Narratives of women as witches and magic wielders abound in the literature and mythology of cultures that promote the gender binary of culture over nature, of activity over passivity and of reason over superstition. . In these patriarchal societies, women are marginalized and have no freedom to act; to get what they want, they must resort to means external to society, such as magic. Problems arise when what women want has catastrophic results for men: a number of different literary genres, including Greek mythology, Shakespeare's plays, and Roman literature, emphasize that women use magic either to bewitch a man and put him to bed, or to avenge a false lover. The anger of wronged women like Medea, Dido, and Phaedra wreaks havoc in men's lives, and the seductive powers of Cleopatra and the witches of the Odyssey prevent men from fulfilling their masculine duties. Due to the negative impact that women's magic has on the patriarchal order, the universal association between women and magic not only creates the perception of women as the "Other", but also reinforces it: because the woman is the Other, she uses magic; because she uses magic, she is the Other. Say no to plagiarism. Get a Custom Essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”?Get an Original EssayThe fact that a good number of witches are also foreigners is no coincidence; magic emphasizes the foreign nature of women, and foreign women are even more foreign than native women. Furthermore, foreign or exiled women have even less power of action and rights than others, and the only options available to them are therefore unconventional ones. When Medea is exiled from her native Colchis and then abandoned by Jason in Greece, she finds herself without any legal recourse. Politically and socially powerless, and on the verge of being exiled again, Medea resorts to witchcraft, her “natural gift” (Medea 382), in order to punish Jason for his betrayal. By poisoning Jason's new wife, murdering his sons, and killing the king of Corinth, Medea poses a serious threat to the patriarchal order. In a supreme reversal of power roles, a foreign woman prevails not only over her husband, but also over a Greek king. Medea draws a clear line between magic practiced in civilization and in so-called barbarian lands. Ironically, in Corinth, Medea is feared and reviled for the same skills that won Jason's heart in Colchis. When Medea's witchcraft helped Jason win the Golden Fleece, her magical skills were a valuable asset; in fact, they may have been his main bargaining chip to extract a marriage vow from him. However, once she moves away from her foreign and barbaric country, her once valuable talent for magic becomes strange and barbaric, not only to the Greek people, but also to her husband. No doubt, part of the reason Jason gets rid of his wife so quickly is that in Greece, her magic has no place: indeed, he accuses her of doing things that "no woman Greek would never have done” and claims that she is “not a woman at all, but a tigress” (Medea 1342-1345). The play's dark references to his pact with Hecate, the patroness of black magic, further accentuate the dangerous and subversive nature of his skills seen in the light of civilization. In Corinth, Medea's witchcraft only underlines her otherness, whereas in her native country, she perhaps did not have aalso negative connotation. In this way, Medea clearly shows civilization's horror towards women who engage in occult commerce. Like Medea, Virgil's Dido is a stranger in exile who resorts to "barbaric" forms of magic when she has no other means of expressing herself. Because Dido is the queen of Carthage, while Medea is politically at the mercy of King Creon, she seems to have more options available to her. However, a brief story given by Venus at the beginning of the poem reveals that, like Medea, Dido is also a foreigner in exile who suffered at the hands of the patriarchy. Originally from Phoenicia, Dido is forced to flee to Carthage after the death of her husband in order to escape the persecution of his tyrant brother. As Queen of Carthage, finally removed from the influence of men, she begins to build her own city and is presented as an extremely competent and fair ruler. However, when Aeneas arrives on her shore, Dido's life is once again defined by the actions of the men around her. After falling in love with him, she neglects her political duties and lets her city fall into ruin while she devotes all her time and energy to Aeneas. However, once Aeneas realizes that he must leave to found Rome, Dido is swept aside so that he can fulfill his civic duty. Just as Medea is sidelined once Jason discovers he can advance in life by marrying the Corinthian princess, Dido's wishes become secondary to Aeneas' political priorities. When all seems lost, both women resort to magic in a desperate attempt to reaffirm their own desires. When she learns of Aeneas' plan to escape during the night, a desperate Dido calls on the help of an Ethiopian priestess versed in the magical arts. . A bizarre and perverse scene ensues as Dido builds a pyre and burns an effigy of Aeneas while the wild-haired enchantress invokes the dark gods, with poisonous herbs and "a love charm torn from her forehead." a newborn foal” (Aeneid 711-715) in hand. The perception of woman as the Other is clear in the stark contrast between the frenzied women chanting their spells over a blazing fire and Aeneas, who sleeps peacefully on his ship. The subversive, diabolical images of tousled hair, burning effigies, and sinister magical charms combine to create a scene more reminiscent of a pagan ritual than a civilized society. The strangeness and femininity of Dido and the Ethiopian enchantress only reinforce this feeling of otherness. The Aeneid shows that when women like Dido are unable to wield magical powers themselves, they seek out other women who can. This shared feminine affinity for magic emphasizes the otherness of women and highlights their alienation from the world of men. Like Dido, when Hippolyte's Phèdre burns with passion for her stepson, she turns to other women for help. Her old nurse offers to give her a “philter, a soothing charm for love” which, she promises, “will join one in two voluntary loves” (Hippolyte 506-512). Phèdre's nursemaid and Dido's Ethiopian princess are ready to help their fellows bend the will of their unenthusiastic lovers. In literature, these women are depicted as colluding with each other, forging alliances that pit the desires of women against those of men. The mysterious and conspiratorial nature of the transactions that take place behind closed doors reinforces men's fear that women are plotting against them. Magic is decidedly confined to the realm of women. Unfortunately for Phèdre and Dido, their potions and spells do not work as expected. In the end, aUnrequited love pushes both women to suicide. Phèdre hangs herself once she learns of Hippolyta's rejection, and the implication of the Aeneid is that the use of black magic contributes to Dido's descent into madness and suicide. The fact that both women resorted to witchcraft highlights their almost inhuman desperation after being rejected. In particular, the image of Dido shortly before her death is that of a completely disintegrated woman: "with bloodshot and rolling eyes, and quivering cheeks stained with spots" (Aeneid 889-891), she ends up committing suicide at the top of the fire. pyre. If Dido and Phèdre both pay for their love with their lives, their magic is not completely useless: just as Medea manages to take revenge on Jason, Dido finally manages to free herself from her love for Aeneas, and Phèdre punishes Hippolyte for her love. rejection with his incriminating suicide note. Medea and the Aeneid illustrate an important lesson in literature and mythology: that relationships with women prevent men from doing their duty. By poisoning Jason's new wife, Medea prevents him from achieving the ultimate masculine goal of inheriting a throne; similarly, Dido's spells attempt to distract Aeneas from pursuing his destiny as founder of Rome. The ultimate story of a man held back from his goal by women's magic, however, must be Homer's Odyssey. During his long journey home, Odysseus is constantly distracted by witches who trick him into staying with them. Two of the most famous are Calypso, the nymph who fascinates Odysseus for seven years, and Circe, the enchantress who transforms his men into beasts. Isolated on islands without men, the two women live on the margins of society and embody the concept of women as the Other. Indeed, they are almost inhuman in their total alienation from civilization: while they sing strangely and weave "enchanting webs" on their "immortal looms" (The Odyssey 10.244), they resemble nothing more than deadly spiders waiting to trap defenseless men. It is this very otherness that is both fascinating and repugnant. Circe and Calypso have a kind of frightening seduction that captivates Odysseus's men and even makes the god Hermes "bewitched" (Odyssey 5.84). Unlike Medea, Dido and Phaedra, who only resort to magic when they are thwarted in love, the two witches use their magical tricks for the sole purpose of bewitching men. Like revenge magic, their seductive charms are portrayed in a negative light as they delay Odysseus in fulfilling his socially prescribed masculine duty. Instead of reconquering his kingdom and fending off his wife's suitors, Odysseus hangs out with Calypso for seven years in a sensual but vegetative state of helplessness. Likewise, he surrenders himself to Circe's powers for a full year and is only ready for action when his men begin to complain of restlessness. Interestingly, like Aeneas, Odysseus is only able to counter the magic of Circe and Calypso with the help of the messenger god Hermes. As Aeneas sleeps soundly on his ship while Dido chants her magic spells, it is Hermes who warns him to leave; similarly, it is Hermes who shows Odysseus how to defeat Circe's magic (by the extremely phallic method of showing him his sword and then having sex with her), and who tells Calypso that she must relinquish her hold on the king. The theme of men helping men continues when Odysseus fails to break away from Circe after a year and needs encouragement from his shipmates before he can come to his senses and leave. Thus, the Aeneid like the Odyssey opposes the world of women to that of men; in both poems there is little interactionintra-genres that are not limited to sex and magic. The only constructive relationships, and the only ones that further the political goals of Aeneas or Odysseus, are those between men. The women just provide annoying magical traps along the way. For this, they are punished: all the women involved are left behind as they and their magical charms are abandoned without a second thought at the behest of other men and gods. As usual, in the end, women's magic is defeated by the proper patriarchal order. Centuries after writing the Aeneid and the Odyssey, William Shakespeare would return to the same theme of women using magic to deceive men and prevent them from doing their duty in his play Antony and Cleopatra. Unlike Circe and Calypso, who are clearly enchantresses with magical powers, the Queen of Egypt is never explicitly attributed with magical skills. However, the numerous references to her as a "gypsy" and the general theme of occultism which runs through the play in the form of the soothsayer reinforce the impression that magic is at work. Antony's men complain that she has bewitched their general, and his enemy Pompey rejoices that Cleopatra's "witchcraft" (Antony and Cleopatra 2.1.22) has made him lazy and forgetful. Indeed, even Antony, although far from Cleopatra's charms, describes the time he spent in Egypt as "poisoned hours" (Antony 2.2.96) during which he neglected his duty to the state. that Cleopatra has over Antony costs her her share in the triumvirate. During the crucial naval battle in Act III, Cleopatra turns back and, “through the noble ruin of her magic” (Antony 3.10.19), Antony follows her. In doing so, he loses the battle. Attributing his defeat to Cleopatra, he calls her a "witch" in Act IV (Antony 4.2.37). It's the same theme as in The Odyssey: the bewitching enchantress pits passion against duty. As surely as if she had drugged him with one of Circe's magic potions, Cleopatra's charms cause Antony to forget all about Roman politics and abandon himself to sensuality. His virility suffers because of Cleopatra's magic: by procrastinating in bed and then losing the naval battle, Antony is emasculated in front of his men. The play clearly shows that it is only Cleopatra's influence which has this effect on Antony; every time he returns to Rome and in the company of men, he becomes stubborn and “masculinized” again. Just as Dido would have voluntarily prevented Aeneas from founding Rome, Antony and Cleopatra reveal that women are dangerous detours that end up costing men their masculinity and making them forget their duty as citizens. Like the witches in The Odyssey, part of it is Cleopatra's open sexuality. It makes her so captivating. Throughout the play, she is depicted as grumpy and lusty, just as witches are "too willing lovers" (Odyssey 5.172). Antony's sensual existence in Egypt closely parallels that of Odysseus on the islands of Circe and Calypso; for both men, the days are filled with feasting and the nights with sexual pleasure. The fact is that all women who use magic attach great importance to their sex life. Medea's relationship with her husband overrides her maternal role, Dido's sex life with Aeneas causes her political prowess to disintegrate, and Phaedra's illicit lust for her stepson drives her to suicide. Likewise, Calypso seems to exist for the sole purpose of bewitching men into sleeping with her and the only way for Circe to be pacified is in bed, while Cleopatra is constantly referred to as "wanton", "lusty" , “salty” and a “trumpet” to highlight his strong libido..