In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Euripides' Escape-Tragedies: A Study of Helen, Andromeda, and Iphigenia among the TauriansHelene P. FoleyMatthew Wright. Euripides' Escape-Tragedies: A Study of Helen, Andromeda, and Iphigenia among the Taurians. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. viii + 433 pp. Cloth, $125.Due to their putatively lighter tone, exotic foreign settings, and concluding "resolutions" of past misfortunes, Euripides' Helen, fragmentary Andromeda, and Iphigenia Among the Taurians (henceforth IT) have often been described as (...) proto-romances or tragi-comedies. Wright's study follows recent trends in defining ancient Greek dramatic genres above all through their performance context; he argues that the plays belong firmly in the tragic camp and develop serious philosophical and religious themes that deliberately leave their audience in a state of aporia. The plots of these plays share an escape from disaster/remote and threatening environments. Although we cannot firmly date IT, Wright tries to make the case that these apparently unique shared elements suggest that the plays were performed as a coherent trilogy in 412 B.C.E. The book does not [End Page 465] attempt to address in detail many aspects of these (relatively neglected) plays that have been extensively discussed by other critics. Instead Wright focuses on the plays' generic status, their possible mythical innovations, their remote settings, and their philosophy and theology.Although there are many unusual mythical elements in these plays, Wright makes a detailed case that Euripides most probably recombined elements previously known in the tradition to a novel effect, rather than inventing them. He casts considerable doubt on Stesichorus' palinode and Herodotus as origins for Euripides' innocent Egyptian Helen, however. Wright challenges previous assumptions by arguing that Euripides does not develop the plays' barbarian settings. Indeed, there is little ethnic or geographical detail beyond a few initial sketchy references, and the plays blur the differences between Greeks and barbarian "others." The Egyptians Proteus, Theoclymenus, and Theonoe are, genealogically speaking, Greek (183). After a lengthy discussion of the problems of defining philosophical elements in tragedy, Wright links the plays' extensive treatment of the unreliable nature of human language and knowledge of reality to discussions of comparable themes in the fragments of the Sophists, especially Gorgias and Democritus. Finally, Wright argues that the plays, by stressing the impossibility of understanding the divine forces that govern the universe, represent an unusually bleak theological picture. The dei ex machina that conclude Helen and IT belatedly outline mysterious divine patterns governing the confusing dramatic events, but humans can only repeatedly misinterpret their experience and name the divine forces governing their lives, erroneously in Wright's view, as tuche\.These issues, above all the themes of illusion and reality and the nature of divinity in the plays, have in fact been discussed before, but Wright attempts a fuller (with the exception of his attenuated discussion of ritual) and methodologically tighter discussion. This represents both the book's strength and weakness. Without its exhaustive review of dated and (putatively) weakly argued earlier critical views, the book could, and in my view ideally should, have made its positive case more forcefully in half the length. At the same time, by failing to engage with important earlier treatments of central topics, Wright leaves the reader with the impression that scholarly work on these issues is far less nuanced than it has in fact been. To give a few examples that he neglects altogether, his discussion of Aristophanes' parody of Euripides in Thesmophoriazusae (120, n. 196; see also 50–51) does not take advantage of Zeitlin's seminal article on the topic ("Travesties of Gender and Genre in Aristophanes' Thesmophoriazusae," published most recently in her Playing the Other: Gender and Society in Classical Greek Literature [Chicago, 1996], 375–416); he does not make use of John H. Finley's extensive study of Euripides, Thucydides, and the sophists (Three Essays on Thucydides, [Cambridge, Mass., 1967]); other important methodologically sophisticated work on philosophy and tragedy, such as that of Mary Whitlock Blundell (Helping Friends and Harming Enemies: A Study in Sophocles and Greek Ethics [Cambridge, 1989]) or Christopher Gill (Personality in Greek Epic, Tragedy, and Philosophy: The Self in Dialogue [Oxford, 1996]), does not even appear in the notes. [End Page 466... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.3 (2001) 415-428 [Access article in PDF] Brief Mention Tantalus Helene P. Foley John Barton's Tantalus bills itself repeatedly as "leftovers from the epic cycle." 1 Although his cycle of plays--nine in the stage performance and ten, with prologue and epilogue, in the published script--also remakes some late Euripidean plays, the spirit of the piece as a whole is far more reminiscent of what we (...) know of cyclic epic than tragedy or even the Iliad and Odyssey themselves, which, as Aristotle's Poetics points out, are plotted in a distinctively tragic manner with a single unifying action. Sir Peter Hall and Edward Hall's performance version, which premiered in fall 2000 at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts and then traveled to England, is conveniently divided into hour-long segments with intermissions and meal breaks that cater to the sensibilities and attention spans of viewers accustomed to televised series like Masterpiece Theater. Any attempt to recapture the tight plotting, intensity, complexity, and tension of tragedy would inevitably fail in a performance of this scale. Instead, the viewer is drawn into a long and varied narrative replete with surprising shifts in tone, ranging from ironic to lyrical, from painful to comic; episodes drawn from obscure mythological sources or, occasionally, invented, take center stage, while episodes familiar from Homer and tragedy are deliberately deleted. Viewers can follow characters and children of characters over the series of plays and see the traits of siblings and parents emerge with variation in close relatives--an effect enhanced onstage by the fact that these relatives are often played by the same actors. Like cyclic epic, Tantalus fills in the gaps left by Homer [End Page 427] in the Trojan saga and aspires to tantalize its viewers with the possibi415lity of multiple and unstable versions of mythic truth. In addition, although the play repeatedly evokes the image of the rock of Tantalus poised to crash with finality on everyone's head, it largely espouses a cyclic and inconclusive view of history, in which events and human errors relentlessly repeat themselves without acquiring accessible meaning. "Until the great rock falls / What has happened already / Will happen again: / That is god-law, Agamemnon, / As it's man-law on earth. / Epikou Kuklou leipsana" (362).Playwright Barton and the directors fell out during the rehearsal process; the Irish playwright Colin Teevan shortened, revised, and in some critical ways transformed and trivialized Barton's original script. The stage version retains Barton's concern with the futility of war and human action but radically revises the major point of the original. Barton's script above all engages its audience in the myth-making process and the elusive truth of stories: "Who is to Blame? What is the Truth? Could it be Otherwise?" His script opens with a group of twelve "girls" (Barton's term) sleeping on barren ground. Nine (in the performance, ten) of the girls become a chorus, and the remaining ones (the script says four, though the total of twelve demands three, so there may be an error in the script here) play various female parts throughout the cycle. The group has missed the (real or mythical) boat and begins to tell one another conflicting myths about the origin of the world. The chorus, which claims to know all the traditional Greek myths, wants to know which version is true. It debates whether to drink from the nearby oracular streams of Trophonius. (One stream makes one forget the present moment; the other makes one remember even things one does not consciously know.)A poet (and tutor to Dionysus) enters with a wine bag. The skeptical chorus, which at first prefers its own stories and one truth, is lured into testing out the poet's bag of masks and engaging with multiple conflicting stories. "If you want to know the future / You must go into the past" (511). The poet and the four women don new roles and reenact story fragments for the increasingly engaged chorus. The chorus women toss stones over their shoulders in imitation of the Greek creation... (shrink)