Clytemnestra

by Costanza Casati

There is no peace for a woman with ambition No love for a woman with a crown She loves too much she is lustful

Her power is too strong she is ruthless She fights for vengeance she is mad Kings are brilliant mighty godlike Queens are deadly shameless accursed

‘Ambition, courage, distrust. You will be queens soon enough and that is what you will need if you want to outlive the men who’ll wish to be rid of you.’

‘I’m saying that it is hard to find a man who is really strong. Strong enough not to desire to be stronger than you.’

Heroes like him are made of greed and cruelty: they take and take until the world around them is stripped of its beauty.

But it is easy to turn to the weakest when you are racked with pain, to hurt those who can’t defend themselves when you are unable to hurt those who have hurt you. This is how the world works, raging gods forcing nymphs and humans into submission, heroes taking advantage of lesser men and women, kings and princes exploiting slaves.

‘People aren’t always as strong as they look,’ he told her. ‘Strength comes from many different things, and one of those is purpose.’

‘Every day you try to forget, but at night you dream of the past. This is what dreams are for. To make us remember what we were, to tie us down to our memories, whether we like it or not.’

As for queens, they are either hated or forgotten. She already knows which option suits her better. Let her be hated for ever.

She knows that, in moments of pain, some words are spoken with a harshness that is not truly meant. But, even so, words can grow roots inside one’s heart. You can bury them, hoping they will wither and die, but roots keep finding something to latch on to.

Human lives are based on pain. But to have a few moments of happiness, lightning tearing the darkness of the sky, that is worth it.