This play is pretty much about ending the war, I believe the war in question was the Peloponnesian war. Anyway, the women are sick of it, their husbands are always away. So they decide to stop it. And how so? By withholding sex. The men will be so desperate to have sex that they will end the war and make a peace treaty just so that they can get it. Keep in mind, this is a new comedy--basically that some fantastical unrealistic idea will be a success and fix whatever problem is going down. Of course this isn't realistic because there are always prostitutes, and we know Spartans aren't frighted of homosexuality.
And keep in mind, this is a society that degrades women. (Look up Apollo's defense for Orestes murdering his mother.) So, they play is going to reflect a lot of that--and also makes a joke out of the face that the women have a better idea of how to run and unite all of Greece than these warring men. Lysistrata makes a very good analogy for it in carding and spinning wool. (It's pretty much Aesop's story of the brothers with the bundle of sticks, only with making clothing instead.) Aristophanes actually got in trouble often for being so kind to women in this respect and satirizing and disrespecting the government. But, anyway, two examples early on of the Greek treatment of women: "The way we women behave! Really, I don't blame the men for what they say about us" (108, lines 8-10). And:
Lysistrata: ...Only we women can save Greece!
Kalonike: Only we women? Poor Greece!
(108, lines 23-24).
Ah, and there are a lot of double entendres. This is pretty much what a group of fourteen-year-olds would write if they were advanced Grecian playwrights. There are jokes regarding dildos, pubic hair, metaphors that are clearly sexual (the men carry torches, the women pots), penis jokes... Well, I'll put a few of the funnier ones up here. Trust me, they're hilarious. My roommate thought I was crazy because I was just chuckling to myself while reading it...
"You lay a half-inch of your stick on Stratyllis, and you'll never stick again!" (112, 98).
"Oh God! Oh my God! I'm stiff from lack of exercise. All I can do is stand up" (119, 11-12).
"Herald: ...Ah'm a certified herald from Sparta, and Ah've come to talk about an ahmistice.
Commissioner: Then why that spear under your cloak?
Herald: Ah have no speah!
Commissioner: You don't walk naturally, with your tunic poked out so. You have a tumor, maybe, or a hernia?
Herald: You lost yo' mahnd, man?
Commissioner: Well, something's up, I can see that. And I don't like it" (121, 5-11). This is like a Marx brothers sketch if awkward arousal was involved/socially acceptable.
So the women make their oaths to do away with sex, though they're clearly troubled by it--at first, the women wouldn't even agree to the idea. While their making their oath, Kalonike has a little outburst where she says the idea of not having sex alone is killing her. Women, at the time, were thought to be completely ruled by 'nature'--that is, their sexual impulses. Actually, later in the play the women take hold of the Acropolis where the money was stored, because no money=no war funding, and start trying to make excuses to leave because the lack of sex has apparently driven them mad.
Lampito is the female representative of Sparta, characterized by her accent (Spartans sounded like Rhode Islanders, by the way) and apparent huskiness that is implied by the text--anyway, she says finally that peace should come before sex, and Lysistrata compliments her, she says her statement was "Spoken like a true Spartan!" (109, 120). I thought this was kind of ironic, as Spartans aren't actually known for their peaceful ways...
"After all, we've got a reputation for bitchiness to live up to" (111, 213). Yay mediocre translations!
"But if you must shake hornets' nests, look out for the hornets" (114, 85-86).
The men are also quite indignant at the women saving them--again, Aristophanes satirizing the legal system by saying how stupid it is, that even women can work and plan better than the male government. Hope you like your libel suits!
"Let us look like the innocent serpent, but be the flower underneath it, as the poet sings" (116, 14-15). This is the first male line I've quoted--they want to scare the women from the Acropolis, but not harm them or scare them and be 'flowers', that is, lovers. The use of "innocent serpent" is interesting enough, but I mainly quoted it here because Lady Macbeth in her Shankspeare play (guess which play!) says almost the same line: "Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent underneath it." Of course, Lady Macbeth is, I believe, giving her husband advice for murder, not for getting into bed with somebody. (Shanksperian slumber mysteries? I think they'd be popular.) But, with Shankspeare in mind, he was heavily influenced by these Grecian and Roman plays. His plays actually use the same framework the Roman Seneca used in his plays. LOOK AT ME, LEARNING THINGS IN COLLEGE! Damn, girl.
Okay, so when all the ladies are going "man-crazy" a woman, Koryphaios, asks Lysistrata what's wrong (Lysistrata eventually tells her that this is what's wrong).
"Lysistrata: To put it bluntly, we're dying to get laid.
Koryphaios: Almighty God!
Lysistrata: Why bring God into it?--No, it's just as I say."
(117, 10-12).
It reminds of a scene in I believe Factotum when Chinaski is having sex with some lady. She starts screaming "Oh Jesus, yes!" or something akin to that and while Chinaski she's yelling this Chinaski kind of asks himself: How does God always get into this? or again, something akin to it. It's a pretty funny scene, so... yeah. (This scene might actually happen in Post Office, but let's face it, that doesn't make a huge difference, does it?)
One of the girls, Myrrhine, goes through with the plan on getting her husband really, really aroused and then ignoring him and all. She gets up for a pillow, for a coverlet, for perfume, and so on. All the while, the husband in severe distress and incredible horniness is crying out some pretty hilarious things in his anguish: "This girl and her coverlets will be the death of me" (121, 86-87) and "God damn the man who invented perfume!" (121, 97). Well, I thought it was funny. He also refers to his man-bits as his "little prodding pal" (121, 105) and talks to it like it's a separate entity. Look. Maybe deep down I just happen to be a fourteen-year-old boy. Because I am cracking up just rereading it. STOP NOT LAUGHING!
There's a little footnote explaining a reference to the battle of the 300--which I added a note to remember the six hundred slaves who fell with their masters too. Nah, no biggie or anything. Whatever, it's g.
The Commissioner, thinking fondly of one time when everybody was really drunk: "Couldn't tell the difference between Drink to Me Only and The Star-Spangled Athens" (125, 20-21). YAY, mediocre translations!
...Yup. It's pretty much that. Lots of jokes about sexual functions and arousal. Well, eventually the men agree to work out a peace treaty and I'm sure everyone goes back to their homes and enjoys lots of sex. Except for Aristophanes; he got to enjoy the big house. DON'T DROP THE SOAP! (Did they have soap back then?) DON'T DROP YOUR... uh... laurels? Well, whatever. This play is hilarious and is meant for the fourteen-year-old boy within us all. I actually find it kind of funny that this play is more similar to today than, say a Victorian play. The more things change, the more they stay the same? Well, anyways, I'll team up with ancient Greece and write the Victorians a letter: "Dear Victorian era, sex really is funny. Please get a sense of humor. Also, total dick move what you did to Oscar Wilde. I hope you feel bad now, BOSIE. The Greeks are looking at me like what but they'd agree with me if they knew. Especially the Spartans. --Angela & Also the Hellenes PS. Your cravats are way cooler than togas, though. I admit it." You know, now that I think of it, that really is weird. The Greeks would have been all, it's okay, Oscar! Let's all party. Naked. Oh wait, I'm thinking of the Romans! Oh those Romans and their orgies. (I actually don't know how Romans felt about homosexuality...)
Anyway, just some notes: My copy of this play has apparently been toned down because it is in a textbook for college students (what? How much bawdier could this possibly get?).
The numbering probably also looks crazy to you. I did it as page, line numbers. Also, in this version it restarts the line-count after every new scene starts, or a strophe or antistrophe happens.
Also, speaking of strophes, you know how they break up the Grecian (and possibly also Roman) plays? You know what breaks up sentences? Apostrophes. BAM, etymology, bitches! High five for me!
Answer to last post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Let it Rain by OK Go (Fun fact, I wasn't even thinking of the Noah thing. I was just thinking about Mahlah and whatshisbucket the Nephil.)
This post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: He's been trying with limited success to get this girl and get into her dress, but every time he thinks he's getting close, she threatens death before he gets a chance
(HINT: This song is the reason why I've been wanting to read this play for like three years even though I've literally never known anything about it but the title and author before I actually read it.)
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