
Long before I read Sophocles’s Electra, I knew about the Electra complex. In Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook, two of the main characters, Anna and Molly, chat about their psychoanalyst, whom they refer to as “Mother Sugar.” “You’re Electra,” Mother Sugar would say. Anna and Molly smile wryly over the remembrance. At 14 or 15, did I intuit what it was? Was it part of the culture? Did I associate it with the Oedipus complex, which really was part of the culture? At any rate, I was prepared to read Aeschylus’ Oresteia and Sophocles’ Electra.
I am spellbound by Greek tragedy, but Sophocles’ Electra is less gripping than most of the plays. Electra mopes around the tombs, lamenting the death of her father, Agamemnon, who was murdered by her mother, Clytemnestra, as vengeance for his murder of their daughter, Iphigenia, as a sacrifice to the gods. My analysis: Electra needed to see Mother Sugar!
Electra is also sad about the absence of her younger brother, Orestes, whom Electra personally sent away as a baby to save his life in case Clytemnestra and her consort Aegisthus decided to kill him. She has not seen Orestes since.
It’s not that I want to say, “Cheer up, Electra.” She has lived a life of trauma and agony. She feels unsafe with women, clearly, because of her mother’s violence. Electra brushes off her sister Chyrsothemis’s advice to stay quiet around the royal couple, since they are plotting against her, because she doesn’t care what happens to her, or at least she thinks she doesn’t.

Her longing for Orestes seems almost uncomfortably sexual. Consider the following passage (Sophocles II< The University of Chicago Press, vv. 162-66)
I await him always
sadly, unweariedly,
I who am past childbearing
past marriage
always to my own ruin.
Electra is obsessed with dead and missing men. Whatever revenge she may fantasize about, she will take no action – unless a man tells her what to do. She longs to murder her mother to avenge the death of her father, but Orestes shows up as the avenger. He has her check out the palace to make sure Clytemnestra is alone before he and his friend Pylades go in to commit the murder. Ironically Electra is not present at her dream revenge on Clytemnestra, but she is there for the murder of her mother’s consort, Aegisthus, who tries to stall Orestes by talking. And here Electra finally makes a decision, urging Orestes not to talk but to kill him quickly, and she follows the men into the bath. Does she participate in the murder? Finally she has taken action, but will she regret it?
Because Electra is not Clytemnestra, or is she? They are related, but no mother and daughter could be more different. Clytemnestra loved power, and had no regrets. Electra has lived in her dreams and memories. This killing will stay with her, but I cannot imagine this sad spinster thriving with the new memory of violence that will link her even more closely to her mother.
I must find my copy of Euripides’s Electra and see what that Electra has to say.

