1. Introduction to “Medea’s Motherhood”
In Froma I. Zeitlin’s critical essay Playing the Other: Gender and Society in Classical Greek Literature, she outlines four fundamentals of tragic Greek theater, all of which serve to define and highlight the role of the feminine in the tragic genre. The first and therefore most emphatic of these fundamentals is the body of each character in and of itself. Cherrie L. Moraga’s The Hungry Woman, an adaptation of Euripides’ tragedy Medea into modern-day Mexican theater, exemplifies Zeitlin’s theories about the indispensable role of the body in a tragedy by positioning the bodies of her female characters as indicators of their femininity and the driving force behind their actions. Moraga’s adaptation of the ancient Greek tragedy, although it carries through the underlying image of Medea as defying the accepted social norms and behavior for women, nevertheless makes a significant departure from Euripides' original in that Moraga displays and heightens the sense of maternal instinct and humanity embodied by her character of Medea. What Moraga’s adaptation suggests above all is the profound physicality of motherhood, and the nature of women such that every female passion—most notably Medea’s determination for revenge and her sexuality—can find its roots in maternal instinct.
2. From “Inside Out: A Look at Theatrical Space in von Trier’s Medea”
In the final scene, after the killings, Medea now takes a place on a ship; similar to the one Jason first was seen on. Jason, on the other hand, is left on his own with the bodies of their children. This reversal is key to Von Trier’s overall emotional appeal in the film. Medea has recently made a decision that greatly affects both her and Jason, to exact revenge upon him for making a decision for the two of them. She has also taken her place on the masculine ship and relegated Jason to her place on the shore. However, she retains her feminine position by letting her hair down for the first time in the film. The long red curtain of hair is a surprising visual, which coupled with her near tears expression show genuine pain and suffering that the original Medea did not feel, seals the overriding feminine role she plays in the story. Jason battles his way through grief and nature. As he pours out feminine emotion, grief, he is surrounded by the feminine elements of trees and fields. Balance is maintained and almost exactly replicated in reverse from the opening scene. The positioning of these characters is no accident, and Von Trier took full advantage of the tactics Zeitlin set out, adding the element of nature.
3. From “An Interpretation of Moraga’s The Hungry Woman: A Mexican Medea in Terms of Classical Views of Gender and Society”
The same social assumptions that restrict women to the domestic sphere also assign to them the ability to scheme and plot with exceptional skill (Zeitlin 357). “Tragedy is above all the art form that makes the most of what is called discrepant awareness – what one character knows and the other doesn’t” (Zeitlin 357). Moraga’s Medea instead shifts skill in plotting and conspiracy to Jasón, who resorts to legal tricks to try to gain custody of Chac-Mool. Medea dislikes the fact that Jasón “writes me in fucking lawyerese. I hate that… There ought to be a law against fucking with language that way” (Moraga 14). Medea’s stalling and Jasón’s use of litigation to try to achieve their goals reflect their respective methods: Medea is straightforward, and Jasón is portrayed as being more crafty. The major instance of what Zeitlin refers to as “discrepant awareness” is Medea’s lack of a sense of self, and her struggle to recognize her true identity. Medea states that “We’ll pretend it is Lent and we await the resurrection of my son, my holy son” (Moraga 12). This reveals the underlying motivation behind the death of Chac-Mool. Medea is not trying to hurt Jasón, as he is never meant to see Chac-Mool or Medea dead. Jasón in this story is reduced to an obstacle that must be overcome, as opposed to the object by which all actions are justified. Medea is fighting against the abstracted concept of “the male,” as opposed to an individual. As such, it is Chac-Mool’s transformation from a boy to a man that makes his death possible. Medea criticizes Chac-Mool for reciting lines “rehearsed generations in advance and transmitted into your little male DNA” (Moraga 84). In Euripides’ Medea Jason makes broad generalizations about women, a role reversed by Moraga.
4. From “The Use of Space in Von Trier’s Medea”
Von Trier’s film begins with a strong scene that was not included in the original Medea. It sets up a dynamic between Jason and Medea that is lost in Euripides’ version by opening with abandonment. Jason stands tall on a ship while Medea struggles to stand in the water. Consider the ship that Jason stands upon; a ship is a powerful object used in warfare. This links it with masculine qualities, however, boats are referred to as “she”, detonating a feminine persona. Men are in control of these “female” objects and wield them in a masculine manner. This gives Jason a great power and a domineering personality before he even utters a word. It is obvious that Jason is leaving Medea on the beach. If we think of this scene in terms of the interior/exterior gender roles, Jason thrusts Medea into the outside and she is forced to take on a masculine role as well as a feminine one. By abandoning her, he is leaving her to take care of the children and the house, which Zeitlin considers to be a man’s property. “The house, let us now observe, is the property of the male… proprietor of its wealth and moveable goods and as a ruler over its inhabitants.” (354) With Jason gone, Medea is forced into the masculine role of proprietor. Von Trier shows the audience this by having Jason force her to deal with the outside. Setting her up to take a masculine role in a feminine situation of helplessness sets up Medea as a conflicted woman that is not present in Euripides’ version. When we first see her, she is surrounded by peacefully lapping water giving her a very feminine look as she stands facing Jason. Von Trier makes it appear as if Medea gets the power to stand from the water as it flows over her body. The ship cuts through the water as Jason cuts through Medea’s heart by abandoning her for Glauce. Audience members feel pity for Medea here, as opposed to in Euripides’ vengeful beginning with the nurse and tutor being fearful of Medea. Space and position within the setting is utilized in this scene to showcase Medea’s various roles.
In Froma I. Zeitlin’s critical essay Playing the Other: Gender and Society in Classical Greek Literature, she outlines four fundamentals of tragic Greek theater, all of which serve to define and highlight the role of the feminine in the tragic genre. The first and therefore most emphatic of these fundamentals is the body of each character in and of itself. Cherrie L. Moraga’s The Hungry Woman, an adaptation of Euripides’ tragedy Medea into modern-day Mexican theater, exemplifies Zeitlin’s theories about the indispensable role of the body in a tragedy by positioning the bodies of her female characters as indicators of their femininity and the driving force behind their actions. Moraga’s adaptation of the ancient Greek tragedy, although it carries through the underlying image of Medea as defying the accepted social norms and behavior for women, nevertheless makes a significant departure from Euripides' original in that Moraga displays and heightens the sense of maternal instinct and humanity embodied by her character of Medea. What Moraga’s adaptation suggests above all is the profound physicality of motherhood, and the nature of women such that every female passion—most notably Medea’s determination for revenge and her sexuality—can find its roots in maternal instinct.
2. From “Inside Out: A Look at Theatrical Space in von Trier’s Medea”
In the final scene, after the killings, Medea now takes a place on a ship; similar to the one Jason first was seen on. Jason, on the other hand, is left on his own with the bodies of their children. This reversal is key to Von Trier’s overall emotional appeal in the film. Medea has recently made a decision that greatly affects both her and Jason, to exact revenge upon him for making a decision for the two of them. She has also taken her place on the masculine ship and relegated Jason to her place on the shore. However, she retains her feminine position by letting her hair down for the first time in the film. The long red curtain of hair is a surprising visual, which coupled with her near tears expression show genuine pain and suffering that the original Medea did not feel, seals the overriding feminine role she plays in the story. Jason battles his way through grief and nature. As he pours out feminine emotion, grief, he is surrounded by the feminine elements of trees and fields. Balance is maintained and almost exactly replicated in reverse from the opening scene. The positioning of these characters is no accident, and Von Trier took full advantage of the tactics Zeitlin set out, adding the element of nature.
3. From “An Interpretation of Moraga’s The Hungry Woman: A Mexican Medea in Terms of Classical Views of Gender and Society”
The same social assumptions that restrict women to the domestic sphere also assign to them the ability to scheme and plot with exceptional skill (Zeitlin 357). “Tragedy is above all the art form that makes the most of what is called discrepant awareness – what one character knows and the other doesn’t” (Zeitlin 357). Moraga’s Medea instead shifts skill in plotting and conspiracy to Jasón, who resorts to legal tricks to try to gain custody of Chac-Mool. Medea dislikes the fact that Jasón “writes me in fucking lawyerese. I hate that… There ought to be a law against fucking with language that way” (Moraga 14). Medea’s stalling and Jasón’s use of litigation to try to achieve their goals reflect their respective methods: Medea is straightforward, and Jasón is portrayed as being more crafty. The major instance of what Zeitlin refers to as “discrepant awareness” is Medea’s lack of a sense of self, and her struggle to recognize her true identity. Medea states that “We’ll pretend it is Lent and we await the resurrection of my son, my holy son” (Moraga 12). This reveals the underlying motivation behind the death of Chac-Mool. Medea is not trying to hurt Jasón, as he is never meant to see Chac-Mool or Medea dead. Jasón in this story is reduced to an obstacle that must be overcome, as opposed to the object by which all actions are justified. Medea is fighting against the abstracted concept of “the male,” as opposed to an individual. As such, it is Chac-Mool’s transformation from a boy to a man that makes his death possible. Medea criticizes Chac-Mool for reciting lines “rehearsed generations in advance and transmitted into your little male DNA” (Moraga 84). In Euripides’ Medea Jason makes broad generalizations about women, a role reversed by Moraga.
4. From “The Use of Space in Von Trier’s Medea”
Von Trier’s film begins with a strong scene that was not included in the original Medea. It sets up a dynamic between Jason and Medea that is lost in Euripides’ version by opening with abandonment. Jason stands tall on a ship while Medea struggles to stand in the water. Consider the ship that Jason stands upon; a ship is a powerful object used in warfare. This links it with masculine qualities, however, boats are referred to as “she”, detonating a feminine persona. Men are in control of these “female” objects and wield them in a masculine manner. This gives Jason a great power and a domineering personality before he even utters a word. It is obvious that Jason is leaving Medea on the beach. If we think of this scene in terms of the interior/exterior gender roles, Jason thrusts Medea into the outside and she is forced to take on a masculine role as well as a feminine one. By abandoning her, he is leaving her to take care of the children and the house, which Zeitlin considers to be a man’s property. “The house, let us now observe, is the property of the male… proprietor of its wealth and moveable goods and as a ruler over its inhabitants.” (354) With Jason gone, Medea is forced into the masculine role of proprietor. Von Trier shows the audience this by having Jason force her to deal with the outside. Setting her up to take a masculine role in a feminine situation of helplessness sets up Medea as a conflicted woman that is not present in Euripides’ version. When we first see her, she is surrounded by peacefully lapping water giving her a very feminine look as she stands facing Jason. Von Trier makes it appear as if Medea gets the power to stand from the water as it flows over her body. The ship cuts through the water as Jason cuts through Medea’s heart by abandoning her for Glauce. Audience members feel pity for Medea here, as opposed to in Euripides’ vengeful beginning with the nurse and tutor being fearful of Medea. Space and position within the setting is utilized in this scene to showcase Medea’s various roles.
