05/26/2026
“Heav’n has no rage, like love to hatred turn’d, / Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn’d” - William Congreve, “The Mouring Bride”
I’ve been thinking about feminine rage a lot recently, and this is the result. The Furies.
“Furies” (or Erinyes in Ancient Greek) are chthonic goddesses, meaning they harken from the underworld. In some stories they came into being when Chronus overthrew Ouranos and his blood touched the sea.
Their name means “avengers” with Megaera (jealous rage), Tisiphone (vengeful destruction), and Alecto (unceasing anger) seen as the helmsmen of Ananke, who is otherwise known as the personification of Necessity.
Their role? To enact vengeance against mortals for crimes specifically against families. Their mode of punishment of their victims? Incessant pursuit of the culprits and unending wrath that brings on madness, disease, and famine.
Yes, you can thank the Ancient Greeks for this keen insight to the human psyche.
They are often depicted wearing black and brandishing torches, sometimes with wings, and commonly with snakes in their hair or about their persons. My favorite touch is the bloody tears that drip from their eyes.
I had the immense privilege of two dear friends who consented to be my references alongside me for the faces of these divine furies. While many classical pieces depict openly enraged women with teeth gnashing and mouths roaring and eyes bulging, it felt right to me to tap into that more subtle feminine rage we know so well. That moment of quiet, that steely expression, that thunderous warning can be far more dangerous than the demonstrative explosion.
Rage is given to us for a reason. Its uses are innumerable. Let us use our rage for good. And, when considering the world around you, consider that we just might not be enraged enough.
