To be frank, I found this play in print to be less than my memory of seeing this on stage. In particular, Medea's murder of her two sons didn't come through as believable.… Of course, all plays suffer from this to some extent, and it may have been that this translation by Frederic Prokosch dampened some of the drama. I did find this translation quite easy to read though. ( )

Medea es fácilmente una feminista radical. Se enamora de Jasón a tal grado de traicionar su patria, su padre y mataer a su hermano, luego lo ayuda a conseguir el vellocino de oro con su magia y sabiduría, para que después termine éste pagåndole con la traición, casåndose con la hija de Creonte. En venganza, Medea envía a sus hijos con regalos envenenados que matan a la nueva mujer de Jasón y a Creonte, su padre: el venenos abrasador hacía caer a tirones su piel y escapar la sangre de sus cuerpos. Pero, ademås, asesina a sus propios hijos para terminar de castigar a Jasón su traición.

Extractros:

p. 92: "Podría extenderme mucho respondiendo a tus palabras, si el padre Zeus no supiera los beneficios que recibiste de mí y el pago que tú me diste. Tú no debías, despu´s de haber deshonrado mi lecho, llevar una vida agradable, riéndote de mí; ni la princesa, ni tampoco el que te procuró el matrimonio, Creonte, debían haberme expulsado impunemente de esta tierra. Y ahora, si te place, llámame leona y Escila que habita el suelo tirrénico. A tu corazón, como debía, he devuelto el golpe."

p. 92: "Sábelo bien: el dolor me libera, si no te sirve de alegría."

L Silvestri me anotojó. ( )

I bought this book and read it just before seeing the play in London last week (starring the amazing Sophie Okonedo). Reading it and then seeing it made it absolutely clear to me why a play written almost 2,500 years ago is still being performed — and still shocking audiences. This is the ultimate revenge fantasy, a play about women and men, about racism and immigration, about power and corruption. The violence, which takes place largely off-stage, is horrific. This play will give you nightmares. Highly recommended. ( )

Probably the most badass woman in all of mythology. ( )

This is rather though provoking. Medea has history here, we come in at the end of her story, this is set in just a few hours. But it would make little to no sense without understanding how she came to be in Corinth and why Jason, her husband in all but the legal sense, feels that he can up and marry someone else. Medea, unsurprisingly, doesn't see it that way. The play is dominated by her, with her presence on stage for the majority of the play. She faces Jason, Creon (the king of Corinth) and Aegeus (King of Athens) and manages to shock the first 2 severely.
When the play opens, Jason's marriage to Creon's daughter (who, I think, goes unnamed throughout, which is interesting) has been planned and Creon banishes Medea, for fear that she may do him or his daughter harm. He allows her one day to leave - and calls himself a fool for allowing her the time - how right he is proven.
I struggle to see how the chorus fit in here, if they were ladies of Corinth, would they really have stood by when Medea expands on her plot against the bride and her father? It feels unlikely, so I'm uncertain of who they are. In the play they serve as a foil to the action, taking the news and digesting it as we do the same, casting it into a different light or reviewing it.
Medea leaves the stage under her own agency, relying on her lineage as the daughter of the son of the Sun, but she does so under her own agency. She leaves Corinth in a very different state than it was a few hours earlier. I can;t say that I understand her, or her actions, but she does feel real, which is a thing when this was written 2.5 thousand years ago.
I wonder what this is like staged... ( )