy them an apt reflection of her conceptions of their shortcomings?
13. What reasons does Medea offer for killing her children? How does she justify what she calls “the most unutterable of crimes”? Do you believe she was genuinely conflicted? Why or why not?
14. When do you believe Medea devised her plan? Do you think Medea could have been dissuaded from her plan? If yes, how and by whom? If no, why not?
15. When Jason sees Medea with his dead children, he says, “How could I have not seen the beast inside of you? I am sane at last, but I was mad before.” How is this remark a contradiction to the arguments he offered in his earlier confrontation with Medea? What does it suggest about his understanding of the nature of their relationship? Do you believe his assessment is accurate? Why or why not?
16. Medea says, “Passion is the root of all our sin, and all our suffering.” What does she mean by this phrase? To what extent is Medea wholly possessed by her passion as she claims or do you see evidence of her use of reason throughout the play? Provide examples from the text to support your argument.
17. At the start of the play, Medea called for justice for Jason’s betrayal, do you believe she found justice? Why or why not?
18. What is the chorus’s final rationale for why events unfolded as they did between Jason and Medea when they claim: “Zeus has all things in his power and has the power to confound…they turn the bright air black, and turn our dreams back to nightmare.”? Does their suggestion rob Jason and Medea of responsibility? Do you see evidence of this outlook in our time? Provide examples.
19. What elements of the play do you believe resonate with a modern audience? What did you find relatable?
20. Do you believe the play imparts an overarching moral or lesson? If yes, what is it? If no, why not?
Supplementary Exercises
1. Divide readers of the play into groups. Have each group take on the role of Medea’s chorus and create a new choral speech to be delivered either in place of or in addition to one of the existing choral speeches in the play. Group members should determine the following:
a. What is the purpose of your chorus?
b. What sentiments would you like your chorus to reflect?
c. Where in the play would you place your choral speech?
After each group delivers their respective speeches, discuss the following:
a. What were the challenges you faced in determining the purpose and content of your speech?
b. What similarities or differences emerge amongst the choral groups?
c. If you replaced a speech, why did you remove the existing speech? What does your speech do for the play that the original did not?
d. If you added a speech, why did you add the speech? What did the speech provide to the play?
2. Divide readers of the play into groups with two leads who will perform Jason and Medea’s confrontation scene in a variety of settings. Assign one group to one of these settings:
· A talk show set (such as Oprah, Dr. Phil, Tyra, or Jerry Springer)
· A marriage counselor’s office
· A private bedroom
· On a busy sidewalk with curious onlookers
Each group should work with their respective Jason and Medea leads to develop the look and feel of the scene befitting their assigned setting. Perform the confrontation scene and discuss the following questions:
a. How does the setting impact your reaction to the speech between Jason and Medea?
b. How does setting alter the dynamics between the couple?
c. Does your sympathy change for each character based on the setting? Why or why not?
d. How is the tone or mood altered by each setting?
e. What insights or perspectives did you gain?
3. Writing a missing scene:
a. Who are the characters in the scene?
b. Where would the scene fall in the overall structure of the play?
c. What purpose does the scene serve?
d. What is the content of the scene? What are the characters saying and why?
4. Find a modern day Medea or Jason and Medea story in the news. Bring in copies of your story and discuss the following:
a. How did you determine that your finding was a modern-day Medea or Jason and Medea story?
b. What similarities and differences do you see between Euripides’ Medea and your modern tale?
c. If you have identified a modern Medea, how is she characterized by friends and strangers?
d. What justifications are offered for your modern Medea’s actions? Do they resemble any of the arguments in the play?
e. What do your modern Medea or Jason and Medea suggest about the enduring nature of human relationships?
f. Why do you think we have modern-day parallels to Jason and Medea? What lessons can we learn from these individuals?
5. Imagine you are a reporter for a local paper in Medea’s time. You have learned of the events that unfold at Jason and Medea’s home and you have been granted an exclusive interview with Medea. Create a 100 word introduction of the piece. What types of questions would you ask Medea; what tact would you take? How would you cover the story? Have each member of your group write a short article about the events that unfolded.
Listen kids: don’t go evil. I shouldn’t have to say it, but just in case, do not attempt any of the crimes contained in this article at home. Do not blackmail people. Do not try to kill them. Do not invade and devour planets. When you grow up, try to avoid murdering your own children. Do […]
