The Tutor: The flies? How do the flies come in?
Zeus: They are a symbol.
Sartre takes the guesswork out of what the flies mean with this simple response to the tutor's query. He refers to the flies as a symbol, meaning that they aren't simply insects; rather, they represent the rapacious, grotesque, and oppressive power of the gods over the people. They arrived after Agamemnon's murder but could very well have been there at any other time, as it seems likely that the people of Argos have never confronted the stark and anguishing reality of their freedom. At the end of the play, the flies can no longer pester Orestes because the young man has taken his freedom for himself, but they still plague Electra, who hasn't been able to do that.
What man are you?
This is a short phrase laced with dramatic irony, for the audience/readers know that Orestes isn't talking to a man but to a god. However, this phrase is more complex than it might initially seem because for all the power Zeus has, he might as well be a man rather than a divine. He doesn't appear to have any real power over the Argives; instead, they torment themselves with their grief and remorse and their belief that the gods would punish them if they did not flagellate themselves. Later Zeus tells Aegistheus that a king and a god are practically the same, which also drives home Sartre's point that neither kings nor gods can control a man who is truly free.
What are you, Electra, but the last survivor of an accursed race? Ay, that whorish dress becomes you.
Aegistheus has no love for Electra because she refuses to be fully subjugated by him, and her behavior at the ritual is the most subversive yet. She wears a white dress and is happy, young, and fresh, the opposite of the rest of the Argives. She dances before the crowd, freely displaying her body and her glee. She thus stands for everything Aegistheus and Zeus try to quell in the Argives, and it is no surprise that both try to shut down her behavior before it spreads among the people. What is ironic about the word "whorish" to describe her dress is that she is wearing white, traditionally a color of purity. This reveals the inversion of traditional morality and the unjust, perverted state of the realm due to Aegistheus and Clytemnestra's crime.
There is another way.
This is a seemingly innocuous quote on its own but it is the very moment that Orestes realizes that he does not have to passively accept his fate. He is not interested in the absurd peace Zeus promises him; he does not want to walk away from his destiny and his ability to truly define himself as a human being. It's unclear exactly what goes through his head but it seems as if the combination of Electra's attitude and lack of faith, his meeting with Clytemnestra, and Zeus's flimsy machinations manifested themselves in this epiphany of freedom. Orestes's physical appearance changes to match what is happening in his mind - his voice deepens, his eyes flash, and Electra no longer recognizes the sweetly noble "Philebus." Instead, Orestes has changed and there is no going back.
Oh, it's only Agamemnon, sitting down on his throne.
The specter of Agamemnon does indeed haunt this text. It is his murder that brings Aegistheus to the throne and to the decision to "[invent] that fable to impress [the] people" (96). Aegistheus knows that he must inspire fear in the Argives, especially as he gained the throne illegitimately, so he fashions the "day of the dead" to keep them wallowing in their regret and guilt over their own dead. The soldiers and all the other townspeople discuss this fable in the sincerest and most serious way because it has come to govern their lives.
I made you in my image. A king is a god on earth, glorious and terrifying as a god.
In a line reminiscent of the Judeo-Christian God saying he made man (Adam) in his own image, Zeus tells Aegistheus that he also made kings in his own image. This an important statement because it gets to the heart of Sartre's Existentialism. Sartre believes that gods and governments are oppressive to the people because they create/enforce systems of power that preclude freedom, individuality, and authenticity. Zeus is referencing both gods and kings here, unequivocally linking them together. Orestes, by contrast, states at the end of the play that he wants to be a king without a kingdom because while he cannot escape the fact that he is the legitimate ruler of Argos, he does not want to take the throne as to allow the people to "try to reshape [their] lives" because "all here is new, all must begin anew."
Once freedom lights its beacon in a man's heart, the gods are powerless against him.
Light is a frequent motif in the text in that it suggests some people are filled with it (i.e., they are enlightened like Orestes) and others, like the townspeople of Argos, are enmeshed in darkness and ignorance. Zeus uses a metaphor of freedom as a light to explain why he cannot do anything to stop Orestes. The gods can only derive power from people who believe in them and who believe that their own actions are supposed to conform to what the gods deem right or wrong. People like the Argives are not free, and spend their lives begging for forgiveness, obsessing over the dead, regretting their past actions and thoughts, and stewing in misery and despair. Orestes, though, no longer believes the gods have power and thus is free from their influence; he makes his own choices and even though he is not happy or at peace he certainly is liberated.
OPPRI can't see you anymore. Those torches give no light.
One of the motifs of the text is seeing, or, alternately, eyes and what they can reveal and what they can see. Earlier in the play, Electra bemoaned the fact that Orestes' eyes had seemed too noble, too inspiring and that they made her foolishly believe that she could cure the people with words. She then lauded him when his eyes flashed with righteous anger after he embraced his freedom and decided to kill Aegistheus and Clytemnestra. Here, she isn't talking about someone else's eyes; rather, immediately after Orestes commits the murders, she becomes frightened that her own eyes are failing her. The dark descends and she can no longer see Orestes. She blames it on the torches, but this is actually a metaphor for what is going on with Electra in a deeper sense. She is "blind" to Orestes' freedom and the justness of his act, she is losing sight of what is possible for her in terms of freedom, and the light of potential self-discovery or self-actualization is fading for her.
Their eyes are so intent on me that they forget to look into themselves.
In yet another reference to eyes in the play, Zeus comments to Aegistheus that the people are essentially blind to themselves because all they can focus on is him. This is exactly Sartre's point in his theory of Existentialism. Man is caught up in religion or philosophy and tries to live his life according to the tenets of a particular belief system, but through doing so negates any capacity for authentic choice and action. In the play Zeus revels in this and derives power from it, but rues the fact that he has no sway over Orestes. Orestes is not at all focused on Zeus; for him the gods have lost their power.
I wish to be a king without a kingdom, without subjects.
With this bold claim Orestes fully embodies the tenets of Existentialism. He knows he has a right to the position of power (the throne of Argos) but decides not to take it because he knows that in the absence of Aegistheus the people will be looking for someone else to tell them what to do. They've been under an oppressive cloud for so long that Orestes would no doubt be another Aegistheus to them. He knows that what is best is for them to confront their freedom and embrace it without the influence of god or man. Orestes is only king of himself, then, and does not want to force any man to pay him homage.
