Medea Lines 241-252 during a monologue from the protagonist:
What other creatures are bred so exquisitely
Think of how we buy ourselves husbands,
power and alliances for them, slavery
and conquest over us. Bad enough
to have no choice in servitude—
but to pay for it and then celebrate
a wedding feast adds salt to the wound.
Try refusing the arrangement, or later
petition for divorce—the first is impossible
while the second is like admitting
you’re a whore.
——-
In the 2023 film “The Holdovers,” classics enthusiast Paul Hunham remarks while gesturing at ancient Greek artifacts that “there’s nothing new in human experience. Each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion, but man’s every appetite and impulse, from the disgusting to the sublime, is on display right here, all around you.” Medea’s words here are a prime example of this idea in action, bearing great resemblance to feminist movements which only in recent decades have gained widespread recognition.
This portion of Medea’s monologue is crucial to understanding her larger arc over the course of the play. When the nurse initially shares Medea’s predicament, it seems the main source of her anguish is the specific circumstances of her misfortune, with Jason leaving her and her children to marry Glauce, the daughter of Creon. In that context, the elaborate scheme of revenge—going as far as to kill her own children—that Medea has in mind may seem confusing, unreasonable, and even selfish. However, with the context of her larger feminist critique depicted here, transcending her own individual tragedy, such a plan makes a lot more sense. It can be interpreted as dealing a larger blow, even if a symbolic one, to patriarchal systems of power.
From a literary perspective, I appreciate how these musings fuse thoughtful analysis with beautiful language. It’s rare to quickly jump from a beautiful, articulate metaphor like the “wedding feast add[ing] salt to the wound” to quickly argue a societal message about the two hopeless routes which a woman must confront. The juxtaposition between “power and alliances” for the husbands and being victim to “slavery and conquest” for the wives further advances Medea’s point in a striking way. Coating major points about societal gender norms inside of sublime literary devices, Medea allows her audience to not just read but experience the injustice women face.
As Medea and Hunham both remind us, the developments we see today as novel typically have roots deep in the past. Women did not simply wake up upon the publication of The Feminine Mystique and realize they were being oppressed by a patriarchal society; women like Medea had felt that way for millennia. The crucial difference? Unlike Medea, who had minimal backing even from the Corinthian women, modern women had the benefit of formal organizations to seek help from, solidarity movements providing kinship and identity, and existing language (not unlike that developed in Medea’s monologue here) to describe and understand their oppression.
For this reason, I frame the South Korean feminist 4B movement—no marriage, no dating, no birthing, no sex—as a Medean approach to 21st century collective action. Acting largely in a desire for revenge at both individual men who wronged them and the unjust patriarchal system, South Korean women are willing to forgo sexual pleasure, romantic fulfillment, and the opportunity to have children. Such sacrifices for vengeance evoke memories of Medea’s own decisions. Though framed by the media as new ideas from directly out of left field, movements like 4B represent continuities of thousands of years of feminist resistance, simply with greater participation and organization than ever before.
Works Cited
Euripides. Medea. Translated by Michael Collier and Georgia Machemer, edited by Peter Burian and Alan Shapiro, Oxford University Press, 2011.
Kim, Catherine. “No Sex, No Dating, No Babies, No Marriage: How the 4B Movement Could Change America.” Politico, 16 Nov. 2024