Telikó

It's hard to discern a pivotal theme in a play like Lysistrata. As a reader, I got wrapped up in the comedy and the sometimes odd translations of the text rather than focusing on close reading. Going over the play a second time, I was able to pick up several themes, but the one that resonated most with me was the message of peace. Seemingly obvious in a brief synopsis of the play, it doesn't just cover that broad, general term. There is a significant moment towards the end of the play when the groups of men and women convene to discuss the end of the women's protest and the end of the war. Lysistrata exits the Akropolis accompanied by Peace, represented by "a beautiful girl without a stitch on." From then on, a Spartan delegate and Kinesias, representing Athens, are tempted by Peace while Lysistrata scolds them into resolving the war. Both men attempt to touch her, and then rebuke each other several times away from Peace, negotiating over "her" body until they reach a truce (115-121). The manner by which the issues between Sparta and Athens are resolved prove that the hard-fought battles (both between Athens and Sparta and their men and women) are worth something in the end, and that end is Peace, literal girl or abstract idea.

Lysistrata (the character) is my favorite. While her second-in-command, Kleonike, is bawdy and amusing, Myrrhine is fiery and determined, and the Spartan woman Lampito is agreeable and enthusiastic, Lysistrata is the spearhead of the whole operation. She brings together an unlikely group of people, from warring states and unites them through a common cause. She then proceeds to be the best leader possible, defying male attempts at putting the women "back in their places" and using what education she received to negotiate peace between bullheaded groups of men. She truly is admirable as a strong female character, and there should be more like her. Even though literature has seen a recent influx in empowered female protagonists, it seems inevitable that their stories are complicated by a love triangle or some other romantic dilemma. Lysistrata is simply quite done with what she sees as a fruitless war and uses sex as a weapon to let men also find common ground and come together to reach an accord.

I would recommend reading this play, but only if you as a reader enjoy or tolerate rather immature sexual innuendos and can tamp down anger at misogynistic commentary. This play has to be taken with a grain of salt; it was first performed in 411 BC in a society very different from our own, so not all of it can be taken as literal truth. Aristophanes lived in ancient Greece where men and women were treated even more differently than they are today, but he rises women up on an equal intellectual plane as men and even a higher moral plane than men. I enjoyed some of the jokes, because some of them are funny; after the women dump water over the men literally trying to smoke them out of the Akropolis, the Koryphaios of men indignantly lists his woes to an Athens commissioner ("We're flooded/with indignity from those bitches' pitchers--like a unch/of weak-bladdered brats. Our cloaks are sopped. We'll/sue!") and the Athens commissioner responds with, "Useless. Your suit won't hold water. Right's on their side." (56). Badum-tss! Hold water? Get it? Their cloaks--yeah, I was a little too amused by that pun. But in all seriousness, this is a relatable, funny play that may contain some sexist and inappropriate lines, but I consider it to be slightly ahead of the times. Most ancient Greek playwrights don't really empower mortal women too much. Aristophanes accomplishes that task beautifully. Even ancient Greek myths don't put mortal women in such a position of empowerment. Andromeda is the poor princess who has to be saved by Perseus, Ariadne was abandoned by Theseus, Eurydice was sent back to the underworld by Orpheus. Ancient, mortal Greek women are constantly being saved or banished by men, yet the women in Lysistrata refuse to be as tragic as those mythical women.



In close reading, I referred back to Thomas Foster's "It's All About Sex..." and "...Except Sex" chapters in How to Read Literature Like a Professor. That was the most obvious resource for me, and it did help. In Myrrhine and Kinesias's one-on-one scene, they escape to "Pan's grotto." A grotto is a cave or cavern, which could be a vaginal reference. At some points, I tried to ignore Foster's telling advice, mostly because I felt like I would get too dirty-minded if I kept going on like that. Nabokov's advice held little influence over me as I read this play; I don't think he had ancient Greek sex wars in mind when writing about the "go-between" and "prism" of great literature. I did follow his advice on noticing details, because if I didn't in this play, I wouldn't notice the especially punny parts, and the especially emotional parts of the play as well. Due to Nabokov and Foster's influence, I read this play casually, but a close casual, because not reading close...well, then what's the point?


Look, it's Nabokov!

What's Not to Love?

It's pretty clear to me that I am a product of my environment. I grew up with strong female role models, and lived mostly with my mom and two older sisters. As a result, I am passionate about gender equality and feminism, which has been encouraged and abetted since my days in kindergarten when it was often girls vs. boys on the playground. Women are as intellectual, as brave, as strong, as good as men; we are equals.

One of the reasons I chose this play is because I read another book that referenced it. The book is called Shut Out by Kody Keplinger, and it's a teen novel I picked up a few years ago on a lazy summer day. Shut Out is actually based on Lysistrata, and when I saw it on the list, I decided to go for it. The play is witty, and comedic, but it epitomizes gender equality of men and women. That's why I love it so much. Although there is the implication that men are weak, and driven by lust, which is often true, women can act in the same manner. In one scene, Lysistrata has three separate verbal altercations with three separate women desperate to, as she so eloquently puts it, "get laid." The fact that women are presented as equally sexual creatures as men is beyond our times even. Nowadays, women are often oversexed, on magazine covers, in movies, in comics...any outlet possible, really.

Aside from the satisfying gender equality, Lysistrata is a comedy that is the perfect balance of debauchery and seriousness. For an immature reader, the crude and mostly unsophisticated sexual innuendos may present a sort of block. While they were amusing most times, they are not the reason the play works as a comedy. The play works as a comedy through its unrelenting squabbles between the men and women, and then ties together sweetly at the end when (Spoiler Alert!) the men of Athens and Sparta finally agree to peace. It isn't tiresome, like some other ancient Greek plays. It's fresh and enjoyable, compared to the tragedies and depressing myths captured in plays by the Greeks. Before this, I'd never read a Greek comedy, and because of this play, I definitely want to read another.

Modernity is also what makes this play relatable. The application of this play to society today would be interesting to explore more in-depth. Nowadays, it's illegal to sexually blackmail anyone, but the unity shown by men and women when a situation calls for it in this play could very well resolve issues beyond gender equality. If women could see eye-to-eye on issues such as, I don't know, the rights to their own bodies, and go against the sexist men trying to limit those rights, then we as a society would make much more progress.

Myrrhine vs. Kinesias

In the Greek women's act of defiance and abstinence, Lysistrata receives total support. One of the secondary characters, Myrrhine is employed by Lysistrata to demonstrate the most blatant show of women's sexual power over men. When Myrrhine's husband Kinesias comes to the women holing up at the Akropolis, Lysistrata seizes it as a strategic opportunity. She sends Myrrhine down with the instructions: "Pop him on the griddle, twist/the spit, braize him, baste him, stew him in his own/juice, do him to a turn. Sear him with kisses,/coyness, caresses, everything--/but stop where Our Oath/begins." (91). As if the sexual imagery Lysistrata presents weren't enough, Myrrhine proceeds to follow Lysistrata's orders almost perfectly. She tortures her desperate husband, finding new excuses as to why they couldn't make love while subtly inserting reminders to vote for peace between Athens and Sparta. After she runs off, Kinesias laments his...state but defends his wife when the Koryphaios of the Men (the leader of the male chorus) insults Myrrhine (99-104).

Picasso, Pablo. Cinesias et Myrrhine. 1934. Etching. 

This scene is the most intriguing of the whole play. It shows how the male species underestimates the "weaker" sex, not really believing they have it in them to fight for their rights and what they want. This play is a comedy, but there are serious undertones in terms of gender equality and rights, as well as portraying the complicated relationships between men and women. Myrrhine and Kinesias are the most obvious example of this in the book; before their seemingly sexual encounter, Myrrhine descends from the Akropolis to where her husband and child wait in a guilt-trip trap. Kinesias attempts to shame her, saying: "You should be ashamed of yourself, letting these women/lead you around. Why do you DO these things?/You only make me suffer and hurt your poor,/sweet self." Myrrhine fires right back with "Keep your hands away from me!...Frankly, I couldn't care less." (96). This dialogue captures the assumptions of men who believe they are higher in a relationship with a woman. Calling Myrrhine "poor" and "sweet" is the most patronizing description of a strong woman who is clearly surviving well without her husband's attentions. Today, there is less inequality between genders, but it is still a solid belief in many cultures and misogynistic generations that women cannot survive without a man.

Kinesias contradicts this centuries-old conviction in his original statement, even providing more support in a diatribe about the poor state of the household after Myrrhine refuses to give in to his bid to seduce her back to normality, where she lives as a docile housewife. He can't seem to keep himself together, or his household, and though it is made clear he and Myrrhine truly do love each other, his original attempts at getting her back reflect all too well into modern society, such as the social perceptions of the 1950s, where women were expected to make Jell-O at home and listen to their husbands without complaint or disrespect.

Lysistrata: A Strong Female Character (for once)

First, some background: "Lysistrata" is an ancient Greek play written by Aristophanes, a playwright of the generation following Sophocles and Euripides. It's a comedy, littered with sexual innuendos and debauched imagery. Why? In the midst of the Peloponnesian Wars, a group of all  women from each opposing city-state (Athens and Sparta) led by Lysistrata unite to achieve peace with the ultimate weapon: sex. In a surefire manner, denying your husband sex in ancient Greece would garner interesting results, namely, their retaliation, until one side is forced to surrender.

1925 play cover

 Lysistrata, for whom the play is named, is the title character in the play, and is one of the most dynamic and determined female characters I've seen in any play. If you've read "Antigone" by Sophocles, she is reminiscent of the character that play is named after as well, albeit with more wanton behavior. From the beginning, Lysistrata does not give in. At the initial meeting between the representatives of the two opposing groups of women, they balk at Lysistrata's plan of "Total Abstinence," her neighbor and right-hand woman Kleonike proclaiming: "SEX--there's nothing like it, Lysistrata!" Angered, Lysistrata begins to scold the group: "Utter sluts, the entire sex! Will-power/nil. We're perfect raw material for Tragedy,/the stuff of heroic lays. 'Go to bed with a god/and then get ride of the baby'--that sums us up!" (33-34). Her willpower is formidable and unrelenting from that point on; after convincing the women to actually carry through with her abstinence plan, she prevents them from breaking their vow, "losing her grip on the girls--they're mad for men!" and then proceeds to physically stop women with feeble excuses from leaving their no-sex barricade at the Akropolis.

(Aubrey Beardsley, 1896)

Her ferocious will is echoed in her bold words continuously throughout the play. When the Commissioner of Athens steps forward to try and force the women out of their plan, they attack back with a vengeance, and upon his dazed response to the overwhelming of Athens' archers, she sasses him: "What did you expect? We're not slaves;/we're freeborn Women, and when we're scorned, we're/full of fury. Never Underestimate the Power of a Woman." (61). She is a brassy, comedic symbol of a time where women were thought capable of immense powers, shown through worship of goddesses living in Olympus. Lysistrata is also a religious woman, seeking strength through the goddesses of power and respect. She often swears by and prays to Artemis, the goddess of the moon, hunt, and protector of women and girls. Lysistrata is similar to Artemis,  and not just by the physical beauty that was so important at the time. Both act as protectors and bestow their wisdom on those who follow them, as well as leading attacks on men for their penchant towards violence and unadulterated misogyny. She is the ancient Greek version of Foster's Christ-figure, and that is a characteristic that adds a heap of ethos to her character.