WHERE IS ELECTRA IN SOPHOCLES’ ELECTRA?
Francis Dunn
My general theme is the semiotics of space. By this I refer to the pro- cess by which dramatic space acquires meaning—the skene, for example, becoming a sign denoting the House of Atreus, or an offstage area beyond view coming to represent Mount Cithaeron. Each drama generates its own set of significant spaces which may have connotations enriched by the internal action of the play or by the external knowledge of the audi- ence, and these spaces may in turn contribute to the meaning of a char- acter or the response of an audience.1 As a brief illustration, consider the prologue of Aeschylus’ Eumenides, spoken by the priestess at Delphi. Only gradually does she identify the skene, beginning instead by invoking Gaia and her daughter Themis, whose prophetic powers were eventually passed down to Apollo; thus she endows Apollo’s Temple with a power and authority almost as old as the world itself (–), while also indicat- ing her own identity and stature. The shocking reentry of the priestess a few lines later, crawling on all fours from within the temple (–), con- sequently undermines the authority of the temple and generates a new, horrifying space within. Dramatic space may be dense and complex, and I could not begin to unpack this opening scene without considering the ritual space implied by the oracle, and the geographical space suggested by those Athenians who escorted Apollo on his way from Delos to Delphi (–). My aim in this essay, however, is more limited, exploring one charac- ter’s relation to dramatic space, and my thesis is that Sophocles’ Electra handles this unusually: the protagonist, I shall argue, fails to occupy a significant place—partly because she is excluded from those that seem to acquire importance, and partly because the places she does occupy are emptied of meaning (they fall short as signs). My argument begins with the most important signifier in theatrical space, the skene, and then
1 Much has been written on dramatic space, especially since Peter Brook’s influential The Empty Space, ; most of my discussion would fall under the rubric of “Fictional Places” in the taxonomy of McAuley : –. For works specifically concerned with Greek tragedy, see Wiles and Rehm . francis dunn considers other real and imagined spaces that Electra may inhabit, even- tually concluding that Sophocles’ use of “negative space” not only height- ens the emotional power of his protagonist but also makes it hard for spectators to find meaning in the murders.
After she enters at the end of the prologue, Electra is outside the scene- building for all but fourteen lines of this lengthy play.2 Her sister comes outside to find her there, as does her mother; more important, she is outside when her mother is murdered indoors,3 and stands by as Aegisthus is ushered inside to his death. Through all these comings and goings she remains in the same location, not far from the door of the scene-building. What, then, does this place signify? The scene-building is identified for the audience only by those who return from afar, Orestes and the Tutor. As they enter at the beginning of the play, the Tutor identifies to Orestes features of the surrounding land- scape,4 concluding with the building visible onstage: “and here, where we have arrived, you behold the house of the Pelopidae, full of death” (c δ’ κνμεν,/ &σκειν Μυκνας τ<ς πλυ%ρ συς =ρEν,/ πλ & ρν τε δ)μα Πελπιδ)ν τδε, –). Later, when they return in disguise, how- ever, the travellers identify it not as the site of ancestral violence but as the living quarters of the man they seek: “Dear women,”the Tutor asks, bring- ing his news of Orestes’ death, “is this truly the house of the henchman Aegisthus?” (7 ναι γυνα1κες, π)ς ?ν ε"δεην σα&)ς / ε" τ τυρννυ δ+ματ’ Α"γσ υ τδε; –). Subsequently Orestes, when he enters with the ashes to prove he is dead, likewise asks the chorus-women if he is on the right path: “I have been looking for where Aegisthus has his home” (ΑDγισ ν Cν ’ (κηκεν στρ) πλαι, ). Thus in preparing for their scheme, the Tutor and Orestes define the scene somewhat vaguely as the site of prior murders, but in carrying it out, they define it very narrowly as the house of the man they mean to kill.
2 Her voice is heard at line , she enters at , and except for brief exit at –, she remains onstage until , the last line of the play, when she reenters the house; on her final exit, see discussion below. 3 To some extent the murder of Clytemnestra within the house is ventriloquized through Electra onstage, who cries out for her murder (compare Ringer : –), but she is unequivocally separated from the deed, and her exclamations are less effective in making the murder visible to the audience than are the detailed reports provided in other plays. As Kitzinger observes, Electra’s words “are so plainly removed from it [the action] that they are shockingly futile and empty” (). 4 I discuss this topographical excursus in Dunn .