God Creates a World of Binaries Until Man Exists

In Genesis, a world is created on many pairs of items. In each pair, one item either opposes, or is deemed "good" (1) better than the other, which lacks the same modifier. For instance, He starts with the heavens and the earth; then He creates the opposing duos of night and day, light and darkness, evening and morning. God and humans present another hierarchical pair: God is more powerful than and must be obeyed by men and women. These binaries provide structure to the world, clarity for our understanding of the origins of what we experience every day.

This binary thinking, while useful in a rough perception of nature, is challenged when applied to humans, in the Adam and Eve story.  The first humans have the two options of eating from the tree of knowledge, thereby disobeying God and receiving the punishment of death, and keeping themselves from eating it, respecting God and living forever. Eve has committed the first deed and not the second. There exist the possibilities of living in or outside of the Garden of Eden, and they will be banished to the second. But this basic manner of thinking cannot apply to something so ephemeral as morals, and the author(s) must have been aware of this. For the most disobedient force was the snake; consequently it receives the worst punishment. The snake has a singular, simple, malicious motive. In Eve however, there are several sources of motivation: she believes the snake, she is hungry, and she desires the state of wisdom the snake claims the tree offers. Adam does not have the same motivations for eating from the tree of knowledge; he only has trust in his companion (2, 3). God is then forced to deviate from his binary treatment and create new categories, as his belligerent subjects represent to Him differing levels of moral turpitude. There now is God, supreme and to be obeyed, men, who disobey Him and receive adequate punishment, women, who disobey Him even more than men do and receive the same punishment plus that of childbirth, and the serpent, who commits the worst crime and receives the worst punishment.

The initial method of classifying items into two quickly loses applicability in Genesis. As soon as God or the author(s) attempt to define the origins of men and women, new levels of definition must be added. For as a text written by humans, the author(s) have a limited understanding of nature, and a far more complex one of mankind. Genesis describes the origins of the world with simplicity, in binaries, for we have so little in common with foreign creatures, plants, dirt, sea and sky; a text by, for and about humans, Genesis then must detail its definition of them.

Lysistrata's Scheme (Prompt 5)

Lysistrata tries to establish peace between the Greek poli by exploiting men's sexual desires. All the other women of "Lysistrata" at first have doubts whether her plan will work, and whether they are strong enough to participate. But after the women hear Lysistrata out and remind themselves of the hardships war causes them, they decide to work with her. Even though the women express cowardice in the beginning, and several find themselves giving in to their sexual desires later on, thereby undermining Lysistrata's efforts, they all nevertheless achieve mutually held goals. The women agree with Lysistrata's plan and carry it out with success.

On the other hand, the men disagree with Lysistrata's plan until the very end for two main reasons. (1) They doubt that peace can and should prevail. It is understandable that a world without war might be hard to imagine for the characters of "Lystistrata," especially the men, if they have spent many years at war without clear success. But by refusing to believe that peace could be established, the men demonstrate a lower level of intelligence next to their female counterparts, who do believe it. For by the end, Lysistrata and the other women prove the men wrong by doing what was unthinkable to them.

(2) The other reason that motivates - more so than their inability to foresee peace - the men to respond adversely to Lysistrata's scheme, is sexism. The men hate the idea and reality that the women manipulate them and gain power, even if it produces the universally acceptable result of peace. The women, however, understand their position in society to be inherently different than that of the men, but nevertheless equally vital. The rationale of sexism might seem completely inferior compared to the rationale of peace to the reader of today. But even if understood without knowledge of how the audience of "Lysistrata" might have treated the two genders, the men's chauvinism comes off as weak compared to the women's desire for order. For throughout the play, the male characters display themselves to be disorganized and inept. For instance, in preparation for an attack on the women, the men blow on coals for the fire to rise but repeatedly send smoke back into their faces (152). They are unprepared and unable to learn from their mistakes. And of course, ultimately, their notion that women cannot overpower men is refuted, as the women successfully manipulate them into establishing peace against their will. Contrary to what they believe, the men are in fact not as powerful as the women. But more than sexism's ultimate falseness, the hierarchy of the universal and timeless value for peace over violence succeeds in rejecting sexism. For instance, the argument between the Magistrate with his men and Lysistrata highlights this association of violence with sexism and peace with equality. When the Magistrate expresses surprise at the fact that the women triumph over his bowmen, Lysistrata says: "Did you think...that women couldn't have any stomach for a fight?" (159). The Magistrate responds to her rhetorical question with a joke, demonstrating his dedication to chauvinism: "They certainly do - any time a tavern-keeper tries to cheat them!" (159). This clash over gender differences is immediately followed by a clash of perspectives on war and peace in general, represented in the preceding skirmish. Stratyllis backs Lysistrata, claiming "we only want to stay demure at home doing no harm, disturbing not a twig" (159). The Men are then only able to respond by trying to get them to stop talking, thereby attempting to reassert their power: "Monsters, enough! Our patience now is gone" (159). The men's commitment to chauvinism keeps them from accepting peace; the women's dedication to peace leads them to refute sexism and rule in the world of "Lysistrata". By associating the men with failed sexism and violence, as well as the women with prevailing gender equality and peace, the "Lysistrata" upholds the main character's scheme over the men's.

The Role of Alcibiades in the Symposium (Prompt 4)

Alcibiades contrasts with the other men at the symposium in many ways. Clearly, Alcibiades differs from the others in manner: drunk, he makes an emotional, confused and insulting speech. Meanwhile, the other men at the symposium have decided to refrain from heavy drinking in order to share insights in respectful, sober conversation.

Parallel to the respective behaviors of Alcibiades and the other men of the Symposium are the directions of their speeches. Phaedrus, Aristodemus, Pausanias, Socrates, Agathon, Aristophanes and Eryximachus have dedicated their symposium to the understanding and praise of Love. Each gives his own opinion of what Love is and how one should praise him, adding on to or modifying the view of another. For they share the common goal of making sense of the foreign and praise-worthy concept of Love. Alcibiades, however, does not have the same aim in his speech. Sharing his simultaneous "praise" and "reproach" of Socrates, Alcibiades haphazardly admits a range of personal emotions to his audience rather than answer a philosophical question (75). The relative aimlessness of Alcibiades' speech, next to the other men's, can be assumed to have resulted from an intoxicated state of mind. But it also reflects Alcibiades' comparably foolish decision to get drunk: he prefers the vulgar pleasures of alcohol, as well as the weakened mental state it entails, to his peers' sober search for an answer to a philosophical question, and the enlightened state to which it leads.

This lack of direction in Alcibiades' speech, foiled against the preceding speeches of the men at the symposium, points to inferiority in him as valuing vacancy over enlightenment. The subjects themselves that Alcibiades addresses - his disdain and love of Socrates - further highlight his deficiency. While the men of the Symposium speak of Love, a god who resides above men and enables their success, Alcibiades discusses Socrates - though a great philosopher, a single mortal man. Thus, Alcibiades focuses on a much more low-level topic than his peers. For in the world of the Symposium, value is placed on large, meaningful concepts over individual mortals. For example, one who truly loves beauty pursues it in all its forms, not just in one body, as Socrates claims Diotima says, just before Alcibiades' speech. "A lover...should love one body and beget beautiful ideas there; then he should realize that the beauty of any one body is brother to the beauty of any other...When he grasps this, he must become a  lover of all beautiful bodies, and he must think that this wild gaping after just one body is a small thing and despise it" (57-58). Diotima then proceeds to say that the pursuit of beauty in all bodies is then a 'small thing' compared to beauty in its essence, or in all its forms. Alcibiades, revealing his emotions towards one man, Socrates, is caught up at a primary level then, according to Diotima. By placing Alcibiades' speech after Diotima lays out what should be valued and what should not, the Symposium encourages the reader to understand him as inferior to the other men, in that he values the individual mortal over the immortal concept.

The Purpose of the Introductory Dialogue (Prompt 1)

In Plato's Symposium, several philosophers have a friendly conversation about the significance of the god Love. A man named Aristodemus once relayed this discussion to Apollodorus who does the same in the Symposium to another man named Glaucon. Finally, Plato passes on the same ideas to the reader via the Symposium. Thus, the meaning of Love at the core of the Symposium is interpreted by philosophers, then Aristodemus, then Apollodorus, then Plato, then us. This multitude of frames around an idea of truth about Love points to the importance of interpretation in the Symposium.

Each thinker - Phaedrus, Pausanius, Eryximachus, Aristophanes, Agathon, Socrates, Diotima, Alcibiades - has his own opinion of the nature of Love. Each man's view of Love may have components of another's, for they agree on certain points, but is in its entirety unique. The distinctive nature of each philosopher's thoughts on Love often motivates them to reject each other's ideas or modify parts of their own. Nevertheless, each philosopher remains convinced of a unique, composite view on Love.

Thus, we begin with multiple, varied interpretations of the same concept of Love. In relaying such views to Glaucon, Aristodemus and Apollodorus can both be assumed to influence them: it is highly doubtful that they remembers each man's speech, especially if the conversation took place years ago when they were all "still children" (2). Plato, then, has the ability to alter Apollodorus' version and Arisodemus' version as well as all the ideas of the philosophers. As readers, we have the freedom to accept or reject (parts of) Plato's ideas about Apollodorus' ideas about Aristodemus' ideas about the philosophers' ideas.

This filtering of ideas ideas through various interpretations - that the Symposium emphasizes so with multiple layers and the Introductory Dialogue - does not insinuate that there is no one true essence of Love. It rather suggests that one meaning of Love (and of any subject, for that matter) is unattainable, and that all Love can do for us is found in these honorable attempts to understand it. The process of comprehension - not the arrival at one definition - is the focus of the Symposium.

In Apollodorus' story in the Introductory Dialogue, one character Agathon seats himself next to Socrates so that he "may catch a bit of the wisdom that came to (him)" (5). But Sophocles responds: "How wonderful it would be, dear Agathon, if the foolish were filled with wisdom simply by touching the wise" (5). The physical action of 'touching' is not enough to gain wisdom; it takes thought and time. Similarly, the meaning of Love cannot be simply transmitted to the philosophers, then Aristodemus, Apollodorus, Plato and us. Meaning, like wisdom, is ephemeral, existing only in men's attempts to attain it.

The Role of Aegeus in "The Medea" (Prompt 8)

If you were thinking Medea's simply crazy or a horrible person, the interaction between her and Aegeus might be one of several moments in the play that would make you reconsider. For Aegeus proves such a kind and understanding character that we cannot but seeing the same qualities in Medea as long as they are "old friend(s)" (80). Aegeus genuinely cares about how Medea feels; he sympathizes with her, offers her advice and help in the form of a place of refuge. Especially against Medea's unfaithful husband Jason, Aegeus appears kind: he is a faithful friend and does not treat her as a barbarian like Aegeus does. At this point, we do know Medea to be violent and not completely truthful, hiding her plans from Aegeus and her future victims, but we can also see positive qualities in her personality: she values marriage, her children, and faithfulness, and she can think for herself and defy gender roles. The close friendship between Medea and Aegeus only makes her more likable.

The fact that Aegeus is not only a nice man but King of Athens is also significant. We know that the Athenian audience would have liked and respected the character of Aegeus just like they would in real life. That such a trustworthy, highly-regarded character can not only associate with Medea, but support her and sympathize with her, would have made the audience wonder if they should do the same just as it made me. Aegeus says, "Indeed, Medea, your grief was understandable" (83). When Medea tells Aegeus she will be exiled from Corinth, Aegeus responds with astonishment: "Banished? By whom? Here you tell me of a new wrong" (83).When Aegeus sees Medea, he is unaware of her plans to murder her family, the princess and her father in order to spite her husband Jason. But if not only Medea herself and the Chorus, but the King of Athens - whose opinion we are supposed to trust - all think her grief is "understandable" and her impending exile "wrong," then it is highly unclear how we should think of Medea. She is at once a devious, ruthless murderer and an unlucky, mistreated, sane woman.

Clytemnestra and Athena (Prompt 8)

Both Clytemnestra and Athena are exceptional women in that they deviate from common roles of female goddesses and mortals. As the goddess of war, Athena is imbued with characteristics more often associated with male characters. But Athena, unlike Clytemnestra, is accepted and even revered because she embodies only positive characteristics associated with women and men.

Clytemnestra is, of course, imbued with the deviousness associated with many other female characters in Ancient Greek literature (Calypso, Circe, Hera, Aphrodite). But her acquisition of certain "male" traits and abandonment of certain "female" traits is the last straw for Clytemnestra.

A willingness to avenge the wrongly dead (as we see in her son Orestes) takes over Clytemnestra and even leads her to hold and use a sword, unlike any other woman. The unfaithfulness we see when Agamemnon arrives in his chariot with another woman has also been adopted by Clytemnestra, with Aegisthus.

One trait associated with femininity Clytemnestra abandons is submissiveness. She refuses to appease Agamemnon after killing Iphigenia, even though that was considered necessary. Clytemnestra also relinquishes all motherly qualities, highlighting her distance from Orestes, which adds justification to his matricide. Apollo claims, "The mother is no parent of that which is called / her child, but only nurse of the new-planted seed / that grows" (158). By shedding herself of the roles of mother and wife, as well as by assuming the role of an avenger, Clytemnestra rebels and later receives an adequate punishment for non-conformity. Clytemnestra and Athena are similar in their atypical combination of female and male characteristics. But while the most acceptable traits of both genders manifest themselves in Athena, the least acceptable characteristics present themselves in Clytemnestra.

A Revealing Final Conversation (Prompt 5)

In "The Libation Bearers," both Orestes and his mother, Clytemnestra, experience a range of revealing emotions before their imminent conflict.

Even though Apollo has encouraged Orestes to avenge his father and ensured his safety from punishment, Clytemnestra's son still has doubt. In the last minute, Orestes needs extra assurance of his friend, asking "What shall I do, Pylades? Be shamed to kill my mother" (124). For even though Apollo, as well as Pylades and the Chorus see Orestes' revenge as necessary and just, he has also to fathom the law against matricide and its curse. Orestes is conflicted, not only because of his horrible duty, but because of two forces that cannot be reconciled. Nevertheless, Orestes later gains the courage to carry out the deed with dignity: "Yes, this is death, your wages for my fathers fate" (126). Orestes must leave behind qualms, and instead choose a side and justify it. Orestes is an impulsive, uncertain character.

Clytemnestra shows a greater range of emotions than Orestes - not just from hesitant to certain. Clytemnestra first is portrayed as weak, sad and motherly: "Oh take pity, child, before this breast / where many a time, a drowsing baby, you would feed" (124). Clytemnestra's technique moves from innocent and miserable, to somewhat guilty and logical, partially blaming "destiny" for Agamemnon's death (125). As death approaches, Clytemnestra changes her manner to angry and cold: "Take care. Your mother's curse, like dogs, will drag you down" (126). As Clytemnestra's death becomes more and more apparent, she almost becomes less fearful. Clytemnestra's motherly and innocent affectations fade, while she accepts more and more blame for killing Agamemnon. As well, Clytemnestra's feeling of distance from her Orestes turns into a feeling of hatred for him. In her last conversation with Orestes, as Clytemnestra accepts fate feelings of hatred for her son and pride in the murder of her husband are expressed.