House of Names

"House of Names is a retelling of the story of Clytemnestra, Iphigenia and Agamemnon. For those who don’t know, Agamemnon sacrifices his eldest daughter, Iphigenia, in order for the gods to provide winds to get the fleet going. But Colm Tóibín’s book is about the people on the sidelines. Iphigenia doesn’t tell her story, and Agamemnon isn’t telling his story; it’s Clytemnestra, and it’s Iphigenia’s siblings Orestes and Electra. It is almost unbearable to read, especially the beginning, because despite what I just said about knowing what’s going to happen, you really hope that it’s not going to happen. Clytemnestra is trying desperately to save her child. She and Iphigenia have been tricked into coming to the Greek camp, where Iphigenia thinks she’s going to marry Achilles, and instead discovers she’s going to be sacrificed. And it’s a way of looking at the ramifications – at what happens afterwards. Agamemnon just acts like nothing has happened, really. And Clytemnestra has ten years to plot her revenge, which she does in gruesome form. There are also the political ramifications – they’re supposed to be ruling this kingdom, and the royal family is busy murdering each other. Tóibín looks at all those other people who’ve been affected by this choice. So retellings, then, are a way of seeing the story through fresh eyes. You know the story, but maybe you haven’t considered: what was it like for Orestes? What was it like for Electra? Clytemnestra is often portrayed as just this blood-thirsty woman who kills her husband, kills Cassandra, takes a lover… But then, when you know the full horror of what she was exposed to with her daughter being sacrificed, it’s amazing she lasted so long before killing Agamemnon! So it’s a very powerful retelling, and it makes you think about the story from other people’s points of view. As writers and also as readers, we tend to get caught up in the point of view of whoever’s telling the story. Part of you can think, “Well, what choice did Agamemnon have? He was the leader of the Greeks. They’re getting restless. They need to set sail. The gods have insisted. Who is he to disagree? You have to obey the gods”. You can go along with it. But telling the story from the viewpoint of the rest of the family really stops you short. He is very much staying within the Greek world; he’s not trying for a modern response. But the family is horrified – no one in the family shrugs and says, “Oh well, what can you do? That’s how it is.” Their response is very human , exactly as you might expect. And Clytemnestra no longer believes in the gods anyway, so for her, the futility of it… That’s a very interesting point that Tóibín makes, that unless you believe, all of this is pointless. So I don’t think there is an attempt to put a modern sensibility here – although there is in one of the other books I’ve chosen…"