Her mother thinks she’s mental. The chorus do too, and she probably is, but beneath the mania, there’s a point she’s trying to make—just ’cause their lives are fucked, it doesn’t mean they’ve nothing left. There’s always something left for the person who remembers. And Hecuba and her go back and forth, and it seems just an agon between madness and reason, but it’s not only that. It’s despair and meaning that are being pitted against one another, and it’s asking, if meaning departs from reason, might there not be wisdom in a faith-filled lunacy?
