In Aeschylus’s Oresteia a chain of events that begins with Agamemnon’s murderous sacrifice of his daughter Iphigenia leads to his own murder by his wife Clytemnestra, and her murder by their son Orestes. In Euripides’ Iphigenia in Tauris Iphigenia does NOT die, instead Artemis whisks her away from the sacrificial alter at the last moment and installs her as a priestess at the goddess’ temple in Tauris, while everyone back in Greece believes she is dead. It is the practice in Tauris to sacrifice to Artemis any foreigners who land on its shores, and Iphigenia’s role there is to ritually cleanse victims before they meet their doom.
Orestes, in an attempt to escape the Furies, lands on Tauris, is captured, and brought to the temple to be sacrificed. The central portion of the play is brother and sister coming to recognize own another and plotting their escape. Iphigenia’s cunning and bravery make it seem possible. Their escape is aided by Apollo but thwarted by Artemis and Poseidon. Just when all seems lost, Athene, as deus ex machina, appears from above to set all to right.
We may scoff at deus ex machina as a stage gimmick, but Iphigenia in Tauris is astoundingly theatrical. When I imagine it performed on a classic Greek stage as part of a larger religious festival, I experience compassion, suspense, foreboding, irritation, and catharsis. This is wonderful drama. It is about friendship, family, fate, chance, hope, fear, bravery, and the gods. Iphigenia in Tauris is not Greek tragedy narrowly defined as a tale of hubris and a resulting fall. Rather, I see Iphigenia and Orestes as victims of their parents’ hubris.
In addition to amplifying and commenting on the action, the Chorus in Iphigenia in Tauris is itself a character playing an active role. The play includes a sidebar on Apollo's infancy in Delphi. To read the description of that awe-some place written some 2,500 years ago, and to have experienced it in person myself just two years ago was stirring.
I used Gilbert Murray’s 1911 translation in rhymed couplets, and was somewhat surprised to find it quite readable, and without the distraction of too-obvious rhyming. His introductory essay on Euripides was very much worthwhile.