Commentary for "The May Poles and Their Queen".

Authors Avatar

Sophie Anne Stott

Commentary for “The May Poles and Their Queen”.

When reading the Greek myth Orpheus, I was immediately struck by the heroism of the central character. Orpheus is the classic male hero, overcoming all obstacles to bring back his beloved Eurydice, only to be eventually thwarted by something even more powerful than his heroism: his own love. Because of the essentially classical, romanticized nature of Orpheus, I felt it would be an ideal source text for a modern-day interpretation.

         In order to gain a better understanding of the text, I initially adopted, in Stuart Hall’s terms, the ‘preferred’ reading; that is, how the audience are ‘meant’ to read a text, who they are expected to empathise with and what conclusions they are meant to draw. Applying Greimas’s structuralist scheme, I found it easy to identify Orpheus as the ‘subject’ or, according to Propp’s ‘spheres of influence’, the ‘hero’. Orpheus can also be identified as Propp’s ‘donor’ figure through his extraordinary skill at playing the lyre, which provides him with apparently limitless power when it comes to charming the gods of the underworld. The ‘sender’ would be Eurydice, for dying and subsequently ‘sending’ Orpheus on his quest to the underworld. The ‘villain’ could be Aristaeus for chasing Eurydice, or any of the creatures of the underworld for opposing Orpheus. Alternatively, and perhaps more interestingly, the ‘villain’ could be Orpheus’s own love, which is so strong it forces him to look back, and lose his wife forever. Eurydice can also be identified as Greimas’s ‘object’ or Propp’s ‘princess’: the ‘object’ of Orpheus’s quest, whose only ‘skill’ is to be desired by the ‘subject’, Orpheus.

        I also applied Tzvetan Tordorov’s theory that there is a similar narrative framework to all stories. For Todorov, a story usually begins with a state of peace and harmony, an ‘equilibrium’: Orpheus has his love, his music and is happy. This then evolves into ‘disruption’: Eurydice dies and Orpheus must journey to the underworld to bring her back. Then Orpheus attempts to repair the ‘disequilibrium’, by charming the creatures of the underworld. Next, according to Todorov, a ‘new equilibrium’ is often found. However, in Orpheus, this is not the case. Eurydice is left in the underworld and Orpheus’s head is left singing alone in the upper world, still crying out for his lost love, unable to find his ‘new equilibrium’ by being denied even unity in death.

        Applying these structuralist theories, I found, only served to emphasize the essentially patriarchal nature of the myth. The literary theorist Terry Eagleton talks of how “[a text’s] blindnesses, what it does not say and how it does not say it… [is] maybe as important as what it articulates” (Eagleton, 1996) i.e. the ‘untold’ story, the ‘gaps’ in the original tale, can allow for additional perspectives other than the conventional, ‘preferred’ reading. In reference to Orpheus, I felt that the character of Eurydice, and her account of events, was a very important ‘blindness’, which had been largely ignored by Greek mythology. Because of this, I decided to adopt a more ‘oppositional reading’, as Hall would characterise it, and subsequently, a more ‘feminist’ approach, making Eurydice the classic hero.

Join now!

This opened up a variety of possibilities to me concerning the other roles. Could Orpheus (or Christian in my re-working) now become the ‘villain’, his ‘quest’, from her perspective, becoming more akin to a ‘hunting down’? The ‘object’ could now become Edie’s desire to be recognised and appreciated. Could Christian’s ‘underworld’ not be Edie’s ‘new equilibrium’? I also thought it would be interesting to strip Christian of his ‘donor’ role by making his musical talent all a façade. I felt that it was a perfectly reasonable reading of the original text to believe that the reason Orpheus ‘required’ Eurydice was ...

This is a preview of the whole essay