Athena and Women of War Spoilers

Three years after Oppenheimer, Nolan once again ignites the candle of war and holds its flickering light to the faces of all those who suffer at the hands of it. While Homer's epic poem provides the body for an awe-inspiring adaptation, the soul of it lives within the characters illuminated by pain, regret, and glory in the aftermath of one of history's most famous battles. More than a homecoming, The Odyssey tells the story of one man's ultimate violation of trust between peoples (and gods), and the journey he must endure on the path to 'redemption'. Nolan's triumph is his re-threading of the Homeric fabric into a form we recognize as the failures and fears of today's modern world.

However.

I only want to talk about Athena. Or, should I say, “Athena”.

*content warnings at very bottom of article*

In school some years ago (it's getting hazy now), I took a class entitled “Women in the Roman World of Republic and Imperial Times” and studied a textbook that I still own to this day. It contains translations of poetry, epitaphs, love letters, and ancient narratives surrounding women in antiquity. Among these narratives are the stories of women in war, retellings by Livy and Ovid, and other original sources. And they struck me to my core, in the same way Nolan's beheading of Athena's priestess did (spoiler alert).

In the IMAX version of the epic, what was so profound in Odysseus' second telling of the sacking of Troy was not just the bleeding guilt he feels for his wrongdoings, nor the violence and wrath of his men, finally released after 10 years, as they raze the city to the ground around him. It's his approach to Athena's temple, the goddess' likeness looking down on him. Her priestess, helpless, killed by the men he set upon her.

Athena is a virgin goddess, not just the goddess of warfare. She is the protector of the virtue of young girls and women. And what I saw in that scene was not just the violation of respect between mankind, but the repeated unnecessary violence against innocent women that somehow always sparks, or supplements, wars. Take Helen, abducted from her husband by Paris and stolen to a foreign land, the first stone that later set in motion the landslide of events encompassing the Trojan war. Take Iphigenia, Agamemnon's young daughter who he murdered in order for his army to set sail for the very same war. Take Athena's priestess, beheaded for no reason except that the Greeks craved revenge on the city they laid siege to for years, at the command of an unrelenting, selfish king.

Women have always suffered at the hands of men, and even when it is their own suffering to bear, men take that from them too.

Helen

Played beautifully by Lupita Nyong'o in the film, Helen is understandably enraged by her circumstances. She expresses distaste for her Spartan husband, Menelaus (Jon Bernthal), but whether it is because of his abuse or because she denounces his war is unclear. What is very clear is her apology, which she begs Telemachus (Tom Holland) to deliver to his mother, Penelope (Anne Hathaway).

Helen apologizes for everything that has been done in her name. She never once asked the soldiers to come to her aid. She didn't desire a battle, or death. And still, she is Helen of Troy, the epicenter of all suffering in the aftermath a war she “caused”. The fact that her apology is meant for Penelope's ears alone shows Helen's understanding that while the war was not her decision, it will forever be her fault. Most probably, only a woman would be unoffended by this, whereas her warrior husband may see it as Helen condemning his glory.

Iphigenia

Agamemnon's daughter, in Homer's poem ‘betrothed’ to Achilles, was marched to where the Greek army was stranded on the coastline. Her father had bragged and bet his men that he was a better hunter than the goddess of the hunt herself, Artemis. Shooting one of her sacred deer, Agamemnon found his sails had fallen. The goddess had damned his journey to Troy, and Agamemnon knew he must make a horrific sacrifice in order to get his campaign back on the seas.

Iphigenia, told she was to wed Greece's strongest soldier, arrived happily at her marriage alter - only for her throat to be slit by the one man who was meant to protect her. It's upon her death that Artemis grants the Greek army a wind, so that they may sail on to war, and more bloodshed.

Nolan shows this briefly in a flashback, where Agamemnon (Benny Safdie) carries away an infant Iphigenia while Clytemnestra (Helen's twin sister, also played by Nyong'o) cries in anguish. This choice carves an unhealable wound in Clytemnestra, who later murders her husband upon his victorious return home. I actually didn't mind Nolan's interpretation of Agamemnon. He spilled his daughter's blood before a drop of his own was drawn in battle. The golden spine, for all it's awesomeness, is the only one he has.

Cassandra

Not appearing in Nolan's film, but rather essential to the original plot, is Cassandra, Trojan princess and priestess of Apollo. Desirable for her loyalty, Apollo promises her the gift of prophecy if she might…give herself to him. Cassandra, believing that would defy her oath of chastity, refuses. Angered, he curses her so that while she can indeed see all that is to come, no one will ever believe her warnings.

Therefore, Cassandra desperately warns her brother, Paris, that he must not pursue Helen, and that a great war will result in his abduction. But he does not believe her; no one does.

During Troy's fall, Cassandra takes refuge in Athena's temple. It's here that famed Greek soldier Ajax finds her and assaults her, taking for himself what even the god Apollo did not.

This time, rather than men seeking violence for the assault or abduction of a woman, they completely ignore her warnings. For the sake of the story, yes, Cassandra is technically “cursed” - but what does the narrative say about real women in antiquity? Were they not to be trusted? Or were they actually a lot more informed than men gave them credit for?

Lucretia

My final story does not have anything at all to do with The Odyssey or even gods or Greece. It is an ancient story from Rome, a type of foundation myth that resulted in the overturn of the Roman Monarchy and birth of the Roman Republic.

Lucretia is a noblewoman, happily married. Her husband, Collatinus, is often away at war or doing other deeds. One day, Collatinus and his friend, the Roman prince Tarquin, strike a bet: who's wife is most virtuous and pious? (Eyeroll, I know). They visit both homes, and while they find Tarquin's wife with the other ladies, chatting and gossiping and consuming goods, they find Lucretia dutifully working at the loom by herself. It is decided that she is the best example of a wife.

The next time that Collatinus is away, jealous Tarquin visits Lucretia. She provides him with a meal, and a bed, but it isn't long before he sneaks into her own chamber and holds a sword to her neck. While the details are debated, it is undenied that Tarquin rapes Lucretia and flees.

Lucretia calls for her husband. In some versions of the tale, she is stoic, and removed. She behaves as if machine, knowing already what must happen next, not caring for her own wills. In others, she can barely hold herself together, shaking, timid, broken. But in all, once her husband reaches her and she tells him of the crime, she stabs herself and dies.

This is not uncommon in Greek and Roman myth. In fact, it is very common. Lucretia takes responsibility for her own dishonour. She understands that, upon her death, men will go to war for her. That somehow, it isn't enough for her to have been defiled and left to live. The only way for her honour to be restored is revenge upon her assailant, which her husband and father gladly oblige.

The horror in Lucretia's story isn't just the act committed by Tarquin, but rather Lucretia's seemingly engrained understanding that her martyrdom is the only way for her soul to be forgiven. Famously, she says:

My body only is violated; my mind is guiltless; death will be my witness. As for me, although I acquit myself of fault, I do not free myself from punishment

- Livy's ‘History of Rome’

Athena's ‘Eyes’

Why is it that women in ancient stories somehow know their fate before it is set upon them, and when it is, they feel the weight of it as their own doing? As if it was always meant to be that way? And I say ancient, but you and I are not so naive to believe these crimes have not been repeated through the centuries.

Nolan grazed the surface of these ideas, and I can understand why they were not fleshed out more fully. It's literally called The Odyssey, after all. I did like the idea that this woman, this priestess of Athena, would not let Odysseus fully rest. It was not just his soldiers that died and went unburied, but all the innocents that Odysseus' trick murdered. And she is the one who represents them.

As innocent women haunt the narratives of many a Greek myth, Nolan's Athena haunts Odysseus up until he accepts his guilt.

I'll leave you with a quote from the goddess of warfare, her response to Achilles' tantrum in Homer's Iliad:

“Down from the skies I come to check your rage, if only you will yield.”

Thank you very much for reading! I am extremely passionate about ancient Greece and Rome, and especially portrayals of women in antiquity. I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

*content warning: sexual and physical abuse of women, war, murder, harm to children