Perspectives on Violence in Euripides&rsquo

22 Pages·0.511 MB·English

by  Simon Perris

Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57 brill.nl/mnem
Perspectives on Violence in Euripides’ Bacchae
Simon Perris
Victoria University of Wellington, Classics Programme, Box 600, Wellington 6140,
New Zealand
[email protected]
Received: April 2009; accepted: May 2009
Abstract
This paper examines the treatment of violence in Euripides’ Bacchae, particularly
in spoken narrative. Bacchae is essentially a drama about violence, and the mes-
senger-speeches establish a dialectic between spectacle and suffering as different
conceptions of, and reactions to, violence. The ironic deployment of imagery and
allusion, particularly concerning Pentheus’ body and head, presents violence as
ambiguous. The exodos then provides a model of compassion, in which knowl-
edge of guilt does not preclude sympathy, nor does ambivalence towards violence.
Finally, it is concluded that the paradoxical humanitas of this Dionysiac tragedy
is grounded in its presentation of violence as a source first of pleasure, then of
pain, allowing spectators to be both entertained and shocked.
Keywords
Euripides, Bacchae, violence, messenger-speeches
Das Theater mit seinen realen Körpern vor einem öffentlichen Publikum ist
eine Form, für die die Frage der Darstellung von Gewalt immer von beson-
derer Bedeutung ist. (~ Simon Goldhill)1)
Greek tragedy is violent in the extreme. “It reeks of blood and is strewn
with corpses.”2) Witness, then, the aesthetically productive paradox
1) Goldhill 2006, 168.
2) Henrichs 2000, 173. Bremer (1976, 36-42) surveys the arguments; also Macintosh
1994, 126-57. Onstage deaths in extant τραγῳδία: Alcestis and Hippolytus; possibly Ajax
and Euripides’ Suppliants (Evadne).
© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011 DOI: 10.1163/156852511X505024
38 S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57
underpinning Greek tragedy’s unique brand of formalism: although it
eschews onstage death, Greek tragic drama is fundamentally concerned
with the spectacle—or spectre—of violence. Indeed, as Macintosh has
shown, death is central to Greek tragedy, not as a moment but as a pro-
cess. “[T]o speak of an absence of death from the Greek stage is clearly
misleading: death in tragedy is a culmination, not an ending . . . For if
death is recognised as a dramatic process, we have indeed many ‘deaths on
stage’ in extant Greek tragedy.”3)
The following, then, proposes a reading of Bacchae in which this ‘pro-
cess’ of death specifically involves a response to violence, despite—or
rather, because of—the ‘low body count’, as it were. Note, by way of illus-
tration, marked use of ὕβρις, ἐργάζεσθαι, and αἰκία; and in particular,
more instances of ὕβρις and its cognates than in any other extant tragedy
except Ajax.4) This play is concerned not only with theatre or with ritual;
it is about human agents committing violent acts against one another.
Bacchae is no more violent than, say, Antigone, or Choephori, or
Phoenissae, or Aristophanes for that matter; what is unique is the degree
and manner of emphasis, and the range of implicated responses.5) To my
mind, nothing better represents the violent nature of Greek tragedy than
the gruesome image of Agaue mindlessly holding aloft Pentheus’ disem-
bodied head in supposed triumph. Further, nothing better represents
Greek tragedy’s preoccupation with violence than the second messenger’s
detailed, gruesome description of sparagmos. If Bacchae exemplifies Greek
tragedy, it does so not only through ritual or metatheatre, but also
through the tragic processes of violence and death.
Threats, suggestions, and hints of violence in Bacchae establish an
expectation of physical violence: a false expectation of the sort of martial
3) Macintosh 1994, 142 and passim.
4) Ajax contains fourteen instances, Bacchae twelve: 9, 113, 247, 375, 516, 555, 616, 743,
779, 1297, 1311, 1347. Fisher (1992, 443-51) adds two possibilities for the second
lacuna, from Christus Patiens 1362 and 1664/1663, with the emendation <λόγων
ὑβρίσματα>. ἐργάζεσθαι and compounds: 492, 1039, 1199, 1243, 1245 (del. Diggle);
Chr. Pat. 1639-40 as in Willink 1966. Ba. 1374 is the only Euripidean instance of αἰκία;
αἰκίσματα Ph. 1529, αἰκίζεται Med. 1130, Or. 388.
5) Henrichs 2000, 187: Aegisthus’ death in Electra is “arguably the most graphic account
of a homicide in the extant plays of Euripides”. Primavesi (2006) takes Bacchae as the
basis for an essay on the Gewalt der Darstellung in classical performance reception.
S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57 39
narrative found, for example, in Helen or Seven Against Thebes, foreshad-
owing but also occluding Pentheus’ ultimate demise. He threatens impris-
onment (503, 505, 509-14), beheading (239-41), strangling (246-7),
stoning (356-7), ritual sacrifice (796-7), and other punishment (674-6,
793). None of these threats are carried out, at least not by Pentheus him-
self; Dionysus, θεὸς γεγώς, is physically inviolate, while his antagonist,
θεομάχος and resolutely mortal, is not. What is more, Pentheus threatens
military action (780-5, 809). As March has shown, Bacchae alludes to ver-
sions of the myth in which Pentheus engages the maenads in armed con-
flict, so as to elicit the suspenseful expectation of a different sort of
violence before offering its own unexpected, brutal conclusion.6) When
Dionysus claims that he can bring the women back without weapons
(804), Pentheus’ prevaricating, arguably metatheatrical response questions
whether or not Bacchae will follow the strand of myth in which an armed
Pentheus fights the maenads: ‘I’m going: either I will go armed, or I will
follow your advice’ (845-6). Ultimately, he suffers an inversion of his own
violent threats, decapitated after a kind of stoning (1096-7) presented as
military defeat cum ritual sacrifice.
On the other hand, Bacchae offers two extended treatments of actual
physical violence: the messenger-speeches. Although superficially factual,
Euripidean messenger-speeches are not free from narratorial influence.7)
Given the dramaturgical necessity of messenger-speeches per se,8) the rhe-
torical colouring of the messenger-speeches in Bacchae—particularly their
presentation of violence—is crucial. It is in these two balanced narratives
that Dionysus’ power is manifest: violence evokes first wonder, then
shock. The first contradicts Pentheus’ false assumptions about maenad-
ism, bearing (eye-)witness to Dionysus’ power. The second responds with
a more complete account of sparagmos. The spectacle of violence is fol-
lowed, inevitably, by the pathos of violence.
The first messenger-speech (677-774) negates a series of false assump-
tions (explicit and implicit) about maenadism, which is evidently not
6) March 1989, 37-43. Cf. Macleod 2006 on the relationship between Pentheus’ supposed
military intentions and the messengers’ narratives.
7) Di Gregorio 1967; de Jong 1991, 1992; Buxton 1991; Barrett 2002, esp. 102-31 on
Bacchae. Contrast, e.g., Bremer 1976, 46.
8) Cf. Bremer 1976; Henrichs 2000, 177; de Jong 1992, 583 on the second messenger’s
narrative.
40 S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57
what Pentheus imagines it to be; hence the messenger’s pointed counter-
factual assertions about what Pentheus would have seen had he been pres-
ent (712-13, 737-40). An extended sequence of counter-assertions
illustrates this agenda: οὐχ ὡς σὺ φῄς (686); οὐδ’ ἔκαιεν (758); τοῖς μὲν
γὰρ οὐχ ᾕμασσε . . . κεῖναι δέ (761-2); the adjective ἀσίδηρος (736); οὐκ
ἄνευ θεῶν τινος (764).9) In a marked example of such negation, Dionysus
remarks to Pentheus that he will find their chastity παρὰ λόγον (‘surpris-
ing’, 940). This first messenger-speech reveals the women to be neither
unchaste nor drunk (685-8), impervious to fire (758) and weapons (761);
they dismember cattle without iron (736, foreshadowing 1205-6), inflict-
ing female violence on men with thyrsoi (762-4), thus becoming like male
warriors,10) all with divine approval (764).
The messenger’s successful aim here is to prove Dionysus’ power and
thereby prove Pentheus wrong; hence the injunction δέχου πόλει τῇδ’
(770), and the chorus’ fearful assertion, ∆ιόνυσος ἥσσων οὐδενὸς θεῶν
ἔφυ (777). Afraid of Pentheus’ reaction to such contradiction (670-1), the
messenger begins in oblique, obsequious fashion, unlike the second mes-
senger’s prosaic address to the chorus at 1043. Pentheus, then, acts as
sceptical interlocutor, first asking, ἥκεις δὲ ποίαν προστιθεὶς σπουδὴν
λόγου; (‘You’ve come to tell me something. Why so eager?’, 663).11) The
messenger responds by accounting for his σπουδή. That is, by narrating
what he has witnessed in such a way as to prove that δεινὰ δρῶσι
θαυμάτων τε κρείσσονα (‘they are performing miracles beyond wonder’,
667).
9) Macleod 2006, 578: in negating Pentheus’ assumptions, this speech argues that “Pen-
theus should accept the god”.
10) Note the emphatic juxtaposition γυναῖκες ἄνδρας (764). Cf. Seaford 1996, ad 762-4
on the motif of maenads becoming like male warriors.
11) Roux 1970-1972, ad loc.: Pentheus’ ἥκεις, “sur un ton sarcastique”, relates also to the
very fact of the messenger’s arrival, as servants can only leave their post “en cas de force
majeure”. Compare the guard at S. Ant. 223-44. Citing Hecuba 130 (σπουδαὶ λόγων,
‘earnest discussions’), Dodds (1960, ad loc.), followed verbatim by Kovacs (2002), trans-
lates ‘And what weighty message do you bring?’ William Arrowsmith translates ‘Get to the
point. / What is your message, man?’ Roux 1970-1972, ad loc.: “littéralement «tu viens
nous présentant quel empressement de discours?».” Compare σπουδῇ ποδός (‘speed of
foot’) at E. Hec. 216.
S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57 41
This is signposted to some extent by narrative present verbs (so-called
‘historic presents’),12) the function of which, in tragic messenger-speeches
at least, is what I term selective differentiation: messengers use the narrative
present selectively as a marked, distinct, secondary tense.13) “The primary
function of the HP [historic present] is to lift out from their context those
narrative assertions that are essential for what the speaker has stated to be
his immediate concern. . . . In some cases (for example, in the messenger
speeches) it is the addressee’s specific need for information that is decisive
for the speaker’s selection of HP events.”14) In Bacchae, the first messenger
states explicitly his immediate concern: ‘to tell of miracles beyond won-
der’. Present-tense verbs in the narrative proper manifest this concern,
responding to Pentheus’ sceptical need for information with eye-witness
eagerness: ὁρῶ (‘I saw’, 680); ἐκπηδᾶι (‘leapt forth’, 705); χωροῦσι (‘they
rushed’, 748).15)
Given the narrator’s aim (to recount strange and wonderful events), he
selectively differentiates events which demonstrate Dionysus’ power; his
narrative is one of spectacle. The first narrative present verb ὁρῶ empha-
sises his eye-witness status.16) At 705, ἐκπηδᾶι differentiates the first
12) Following Sicking and Stork (1997, 166), I prefer ‘narrative present’ to ‘historic
present’.
13) Kühner and Gerth 1890-1904, I 132; Smyth 1956, §1883; de Jong 1991, 38-45; Sick-
ing and Stork 1997; Rijksbaron 2002, §7, and 2006. Allan (2007 and fc.) argues that
narrative present verbs in messenger-speeches mark the ‘immediate diegetic’ narrative
mode and exhibit one of three features: (1) marking ‘Peak’ sections, (2) marking dra-
matic moments in the ‘Complication’, or (3) punctuating a narrative by indicating the
beginning of the ‘Complication’ (which somehow disturbs the stability of the opening
framework). Drawing on Labov 1972, 362-70 and Fleischman 1990, 135-54, Allan
divides ‘the global structure of narrative’ as follows: Abstract, Orientation, Peak, Resolu-
tion, Coda, ‘Evaluation’.
14) Sicking and Stork 1997, 165. Compare Allan fc., in which narrative present verbs are
connected with tellability or reportability, that is, with standards by which narratives are
judged and constructed.
15) Following editorial tradition, de Jong (1991, 42 n. 115) favours the narrative present
κυρεῖ, whereas Rijksbaron (2006, 146-7) argues that κυρει (i.e. ΚΥΡΕΙ) should be read
with the MSS (L and P) as the unaugmented imperfect κύρει, suggesting the same read-
ing at E. El. 777. This assumes that stative verbs never occur in the narrative present, on
which see Rijksbaron 2002, §7.3 n. 1.
16) Roux 1970-1972, ad loc.: “en tête du vers, [ὁρῶ] exprime la soudaineté de la
découverte”.
42 S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57
supernatural event in the episode—the spontaneous appearance of a fresh-
water spring—as essential to the speaker’s discursive strategy. After the
cattle-sparagmos, χωροῦσι (748) inaugurates the attack proper, punctuat-
ing the narrative by indicating the beginning of the ‘Complication’ sec-
tion. This is an ‘essential narrative element’ inasmuch as it marks the
moment at which the women initiate battle, which is precisely what the
men (and Pentheus himself) fail to do. Moreover, the narrative concerns
the spectacle of physical violence. In the first instance, the cattle-
sparagmos foreshadows, in some detail, Pentheus’ gruesome demise. In the
second instance, at a moment marked as a turning point, the narrator
denotes miraculous violence, and miraculous invulnerability, as a ‘sight to
see’ (θέαμ’ ἰδεῖν, 760). Yet this spectacle of women wounding men is itself
of little import, for at 765-6, immediately after committing violence on
members of their erstwhile community, the Theban women return to the
thiasos. Only when Agaue is directly confronted with the face ( prosôpon)
of tragic violence does she fully understand its nature.
In the second messenger-speech (1043-152), then, the violence already
inflicted on livestock and villagers is inflicted on Pentheus himself, with
the narrative constructed in such a way as to argue that the manner of
death—sparagmos—deserves sadness rather than celebration. In that
respect, violent spectacle in the first messenger’s narrative is answered by
violent suffering in the second messenger’s narrative,17) “in which once
again hostile males concealing themselves on the mountainside will cause
peaceful maenads to inflict sparagmos . . . The change (to violence) occurs
because they are attacked.”18)
This masterly narrative is preceded by a key passage in which the impa-
tient eastern Bacchants request a narration of Pentheus’ death from the
newly-arrived messenger.19) The messenger, aptly described by one critic
17) Taplin 1978, 57: lines 657-9 indicate Dionysus’ foreknowledge in ‘arranging’ the mes-
senger’s narrative, and the first messenger-speech as a whole “foreshadows Pentheus’ own
ambush and destruction fairly precisely”. de Jong 1992, 574: this first messenger-speech is
one of Dionysus’ indirect hints to Pentheus to change his mind.
18) Seaford 1996, ad 677-774. Macleod (2006) argues that the first messenger offers Pen-
theus two possible outcomes in miniature: sparagmos or battle. Cf. 845-6. de Jong (1992,
574) characterises the townsmen’s defeat as sparagmos.
19) Goldhill (2006, 157) and Verdegem (2001, 12) identify this speech as a masterpiece
of tragic narrative.
S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57 43
as “distressed”,20) predictably expresses mourning for the house of Cad-
mus, whereupon the chorus break out in triumphant, excited, lyric (doch-
miac) celebration.21) This echoes the recently-concluded stasimon, sung
almost entirely in dochmiacs, in which the chorus proleptically envisioned
the sparagmos, dehumanising Pentheus as both autochthonous and mon-
strous (that is, as the child of a lioness or Gorgon). Note the change from
iambics at 1029 to dochmiacs at 1031 after Pentheus’ death is announced,
and note also forms of χαίρειν at 1033 and 1040: having excitedly called
for vengeance on their ‘inhuman’ foe, the chorus excitedly celebrate the
demise of this foe. In turn, the messenger (still in iambics) twice criticises
their response, indicating his own rhetorical position: ἦ ’πὶ τοῖς ἐμοῖς /
χαίρεις κακῶς πράσσουσι δεσπόταις, γύναι; (1032-3); συγγνωστὰ μέν
σοι, πλὴν ἐπ’ ἐξειργασμένοις / κακοῖσι χαίρειν, ὦ γυναῖκες, οὐ καλόν
(1039-40). At this point, the chorus (still in dochmiacs) react with
increased eagerness for an account of Pentheus’ death: ἔνεπέ μοι, φράσον
τίνι μόρῳ θνῄσκει / ἄδικος ἄδικά τ’ ἐκπορίζων ἀνήρ (1041-2).22) This is
not unique, of course. Medea, for example, responds in similar fashion
(Med. 1127-35); the messenger questions her positive reaction; and her
response is to claim that she will be twice as happy if her antagonists are
horribly (παγκάκως) dead. As these messengers point out, Schadenfreude
is out of the question for a servant whose masters fare badly.23)
20) Verdegem 2001, 12.
21) Cf. Dodds 1960 and Seaford 1996, ad 1031: excited dochmiacs alternate with iambics
in 1031-8 (construing 1031 and 1037 as dochmiacs); Dodds notes a similar occurence at
Ph. 1335-41. Dale 1948, 107-8: among other emotional states, dochmiacs can express
“excitement, occasionally triumph or joy”. Dodds 1960, ad loc.: dochmiac is the metre of
“maximum excitement”.
22) Evert van Emde Boas (personal correspondence) suggests that φράσον introduces an
indirect question, with the aorist imperative, complete in aspect, ordering a ‘complete’ act
of narration. Diggle (1994) punctuates with a semicolon after φράσον and a question-
mark after ἀνήρ; Kovacs (2002) retains the direct question with a comma after φράσον.
Cf., e.g., Hdt. 3.74.3-75.1 for the distinction between ἀγορεῦσαι (‘say that X is the
case’) and ἀγορεύειν (‘start speaking’).
23) Dodds (1960, ad loc.) reads δεσπόταις (‘my masters’) as a generalising plural, but the
possessive ἐμοῖς surely precludes this reading. δεσπότης is used plural for singular else-
where in Euripides, e.g. IT 1421, Hel. 1630, Andr. 391. Alc. 212 offers a parallel: Weber
(1930, ad loc.) interprets δεσπόταις ἐμοῖς as ‘Herrschaft’; Conacher (1988) translates ‘for
my masters’. Following Roux (1970-1972) and Seaford (1996), pace Kovacs (2002),
I interpret ἐμοῖς . . . δεσπόταις at Ba. 1032-3 as denoting Pentheus and Agaue.
44 S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57
Yet the Bacchae chorus-members are the most impatient of Euripidean
addressees. “Leur invitation pressante (deux impératifs) introduit de façon
très naturelle le récit du serviteur.”24) This appears to be the only such pas-
sage in extant tragedy in which two imperative verbs of speech prompt a
messenger’s narrative.25) Under Bakker’s model of the imperative, the pres-
ent orders an action in the ‘here and now’ of the speaker, while the aorist
explains this action.26) In line with the orthodox premise that the aorist
aspect denotes ‘complete’ states of affairs and the present ‘incomplete,’27)
and assuming that the chorus here order the messenger to begin speaking,
ἔνεπε denotes ‘fire away’, as does, for example, λέγε in Plato and the ora-
tors. The force of φράσον, particularly if construed with an indirect ques-
tion, is, like εἰπέ in Plato, ‘tell me this one thing . . .’28) ‘Tell me! That is,
tell me how Pentheus died.’29)
24) Roux 1970-1972, ad loc.
25) Single present imperative: S. Ant. 1174; E. Andr. 1084, HF 920, IT 1325, Hel. 602,
Ph. 1076, 1355, Or. 863, 1393, Ba. 672, IA 1539 (preceded by prohibitive μὴ μέλλε).
Single aorist imperative: A. Pers. 333, 350, 439, 478, Th. 810, Supp. 603; S. El. 679, Tr.
671, Ph. 341; E. Med. 1133-4, Heracl. 881, Hipp. 1171, Hec. 517, Supp. 649, Ph. 1088.
Ion 1119 with aorist infinitive (πῶς; ἀντιάζω σ’ ἱκέτις ἐξειπεῖν τάδε). At Pr. 193-6, three
imperatives prompt a spoken narrative from Prometheus. Cf. the Homeric formula ἀλλ’
ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον (e.g. Il. 10.384).
26) Cf. Bakker 1966, 54 on Aj. 371 ὦ πρὸς θεῶν ὕπεικε καὶ φρόνησον εὖ (‘By the gods,
give in and have some sense’): ὕπεικε “sounds quite emotional”, whereas φρόνησον εὖ “is
not meant as a command at all, but tries to express more clearly what the present ὕπεικε
implies”.
27) Rijksbaron 2002, §1; Ruijgh 1985, 9-10. Sicking (1991) attempts to reconcile the
three main models of the aorist/present stem distinction: i) punctual versus durative,
ii) complete versus incomplete, and iii) that proposed by Bakker (1966, 31-66), who
argues that the weaker aorist imperative orders a state of affairs unrelated to the ‘here and
now’, and that the stronger present imperative relates the state of affairs to the ‘here and
now’ in the speaker’s mind. Bakker essentially treats the present imperative as the impera-
tive of emotion and impatience.
28) Rijksbaron (2000, 151-70) argues that in Plato’s Gorgias and Philebus, λέγε is infective
(‘fire away’), continuous (‘carry on’), or iterative (‘answer a series of questions’), whereas
εἰπέ = ‘tell me this one thing’. Likewise, Rijksbaron (2002, §16.2) distinguishes between
ἐρώτα (‘Ask me some questions’) and ἐροῦ (‘Ask me this one question’).
29) If we interpret these imperatives as ordering continuation, we might turn to Bakker’s
(1966, 35-43) alternative hypothesis: when referring to a state of affairs already under way,
the aorist imperative does not indicate simple continuation (for which a present impera-
S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57 45
At any rate, the chorus is impatient to know precisely how Pentheus
died. In Derek Mahon’s translation, the chorus “avidly” asks, “Tell us the
details; how did Pentheus die?”30) Having celebrated Pentheus’ death at
1011-23, they request detailed description with the present verb θνῄσκει
(‘he died’, 1041), which I should like to term an interrogative present: a
present-tense verb in a question referring to a state of affairs in past time.
When a tragic narrator summarises an event before narrating it, subse-
quent questions posed by the addressee using interrogative present verbs
tend to indicate a request for elaboration, not unadorned fact.31) At
Electra 772-3 and Hecuba 695, for example, the addressee first learns of
an antagonist’s death, then asks how using a present indicative in place of
the unmarked aorist.32) Contrast Bacchae 1294, where Agaue requests
unadorned information, as opposed to elaboration, with an unmarked
aorist: τίνι τρόπῳ κατήραμεν; (‘How did we kill him?’). Cadmus’ terse
reply neither interrupts the stichomythia nor in fact constitutes a particu-
larly good answer: ἐμάνητε, πᾶσά τ’ ἐξεβακχεύθη πόλις (‘You went mad,
and the whole city joined the revels’).33) Rijksbaron, for one, suggests that
the present tense at Bacchae 1041 “may indicate that the Chorus consider
Pentheus’ death of great importance for their own situation”.34) The
tive is regular), but interrupts, ordering swift conclusion. In particular: “The aorist imper-
ative may give the impression of meaning ‘stop being busy and bring this action to a
conclusion’ exactly because the person to whom it is directed is trying to perform or not
really performing the action ordered” (37). In the passage under discussion, this would
suggest that the force of the present imperative is ‘Go on, keep talking’, while that of the
aorist imperative is ‘Come on, tell me properly’.
30) Mahon 1991, 47.
31) Rijksbaron 2006, 130.
32) Sicking and Stork 1997, 139: the force of διόλλυται at S. El. 679 may be deictic,
pointing to Clytemnestra’s personal investment in Orestes’ death, unlike her dismissive
attitude to Electra’s grief. Likewise, at E. El. 772, Electra wishes to learn how Aegisthus
died. At S. Tr. 748, Deianeira asks Hyllus to justify his allegations (‘Where did you
approach him and stand with him?’) and he attempts to prove them. Cf. Rijksbaron
2002, §6 for the aorist as unmarked narrative past tense (complete aspect).
33) Roux 1970-1972 and Seaford 1996, ad loc.: Cadmus’ claim is true only of the female
population (cf. 35-6, 195-6).
34) Rijksbaron 1991, 135-6, noting that the imperfect has a different effect, as at Pl. Phd.
57a6 (καὶ πῶς ἐτελεύτα;). It is often claimed that present tenses of verbs like θνήισκειν
and κτείνειν can be perfective (‘to be dead,’ ‘to be the killer of’); the examples cited above
46 S. Perris / Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 37-57
chorus themselves assert as much at 1035 and 1037-8: Dionysus, not
Thebes, is their master; they no longer fear imprisonment. In their request
for elaboration, then, they manifest single-minded concentration on the
question at hand, a question marked by an interrogative present. For
them, at least, tragic death is a dramatic process (as Macintosh might have
it) worthy of elaborate description.
It must be acknowledged that such a request for detail, including the
‘How did he die?’ question, is far from unique. There is a recognisable
pattern to the reception of unwelcome news-reports in Greek tragedy, and
Mills (1981, 132) outlines the formula as follows: 1) the reporting figure
makes a general statement of disaster, 2) the addressee asks what has hap-
pened, 3) the speaker sums up the disaster, 4) the addressee requests
detail, often with an accompanying expression of grief, 5) the speaker
delivers a rhêsis proper, and 6) a display of the corpse(s) is usually made.
On the one hand, then, questions of the type ‘How did he die?’ merely
represent the fourth element in this formula, constituting a logical, dra-
maturgically useful prompt for an extended spoken narrative. In that
sense, ‘Tell me how he died’ might be interpreted, in a meta-theatrical
sense, as ‘It is now time for a messenger-speech’. On the other hand, how-
ever, the particular interaction in Bacchae between chorus and reporting
figure is highly marked in its detail: the chorus’ emphatically partisan sta-
tus, commented upon by the messenger; the excited lyric response; the
two imperatives; and the interrogative present θνῄσκει.
The antagonistic chorus presents a negative paradigm of voyeuristic
pleasure in violence for its own sake, a paradigm which is later repudiated
when the chorus expresses sympathy for Cadmus—after learning the
manner of Pentheus’ death. This suggests a dialectic between, on the one
hand, victorious, celebratory (lyric) eagerness, motivated by loyalty to
Dionysus, and on the other, mourning and disdain for Schadenfreude,
motivated by loyalty to one’s masters. So Buxton (1991, 44): “The News-
bringer [sic] has a quasi-choral authority, quietly but firmly distancing
himself from the actual chorus’ partiality”. Responding to the vengeful
chorus members’ request for detail, the messenger also reacts against their
are confective. Seaford (1996, ad 2) nevertheless describes this as the ‘registering’ present
tense. Cf. de Jong 1992, 575 on the chorus’ concern with how (“comment”) Pentheus
died.