Skip to content
MythosPedia

Greek hero

Cassandra


In Aeschylus' Agamemnon there is a woman standing silent in a chariot for nearly three hundred lines. Clytemnestra addresses her and gets no answer; the chorus tries; she says nothing. Then, when the queen has gone inside, she breaks out in a cry to Apollo and begins to see.

What follows is the most harrowing sequence in Greek tragedy. Cassandra sees the house's past — the children of Thyestes butchered and served to their father — and then its present, in real time: the bath, the net, the axe, the bull struck down, her own death coming after. The chorus of Argive elders can follow her account of the past perfectly well and cannot understand a word about the future. They tell her, politely, that they are lost.

Then she puts off the prophet's staff and the wreaths, tramples them, walks to the door, recoils from the smell of blood inside, and goes in anyway, saying that she prays only for a clean stroke. Nobody in ancient literature walks into a house knowing exactly what is waiting there in quite that way.

Where the curse comes from

The standard version — attested in Aeschylus and in Apollodorus and elsewhere — is that Apollo gave her the gift of prophecy in order to win her, and when she took the gift and refused him, he could not withdraw it, so he added the condition that she would never be believed. In one telling he asked for a single kiss and spat into her mouth.

An older and stranger variant appears in the scholiasts and in Servius: she and her twin brother Helenus were left overnight in the temple of Thymbraean Apollo as infants, and were found in the morning with serpents licking their ears, after which both could hear the future. Helenus is believed. She is not.

That parallel is the sharpest thing in her story. Her twin brother has the same gift by the same means, becomes a respected seer, is consulted by the Greeks, survives the war and ends as a king in Epirus. The difference between them is not the accuracy of the prophecy.

What she predicts and nobody acts on

  • The wooden horse. She and the priest Laocoön both warn against bringing it inside; Virgil's Aeneid 2 says a god had stopped up the Trojans' minds, and adds bitterly that they wreathed the temples with festal boughs on their last day.
  • Paris. She recognises him when he arrives at Troy as an unknown competitor at the games and identifies him as her lost brother; in some versions she urges he be killed to save the city.
  • Her own death and Agamemnon's, in the Agamemnon.
  • The sack of Troy generally, from the beginning.

The Iliad is much quieter about her: she appears as the most beautiful of Priam's daughters and is the first to see Priam returning with Hector's body, and Homer does not give her prophetic powers at all. The gift and the curse are developments of the tradition after Homer, most powerfully by Aeschylus.

The sanctuary, the statue, and Ajax

At the sack of Troy she takes refuge at the image of Athena — the Palladium — clinging to it as a suppliant, and Ajax the Lesser, son of Oileus, drags her away and rapes her, in some versions pulling the statue over as she holds it.

This is not a marginal detail. The Greeks' failure to punish the sacrilege is the standard explanation for the disasters of their homeward voyages: Athena's anger, the storm at Cape Caphereus, the scattered fleet. The scene was painted by Polygnotos in the Lesche of the Cnidians at Delphi and appears constantly on vases and in Roman art.

The Locrian Maidens are the astonishing footnote. The people of Opuntian Locris, Ajax's homeland, sent two girls of noble family every year to serve in the temple of Athena at Troy as expiation — a practice that ancient sources say lasted for a thousand years, that is corroborated by a surviving third-century BCE inscription setting out the terms in legal detail, and that involved the girls running from the ship to the sanctuary while the local population was entitled to attack them if they were caught outside it. A city maintaining an annual penance for a mythological crime, under written contract, is one of the most concrete intersections of myth and institution in the Greek world.

The name Alexandra, and a very strange poem

She is also called Alexandra, and that is the title of one of the most difficult texts in Greek: Lycophron's Alexandra, of the third or second century BCE, a poem of 1,474 lines consisting almost entirely of her prophecy, reported by a guard to Priam. It is deliberately obscure — proper names are almost never used, everything is periphrasis and riddle — and it covers the whole future from the fall of Troy to the rise of Rome. It was studied and commented on for centuries precisely because it is hard, and it is the single largest ancient text devoted to her.

The complex

The Cassandra complex or Cassandra syndrome entered psychological and then general usage in the twentieth century — Gaston Bachelard used the term in 1949, and the psychoanalyst Melanie Klein wrote on the figure — and it now names the situation of a person whose valid warnings are dismissed. It is applied constantly to climate scientists, epidemiologists, financial analysts before crashes and safety engineers, usually by people who have not read the play.

The application is not quite right and the mismatch is interesting. Cassandra is not disbelieved because her warnings are unwelcome or because she communicates badly; she is disbelieved because a god arranged that she would be, and no improvement in her evidence or delivery could change it. The real Cassandra problem is that being right is not sufficient — which is a bleaker proposition than the way the term is normally used.

Modern versions

Christa Wolf's Kassandra (1983) is the major modern treatment: a novel in the form of the woman's final thoughts outside Agamemnon's palace, written in East Germany and read at the time as being about the arms race and about dissent under a state that will not hear. Marion Zimmer Bradley, Margaret Atwood in The Penelopiad's margins, and Pat Barker's Trojan novels all use her.

Aeschylus remains the reason she matters. She is also, incidentally, one of the very few Greek tragic characters given a death she chooses to walk toward, in full knowledge, without hope of altering it, and with something close to composure.

What Homer actually gives her, and what later writers added

Did she have children?

Aeschylus does not say; Euripides' Trojan Women and later tradition give her twin sons by Agamemnon, Teledamus and Pelops, killed by Aegisthus with their father. Pausanias reports a tomb of Cassandra at Amyclae near Sparta, and another claim at Mycenae, with the two cities disputing which held her. She had hero-cult at Amyclae under the name Alexandra, in a sanctuary shared with Agamemnon, which is documented by inscription.

Was Helenus really believed?

Yes, and consistently. He is captured by Odysseus, tells the Greeks the conditions under which Troy can fall — the bow of Heracles, the bones of Pelops, the Palladium — and his information is acted on immediately and works. He then survives, is given Andromache, and founds a city in Epirus, where Aeneas visits him in Aeneid 3. The contrast with his sister could hardly be sharper and no ancient source draws attention to it.

Is the "never believed" curse in Homer?

No. Homer gives her no prophetic gift. The developed version appears in the lyric and tragic poets, and Pindar refers to her as a prophetess. The Cypria and the other cyclic epics, surviving in summary, seem to have had her warning about Paris and the horse. So the curse as we know it is a post-Homeric development that reached its final form on the Athenian stage.

What is the Palladium?

An ancient wooden image of Athena, said to have fallen from heaven, on which Troy's safety depended — which is why the Greeks had to steal it, in a night raid by Odysseus and Diomedes, before the city could fall. Cassandra's assault at the statue is therefore an outrage committed at the city's most sacred object. Rome later claimed to possess it, brought from Troy by Aeneas and kept in the temple of Vesta, and the word survives in English as palladium for a safeguard, and in the name of the element.

Elsewhere in Greek mythology