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I went to my Greek prof's office hours today for the obligatory sad eyes and sniffling that tends to come early on in any semester of Greek. She was helpful, but did not spend a lot of time on reassurance; the gist of her response was that yes, Greek is amazingly difficult, yes, some people have better memories than others, and one simply must learn to put in the time and work in order to cope.

She did suggest those tiny index card sets that go on key rings, and studying them often but briefly rather than spending two hours on vocab the day of the test. Which made sense. So I bought a bunch of little card-bearing rings, and am working on sticking all my vocab onto them.

She also decided to just not count the first vocab quiz entirely, since...well, she didn't get into specifics, but apparently the majority of the class didn't get a single word correct, and the high scorers were still in the sub-60% range. And then she gave us another vocab quiz today, but I think I did better this time; I was more prepared for the Context What Context approach. (We got a bit of a lecture on that, too: that it's all very well to use context to help figure out a word, but if we depended entirely on context we'd only be learning to recognize these words in this play, and by third year Greek we should be learning these words to recognize them elsewhere, too. Which is fair.) So. Called off the post-class ritual suicide that would have been demanded if I'd gotten 0% twice in a row.

Anyway. Have some more Euripides! In which our proto-goth gets to have a chat with a valley girl.


(Helen enters with drinks and a lock of hair.)

Helen:

Electra, child of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, a maiden for so long, how are you, suffering girl, and your miserable brother Orestes, who rose up as murderer of his mother? For I am not made unclean by my greeting to you, because I attribute the sin to Phoebus. And indeed I mourn the fate of Clytemnestra, whom I never saw after I sailed to Ilion, when I sailed because of a god-maddened fate, and having been parted from her, I mourn the event.

Electra:

Helen, why would I speak to you of what's there for seeing? The offspring of Agamemnon, in misfortune. And I sleeplessly sit idle beside a miserable corpse; this man's a corpse, judging by his weak breath, and I do not reproach his wicked deeds. You, blessed woman, and your blessed spouse, are both present while we suffer.

Helen:

For how long has he lain on his bed?

Electra:

Since he put an end to family's blood.

Helen:

Oh, miserable boy! --and his mother, since he destroyed her.

Electra:

So matters stand; and thus he sank under evils.

Helen:

Maiden, by the gods, would you obey me for sure?

Electra:

I'm busy sitting beside my brother.

Helen:

Would you go to my sister's grave--

Electra:

You urge me towards my mother? For the sake of what?

Helen:

For carrying my offerings of hair and a libation.

Electra:

So it's not righteous for you to go to the grave of your relative?

Helen:

You see, I'm ashamed to show my body to the Argives.

Electra:

You are wise too late; back then, you left home shamefully.

Helen:

You speak truthfully, but you don't speak to me in a friendly manner.

Electra:

And what awe holds you, regarding the Mycenaeans?

Helen:

I fear the fathers of the men lying dead beneath Ilon.

Electra:

So, it is terrible; it cries through the mouth of Argos.

Helen:

For my sake, you make the offering, to remove my fear.

Electra:

I wouldn't be able to look upon my mother's grave.

Helen:

However, it'd be dishonorable for servants to carry over these things.

Electra:

Why not send them by your daughter Hermione herself?

Helen:

It isn't proper for maidens to walk through a crowd.

Electra:

So she would truly repay her rearing to the dead woman.

Helen:

You spoke truly, and I'll follow your suggestion, girl; I'll send my daughter, for you've spoken well in this matter.

(Hermione enters on the next line.)

My child, Hermione, come out of the house promptly, and take from my hands these offerings and my hair; when you reach the area of Clytemnestra's grave, pour out the honeyed milk and the dark wine-foam; then standing at the top of the mound, speak these things:

"Your sister Helen gives you these offerings, being frightened to approach your memorial; she's frightened of the Argive crowd."

And command her to be gracious toward me and you and my husband, and to these two unhappy ones here, whom a god destroyed; and promise her all the offerings for the dead which I will carry out for my sister in appropriate measure. Go, my child, hurry, and when you've given the offerings at the grave, remember the road back as swiftly as possible.

(Hermione leaves for outside, Helen returns indoors.)

Electra:

Nature, you are so great an evil in humans--and a savior to those who've done well for themselves. Did you see that she cut her hair along the furthest edge, to save her beauty? She is the woman she was before. May the gods hate her, just as they destroyed me, and this man here, and all of Greece! Oh, I am miserable! These women come again to visit me in my lamenting, my singing friends; they'll swiftly change this resting man from his sleep, my eyes melting in tears whenever I should see my brother raging about.

Dearest women, do come forward with a quiet step, don't make a sound, let there be no clamor. For your friendship is gracious, but to wake this man would be a tragedy to me.