There is a particular scene in "Agamemnon" that I always want to point to in order to show students the genius of Aeschylus as a tragic playwright. To really appreciate any of these ancient plays you really have to have an understanding the peculiar structure of the classic Greek drama. The better understanding you have of this structure, as well as the key elements of tragedy as delineated by Aristotle in his "Poetica," the more you can appreciate any of these plays, but "Agamemnon" in particular.

The play is the first drama of the Orestia trilogy, the only extant trilogy to survive from that period; of course, since Aeschylus was the only one of the three great tragic poets whose trilogies told basically a story in three-parts. Sophocles and Euripides would tell three different but thematically related stories in their own trilogies (the Theban trilogy of Sophocles is an artificial construct). In "Agamemnon" it has been ten years since he sailed away to Troy, having sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia in order to get fair winds (the tale is best told by Euripides in "Iphigenia at Aulis"). For ten years Agamemnon's wife Clytemnestra, the half-sister of Helen, has been waiting for his return so she can kill him. In the interim she has taken Agamemnon's cousin Aegithus as a lover.

This brings into play the curse on the house of Atreus, which actually goes back to the horrid crime of Tantalus and the sins of Niobe as well. Atreus was the father of Agamemnon and Menelaus, who a generation earlier had contended with his own brother Thyestes for the throne of Argos. Thyestes seduced his brother's wife and was driven out of Argos by Atreus, who then became king. Thyestes eventually returned to ask forgiveness, but Atreus, recalling the crime of Tantalus, got his revenge by killing the two sons of Thyestes and feeding them to their father at a banquet. That was when Thyestes cursed Atreus and all of his descendants and fled Argos with his remaining son, the infant Aegithus.

This becomes important because Aeschylus has two people in the palace at Argos, each of whom has a legitimate reason to take the life of Agamemnon. But in this version Aeschylus lays the crime at Clytemnestra's feet. When Agamemnon returns with his concubine Cassandra, daughter of Troy's King Priam, the insane prophetess symbolizes all sorts of reasons for Cassandra to renew her desire for vengeance. However, it is also important that Agamemnon reaffirm his guilt, and this he does by his act of hubris, walking on the scarlet carpet.

Now, one of the key conventions of Greek tragedy was that acts of violence happened off stage, in the skene, which in "Agamemnon" serves as the place at Argos. Consequently, the Athenian audience not only knows that Agamemnon is going to be murdered, they know that once he goes into the "palace" he is not coming out alive and at some point a tableau of his murder will be wheeled out of the skene. However, despite this absolute knowledge Aeschylus manages to surprise his audience with the murder. This is because of the formal structure of a Greek tragedy.

Basically the tragedy alternates between dramatic episodes, in which actors (up to two for Aeschylus, three for Sophocles and Euripides) interact with each other and/or the chorus, and choral odes called stasimons. These odes are divided into match pairs of strophes and antistrophes, reflecting the audience moving across the stage right to left and left to right respectively.

After Agamemnon goes into the palace and the chorus does an ode, the next episode has Clytemnestra coaxing the doomed Cassandra into the palace as well. With both of the intended victims inside, the chorus begins the next ode. Once the first strophe is finished the corresponding antistrophe is required, but it is at that point, while the audience is anticipating the formal completion of the first pair, that Agamemnon's cry is heard from within the palace. The antistrophe is the disjointed cries of the individual members of the chorus, in contrast to the choral unity of the strophe.

This is how Aeschylus surprises his audience with the murder of Agamemnon, but using the psychology of the play's structure to his advantage. Because we do not have any examples of tragedy that predate Aeschylus, it may well be more difficult to really appreciate his innovation as a playwright. But while the Orestia as a whole is clearly his greatest accomplishment, it is perhaps this one scene that best illustrates his genius. While the fatal confrontation between Clytemnestra and Orestes in "Choeophori" has the most pathos of any of his scenes, there is nothing in either it or "Eumenides" that is as brilliantly conceived and executed as the murder of Agamemnon.

This is an excellent translation of the first play of the Oresteia trilogy (the only extant Greek trilogy). I particularly enjoyed it because of the ongoing commentary and annotations. This trilogy should be required reading of any college student and it should occur early in their college life. The trilogy won First Prize at the Greater Dionesia in 458 B. C. Agamemnon returns to Argos from the Trojan War. He is killed by his wife Clytemnestra and his first cousin Aegisthus. Clytemnestra's reasons for the murder of both Agamemnon and Cassandra were questioned even in ancient Greece: was it for revenge for the death of her daughter Iphigenia or was it for her adultery with Aegisthus? In one of Pindar's odes (c. 474 B. C.), "Pythia 11", Pindar asks: "Was it Iphigeneia, who at the Euripos crossing was slaughtered far from home, that vexed her to drive in anger the hand of violence? Or was it couching in a wrong bed by night that broke her will and set her awry?" The Oresteia trilogy is a study in justice. Agamemnon's death must be avenged; but, this means matricide. Orestes, in the next play, should not have been the hand of vengence.

"The Choephoroe" ("The Libation Bearers") is the second play in the Orestia trilogy of Aeschylus. It takes place a few years after the events covered in "Agamemnon," which tells of how Agamemnon returned victoriously from the Trojan War only to be slain by his wife Clytemnestra, who never forgave her husband for having their daughter Iphigenia sacrificed so the Achean fleet could sail for Troy ten years earlier. "The Choephoroe" finds Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, living in exile in the nearby kingdom of Phocis. However, in obedience to a command given him by the god Apollo, Orestes returns to Argos to avenge his father. Seeking out his sister Electra, Orestes disguises himself to enter the palace where he kills Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus. Orestes attempts to justify his act of matricide but in the final scene of the play becomes consumed by madness and flees from the Furies, the punishing spirits of the gods who will hound him for his hideous crime. The Orestia concludes in "The Eumenides," where Orestes is expiated of his crime and Aeschylus completes his dramatic argument for the civilized notion of justice.

The story of the murder of Clytemnestra by Orestes is a unique tale from ancient mythology because it is the one story which serves as the subject for plays by all three of the great Greek tragic poets; both Sophocles and Euripides called their versions of the tale "Electra." All three have their own perspectives on the tale and what makes the Aeschylus version stand out, besides being the middle part of the only extant trilogy from these ancient dramatic competition, is the confrontation between mother and son. After hearing that Aegisthus has been slain, Clytemnestra knows that Orestes has returned and sends her servants to get the ax with which she slew his father. But when they confront each other she reminds him that she gave him birth and nursed him through infancy. Then she argues that she was justified in killing Agamemnon. Finally she threatens him, saying Orestes will be tormented forever if he kills his mother. Orestes replied he would be tormented by his father's curse if he spares her.

This scene in the play's fourth episode is arguably the most powerful ever written by Aeschylus. Notice that neither Sophocles nor Euripides try to compete with this scene and pretty much avoid the fatal confrontation in their versions of "Electra." There might be a tendency to seeing the play as the flip side of "Agamemnon," setting up the stage for the climax of "The Eumenides." Obviously I want to make an argument that this play stands on its own, even when separated from the Orestia.

It is very customary for a physicist that when he wants to understand the role of group theory in physics, he has to go a very long way before he is ready to answer a physical question using the newly learnt tools of group theory. This book however
has a more straight-forward approach allowing you to both comprehend almost all the formal aspects of group theory and solve specific problems in physics. Besides the book uses a very simple notation and many illustrative examples, which is ussually a great flaw in almost all of the classical texts (Hamermesh's, Weyl's and Wigner's ). Finally, the book is self-contained and leads, without elaborated mathematics (or which is even better, with the virtue of not making it look complicated), to the applications and the problem-solving strategy.

Sophocles is the master of Greek drama and a master at contstructing a plot. Antigone is excellent and turns into an amazing story that leaves you rethinking just who the "tragic hero" of the play is. Oedipus at Colonus is perhaps the saddest play of the so called "Oedipus Cycle". Yet, in a way, it has a very redeeming end. This is a great edition because, of course like all the Loeb series, it also has the Greek.

Robert Fagles is an excellent translator generally, and if you have never read the Greek classics before, I would recommend this one. He puts more emotion and excitement into the plays than most of his contemporaries do.

However, even though I love Fagles and was quite impressed by his Homer translations, his Aeschylus is probably not the best out there. If you are looking to truly study Aeschylus rather than just read it for pleasure, I would recommend, instead, the Lattimore translation. It is far harder to get into initially, but more rewarding, as the translation is more literal yet still superb. Do not be afraid!

The Oresteia is the only extant Greek trilogy. Made up of Agememnon, The Libation Bearers, and the Eumenides the trilogy presents man's progress from blood feud to the beginnings of democracy.

Agememnon is the traditional and essential Greek tragedy. This play show mankind at its most savage. (...) It is the second generation of the curse on the house of Atreus. (...) Clytaemnestra is one of literature's great creations and a memorable character known for her cunning and ruthlessness.

The Libation Bearers continues the story. Agememnon's son Orestes plots revenge with his sister, Electra. The message here seems to be that blood begets blood. (...)

The Eumenides is the first courtroom drama. Here we witness the birth of the democratic process. (...) Man has moved from the age of the blood feud to the dawn of democracy in less than 300 pages.

On the whole the trilogy is not light reading. The Fagles translation attempts to preserve the poetry of the work to a large extent. However Aeschylus was never easy to relate to even in the 5th Century B.C. he was considered archaic. The trilogy deserves a read just on the strength of its importance to western civilazation. The reader needs a good bit of patience but will find himself rewarded if he sticks with this work.

If reading the Fagles translation it may be helpful to read the lengthy introduction "The Serpent and the Eagle" for a good guide to the work. The intro is long and somewhat tedius but it places the work in an historical perspective that is helpful as one gets deeper and deeper into the text. The textual notes are inconvieniently placed at the end of the work which make them a chore to read except for the most interested scholars.

Try this one you won't regret it.

Professor Fagles' translation of the Oresteia trilogy is the most powerful, moving, intense, bloody, achingly sad and beautiful drama I have ever read. As a typical member of the late Baby Boomer/early Gen X generation, I was never assigned such texts in school, and had the misconception that anything written by an ancient Greek must be boring, stale, and irrelevant. Fagles' Oresteia translation shows how misguided we are, and (along with his Illiad, Odyssey, and Three Theban Plays) opens up an incredible world to so many of us who have been in the dark.

Do not read this simply for your intellectual, moral, and spiritual improvement -- experience this because it is so enjoyable. "Pulp Fiction," "The Terminator," "The Titanic," Stephen King, or the latest Martin Scorcese film cannot compare for plot, intrigue, sex, violence, gore, intensity, entertainment, or cutting edge creativity.

From the plays' depiction of horrendous and unspeakable crimes to its climactic courtroom drama, you'll see why so many ancient playgoers fainted in the audience -- some women even having spontaneous miscarriages -- and why modern readers are so shocked and on the edge of their armchairs. Even if you've never read a "classic" or a "great book," read this.

Part history, part civics lesson, part horny coming-of-age story, "Master Jones Goes To Washington" describes a few weeks in the life of a (somewhat) innocent high school student picked to serve as a congressional page. Think "Almost Famous" with the rock stars replaced by politicians.

It is the late 1960's, and our hero has several weighty issues on his mind: the Vietnam war, civil rights, and how much is too much to spend on drinks for strippers. While in Washington he baby-sits a congressman's trouble-prone kids, has several rowdy after-hours adventures with his fellow pages, and gets caught doing something naughty by a future President of the United States. He even learns a thing or two about government. By the end of his story, Master Jones has lost his innocence in more ways than one.

Hugh Brown has a humorous, conversational writing style that makes you feel as if you're hearing these stories over a few beers at the local pub. This book is not for everyone. The far right crowd won't like the politics or some of the more R-rated episodes, while those just looking for crazy high jinks may be bored by the digressions into political trivia and news of the day. But if you don't mind a little sex with your politics (or a little politics with your sex) then you'll enjoy going to Washington with Master Jones.

i travel often, and when i'm on the road i look for books that can get me through the trip.not to long or to short.m.j. goes to washington was just the book for me. i planned on reading it coming and going home, but when i got to my destination i kept on reading into the night.anyone who grew up in the 60's will remember a master jones type from their school. it was a different look at what goes on inside the beltway and one of those books that you can't put down.easy reading, good story line, with a good mix of history. master jones rocks!

Described frequently as a coming-of-age tale, MJ Goes to Washington is a sweet trip down memory lane for those of us who remember 8 track tapes, the Student Protest Movement, and trying to move into adulthood despite our high school teachers. Brown's love of politics and history shine throughout this book. This book has more than one main theme. The preoccupation that teenage boys have with sex is one theme that occurs throughout. There are some touching parts such as the kid (Brown) who can't get enough of Washington strip clubs at night while he limps around in a pair of blister-making shoes during the day. In addition to the part of the story that appeals to everyone who remembers what it was like to be a teenager, MJ Goes to Washington is an incredibly well-researched summary of the late 60's.

This book was required reading for one of my undergraduate history classes. I've picked it up once again some 12 years after having read it the first time, and am happy to recommend it as a quality history of Constantine's conversion to the faith.

Jones does not spend a significant amount of time with Constantine's vision of the Chi Rho at the battle of the Milvian Bridge. This is proper because the most important thing about that event is what occurs afterwards.

This is a fair history with minimal amounts of speculation. Jones accurately states that we know little of Constantine's personal relationship with God. We have a historical record that, at first, is a witness of a somewhat ambiguous conversion and then speaks to a sort of "learning curve" where Constantine gets comfortable with his new Christian identity.

Constantine's first attitude toward the Christian faith seems to be that of a minimal insider. His first act was to cease persecutions and enact laws that tolerated the Christian faith. Interestingly, this emperor of an uncertain conversion (you get the impression he didn't know what to do with his faith) immediately began to intervene in Christian relgious affairs. Unfortunately, his conversion may have been too much of a "good thing" for the Christian church. Jones develops this theme well.

It had been Roman imperial custom for the emperor to decide what was pleasing to the gods. In this sense, Constantine seems to have struggled with this role in a Christian milieu. As compared to the pagan religions, Christianity had a well established hierarchical priesthood. And this, as Jones relates, is a powerful dynamic in Christian history - a struggle to find the right accommodation between Church and state.

Jone's work is a very good history. It is brief but packed with interesting data regarding not only Constantine but the early struggles of the Church in refuting error. Any student of early Church history or european history for that matter would enjoy this work.

in the course of Roman history, Jones aptly threads the line between historical analysis and narrative. He assuredly begins the book with a brief, yet astute history of Christianity in the Roman empire and carries through to the legal decrees establishing Christianity as the most favored religion of the empire. Yet, he does not forget to speculate on the plebeian reaction to Constantine's refusal to sacrifice to the Capitoline gods after his ascension to the throne.

This book is a wonderful place to begin the exploration of Christianity's role in the Roman empire.

This small, well-written volume does an admirable job of recreating the volatility of the theological-political cusp which the Roman empire found itself in the early 4th century. The primary instigator of this momentous transition, the Emperor Constantine, is rendered in a balanced, but somewhat muted, portrait. Beginning with an excellent explication of the root causes of Roman social and political difficulties in the 3rd century, Jones focuses quickly on the religious milieu of the times. In a few well-crafted paragraphs, he clearly illustrates Christianity's parallels and divergences from the other contemporary popular cults. This is combined with a somewhat bland recounting of Constantine's path to power and reasoned speculation concerning his famous pre-Malvian "vision," acceptance or rejection of which will largely depend on personal taste. Sounds good to me, though. Where the book really shines, though, is in its detailed portrayal of the bitter fractious disputes within the Church, and how they mercilessly frustrated Constantine's wish for theocratic unity. Seventeen centuries later, the Emperor's rage and consternation are still fresh in his letters.

A.H.M. Jones' exhaustive and resourceful two-volume work on the "Later Roman Empire," is a definite recommendation for anyone seeking a deeper perspective of the times, although for informal reading it is not suggested. Over three hundred years are covered elaborately in twelve-hundred pages, and also the appendix itself is roughly five-hundred pages, though much of it will not be intelligible to general readers, since much of the information in it is preserved in the original Latin. Jones' work is a fountain head of research material, broken into two parts: the first is a basic overview of the religious, political, and military conditions of the empire; and the second part, which is more bulky and detailed, is an overview of the social, economic, and administrative aspects of the empire. With this, and J.B. Bury's two-volume work on the "Later Roman Empire," one may boast of holding two of the greater achievements in scholarship on this particular area of study.

This mammoth work guides the reader through all aspects of the later Roman Empire showering facts and sources upon him. It is better, perhaps, as a source of reference than as bedtime reading, for its sheer size and density of fact would exhaust all but the most avid and concentrated historians of the period.

The most useful aspect of it must be the incredibly detailed source references, which comprise the fourth volume of his work. This enables those who have not the time or energy to wade through the entire book to use it as the definitive piece of reference for the period.

As a med student, i found this book extremely useful in that it achieved the impossible: make molecular genetics easy to understand (no only memorize info). The explanations about the processes within such a small nucleus... $60 weel spent!

Although this book is intended for the "next generation", I found it well worth reading, and was impressed with Ms. Hunt's thorough and detailed coverage of the assassination, and its aftermath, including an examination of every possible theory as to "who killed JFK". Being a large-size "coffee table" book, there are, of course, many photographs, which adds immensely to its impact. "JFK for a New Generation" is a great addition to the subject for both newcomers and oldtimers alike.