Bridget Martin’s book offers a thorough investigation of the complex and ambiguous role that the dead play on the ancient Greek tragic stage. Drawing on an impressive range of material and literary evidence, Martin presents a compelling look at the way in which the dead power Greek tragedy, a genre notably defined by death. Arguably, the book is a case study of the methodological complexities which examinations of the ancient world sometimes involve: even in a single topic (here: the dead), the sheer variety that is reflected across ancient conceptions and practices is remarkable, presenting a major challenge for scholars wishing to consolidate and decipher the surviving evidence. Martin’s study demonstrates how one might successfully navigate through such bumpy ground.
In chapter 1, Martin delineates the two contexts which inform the depiction of the dead in tragedy: the wider literary tradition (especially epic) and the contemporaneous realities of fifth-century ancient Athens. This broader consideration at the outset is useful: not only does it enable an exploration of death and eschatology in Homer’s poetry (such as corpse exposure, necromancy and representations of the Underworld) as well as funerary practices across fifth-century BC Greece, but it also draws attention to real-life beliefs regarding the pollution and contagion of dead bodies which, by contrast, are not reflected in Homeric epic. The chapter also explores general conceptions of the afterlife, including the indications that can be found in mystery cults such as the Eleusinian and Orphic Mysteries. Throughout, Martin examines an impressive range of sources from antiquity, from literary and papyrus texts to material remains such as tablets, epitaphs, vases and vessels.
Chapters 2 and 3 illuminate the difficulties that are involved in conceptualizing and categorizing the tragic dead. Chapter 2 examines the varying depictions of the ‘awareness’ of the dead across Greek tragedy, which are revealed to be contradictory; as Martin summarizes, the dead are perceived to be both ‘powerful and weak, dangerous and harmless, jealous and oblivious, vocal and voiceless, revenge-driven and unaware, and unhappy and free from grief’ (62). To tackle these ambiguities, Martin develops a spectrum of consciousness for the dead across the tragic corpus, beginning with oblivion and ending with the dead who can physically manifest. Chapter 3 then presents case studies featuring interactions between the living and the dead in tragedy, most of which involve necromancy and dreams. Here, Martin offers suggestive readings of notorious necromantic episodes, most notably of Darius in Aeschylus’ Persians, as well as the apparitions of Clytemnestra in Aeschylus’ Eumenides and Polydorus in Euripides’ Hecuba. This exploration crucially extends beyond the surviving tragic corpus, as Martin includes examples from fragmentary tragedy such as Teiresias’ appearance in Aeschylus’ Psychagōgoi.
Chapters 4 and 5 explore cases of active conflict between the living and the dead: both the living harming the dead (chapter 4) and viceversa (chapter 5). Chapter 4 reveals that the most grievous harm the living could impose on the dead involved neglecting their bodily remains. Exposure and mutilation of dead bodies resulting from a lack of burial are thus read as a form of dishonour and punishment. Various tragedies debate the burial of the exposed dead, most notably Sophocles’ Antigone. Martin’s discussion highlights the manner in which these debates not only reveal the importance of burial rites for expressing familial duty and a general sense of respect for the dead but also their use as dramatic tool through which tragedians reveal character. Chapter 5 similarly draws our attention to the complexities surrounding harmful interactions stemming from the dead. Though Martin considers the notion that the dead can cause damage to the living autonomously, which is suggested in several plays from Aeschylus’ Choephori to Euripides’ Hippolytus, the discussion reveals that they generally rely on intermediary agents, such as the Erinyes, to inflict harm on those still alive. Certain plays depict more active collaboration in which living agents act on behalf of the dead, but, as Martin illustrates, these tend to show how the living exploit the dead for their own ends.
Overall, Harmful Interaction reveals what Martin calls the ‘malleable and protean nature’ of the tragic dead (186). This is reinforced in the book’s conclusion, which provides a helpful outline of the role of the dead in the plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides. Despite the book’s commendable strengths, it neglects to consider the role of the dead in the wider terrain of fifth-century drama. Though Aristophanes’ Frogs is mentioned in Martin’s discussion of the Eleusinian mysteries in the first two chapters, there is no mention of the dead in comedy (or satyr play), a consideration which, in my view, would have strengthened Martin’s arguments on tragedy. Nonetheless, the book will prove useful to scholars and students of Greek tragedy and indeed to anyone seeking to understand the complex beliefs and customs concerning the dead in antiquity.
