Jane Goldberg: This Greek comedy tells the story of how women ended war and got men to cooperate (against their will at first, but then coming along with a new plan of fun, frivolity, good eating, and sex).
Men, as usual, were fighting amongst themselves, leaving the women behind to take care of the homes and children. The women weren’t happy. They didn’t like being left alone; they didn’t like not having sex regularly; and they especially didn’t like the fact that their husbands might not come home at all. Because the one thing always true about war is that, no matter who wins, people get killed.
One smart woman, Lysistrata, performed what might have been the world’s first bio-hack (trying new techniques and finding out what works). She self-experimented with her own body, gave up having sex, and decided that she could do without sex for quite a while if it meant accomplishing a higher good.
Lysistrata convinced the women of her country that they, too, could bio-hack; each could decide to give up sex for a while for a greater good. They, too, withheld sexual privileges from their husbands as long as the men insisted on warring (they agreed to the plan over a bottle of wine, which was honored in those times as a sacred rite; a promise is a promise when it comes out of a sacred rite).
The war the men insisted on fighting was the interminable Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta. But it could have been any war by any name at any time in history. It happened to be that war at that time. Lysistrata insisted that if the men wanted to have sex, they had to negotiate a peace amongst themselves. Well, we know (and they knew way back then) that men don’t like to go very long without sex. So, they were coerced into bringing an end to the war. Sex talks while war walks.
Being smart, Lysistrata didn’t entirely trust that sex would be a good enough impetus. She added a precautionary measure. She got the old women of Athens (who would no longer hold sexual power over their men) to seize control of the nearby Acropolis, which held all the money in the state treasury.
Even then, war needed lots of money. Without access to their money, the men didn’t have a prayer’s chance to fund their war. The word of revolt spread quickly through gossip, and then the young, sexy women joined the old hags, retreating behind the barred gates of the Acropolis. One might say the women had their men by the balls.
Next, a chorus of bumbling old men arrived. Their goal was to plow through the gates of the Acropolis. They asked nicely at first, but the women wouldn’t budge. Then the men decided their best plan would be to burn down the gate. However, as luck would have it, before the men could make their preparations for the big burn, a second chorus of old women arrived, bearing pitchers of water. An argument ensued; nasty words were exchanged; threats were leveled. But the old women had a weapon that was quite successful in getting the old men to forget their intent: they received a good dunking with lots of pitchers of water thrown over their heads.
Then, the law stepped in. Today, we would call it the Department of Justice, and Bill Barr would play the role of the magistrate who decided that the women were completely out of control. But, ultimately, he placed the blame on the men, accusing them of not supervising their womenfolk properly.
At this point, the Mr. Barr-look-alike was desperate to get silver from the treasury to continue to support the war effort. Because of the previous fiasco, he no longer trusted anyone else to do the deed, so he sent his own guys, the constables, to break into the Acropolis. But they, too, were quickly overwhelmed by groups of unruly women.
Lysistrata, still the leader of the women, was able to restore some order. She decided to allow the Mr. Barr-stand-in to question her about her ultimate plan. She patiently explained to him, as a mother does to a child, the frustrations that women experience when their men go off to war.
She enlightened him that when men make stupid decisions that affect everyone, it is often because they have not listened to their women. She expressed sorrow for the young, childless women, left to grow old at home during the best years of their lives while men were passing the time on endless military campaigns.
To illustrate her point: with the help of the women, Lysistrata dressed the magistrate up, first as a woman and then as a corpse. She wanted the Barr-guy to understand that the way men were running the world, there was only one degree of separation between being a woman and being dead.
Lysistrata constructed an elaborate analogy to help everyone understand clearly the dilemma they faced and the solution: she showed that Athens should be structured based on the model of how women spin wool: carefully, thoughtfully, mindfully, and with joy in the experience.
But another problem. Some of Lysistrata’s followers had become quite desperate for sex. They began to desert the cause on the silliest of pretexts, such as to air out their bedding (planning for future sex); going to the hairdresser (planning for future sex); one was caught trying to escape to a brothel (planning for future sex).
Sex eventually won the day. Peace talks ensued. The men and women overcame their differences and retired to the Acropolis for celebrations, songs, dancing, and late-night sex (at last).
