Reformed Revenge Tragedy in The Sandman
How The Sandman by Neil Gaiman and his collaborators belongs to and builds upon the revenge tragedy tradition — particularly in Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones.
The Tragic Tradition
Regardless of its literary form, tragedy is about change. Aristotle described tragedy in Poetics as an imitation of a “noble and complete action” that through fear becomes purified; it features a “noble” and good person that falls into ruin. Good tragedies, according to Aristotle, feature “events [that] inspir[e] fear or pity,” or catharsis, within the audience (Poetics IX). Navigating through Aristotle’s prescriptions, Neil Gaiman plays with traditional tragic tropes in his graphic novel The Sandman. Morphing myths and legends for his own purposes, Gaiman fashions Morpheus’ story as a classical tragedy, and even participates in the revenge tragedy tradition in the The Kindly Ones volume, his reworking of Aeschylus’ The Oresteia.
The Kindly Ones features two tragedies: Morpheus’ overarching tragedy that ends in his death as well as Lyta Hall’s revenge tragedy. Most revenge tragedies differ from traditional Aristotelian tragedies as they do not focus on moving audiences to catharsis, the purging of the audience’s emotions “through pity and fear” (Poetics VI). Characters involved in these plots are trapped in a cycle of violence due to the consequences of bloodguilt within their family. Therefore, these plots offer no resolution, understanding, or change to the tragic figure. They first feature a character in reaction to a precipitating action where they or their family has been wronged. Soon after, the character demands justice and declares vengeance against the wrong-doer, and in a notable spectacle or plot event with heightened violence, they continue the cycle of violence and tension (Valle).
Though Lyta’s vengeance does lead to Dream’s death, Gaiman does not suggest that acts of vengeance will prosper. By introducing Daniel as the new Dream who pardons Lyta from her crimes, Gaiman argues that reconciliation is more important than revenge. Even though the plot action in The Kindly Ones is driven by Lyta’s desire for revenge and compounded by Dream’s battle against his fate, Gaiman develops a new strain of revenge tragedy, maintaining certain traditions of the genre while developing a new story about forgiveness, redemption, and personal sacrifice. Ending with a message that reconciliation is more important than revenge, The Sandman is a redemptive story about how compassion and forgiveness can circumvent revenge.
The Sandman and The Oresteia
Gaiman ties The Sandman to the tragic tradition by borrowing from Aeschylus’ The Oresteia, and the trope of the fate-bound tragic hero. The earliest revenge tragedies, like The Oresteia, use the protagonist’s fate to drive the plot, similar to Morpheus in Gaiman’s “Kindly Ones.” In The Oresteia, “revenge itself is a ritual, as Skjelten puts it, and “murder must be answered with murder because it is divine law, explicitly enforced by the gods” (16). The plot of “The Eumenides,” the third installment of The Oresteia trilogy, concerns Orestes, and his life events that result from being a part of the cursed bloodline of Atreus, where each generation is fated to repeat the same dark pattern of spilled familial blood, which is followed by revenge.
Prior to “The Eumenides,” his mother Clytemnestra and her new husband Aegisthus murder Orestes’s father upon his return after the Trojan War, causing the boy to flee into exile. Despite trying to escape his fate in exile, Apollo’s oracle appears to Orestes and tells him that he must avenge the murder of his father by killing his mother and Aegisthus; Apollo’s divine command leaves Orestes no choice but to complete the murders, assume the burden of his fate, and pay the consequences (Valle).
Like Orestes, Morpheus is bound to his fate; his story in The Sandman is driven not so much by an angry revenger, but by his fate. Unlike Delirium who is an aberration of the late Delight, or Destruction who shirked his duties, Dream cannot step beyond his designated role as Lord of the Dreaming. As comic artist Leon Miller argues:
“The Tempest” — which sees Morpheus tacitly bare his soul to an unwitting William Shakespeare — hammers home the reality of Morpheus’ life: he was trapped between his responsibilities and his desires (…) When Dream says, “I will never leave my island,” [he identifies that] he is, and always will be, isolated and imprisoned by the burdens of his responsibilities. The conversation between Shakespeare and Dream… provides the ironic contrast that emphasizes what has been important in this series all along. “You live on an island?” Shakespeare asks, then adds, “But that can change. All men can change.” (“The Wake”)
To an extent, Shakespeare is right: Dream has changed the parameters of his role as Lord of the Dreaming. Prior to his imprisonment, Dream prioritized his responsibilities over those he loved and dealt them harsh, retributive punishments if they strayed from the law. But after being vulnerable and powerless at the hands of his human captors, Morpheus became penitent; he realized that his retributive character and action had no power to restore what he lost at the hands of others. After initially taking revenge on those who imprisoned him and destroying his items of power, Morpheus atones for his acts of retribution against those who displeased him; he frees Nada from her imprisonment in hell and liberates Calliope from her captor. However, in his response to Shakespeare, Dream reveals that he is aware his desire to change is against his fate: “I am not a man,” replies Dream, “And I do not change” (Gaiman “The Tempest” 38). Though he realizes that his fate is inescapable, Dream continues to customize his life journey in pursuit of change, and makes the decision to kill Orpheus, his son.
Killing Orpheus is Dream’s most pivotal choice towards positive change, even as it ensures his tragic end at the hands of the Kindly Ones. By killing Orpheus, his son, out of mercy, Dream transgresses what Gaiman calls the “oldest law”: the killing of kindred blood, which the Furies avenge in The Oresteia (Aeschylus lines 210–213). In The Kindly Ones volume, Dream reflects over his actions, admitting “I killed my son…twice. Once, long ago, when I would not help him; and once…more recently…when I did” (“Chapter 11”). By changing his heart and giving his son the death he desires, Dream invokes the ire of The Kindly Ones — the avengers who will enforce his transgression of the law.
Gaiman incorporates revenge tragedy in The Kindly Ones by appropriating the same mythological creatures as Areschylus in “The Eumenides,” the third play in The Oresteia. Orestes and Dream both kill their family members, and due to the consequences of bloodguilt, the Furies chase Orestes to near-death, and Gaiman’s re-imagined Kindly Ones chase Dream to his death. In “The Eumenides,” The Furies, who are “the vengeance of the lost, the hounders of the damned, and the embodiment of retribution,” chase Orestes for the murders that he was forced to commit, driving him nearly into madness (Drucker 95). This cycle continues until Athena learns about Apollo’s culpability in continuing the cycle of violence in the House of Atreus; she brings Orestes into court and after a fair trial, pardons him from sharing his family’s fate and converts the vindictive Furies into the Eumenides, or the Kindly Ones, who help oversee the new judicial process in Athens (Valle).
Though their acts of murder are the apotheoses of both tragic figures, Morpheus’ motivation for killing his son differs from Orestes’ motivation for killing his mother. Whereas Orestes murders his mother at Apollo’s divine command, Dream kills his son Orpheus out of personal conviction, as he finally desires to show his son mercy. In “The Eumenides,” Orestes is a reactionary figure that is subject to the desires of the gods and to the downfall that they accrue; Dream, however, is one of the Endless, a cosmic embodiment of hope, ambition, and imagination. He is the author of his own downfall and plans for his domain’s future through the character of Daniel. As psychiatrist and novelist Tade Thompson observes:
We know from Death’s speech in TKO Chapter 13 that Morpheus orchestrates his own demise:
Death: “The only reason you’ve got yourself into this mess is because this is where you wanted to be.”
Morpheus: “I have made all the preparations necessary.”
Death: “Hmph. You’ve been making them for ages. You just didn’t let yourself know that was what you were doing.”
Morpheus had options. He could have refused to kill Orpheus in the first place, since he did not want to and knew this would make him powerless against the Kindly Ones. He could have killed Lyta Hall. He could have done a lot more to protect Daniel Hall, in order to avoid activating Lyta as a vengeance agent in the first place. He could have refused to fulfil his promise to Nuala. He could have gone with Delirium to her realm, or stayed in Faerie. (“The Death of Sandman”)
Faced with having to change or die, Dream makes his choice: he joins hands with his sister Death, and releases his tragic burden — the weight of his responsibility no longer conflicts with his desire for change. As Dream passes on his position to Daniel, Lyta Hall’s son, Gaiman invites readers to experience solace: first, in knowing that Morpheus’ death released him from his internal conflict, and second: in knowing that Dream’s merciful legacy may continue with Daniel.
Lyta Hall’s Senecan Revenge Tragedy
Gaiman also appropriates tragic conventions from later Senecan revenge plays to heighten the tragedy of Morpheus’ death. Seneca’s fabula cothurnata (Latin retellings of the same Greek tragedies), feature “a morally ambiguous revenger,” like Gaiman’s Lyta Hall, whose “desire and pursuit of revenge is what causes the tragedy to occur,” de-emphasizing the role of fate (Skjelten 17). While Dream’s death is a classical tragedy, Lyta’s quest for vengeance in “The Kindly Ones” is a Senecan revenge tragedy. In a Senecan tragic structure, explains Skjelten, “the driving force is the revenger, a person with a vendetta” (Skjelten 8). Lyta’s personal revenge plot follows this same pattern. When her son Daniel is kidnapped by Puck and Loki, Lyta assumes that he is dead and that Dream was solely responsible; she still blames Dream for “killing” her husband Hector, and believes he is a “monster” (Gaiman “Playing House” 22). Lyta’s loss drives her to pursue revenge against Dream, an action that leads to her own madness, Dream’s death, and the permanent loss of her son.
Even though she is not legally justified to claim revenge (as Daniel lawfully belongs to the Lord of Dreams), Lyta does not relent. She seeks out the three deadly women who appear intermittently in The Sandman series — who are Gaiman’s triune manifestations of the Fates, the Furies, and the Kindly Ones — and pressures them to take action against Morpheus. Earlier in the series, the three Fates have warned that “you wouldn’t want to meet us as the Kindly Ones. We can only caution you…We can’t protect you” (Gaiman, “The Dolls House,” 17). Due to her vindictive rage, Lyta cannot heed this warning. Consumed by their shared hate for Dream, Lyta and the Kindly Ones use Orpheus’ murder as reason to destroy Dream, even though Orpheus never asked for the Kindly Ones to avenge his death.
However, it is not Dream that is driven to madness at the hands of the Furies, but Lyta, the revenger. “Read as a metaphor,” agrees Skjelten, “her desire for revenge is a kind of madness that prevents her from acting rationally once she learns the truth” (73). As Lyta becomes more like the Furies in action and in appearance, she fully assumes the tragic role as the Senecan “morally ambiguous revenger,” who ultimately fails to get the revenge she desires. Even after her actions lead to Morpheus’ death, Lyta is dissatisfied; she has not regained her husband, son, or a regular mental state through her actions. In his ninety-page summative work on Revenge Tragedy in The Sandman, Skjelten comes to a similar conclusion:
[Lyta’s] actions have led to Daniel transforming into the new Dream, and the new Dream makes it clear to her that he is not Daniel any more. She is sent away with his blessing, and the promise of no further reprisals, but is still left without her son as a direct result of her own actions — in seeking revenge for her son’s imagined death, she causes him to cease to exist. Having passed through the madness of revenge and obsession, she comes out on the other side alive, unlike many other revengers, but is still left alone and grieving.” (74)
Lyta’s situation here is reminiscent of what Dream says to Titania in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” concerning man’s capacity to want after something: “Humans don’t… understand the price…They only see the prize, their heart’s desire, their dream… But the price of getting what you want, is getting what you once wanted” (Gaiman, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” 20). Explaining humans’ perpetual need to want after something, even after they attain what they “once wanted,” Dream contextualizes the tragedy of Lyta’s inherent desire for revenge.
While he relies upon the tropes of classical and revenge tragedy to tell the story of Morpheus’ death, Gaiman does not leave his audience without hope. Through Daniel, Gaiman develops The Sandman’s concluding message: forgiveness and reconciliation in the face of bloodshed is more important than retribution and revenge. Before he dies, Morpheus prepares Daniel to become the new Lord of Dreams. Daniel fulfills the earlier prophesy that Lachesis reads during the attack on the Dreaming: “You can be me when I’m gone” (Gaiman The Kindly Ones “Chapter 10”). Although he was once Daniel, the new Dream can remember himself as Morpheus: “I told myself many things before I died,” he states (Gaiman The Wake “Chapter 1”). Though he shares a title with the Lord of Dreams, Daniel is visibly changed. While Morpheus dresses in black, Daniel dresses in white. This color change symbolizes Daniel’s separation from Dream’s previous vindictive role.
As Daniel assumes Morpheus’ responsibilities as the Lord of Dreams, he embodies and practices the same mercy that Morpheus gave others before his death; he is the transformed character that Morpheus sought to become. As Morpheus nears his end, he chooses to share what he has learned with his “friend,” Hob Gadling. In the third issue of The Kindly Ones, Morpheus advises Hob against pursing the person who killed his wife in a hit-and-run, saying, “I do not recommend revenge. It tends to have repercussions” (Gaiman The Kindly Ones “Chapter 3” 16). Fulfilling this legacy, Daniel offers parallel advice to Lyta when he speaks with her about her role in Dream’s death: “You sought vengeance, Lyta. But that is a road that has no ending.” (Gaiman The Wake “Chapter 3” 24). However, Daniel not only echoes Dream’s message, but puts it into action: he actively undoes Lyta’s revenge cycle by forgiving her. “Go in peace,” he tells Lyta, after marking her forehead like Cain’s so that no one may harm her (Gaiman The Wake “Chapter 3” 24). As he champions actions of grace and forgiveness, Daniel turns the other cheek to Lyta’s vengeance. He promotes forgiveness and reconciliation as weapons against revenge.
This ten volume series uses and transcends classical tragic structure in order to examine the effects of revenge. Morpheus’ story is a tragedy, during which Morpheus prepares Daniel to be the next Dream, attempts to repair the effects of his retributive actions, and bids his kingdom farewell before he embraces his fate. Lyta’s story is also a tragedy; her demise serves as a sinister warning to those who seek revenge, as it is an obsession that leads her to experience madness. At the same time, however, Gaiman tells a redemptive story — one where the effects of revenge bring about a positive change through Dream’s heir: Daniel. Through Daniel, Gaiman not only retells but transcends the message of The Oresteia, as his actions represent a new understanding of justice, one that is founded on reconciliation, not retribution. Gaiman develops a new strain of tragedy in The Sandman, using the Aristotelian and Senecan tradition to tell a different kind of story: one about the triumph of forgiveness.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been too fond of beginnings, myself. Messy little things. Give me a good ending anytime. You know where you are with an ending.” –The Sandman, “Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones”
Works Cited
Aeschylus. The Oresteia. “The Eumenides.” The Internet Classics Archive, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, classics.mit.edu/Aeschylus/eumendides.html.
Aristotle. Poetics. The Internet Classics Archive, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, http://classics.mit.edu/Aristotle/poetics.1.1.html.
Drucker, Aaron, “Empowering Voice, Refiguring Retribution.” Feminism in the Worlds of Neil Gaiman: Essays on the Comics, Poetry and Prose. United Kingdom, McFarland, Incorporated, Publishers, 2012.
Gaiman, Neil, et al. The Sandman. Dream Country. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Vol. 3, DC Comics/Vertigo, 2018.
Gaiman, Neil, et al. The Sandman. The Doll’s House. “Playing House.” Vol. 2, DC Comics/Vertigo, 2018.
Gaiman, Neil, et al. The Sandman. The Kindly Ones. Vol. 9, DC Comics/Vertigo, 2018.
Gaiman, Neil, et al. The Sandman. The Wake. Vol. 10, DC Comics/Vertigo, 2018.
Miller, Leon. “25 Years Ago, The Sandman: The Wake Introduced Emotional Closure to Superhero Comics.” The Pop Culture Studio, 1 Apr. 2021, thepopculturestudio.com/2021/03/25/25-years-ago-the-sandman-the-wake-introduced-emotional-closure-to-superhero-comics.
Thompson, Tade. “The Death of Sandman: A Psychiatric Reading.” Tor.com, 29 Nov. 2018, www.tor.com/2017/02/09/the-death-of-sandman-a-psychiatric-reading/.
Skjelten, Erlend. “The Use and Development of Revenge Tragedy in the Comics V for Vendetta and The Sandman.” University of Bergen, Norway, Department of Foreign Languages University of Bergen, 2011, core.ac.uk/download/pdf/30897517.pdf.
Valle, Dr. Philip. “Revenge Tragedy and The Oresteia.” TH 227: Theatre History I, Oct. 2018, San Luis Obispo, California Polytechnic State University. Class lecture.
