Guthrie presents 'House of Atreus'

The Guthrie continues to be amazing, and "The House of Atreus" is its most amazing production so far.  "Atreus" was adapted by John Lewin for the Guthrie from the Oresteia, a trilogy of plays by Aeschylus.  It was first put on in 1967; the demand for tickets was so great that it was brought back this year.

The plays are set in the ancient Greek city of Argos.  Atreus gained the throne of Argos after a struggle with his brother Thyestes.  After a period of exile Thyestes returned to Argos for what he thought was to be a feast of reconciliation.  When he found that he had been fed his two eldest sons,  he pronounced a curse on the house of Atreus and again left the country with Aegisthus, his third son.

Atreus' throne passed to his son Agamemnon.  Helen, the wife of Menelaus, Agamemnon's brother, deserted her husband for Paris, son of Priam, king of Troy.  Agamemnon and Menelaus sailed to Troy and placed the city under siege, after Agamemnon had first sacrificed his daughter in order to allay the wrath of the goddess Artemis, who had sent bad weather to prevent the ships from sailing.  The siege lasted for ten years--but Troy finally fell.

By the time Agamemnon returned home as conquering hero, his wife Clytemnestra (angry about the sacrifice of her daughter) had become far too friendly with Aegisthus, who had returned to Argos to seek revenge for what Atreus had done to Thyestes.  Together Aegisthus and Clytemnestra murdered Agamemnon and took over the throne of Argos.

Years later Orestes, the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, returned to Argos under orders from Apollo to kill both Aegisthus and Clytemnestra for the murder of Agamemnon.

He did so, but the Furies, daughters of Night, dark goddesses whose main purpose was to avenge those who had been wronged by their kindred, began to hound him.  Without pity and without any regard for motive, taking into account only that he had shed kindred blood, they demanded retribution.  Orestes fled to Apollo and asked for protection.

Apollo sent him to Athens for trial.  The Furies acted as prosecutors, Apollo as defender.  Citizens of Athens were picked for the jury and Athena herself acted as judge.  Both sides presented their cases brilliantly; the jury voted and the vote was even.

Athena cast the deciding vote.  She voted for acquittal, and proclaimed that the shedding of blood would no longer demand the shedding of more blood, that the punishment of crimes would be carried out by a court system.

Greek tragedy has been relegated to the classroom and the ninety-five-cent paperback.  The devices so foreign to modern drama make more difficult the reader's task of wrenching the play from the stage and extracting from it an imaginable situation with a dramatic effect. The Guthrie has used all of those devices--used them so well that they are never distracting.

Men play women's parts.  Apollo, the sun god, is bright gold and eight feet tall, with a head like a Mayan calendar.  Athena, who remains seated on a throne, is even bigger.  During the first two plays there is a chorus on stage.

All of the characters wear masks.  It is the triumph of the Guthrie that none of this seems phony.  "Atreus" never crosses the line that separates drama from circus.  Nothing is overdone; everything moves the play toward its conclusion.

The power of "Atreus" derives much less from the fact of murder than from the significance of murder.  Every event is the result of powerful forces and every event sets in motion forces even more powerful.  Men ride a tidal wave in a ship which is almost-but-not-quite out of control.

The gods call most of the shots, and men are in the hands of Fate.  This gives the events a depth and a power which would not be there if the strings were being pulled by human hands.  It is the greatness of conflicting forces that gives the play its impact.