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    Orestes
    Orestes
    Orestes
    Ebook125 pages52 minutes

    Orestes

    By . Voltaire

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    François-Marie Arouet wrote under the nom de plume of Voltaire, and produced works in almost every literary form, including plays, poems, novels, essays, and historical and scientific works. Orestes was produced in 1750, an experiment which intensely interested the literary world and the public. In his Dedicatory Letters to the Duchess of Maine, Voltaire has the following passage on the Greek drama: "We should not, I acknowledge, endeavor to imitate what is weak and defective in the ancients: it is most probable that their faults were well known to their contemporaries. I am satisfied, Madam, that the wits of Athens condemned, as well as you, some of those repetitions, and some declamations with which Sophocles has loaded his Electra: they must have observed that he had not dived deep enough into the human heart. I will moreover fairly confess, that there are beauties peculiar not only to the Greek language, but to the climate, to manners and times, which it would be ridiculous to transplant hither. Therefore I have not copied exactly the Electra of Sophocles-much more I knew would be necessary; but I have taken, as well as I could, all the spirit and substance of it."
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateJun 10, 2015
    ISBN9781627557504
    Orestes
    Author

    . Voltaire

    Imprisoned in the Bastille at the age of twenty-three for a criminal libel against the Regent of France, François-Marie Arouet was freed in 1718 with a new name, Voltaire, and the completed manuscript of his first play, Oedipe, which became a huge hit on the Paris stage in the same year. For the rest of his long and dangerously eventful life, this cadaverous genius shone with uninterrupted brilliance as one of the most famous men in the world. Revered, and occasionally reviled, in the royal courts of Europe, his literary outpourings and fearless campaigning against the medieval injustices of church and state in the midst of the ‘Enlightenment’ did much to trigger the French Revolution and to formulate the present notions of democracy. But above all, Voltaire was an observer of the human condition, and his masterpiece Candide stands out as an astonishing testament to his unequalled insight into the way we were and probably always will be.

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    3.5/5

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    • 3/5
      My tepid rating of this play is due in part to the translation by Theodore Buckley (this is the most commonly available one in the public domain) & partly due to Euripides' writing. I read this as part of the Kindle omnibus, "The Tragedies Of Euripides Volume 1" and also listened along to the Librivox recording.While the plot of this play includes a considerable amount of bloody action, it almost all takes place off stage. This is basically a "talking" play -- the various characters tell each other about the action rather than portray it. Because of this, the late Victorian style of Buckley's translation has a large impact on the effect of the play on the reader. I found that in some passages, I was drifting off even as murder and revenge were being discussed. I would recommend anyone considering this play to seek out a more modern translation. The plot itself is quite interesting, dealing with fate & punishment, revenge & murder.

    Book preview

    Orestes - . Voltaire

    ACT I.

    SCENE I.

    Scene, the seashore, a wood, a temple, a palace and a tomb, on one side: on the other, Argos at a distance.

    Iphisa, Pammenes.

    Iphisa

    Sayest thou, Pammenes? shall these hated walls,

    Where I so long have dragged a life of woe,

    Afford at least the melancholy comfort

    Of mingling sorrow with my dear Electra?

    And will Ægisthus bring her to the tomb

    Of Agamemnon, bring his daughter here,

    To be a witness of the horrid pomp,

    The sad solemnity, which on this day

    Annual returns, to celebrate their crimes,

    And make their guilt immortal?

    Pammenes

    O Iphisa,

    Thou honored daughter of my royal master,

    Like thee, confined within these lonely walls,

    The secrets of a vile abandoned court

    Do seldom reach Pammenes; but, ’tis rumored,

    The jealous tyrant brings Electra here,

    Fearful lest Argos, by her cries alarmed,

    Should rise to vengeance; every heart, he knows,

    Feels for the injured princess, therefore much

    He dreads her clamors; with a watchful eye

    Observes her conduct, treats her as a slave,

    And leads the captive to adorn his triumph.

    Iphisa

    Good heaven! and must Electra be a slave!

    Shall Agamemnon’s blood be thus disgraced

    By a barbarian? Will her cruel mother,

    Will Clytemnæstra bear the vile reproach

    That on herself recoils, and all her race?

    Perhaps my sister is too fierce of soul,

    She mingles too much pride and bitterness

    Of keen resentment with her griefs; alas!

    Weak are her arms against a tyrant’s power:

    What will her anger, what her pride avail her?

    They only irritate a haughty foe,

    And cannot serve our cause: my fate at least

    Is milder, and this solitary state

    Shields me from wrongs which must oppress Electra.

    Far from my father’s foes, these pious hands

    Can pay due offerings to his honored shade:

    Far from his murderer, in this sad retreat

    Freely I weep in peace, and curse Ægisthus:

    I’m not condemned to see the tyrant here,

    Save when the Sun unwillingly brings round

    The fatal day that knit the dreadful tie,

    When that inhuman monster shed the blood

    Of Agamemnon, when base Clytemnæstra—

    SCENE II.

    Electra, Iphisa, Pammenes.

    Iphisa

    O my Electra! art thou here? my sister—

    Electra

    The day of horror is returned,

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