is willing to stifle her conscience and enjoy the life she leads as obedient and passive daughter to the murderous and adulterous king and queen, the killers of her father.
At the other end of the spectrum from Clytemnestra is the heroic and fearless Electra, the champion of her murdered father, the thorn in the side of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus, the conscience and dedicated avenger of the play. She lives to exact justice from the killers of her father, and puts aside any other consideration in life, including marriage or her own happiness, until that justice is accomplished. She waits the return of Orestes to help her bring about this justice, and when he does finally arrive, justice is indeed done.
By clearly marking out the moral territory of each of the three women, Sophocles invites the kind of feminist criticism which targets such evil females as Clytemnestra, just as he invites feminist praise for the heroic Electra. At the same time, perhaps Clytemnestra is so utterly evil that a critique of her seems to by gilding the lily. At no point in the play does she show the slightest sign of any admirable human quality. Aside from the fear she has of her son Orestes, the only other moment of vulnerability she displays is at her moment of death at the hand of Orestes: "My son, my son,/ pity your mother!" (Sophocles 182). However, in both instances, her vulnerability is entirely self-centered. She appears to be incapable of caring for any human being but herself. Even her cries for her husband have nothing to do with his safety and everything to do with her own survival.
The question of the role of the family and family authority in the creation of self-determined individuals is a difficult one with respect to this play, because of the contrast between the siblings themselves. Orestes and Electra are truly heroic characters, in the sense that they boldly move, if belatedly, to avenge their father's murder, including collusio...