Why The Surprisingly Feminist Themes Of An Ancient Greek Play Are Relevant Today
Aside from Hason, women order a “Mojada”Â
In a end, it’s formidable for viewers to belong to their dignified compasses and not empathize with Medea’s lethal decision. The hardship faced by both Mexican immigrants and women is formidable to stomach, with Medea temperament a brunt of both. On dual counts, she’s treated as invisible.Â
“I killed a other me,” Medea confesses in a play’s penultimate scene, recalling how she murdered her twin hermit years ago, after her father bequeathed a entirety of their land to him, and Medea was thereby treated like no some-more than cattle. With a same weapon, she continues to cut ties, expelling her coherence on group and her identities as lover, mother.Â
Whether or not we feel for Medea as she disappears, machete in hand, into her residence to a sounds of her screaming son, it’s scarcely unfit not to get goosebumps as she emerges, in a play’s final moments, mountainous above a set, waving her wings, whooping like a bird, vivid and free.Â