Synopsis: Aphrodite is furious for Hippolytus’ refusal of her power and his avowal of chastity to the goddess Artemis. She curses him by forcing his stepmother, Phaedra, to fall in love with him. Phaedra wishes to kill herself to be released from this illicit burden but her nurse is convinced she may swear Hippolytus to secrecy and make him understand. She fails, and Phaedra kills herself when she overhears the disgust of her stepson. She leaves a note claiming to have been raped by Hippolytus so that he may not reveal her desire to his father Theseus. Theseus finds the note and banishes his son, calling on his father Poseidon to kill him. Poseidon does so by calling out a sea monster to frighten Hippolytus’ horses and drag him to his death. Hippolytus’ dying body is brought to Theseus and Artemis appears to reveal Aphrodite’s trick. Theseus seeks his son’s forgiveness as he dies in his arms.
What moved me: What I love about this work is the mortality of its gods. Aphrodite is the queen of sass and Artemis might be a frosty librarian and both are equally governed by human desires. They experience the desire for power over others just as we do and are subject to the pettiness of rivalry, the pangs of longing, and the sweetness and bitterness of grief.
Synopsis: Father is a fire-fighter, the local hero, and his youngest daughter has just been born. His love for her is unlike any other kind of love – deep, long, protective – but as she heads towards adolescence he has to confront how our hyper-sexual culture is forcing young girls to grow up fast. All this in the midst of the gods’ wrath, who’ve stopped the wind and made the forests burn, forcing him to choose what sacrifice he is willing to live with.
What moved me: My familiarity with the Iphigenia myth upon which this work is based allowed me to see the full extent to which Holloway had allowed it to be infected by an Australian sensibility. Athena’s refusal to allow the wind to blow and so release the Greek fleet on its way to Troy is our craze-inducing heat in which we wait with baited breath for the first fire of the season to break. The fire-fighter is our Agamemnon, who we look to when we need to be saved (and who is an unimpeachable archetype of Australian masculinity).
I also loved the dilation of Holloway’s language. Every scene unravels as a layer of images slathered upon each other – we think it is one thing, but then it becomes another, and another, and another, until we almost stop trying to assume we understand what we are seeing and wait to be told.
Synopsis: Phaedra, wife of King Theseus of Athens and granddaughter of Zeus, has fallen in love with her stepson Hippolytus, the son of Theseus and Amazon Hippolyta. She is near death in her anguish for the impossible situation, as well as for Hippolytus’ infamous virtue and his consistent spurning of all women. Unbeknownst to her, Hippolytus has fallen in love with Aricia, the only survivor of the royal family vanquished by Theseus. The news that Theseus has vanished to the underworld spurs Phaedra to confess her love, to the horror of her stepson. However, Theseus is in fact still alive and Phaedra, at the suggestion of her nurse, Oenone, accuses Hippolytus of forcing himself upon her. Theseus asks Neptune to avenge his wife, for he himself is unable to kill his own son. As Hippolytus flees, a sea-monster appears from the depths of the ocean to frighten the young man’s horses, who drag him to his death. Theseus realises his mistake too late, as Phaedra confesses her guilt before dying from the poison she has imbibed.
What moved me: Phaedra. This difficult, wild-blooded woman who is literally consumed by her own desires. There is little about her that is redeeming. Her jealousy is ugly, as is her desire to save face, and yet there is a tarnished nobility to the steadfastedness of her love. Of course, one version of this story is that the wrath of the spurned Aphrodite condemned Hippolytus to be loved by the next woman who saw him, so Phaedra had no control in this unrolling of her fate. However, Racine’s treatment is much more complicated, much more focused on the fragility of the human heart and its refusal to be governed. To the end, Phaedra loves, and it consumes like wildfire.