Reinterpreting Greek Myth
Excerpt from the unpublished book If Not, Why Not?
Freud gave the Oedipus story universal significance as a model for the Oepidus complex, a child’s unconscious desire for the opposite-sex parent and hate for the same-sex parent. Jung similarly adopted the Electra story as the model for the Electra complex, a girl’s competition with her mother for her father. So ancient Greek myths took on meaning in modern times that had nothing to do with their origin.
In stories about the kings of Mycenae and Sparta and about the kings of Thebes, tension arises between two principles of succession. These principles are never explicitly stated in the related works of literature — the Iliad, the Oresteia, Electra, and the Oedipus plays — but they can be extrapolated from the central conflicts.
Sometimes the throne passes from father to son on the death of the father. But often it passes instead to the next husband of the queen on the death of the king or to whomever marries the eldest daughter of the king, immediately upon the marriage. Often a reigning king deliberately delays or tries to prevent the marriage of his oldest daughter.
For example, Oenomaus, king of Pisa, sets up a chariot race between himself and any suitor for the hand of his daughter Hippodamia, with death the penalty for defeat. He kills 18 suitors that way before being defeated by Pelops, who immediately succeeds to the throne. That chariot race was the legendary origin of the Olympic Games. In some variants of this story, Oenomaus wanted his daughter for himself, which by this rule of succession, would have solidified his claim to the throne, with no concern about incest, which was no issue for the gods as well.
Similarly, many suitors gather to contend for the hand of Helen, daughter of Tyndareus, king of Sparta. Yes, she was reputed to be beautiful, but she also was the symbol of right to rule Sparta. When she marries Menelaus, Menelaus immediately becomes king, even though the previous king is still alive and well. And when Paris, prince of Troy, kidnaps/elopes with/runs off with Helen, the matter is treated not just as an instance of adultery. Rather, it is a matter of state, precipitating war between Troy and all the Greek states ruled by Helen’s former suitors. Apparently, if she is the symbol of power, loss of her puts at doubt the legitimacy of Menelaus’ reign.
When Agamemnon assembles an army to help his brother Menelaus recover his wife and hence his authority, he has to first deal with the legitimacy of his own reign. He inherited the throne of Mycenae from his father Atreus. But now he has a marriageable daughter, Iphigenia, who could be considered the symbol of authority. If Iphigenia should marry, her husband would have a claim to the throne. So Agamemnon announces that he is giving her to Achilles, his most likely rival, which would be tantamount to abdicating. But instead he sacrifices her, eliminating that threat to his authority.
In variants of that story, Iphigenia is saved by the gods at the last minute and transported to the distant land of Tauris, where she serves as a virgin priestess. Either way, she is no longer marriageable, and Agamemnon’s right to rule is not at question.
While Agamemnon is away, his wife Clytemnestra, sister of Helen, takes Aegisthus, cousin of Agamemnon, as a lover. On Agamemnon’s return, they murder him, and Aegisthus, marrying Clytemnestra, becomes king. Years later, Orestes and Electra, children of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, kill their mother and her lover. Eventually, after killing the son of Aegisthus, Orestes becomes king of Mycenae, which can be seen as him asserting his right of succession as the son of Agamemnon.
Orestes also marries his cousin Hermione, daughter of Menelaus and Helen, and hence becomes king of Sparta, though Menelaus is still alive. That can be seen as succession by marriage to the king’s daughter.
In Thebes, when King Laius dies, his widow Jocasta becomes the symbol of power. Oedipus, apparently an indigent stranger, wins her hand by solving the riddle of the Sphinx and hence becomes king. But, as it turns out, there is ambiguity in his right to rule, since he unwittingly killed the old king who was his father, and he is the heir to the throne by inheritance as well as by marriage to his mother.
When Oedipus and Jocasta die, their sons, Polynices and Eteocles, share rule until war breaks out between them and they kill one another (Seven Against Thebes). Then Antigone, as the eldest daughter of Oedipus, becomes the key figure in determining legitimacy.
Creon, brother of Jocasta, seizes the throne, but by the marriage-based rule of succession, Antigone is a threat to him. She is engaged to Creon’s son Haemon, and by the rule — but not explicitly stated in the play Antigone — Haemon would become king if and when he married her. Heamon and Creon come into conflict. Haemon nearly kills his father but instead kills himself. Antigone does not marry, leaving Creon to reign.
You would expect writers in the patrilinear Periclean age to distort the old stories to conform to patrilinear succession. Instead, they scrupulously preserved the tension between succession by the son and succession by marriage to the daughter or wife, which puts women and love and jealousy at center stage, together with greed and lust for power.
While these stories seem to have originated as examples of legal issues related to the right of succession, they were perpetuated because of their dramatic potential, rich with complex conflicts and ambivalent relationships. No wonder authors have returned to them for inspiration again and again for three thousand years. And no wonder Freud and Jung found them useful in describing what they concluded from their experience in dealing with twentieth century psychiatric patients.
