The Bacchae and the Repressed Thing
Euripides’ The Bacchae is a play about Dionysus, god of wine, ecstasy, and madness. Beneath the myth lies a truth: deny the irrational side of human nature, and it will return.
Dionysus does not ask to rule; he demands recognition. When Pentheus refuses and tries to chain him, Dionysus does not vanish. He erupts, bringing down king and kingdom alike.
At a deeper level, it is a warning: repress desire, grief, anger, joy — they do not die. They wait in silence, gathering force, until they return with ruin.
I have seen this outside the stage. My ex-wife, raised where harmony was prized above all, kept her face cool and smiling even when she was not at peace. Anger and sorrow were buried behind the mask.
But the buried do not stay buried. They grew underground, until they broke through with a force more frightening than if they had been allowed small, honest expression from the start.
The Greeks knew this. Their tragedies are not only about gods and kings but about human psychology writ large. Dionysus is not only a deity; he is the part of us that refuses control. To deny him is to deny life itself. Pentheus tries, and his repression becomes his destruction.
The lesson is clear. Order has its place, but so does chaos. Reason must guide, but feeling must breathe. Deny one, and the other grows monstrous.
As Euripides shows: what you repress is what destroys you.