There is no shortage of war stories which recount the heroism and glory of the battlefield, but war stories can also tell us of valour of a different kind. While monuments of stone and bronze tell us of the ultimate sacrifice of soldiers, there are few statues commemorating their parallel pains: that of family members, often women, who suffered distance and separation, unknowing at home. 

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   Chrysothemis, daughter to the warrior king Agamemnon and his vengeful spouse Clytemnestra, sister to Iphigenia, Orestes and Electra is forgotten like those left longing and wondering. She is known, if known at all, as the invisible sister. The fragments of her story betray her unwillingness to fight alongside the others. Because she does not participate in a retaliative, violent act, she is cast as passive and forgettable. I would argue that the choice not to fight, while not fitting into our visceral war fantasies or solemn remembrance, is no less brave. 

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    For those that listen, soldiers have long returned telling a different war story. When the bloody glory of war is washed away, war wounds, guilts, and memories remain unhealed. Conflict continues long after the battle is over. Wars waged in other countries are dragged home and nightmare battles are fought between family members, often to tragic ends. In the past decades, these war stories have seen more light, but what feels new is actually a story as ancient as war itself.  It is our ability to listen to those who didn’t have a voice that makes an old story contemporary…and perhaps gives those telling their story a chance to heal.