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SenecaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“Is anything worse
Than to be always wet and always thirsty, worse than hunger
Yearning without end?”
Tantalus’s “tantalizing” punishment in the underworld is the perfect symbol for the desires that plague his descendants Atreus and Thyestes. Atreus and Thyestes hunger for power and thirst for each other’s blood. Tantalus is the literal embodiment of the play’s frequent use of such food-based metaphors (See: Symbols & Motifs), as it is his punishment to experience eternal hunger and thirst in the underworld.
“Listen to what I have to say: believe me, I learnt the hard way:
Love your punishments. When will I achieve
Escape from those above?”
Crushed under the weight of his own misdeeds, Tantalus would rather experience punishment than commit yet more evil. In death, it seems that Tantalus finally understands what he (like his descendants) failed to understand in life: That no hunger or thirst is more terrible than the desire for evil. Tantalus’s predicament thus introduces the theme of The Destructive Power of Desire, through which his descendants are doomed to repeat his mistakes.
“Good! Spread out your madness through the house
Make them resemble you, make them hate, make them thirst
To drink their own blood.”
The Fury here orders Tantalus to infect his descendants with his own terrible desires, so that they will “thirst / To drink their own blood.” The imagery of “thirst” linked with “blood” once more invokes the food-based metaphors of insatiable desire for power and evil in the play (See: Symbols & Motifs). However, even before the Fury sends Tantalus to “spread out [his] madness through the house,” Atreus and Thyestes are already committing terrible atrocities against one another (as they both admit), and Tantalus himself notes that his descendants are continuing his wickedness. There is thus a sense that the action of the play has multiple causes: the intervention of Tantalus, the hereditary nature of the wickedness of Tantalus’s descendants, and by fate itself.
“Do not allow each generation to get worse,
Each son more evil than his father was.
Let thirsty Tantalus’ wicked children grow
Weary at last, and put aside their rages.
Enough wrong has been done. Goodness has done no good,
And those alike in evil hurt each other.”
The Chorus clings to the hope that the hereditary wickedness of the house of Tantalus will fade away and even turn into good—a hope that is utterly in vain, as the action of the play will show. The entire family represents The Overturning of the Natural Order, where only evil prospers while “goodness has done no good.”
“Come on, my soul! Do deeds that history will condemn
But never cease to speak of. The crime that I must dare
Is black and bloody—the kind of thing my brother
Would wish he had done himself.”
Atreus’s desire for evil and notoriety is so utterly excessive as to seem almost unbelievable. Such is the force of his hate; but there is also something clearly competitive in Atreus’s revenge, coming through in Atreus’s desire to devise the kind of crime that Thyestes “would wish he had done himself.” This comment reflects both the longstanding rivalry between the brothers and the cyclical nature of violence: Since each brother has committed atrocities against the other, neither one can fully trust the other or wish to break the violence that poisons their relations with one another for fear of falling prey themselves.
“SERVANT. Are you not afraid
The people will speak against you?
ATREUS. The best thing about being king
Is making folks accept whatever you do,
And even praise it.
[. . .]
Trust, faith, goodness,
Are merely private goals; kings follow their own way.”
Atreus’s exchange with the Servant shows him to be a true tyrant, who flagrantly disregards popular opinion, morality, law, and even the gods in his belief that his subjects will have to “accept whatever [he] does” by virtue of his position. He even dismisses moral values as “merely private goals” and defines kingship as exercising unchecked desires: “kings follow their own way.” This exchange speaks to the theme of The Meaning and Nature of Power in the play: Although Atreus may be able to do whatever he wants, he is clearly unable to control his desires, and this, as the Chorus argues, is hardly true power.
“A trembling frenzy shakes my heart,
And stirs it deep inside; I am swept away—to where
I do not know, but I am. Earth bellows from below,
The day is calm but I hear thunder; through all its towers
The palace crashes and seems to break. Shaken,
The Lares turn away. Let it be, let this evil come about,
Despite your terror, gods.”
Atreus’s desire for revenge and evil manifests with physical symptoms (“A trembling frenzy shakes my heart”) underscoring Atreus’s inability to control himself and The Destructive Power of Desire. The imagery of nature behaving in ominous ways, with the “Earth bellow[ing],” the rumble of “thunder,” and the sense of an earthquake, foreshadows the way in which the sun itself will reverse his course after Atreus puts his plan into effect, suggesting that Atreus’s uncontrolled passions are driving him to transgress the natural (and divine) order.
“In your greed for power, you do not know
Where kingship really lies.
[…]
A king is one who can set fear aside,
Who has no wickedness inside his heart.”
Atreus and Thyestes fundamentally misunderstand The Meaning and Nature of Power, at least the way the Chorus sees it. In the view of the Chorus (heavily influenced by the teachings of Stoic philosophy), true kingship is defined not by temporal power or wealth but by self-control—something that both Atreus and Thyestes clearly lack.
“Stand, if you wish, on the slippery
Pinnacle of power.
But I am satisfied with sweet peace.
Let my place be humble, let me enjoy
Quiet free time forever.”
The Chorus again echoes Stoic teachings by preferring a life of “sweet peace” and humility to any earthly power. For the Chorus, power is merely “slippery” instead of desirable, while a life of retreat and self-containment leads to “Quiet free time forever.” In the following scene, Thyestes will come close to reaching the same conclusion, though he will ultimately fail to resist the temptation of kingly power.
“No reason to be dazzled
By the false, flashy brightness of royal power.
When you look at the gift, look at the giver too.”
Echoing Virgil’s dictum “beware the Greeks bearing gifts,” Thyestes’s sentiment here reflects his knowledge of his brother (“look at the giver too”). When Thyestes looks past what he wants to see (“the false, flashy brightness of royal power”), he can grasp that his brother is not to be trusted, and even that the prize being dangled before him is not a true prize. However—just as Atreus anticipated—Thyestes will ultimately be unable to resist the promise of power, once more embodying The Destructive Power of Desire.
“Believe me, it is only language misapplied
That makes us want to be ‘great,’ and fear to ‘suffer.’
Lofty position brought me constant fear; I was afraid
Even of my own sword. Ah, what a wonderful thing
To get in no one’s way, to have a carefree picnic
Relaxing on the ground!”
Thyestes almost recognizes the illusory nature of temporal power, as the Chorus does. Although he is able to intellectually grasp this idea, his desires finally get the better of him—whatever he says, Thyestes still desires to be king, and like his brother Atreus, he cannot control his desires. His admission here that “Lofty position brought [him] constant fear” in contrast to the “wonderful thing” that is a humble and anonymous life invokes The Meaning and Nature of Power.
“There is no greater power than true devotion;
Strangers’ quarrels may endure long years,
But true love always holds those it has held.”
The Chorus’ complete misunderstanding of Atreus’s dissimulation suggests that they are poor judges of character, though in a way their reasoning is sound: If even “strangers’ quarrels” are ultimately overcome, even more so should brothers eventually forgive each other! However, there is something deeply unnatural in Atreus and Thyestes, something that defies even reason, however sound that reason may be.
“No situation lasts. Pleasure and pain
Give way in turn; but pleasure is more brief.
A fleeting hour exchanges high and low.”
Not only is fortune constantly shifting, but pleasure in particular never lasts—all the more reason, in the Chorus’ Stoic worldview, to seek meaning elsewhere. When one seeks to fulfill every desire, one becomes a victim of The Destructive Power of Desire, always devising greater and more terrible pleasures—as Atreus and Thyestes do.
“This was the place
Where angry Atreus dragged his brother’s children.
The altars are adorned—how can I say this?—
The little princes have their hands tied back;
He binds their poor little heads with a purple band.
Incense was not forgotten, or the holy juice of Bacchus,
And with the knife he daubed the victims with salted grains.
All due ritual was observed, in case such a horrible crime
Be done improperly.”
Atreus’s murder of Thyestes’s sons is presented as a particularly perverted sacrifice—an appropriate allusion to their father, as the name “Thyestes” comes from the Greek word meaning “sacrifice.” Atreus is remarkably scrupulous about this sacrifice (“All due ritual was observed”), taking apparent relish in his crime, and preserving the illusion of a sacrifice until the very end: For just as ancient Greek and Roman sacrifices usually ended with the sacrificial victim being eaten, so too does Atreus’s sacrifice end with his victims being eaten by their own father.
“This man makes normal pain desirable:
If only the father could see his children unburied!
Incredible evil! Historians will deny it.”
What Atreus has done to Thyestes’s children is the worst thing the Messenger can imagine, worse even than leaving them unburied (a particularly egregious offense in Greece and Rome). Atreus has succeeded in doing something so terrible that it would never be forgotten (or even believed)—and yet this will not prevent Atreus from later thinking of ways in which his revenge could have been even more terrible.
“Were we from all humanity the ones
Who earned destruction, crushed by the overturning
Of the hinges of the world?
Will the last days come in our time?
We were born for a cruel lot,
Whether we, poor things, have lost the sun,
Or forced him into exile.”
The Chorus imagines that the world is ending, and that the unnatural darkening is a sign that the gods are fleeing. They believe that the world may now be condemned for the wickedness of humankind. It is telling that in this world, Atreus’s actions are too horrifying even for punishment: Instead of punishing, the gods retreat, embodying The Overturning of the Natural Order.
“My steps are level with the stars, I rise above the world
Touching heaven’s axis with my exalted head.
Now royal power and my father’s throne are mine.
No need of gods! Now all my prayers are answered.”
Atreus, his revenge complete, sees himself as a god, rising like a god as high as heaven and “Touching heaven’s axis with [his] exalted head.” Indeed, the Messenger’s speech in the preceding scene has suggested that the heavens are in turmoil, and Atreus seems to take this as a sign of his promotion. Atreus is the only god he needs, having accomplished everything he needed to without, and even in spite of, the gods (or so he believes).
“Long suffering has numbed my heart.
Now set aside your cares!
Away with grief, away with fear,
Away with that companion of my exile:
Bitter poverty, and shame which weighs
Heavily on the poor. The sense of loss
Is worse than suffering.”
Thyestes seems to reject the philosophical position he had professed in Act III, now embracing the pleasures and desires that he warned his sons against. The way Thyestes longs to take joy in his new condition suggests that he is in some way deluded about his own nature and fate. His capitulation represents The Destructive Power of Desire.
“Unhappy people tend to have this fault:
Never believing happiness has come.
But good luck can come back again, although
Those who have suffered distrust celebrations.”
Something about Thyestes’s situation makes him suspicious, although he here tries to reassure himself that “good luck can come back again.” Thyestes cannot entirely shake his uneasiness, filling the scene with a sense of foreboding. It also creates a moment of dramatic irony, as the audience (or reader) already knows what Thyestes’s feast consists of, although Thyestes is still unaware.
“THYESTES. I am full of food and full of wine.
The only thing that could increase my pleasure.
Is if my boys could join me in my joy.
ATREUS. Your boys are here, believe me—held by their father.
They are here and always will be; no part of your children
Can ever be taken from you.”
Thyestes draws on the motif of Food and Drink, so prominent throughout the play (See: Symbols & Motifs), to express his satiety. He finally has everything he wants (or thinks he wants), and asks for his sons to share in his happiness. Atreus’s response that Thyestes’s sons are already with him is a particularly grotesque instance of dramatic irony: As Thyestes is about to find out, he has already eaten his sons.
“THYESTES. My stomach feels upset. What is this rumbling inside me?
What is trembling? I feel a restless weight:
My belly moans with someone else’s moan.
Come here, children! Your poor father wants you.
Come here! When I see you, I will be fine.
Where are their voices coming from?
ATREUS. Get ready to hug your children.
They are here already. Do you not recognize them?
THYESTES. I recognize my brother.”
Thyestes’s sick feeling is another indication of The Overturning of the Natural Order, accompanying the retreating sun. In performance, this would have been when Atreus displayed the hands and heads of Thyestes’s sons, which he is described as saving in an earlier scene. In this action, Thyestes finally realizes what he was afraid of throughout the play: The vengeance of his brother, whom he now “recognize[s]” all too clearly.
“I ask you as a brother: let me bury them.
Let them be cremated, right away. Give me my children,
Not to keep, but lose.
ATREUS. You have all that remains
of your children—and even what does not.
THYESTES. Are their bodies food for birds of prey?
Are wild beasts ripping them apart and eating them?
ATREUS. You are the one who feasted on your sons.”
At last, Atreus reveals the enormity of his revenge: Thyestes cannot bury his children because he has already eaten them, burying them inside his own body. Thyestes becomes the reason he cannot give his sons a proper burial, and as Thyestes feels worse and worse, he becomes convinced that his sons are punishing him for this from within.
“Even this is too little for me.
I should have poured hot blood into your mouth
Direct from their wounds, to make you drink them alive.
My impatience cheated my rage.
[…]
My vengeance is a failure. The wicked father
Munched up his sons, but did not know it; nor did they.”
Nowhere is it clearer than here how much Atreus is a victim of The Destructive Power of Desire, as Atreus regrets that he could not make his vengeance even worse. His victory was short-lived, and he now feels dissatisfied with it: Atreus must always desire something, and so cannot be satisfied even when he has accomplished his desire. This is why, as the Chorus argues, somebody who is free to do whatever they desire is never really free unless they can also exercise self-restraint over their desires.
“If nothing moves the gods,
If there are no powers above to hunt for sinners,
Let night remain eternal, covering up
My giant sins with growing darkness. Sun,
If you stay back I have no more complaints.”
In what have been seen as some of his most rhetorically successful lines, Thyestes condemns Atreus to the gods’ punishment, or else the world to eternal darkness. His meaning is that if the gods do not punish Atreus, it must mean that they have abandoned the whole world to darkness, punishment, and The Overturning of the Natural Order—so horrific is the crime of this one individual.
“THYESTES. The gods will take revenge;
I give you to their care for punishment.
ATREUS. And for your punishment, I give you to your children.”
Thyestes’s invocation of the gods is undercut by Atreus, who gets the final word in as the curtain falls: Atreus may be punished by the gods, but Thyestes will be punished by his own sons. To Atreus, who comes to see himself as the only god there is, this is a far more terrible punishment—especially in the world of the play, where the gods show up, if at all, only as sinister powers with little interest in upholding justice.
By Seneca