Alcestis, Alicia Berenson’s self-portrait based on Euripides’s play of the same name, symbolizes the great pain that can result from betrayal—and the impossibility of putting that pain into words. In the play, an ancient Greek tragedy, Alcestis’s husband Admetus willingly sacrifices her life to protect his own. Alcestis is ultimately able to return from the underworld, but when she revives, her anger and hurt are so great that she never speaks again. In the novel, Alicia sees a production of the tragic play a few days before her husband Gabriel offers up her life to spare himself; in the aftermath of that cruelty, Alicia kills Gabriel and remains completely silent for more than six years following his death. Her only comment is the Alcestis, in which she depicts herself with mouth silently open, brush in hand.
Paradoxically, though, while Alicia uses Alcestis as a model for her own self-imposed muteness, she also uses the play as a method of communication. Jean-Felix Martin, Alicia’s friend and gallerist, argues that “it’s a painting about silence”; read the play the painting is based on, he suggests to Alicia’s therapist Theo, and “then you’ll understand.” Thus even as Alicia turns to Euripides’s Alcestis for a lesson in silence, her own painting is a way of letting people “understand” her, showing them the reasoning—the unbearable betrayal—behind her lack of speech.
Alcestis Quotes in The Silent Patient
I’m getting ahead of myself. I must start at the beginning and let events speak for themselves. I mustn’t color them, twist them, or tell any lies. I’ll proceed step by step, slowly and cautiously. But where to begin? I should introduce myself, but perhaps not quite yet; after all, I am not the hero of this tale. It is Alicia Berenson’s story, so I must begin with her—and the “Alcestis.”
It was just as beautiful and mysterious as I remembered it. Alicia naked in the studio, in front of a blank canvas, painting with a blood red paint brush. I studied Alicia’s expression. Again it defied interpretation. I frowned.
“She’s impossible to read.”
“That’s the point—it is a refusal to comment. It’s a painting about silence.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“Well, at the heart of all art lies a mystery. Alicia’s silence is her secret—her mystery, in the religious sense. That’s why she named it Alcestis. Have you read it? By Euripides.” [Jean-Felix] gave me a curious look. “Read it. Then you’ll understand.