Salvation and female heroics in the parodos of Aristophanes' Lysistrata

The separate entrances of the male and female semi-choruses in Aristophanes' Lysistrata are marked by an unusual bit of stagecraft whose importance to a general theme of the play the salvation of Athens–has never been fully appreciated. The old men enter the stage at v. 254 each carrying a pair of olive-wood logs, a vine torch and a small pot of live embers. Having heard that Lysistrata and her comrades have taken control of the Acropolis, they come intent on burning down the gates of the citadel and removing the women, whom they liken to the Spartan general Cleomenes who occupied the citadel in 510. The men pile their logs before the closed gate, ignite their torches in the hot coals and then try to set fire to the logs (vv. 307-11). But after a few minutes of hilarious bumbling their plans are foiled for good by the sudden appearance of a semi-chorus of old women who rush in with water-jars on their shoulders or in their hands; these women threaten the men and then finally–with an invocation of the river-god Achelous douse them and their fire (vv. 381-82), thus effectively ending the threat of incineration. In the past, this entire choral routine has been explained in one of two ways: either it is a standard bit of slapstick humour with no importance whatsoever to the development of the comic plot, or it is part of an elaborate sexual pun of Freudian proportions in which the closed entranceway to the Acropolis assaulted by men symbolically prefigures the battle of the sexes that is about to ensue. Of course given the wonderful richness and polyvalence of Aristophanic comedy, it is extremely difficult to deny either of these interpretations. I shall argue here, however, that the staging of the parodos also reflects a very popular type of Greek salvation myth, known to the Athenians from the tragic stage, from the visual arts and from rituals associated with local mystery cults. In light of these parallels drawn from the theatrical and religious life of the city, I shall argue that when the audience saw the women rush onto the stage with their hydriai, they would have undoubtedly seen them in a very positive light as saviours of the city–precisely the role they claim for themselves later in the play.