The Shelbiad Summer Book Club 1: Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

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a stack of weathered hardback books on a wooden deck in front of a sandy beach


An Index card with the title: Clytemnestra, Costanza Casati. On the left is an image of a book with a gold cover, with the image of a woman wearing a toga. Overlaid across the image is the word CLYTEMNESTRA. To the right is the text: Myth: Clytemnestra This epic novel follows Clytemnestra through her childhood in Sparta with her sister Helen, her first marriage to Tantalus, her forced marriage to Agamemnon, and her romance with Aegisthus. We see the joys of motherhood and the heartbreak of losing a child, and we see the motivating power of vengeance.


You all know how I feel about Clytemnestra. She did nothing wrong; Agamemnon ran his bath and now he has to lie in it. I’ve previously written on Clytemnestra’s myth and what is at stake in contemporary adaptations, which you can read about in my post, ‘I’m Clytemnestra, I’m a Bitch, I’m a Lover, I'm a Mother, I’m a Sinner’. 


I will again share an excerpt from Aeschylus' Agamemnon, specifically from an absolutely incredible translation by Sarah Ruden (2016). This truly encapsulates why I will defend Clytemnestra until my last breath. She is a strong and irreverent woman, demanding justice. She is a Fury.


CHORUS: 

We're stunned at this defiance in your mouth, 

this bragging speech above your husband's body. 


CLYTEMNESTRA: 

You think you're prodding at a female moron, 

but I don't shake inside, addressing those

who understand. And you can praise or blame me––

it doesn't matter. This is Agamemnon, 

my husband, he's a corpse now. My right hand, 

an honest builder, made this. Here we are. 


[...]


So now you sentence me to banishment, 

allot me hatred, rumbling civic curses. 

Back then you offered him no opposition 

when he, as casual as at one death

among the crowding and luxuriant flocks, 

sacrificed his own child, my dearest birth-pangs, 

to conjure up some blasts of air from Thrace. 

Wasn't it that polluted criminal 

you should have driven out? 

(l.1399-1420)


Is Clytemnestra a bad wife to Agamemnon? Or is she, instead, a good mother to Iphigenia? She is relentless in her demand for justice for her daughter’s ritualised murder. Instead of being an archetype of bad wifely behaviour, she can become the model of dedicated motherhood, taking justice into her own hands when there was no legal recourse to protect her daughter or punish her husband, her daughter’s murderer. 


For Natalie Haynes, Clytemnestra is ‘the mother of a daughter who has been slaughtered like an animal. Is it any wonder she nurses an unquenchable rage against the man who committed this crime?’ (2020: 151) 


In Costanza Casati’s debut novel Clytemnestra, the question isn’t whether Clytemnestra is a bad wife, but whether Agamemnon is a bad husband. The answer is completely, unerringly… yes. 


At an event in February 2023 to mark its publication, over 100 people queued in Piccadilly Waterstones to meet the debut author – something which is basically unheard of in the publishing industry!


We see Clytemnestra come up against patriarchy time and again in the novel, personified in very familiar mythical figures, including Tyndareus, Theseus, Agamemnon and Menelaus, as well as the Mycenaean elders (the latter of whom will be especially familiar to readers of Aeschylus' play). We see that the Spartan warrior spirit is not just inherited through the male line, and we see what happens when you try to bully a wild woman into submission. 


The novel contends with some of the biggest questions when we revisit Clytemnestra’s myth, including: What effect would growing up with the most beautiful woman in the world as one’s sister have on a person? Is Clytemnestra justified in her actions? Who is the driving force in her folie à deux with Aegisthus – who wields the knife and, separate to this, who controls the knife? 


Yet, it leaves some questions deliciously unanswered, including what effect a grieving, ravening mother can have on her surviving children, and what happens when the gods demand retribution for the crimes of (wo)men. 




There will come a time when songs are sung about her, about the people she loved and the ones she hated. 


They will sing of her mother, the queen seduced by a god, of her brothers, boxers and horse-breakers, 

of her sister, a woman so vain who couldn’t stay in her husband’s bed, 

of Agamemnon, the proud lion of Mycenae, 

of the wise, many-minded Odysseus, 

of the treacherous, cursed Aegisthus, 

of Clytemnestra, cruel queen and unfaithful wife. 


But it doesn't matter. She was there. She knows songs never tell the truth. 

(Casati 2023: 464-5) 

***

This was part 1 of The Shelbiad Summer Book Club. Remember: you can post your review of the book in the comments and I will add it to the post by the end of summer! 
anonymous submissions also welcome

If you wish to submit a picture showing the books in your summery locations (or ironically dreary locations), you can send them via email (sjediting7@gmail.com), or via Twitter DMs / mentions. 

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