Jocasta

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a Sphinx - part woman, bird, and lion too...
When she learned the king's power, And what she asks is strange as well: four legs,
Jocasta lost delight in being queen. then two, then three. What can it be? No one
Laius was a cold, dry man. Looking at him knows the answer. No one.
brought the image of her baby, his feet
pierced and bound, her baby left to die The Sphinx brought pestilence and
in the mountain slope. They would drought. Rivers and streams and dry, vines
have no other children. shriveled. But until her riddle was solved,
the creature would not leave. On the gates
I remember Laius drunk that night, crying she stayed, her destructive song echoing
for Chrysippus, the source of his curse. from empty wells.
Wanting this boy, he took me instead
and threw me on my back to have his way. My life is a toad. All day and all night
I am fifteen and afraid to resist the Sphinx. We cannot escape her song.
and tell myself it is my husband's right; Song! More like wail or whine or scream.
the gods decree a wife obey her spouse. Laius is useless as always. Deceitful
man, I hate him, hate his touch.
Sober, Laius recalls Apollo's threat:
our son will kill him, beget upon me. On the sunswept road to Delphi,
Nine months drag like oxen ploughing. Laius was killed. The servant reporting
With icy eyes Laius watches me swell. the death begged Jocasta to let him tend
I fear the gods and beg Hera for a girl, flocks in the hills. Sending him on his way,
but as foretold, I give birth to a son. she shut herself in the palace.
Laius takes the child to bind its feet.
The baby cries, and Laius turns away. The prophecy was false. How can that be
He summons a servant and orders me to hand if the gods control all things? For surely chance
my baby over, threatening me when I cry. does not...no, no. Yet Laius killed our son
The king will keep his own hands clean. and not the other way. That sin diseased
his soul. I bless the gods that I,
At the public altar, Laius at last, am free.
offered ritual bulls and lambs in ritual
slaughter. The everburning fire raged I dream of my baby night after night.
so the offerings charred, and Jocasta He is dancing for the gods with bound feet.
trembled at the gods' displeasure. I do not understand how he can dance so.
When he jumps, he trips, falling in a heap.
Upon the gates this dawn, a strange creature The gods just laugh and turn away to drink.
appeared and woke all Thebes. In raucous voice I sit ravelling knots. The knots become a rope.
she cried, "A riddle. Who'll solve my riddle?" I wake shaking and muffle my tears in the sheets.
At first our people came to gawk, then marvel.
Some trembled, children hid their heads and cried.
I've heard old tales the minstrels sing of her,
but never did expect to really see
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Thebes prospered these years:
"Man" answered the young stranger the gnarled olive bent lower with fruit.
whose red hair caught the sun's rays, Lambs frisked in the fields and pipers'
and the riddle was solved. True to her songs rang through the hills. Jocasta had
promise, the Sphinx dashed herself to four children. Psalms of joy were sung
death. Thebes was free. and danced for the gods.

Hailing their hero, the people With four children, the hours run away.
elected Oedipus king. Gratefully, Their hunger, games and tears take all my time.
he accepted the rule and with it the hand In bed, with Oedipus, I sleep in peace.
of Thebes' queen, Jocasta. He was at first my headstrong bull, but now
he is what a man, a king, should be.
I see the young Oedipus in radiant I like to see him walking in the yard,
sunlight, Apollo blinding me to all his funny stiff gait, his hair burnished
but young and vital strength. Deep in myself by Apollo's brilliant rays.
I feel a pulsebeat, something asleep
begins to wake, as though a dormant seed Mine turns grey but he doesn't seem to mind.
sends up a shoot, opens a leaf. I love this youth. Our love has brought to me the joy that I missed
My sun, I rise to him and with him. when I was young and thought I'd never know.
At last, I lay to rest my little boy,
From a land of rock and misery, Thebes his shadow vanished now from all my dreams.
became a bower. Brilliant poppies
dotted the land. The wells filled, crops 3
flourished, and the flocks grew fat again.
Years of plenty at an end, Thebes
was inflicted with drought. The earth
burned as crops withered, cattle and
Before the people's eyes, Jocasta sheep sickened.
became young. Her dark hair gleamed, her
eye was bright and her laughter cheered While days were once too short, now each one drags
the halls of the palace. a slow furrow, the earth heavy with heat,
lament and prayer. When I go to the fields
Oedipus has become my Apollo warming the women clutch my gown and plead my help.
my days and nights. I am eighteen again Too many children sicken. The healthy droop.
with poppies in my hair. I am the poppies, At home, girls sit listless, my sons tangle
bright little blooms with milk in them. while Oedipus complains that his ankles twinge.
Like them, I seem to spring from rocky ground. He limps and growls just like a wounded pup.
Like their color and his hair, our love flames.
Jocasta, very grey now, walked
Sweet Aphrodite, you rush through me, a stream with a more measured step. More than
until you burst like foam that crests the sea. a loving wife, she was also counsellor
Your blessing washes what was once a barren to Oedipus.
ground. I walk among the roses, feel
your blush upon my cheeks. Oh lovely goddess, Blaming himself because the land is parched,
I send you swans and doves. Oedipus frets alarmed he's failed the gods
 in some unknown way, searching within himself. Corinth wished Oedipus to return
In turn, I pray, lighting fire after fire, and rule. Fearing he would sleep with
but none burn true. I call on Aphrodite his mother, Oedipus refused. Nothing
and offer her doves, but they flap their wings to fear, the messenger assured. Merope
and peck each others' eyes. When I ask Apollo was a barren woman.
to dim his eye, his answer scalds.
Jocasta began to tremble. Her hands
No relief at hand, Oedipus sought rose to cover her mouth.
aid from Delphi. The report came back
a confusing riddle about Laius' death. What's this? What's this? What words do I hear?
Suspecting treason, Oedipus feared How can I shut his silly mouth, tell him
conspiracy against his own throne. Go. Leave. We will not heed your words.
My tongue stops, rooted in my mouth.
Oedipus needs someone to blame. He calls
Creon traitor, Tiresias false seer. I look at Oedipus. He does not see
I take him in my arms and stroke his hair. me watching him. His face is strained, his eyes
He tells me what Tiresias has foreseen. are glaring blue. I try to stop the questions.
I laugh and tell him I too once believed "Oedipus, I beg you, do not hear this out."
that prophesy controlled our lives, that seers
had magic vision the rest of us did not. When Oedipus insisted, the
I tell the story of Laius, how it messenger told the story of the king's
was foretold he would die at his son's hand infancy, -- how he, a shepherd then,
and how the baby died when one week old. had helped to save the king's life
when a baby, a baby with bound feet.
As I speak I feel so strange, as though my tale
came from another life about someone else. Oh God. Oh cold, gold god. Apollo,
you chill me. My mind is ice, and I hear
My words do not comfort, they flame new fears. my mouth say freezing words to Oedipus.
He relates what drove him from home, tales that he To my husband. My son. "God keep you from
would kill his father and bring rank fruit the knowledge of who you are. Unhappy,
from his mother's womb. He fears that he has Oedipus, my poor, damned Oedipus,
been cursed. Dear gods, how can I comfort him? that is all I can call you, and the last thing
I shall ever call you."

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From Corinth, a messenger Her face ashen, Jocasta rushed

brought news of Polybus' death, into the palace, her hands showing her
the king whom Oedipus called father. the way to her own quarters. She
ordered the guards to let no one in.
You say that Polybus is dead. Dare I Ignoring all offers of help, she commanded
greet death with joy? Can that be blasphemy? her women to leave her alone.
My heart flies into song: His father's dead -
my Oedipus lives safe. His prophesy I can't believe. I can't believe. Oh God.
is false. Is false as Laius' was. Oh bless He is my son. I've loved my son but not
your fate, dear love, you need no longer fear. as mothers should, but in my bed, in me.
 All that I loved most, his youth that made Moving decisively, she walked to the
our love the summer sun, wrong, all wrong. doors and bolted them, straining against
Vile. He caressed me here and here. And I their heavy weight. The women on the other
returned his touch. Odious hands. My flesh side called to her, but again she bade them
crawls with worms. go away.

My God, we've had four children. Falling on her hands and knees, she pummeled
her stomach as though to punish her
womb. As she did, she called her child --
In her chamber, she looked at her ren's names, one name, Oedipus, again
bed, sat on it, then jumped up as though and again.
stung. Covering her eyes with her hands
she shook her head back and forth, again I thought him buried, forgotten. But no,
and again, her body rocking. for countless days and nights these many years
he's thrust himself on me instead. My bed
Oh, Oedipus, what good was our love if once stained with birthing blood is now forever
it comes only to shame? To children whom stained; what once was love became a rank
all Thebes can curse? Such children, even ours, corruption.
are rightly damned.
Rising painfully, sore, she turned
Although we could not know who we were to the small altar in her chamber.
and loved in innocence, still we are monsters Smashing a jar which held incense, she
in the eyes of god and man. Our names will mean began in a voice of char to call on
disgrace and guilt forever. Apollo and Aphrodite.

Walking to her dressing table, As she raised her eyes, she raised
she stood before it picking up small her fist and shook it against
objects: combs, a gold box, a pair of the silent air.
brooches. Noticing a bracelet given her
by her father when she was a bride, Apollo, you blinded me to his scars,
she let forth a dreadful groan. his age, any resemblance to Laius.
And you, Aphrodite, cruel sister of the sun,
Oh Laius, Laius, you brought this one on me. set my woman's body afire, matching my
My fate was sealed my wedding day. Chrysippus ripe years and hungers with his youth and strength.
was innocent as I; for you this curse Paralyzing my mind, you inflamed my heart.
was uttered, a curse that falls on me. Oh,
that I must bear the shame, that I must be The years I prayed to you and praised you
destroyed by your corruption. And our son, were all charade. You so enjoyed my dance.
because you sinned, is ruined, damned. We are all fools to trifle with, your joke.

My marriage day...what choices did I have? We tremble to question what the future holds.
As many as the night you came to me. As though it matters, we think asking will spoil
The only choice a woman has is that she wed our luck, but your injustice mocks all hope.
accepting what the gods and men decree.
It is not just. It can never be right. I hear a chant pounding inside my head.
Five babies. Five abominations.
As though a chorus raises call to prayer.
Five babies. Five abominations.

No call to prayer. It is a call to curse

the gods. No longer will I be their fool.

From her robe, she removed her

braided belt. As she looped its strands,
she heard, from the courtyard, a man's
voice scream in anguish. Undeflected, she
tied the necessary knots, slipping the loop
back and forth. Satisfied, she settled
the noose around her neck.

Five babies cursed by heavenly whim,

cursed in their lives without chance or hope.
Mothers ought not love their children so.

Gathering her skirts, she climbed

up on the stool.

And wives be more than merely bedside pawns.

Those who cannot shape their lives are better
dead.

She stepped onto the air.

-----RUTH F. EISENBERG
[b. 1927]
“Jocasta” Explication
Ruth Eisenberg’s “Jocasta” is broken up into 5 sections. It begins success and individuality are inherently hindered, is described in this
with Jocasta expressing discontent at her husband Laius for not only work. Jocasta mentions, “…and tell myself it is my husband’s right;/ the
oppressing her against her will, when pertaining to that of sexual gods decree a wife obey her spouse…” (13-14). Another tenet of the
tendencies, but also for leaving their baby son on a mountainslope. After feminist ideal is indicative of the idea that women are not treated as
this, she mentions that a Sphinx comes to plague Thebes, because no one equals; rather they are seen as entities that fulfill a man’s every desire.
can solve the riddle, the Sphinx brings drought and pestilence. After the This, in laymen’s terms, is called anti-objectification. Throughout, she is
Sphinx, the author mentions that Laius was killed on a road, and Jocasta just seen as an entity to that of Laius, and does not merit any human
expresses her happiness, because she believes the prophesy will not status around him. He treats her like a sexual object. Jocasta mentions
come true. She yearns for her baby night after night, and the thought of this one again by saying, “Wanting his boy, he took me instead/and
her baby plagues her. Section 2 begins by telling how Oedipus not only threw me on my back to have his way./ I am fifteen and afraid to
solves the riddle of the Sphinx, but also becomes king and marries resist…” (10-12). Jocasta finally exemplifies the final tenet, which is rage
Jocasta. She immediately mentions that she is quite in love with him. The against patriarchy, when Laius is murdered. That gives her the chance to
two bear four children and live a very happy marriage. In part 3, Thebes find a lover, who treats her slightly better than Laius.
once again is in shambles, but rather than a drought this time, Thebes is
troubled with a plague. Jocasta discusses Oedipus’s story, in how he The style that Eisenberg uses is one that shows the story of
attempted to seek aid from Delphi and when matters got worse, he Oedipus through the eyes of Jocasta. Jocasta not only discusses her
blamed Creon and Tersias. She becomes increasingly worried about her feelings, but also clearly narrates a good chunk of the poem. The poem,
husband and wonders in what way she can comfort him. Section 4 talks though, quite often shifts from the first person point of view to the third
of how Jocasta still believes that her beloved Oedipus is safe from the person point of view. Also, Eisenberg utilizes various metaphors such as
prophesy, considering it is apparently false. Slowly she realizes that this “My life is a toad”. By utilizing this, the story turns into quite the
is untrue and that the prophesy could very well be true. In the 5th and elaborate and detailed piece of work.
final portion, Jocasta realizes that Oedipus is her son and becomes
extremely ashamed of herself for her inadvertent incestuous mannerism. Finally, in comparison to Sophocle’s interpretation of Oedipus Rex,
She questions what good their love is if it is tainted with shame and then Eisenberg’s “Jocasta” is extremely similar to it. The poem discusses the
mentions that their children are cursed. She blames Laius for her story of Oedipus in a more concise fashion, but nonetheless it is quite
misfortunes and realizes that regardless of the situation, this happening detailed. Furthermore, the poem portray Oedipus as an extremely
was destined by the prophesy. She curses the gods, makes a noose out of helpless soul. The poem differs from Sophocles’ interpretation,
her belt, and then commits suicide. considering that in the poem , Jocasta’s viewpoint is highlighted and
most of the concern of the poem encompasses the tenets of feminism. It
In Eisenberg’s poem, much of it is imbued with feminist ideas and also shows the rationale behind every single one of Jocasta’s decisions.
feminist principles. Among these tenets (deriving from “Raping Barbie”) Overall, this was a refreshing poem, considering that rather than looking
are role isolationism, rage against patriarchy, and finally anti- at Oedipus from the traditional masculine view, “Jocasta” puts a
objectification. First the theme of role isolationism, which encompasses completely new spin upon that of the traditional Oedipus story.
the idea that based on gender, one’s opportunities to strive towards