By Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides
In An Oresteia, the classicist Anne Carson combines 3 assorted models of the tragedy of the home of Atreus ― A iskhylos' Agamemnon, Sophokles' Elektra and Euripides' Orestes. After the homicide of her daughter Iphigeneia via her husband, Agamemnon, Klytaimestra exacts a mother's revenge, murdering Agamemnon and his mistress, Kassandra. Displeased with Klytaimestra's activities, Apollo calls on her son, Orestes, to avenge his father's demise with the aid of his sister Elektra. finally, Orestes is pushed mad by way of the Furies for his bloody betrayal of relatives. Condemned to dying by way of the folk of Argos, he and Elektra needs to justify their activities ― or flout society, justice and the gods.
Carson's translation combines modern language with the normal buildings and rhetoric of Greek tragedy, starting up this historical story of vengeance to a contemporary viewers and revealing the basic wit and morbidity of the unique performs.
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Additional resources for An Oresteia: Agamemnon by Aiskhylos; Elektra by Sophokles; Orestes by Euripides
Again I was stranded, and what a sad-looking sack I was. The next day, I got a job as a busboy on the Old Dominion Line boat that carried passengers and freight from Norfolk to New York. The Old Dominion Line docked at Desbrosses Street in New York. It was an eight-mile hike to 120th Street, where my folks lived. Between hitching on the back of horse cars and on an occasional truck, I finally made it. I hadn’t slept for three nights; I was dirty, tired, and still wearing the tuxedo pants and purple shirt.
The record-breaking run of this engagement made theatrical history. Weeks, months, and years went by and audiences grew enamored of me. They took to me so enthusiastically that I began to think the romance was for keeps. But motion pictures got bigger, radio and TV got better, and stage shows got scarcer. Those are the breaks. To many of us, they were heartbreaks. Stage shows were alive, exhilarating, full of highs and lows. Every performance was a new adventure. I liked everything about our kind of theater, from the lovable old stage-door man to “Props,” a guy who could get you 3 A n O l d -T i m e r ’ s l A m e n T any kind of a gadget from a mid-Victorian tiara to a potbellied stove.
When I gave Teddy an accounting of our funds, there was no whimpering. “Seventeen cents,” she said. ” We each had a cup of coffee and a chocolate-covered donut, and we still had two cents left. Those two cents came in handy around five o’clock. We both felt completely empty, and the salted peanuts from the penny machine tasted delicious. After our hearty breakfast, I called on the manager of the theater and sold him and also the other stranded members of the show a larcenous scheme. We would give a benefit performance that night.
An Oresteia: Agamemnon by Aiskhylos; Elektra by Sophokles; Orestes by Euripides by Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides