PERSEUS AND THE GORGON

I got about halfway through writing up this particular Greek myth when I came to an important realization: This story is friggin’ nuts! I mean, as Greek myths go, it’s actually pretty tame, but it’s still pretty ridiculous. I hope to Zeus these things made more sense in Ancient Greek and we just think they’re insane cuz something was lost in translation. In any case, English is what we’re dealing with here, so I had to go over the story again and add jokes. I like the story, in spite of its ludicrous twists and turns, so I didn’t just want to throw it out, but I thought if I played it for laughs a bit more, it might work better.

There are, of course, several different versions of the myth, and, as per usual, mine takes elements from a handful of tellings. So you might not see your favorite part of the story here.

Once upon a really quite very long time ago, there was a king called Acrissius who, like many narrow-minded kings, very much wanted to have a son. Instead, he got a daughter, whom he named Danae…wait, whom? Is that right? Who he named…he named…no, whom. Whom is right. What? Oh, sorry. As I say, King Acrissius’ only child was his daughter Danae. Being of a naturally curious disposition, the king went to see the Oracle at Delphi (Ah-ah-AH! choir of small children singing) and asked it whether he would ever have a son. The Oracle said that not only would Acrissius not have a son, but his daughter would, and that son would one day, and this is a direct quote: “defeat the king and wear the crown.”

King Acrissius was horrified at the thought of being overthrown by his own hypothetical grandson. Desperate to avoid this fate, he locked Danae in a tower and refused to ever let her out, reasoning that if she never had a child, he had no reason to fear her offspring. But Zeus, the king of the gods of Greece, was not a particular fan of Acrissius, and he was especially mad at him for defying the Oracle at Delphi (Ah-ah-AH! slightly larger choir of small children singing this time), and so he did one of those things that gods get to do: He performed a miracle. He sent Danae a son, and she named him Perseus since he was “from Zeus.” For many years, Danae and Perseus lived secretly in the tower until the child’s laughter was heard by his wicked grandfather. When King Acrissius found out that Danae had, against all logic and the very laws of nature, borne a son, he was acrimonious…no, he was mad. I don’t know why I said that other word, excuse me.

Whatever word you like, Acrissius decided to get rid of the pair of them once and for all. Mother and child were sealed in a wooden box and the box was thrown into the sea. But, once again, Acrissius had not reckoned with the gods, and Zeus’s brother, Poseidon, carried the box across the ocean to a new land called Seriphos. The box washed up on shore where it was found and opened by a kindly man named Dictys. When he heard of Danae and Perseus’ plight, he took pity on them and asked them to come and live with him. So that is how Perseus grew to be a man with the love of his mother and the guiding hand of Dictys.


Now, it just so happened. that Dictys had a brother, named Polydectes (I know, the names in this one are kind of tricky). It also happened that Polydectes was the king of Seriphos. And the law of the land entiteld him to take any woman he wanted for his bride. As it further happened, he had his eye on Perseus’ mother, Danae. Perseus, however, knew the kind of man Polydectes was and knew that he would not be a good husband to his mother.

“You may be king,” said Perseus, defiantly, “but I will never call you father.”

“You will, boy,” said Polydectes. “I will have your mother for my bride or both of you will be put to death.”

The fear of death has, in the past, been referred to as “a helpful motivator.” Such was the case with Danae. Not for her own sake so much, but for her son. She agreed to marry Polydectes and asked her son to get on board with the whole thing. She asked him to go to his future stepfather and ask his forgiveness and offer his blessing. Eventually, Perseus agreed and did so the next morning. As a gesture of apology for his harsh words, Perseus asked Polydectes what gift he should bring to the wedding. “Anything under the sky is yours to request,” said Perseus, never dreaming that he’d soon live to regret it.

“Anything?” said the sinister king. “Very well: Bring me…the head of the Gorgon, Medusa!”

(GASP! Dramatic sting!!)

For those of you who aren’t from around here, the Gorgons were three horrible monsters. Of these, two were immortal. The one who was mortal was Medusa. Some said she was once a beautiful human woman who, years ago, had offended the goddess Athena who had turned her into a monster as punishment. And a monster she was! Her hair was actually live snakes, and one look in her eyes would turn a man to stone! But Perseus had (stupidly) promised to bring Polydectes any gift he asked for, so he set forth the very next day to seek out the Gorgons.

The night before his adventure was to begin, the gods appeared to him. They wanted to help him in his quest. Athena gave him a highly polished shield, the inside of which reflected like a mirror. Hermes lent Perseus his winged sandals to hasten his journey. Even Zeus himself gave him an adamani…admananium…adam…a magic sword with which to slice off Medusa’s head. Perseus was very grateful to the gods for their gifts and their advice:

“When you depart at tomorrow’s sun,” Athena said, “run to the other side of the world, where the sun has just set. There you will find the Graeae. They are cousins of the Gorgons and will help you to find your enemy.”

“Well, can’t you guys just tell me where they are?”

“No. No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Er…do not question the ways of the gods! Just go find the Gray Ladies, okay?”

So, the next morning as the first rays of the sun shone upon him, Perseus ran with Hermes’ winged sandals to the other side of the world. Here night had just begun to fall. And on the cold, dark rocks at the edge of the sea he found the Graeae. These three old hags had only one eye that they shared between them. One would remove it and pass it to the next and they would all get a turn…yes, I agree, it’s disgusting, but it’s just a story. Anyway, as one passed it to the next, Perseus took it and held it out of their reach.

“Where is our eye?” cried the Graeae. “Who has our eye?”

“I,” said Perseus.

“Yes. Eye. Where is our eye?”

“No, I mean I as in me.”

“You? What about you?”

“No, I—never mind. I have your stupid eye and I won’t return it until you tell me how to find your cousins, the Gorgons.”

The Graeae agreed and told Perseus where he would find the Gorgons. Perseus returned their eye (gratefully, cuz it was pretty gross) and followed their directions until he came to the outskirts of the nation of Ethiopia (not the one you’re thinking of, this is a different one). It was a dark, gray place where it looked like the sun had never shone. Here is where the Gorgons lived and here is where Perseus found Medusa.

“Who seeks Medusa?” she asked, her back to her foe.

“I am Perseus. Son of Zeus and the mortal Danae. The man I will one day call ‘father’ has demanded your head and I will not leave this place without it.”

See? That’s how heroes talk in stories like this. Nobody talks like that anymore. How cool is that?

Anyway: “Then you will never leave this place!” hissed Medusa (or it might have been her hair) and she rounded on her enemy. “Look into my eyes!”

“No!” replied Perseus and he at once spun around and held up his shield. With his back to Medusa, he saw her reflection in his shield and by looking, memorizing the terrain then shutting his eyes and quickly turning around he was able to fight Medusa without ever looking directly at her. The battle raged on for many hours, and it was almost daybreak when the final blow was struck. With a mighty swipe of Zeus’ sword, Perseus sliced through Medusa’s neck and her lifeless head fell to the ground…again, pretty gross, huh?

Exhausted from his battle, Perseus used the last of his strength to put the severed head in his knapsack (very carefully, because her eyes were still open) and then he did what pretty much any demigod would do in the same situation: He collapsed to the ground and lost consciousness.

He awoke several hours later in a soft bed with maids attending him. “Where am I?” he demanded of them.

“You are in the palace of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. The monarchs of Ethiopia.”

“How did I get here?” he asked. They explained how the sounds of the battle with Medusa had attracted the attention of some early-morning fishermen. They had seen Perseus behead Medusa and collapse on the rocks. They knew the other two Gorgons (the ones that didn’t die, remember) would soon discover him and tear him limb from limb for killing their sister, so they carried him into the city where news quickly spread of his defeat of the monster. The king and queen ordered him to be brought to their palace where, when he awoke, which was now, he would be their honored guest at a feast.

Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever beheaded a terrible monster after fighting for hours on end and then slept for more hours on more end (I don’t think that’s right, but let’s move on), but if you have you would know what Perseus knew, that what you’d really be in the mood for was a feast. He sat at the royal table between the king and queen and was called on to recount the story of his adventure which, when it was over, was met with cheers and applause the likes of which Perseus had never heard before. It was the greatest night of his life…until the end of the meal.

“Perseus,” said the King, hesitantly, “I should tell you, this feast is not just to celebrate your victory over Medusa.”

“It isn’t?”

“No,” said the Queen. “It is also to entice you to help us.”

“You see,” continued the King, “this very night, a terrible sea serpent is going to kill our daughter, Andromeda.”

“What?” said Perseus, understandably perplexed. “Why? How? Huh?”

The King explained that, some days ago, the Queen had said, only in jest, you understand, that she was more beautiful than the water nymphs of Poseidon. Poseidon (who only about ten years ago had saved Perseus and his mother, for those having a hard time keeping track) apparently took her boasts as blasphemy and said that he would send the serpent, Cetus, to destroy Ethiopia. When the King and Queen begged for mercy, Poseidon said “very well, I won’t destroy the entire city…only one…your daughter. Tie her to a stone on the edge of the city at sunset in three days’ time and I will spare the rest of your lives.”

“So you see,” the King implored, “what we really need right now is somebody who can kill a monster.”

“Please, Perseus,” begged the Queen. “You may be our only hope of saving our city and our child.”

Perseus agreed for some reason, and at sundown that very night, the princess Andromeda was brought forth. She was tied to a large stone at the very edge of the city and Perseus crouched down behind the stone, waiting for Cetus to attack. Sure enough, the tide rolled in and a huge, terrifying serpent slithered out of the sea. It was just about to attack Andromeda when…SLASH! Perseus leaped out from behind the stone and sliced off the serpent’s head. Poseidon was, of course, furious, but he had made a promise: If Andromeda was tied to the stone at sundown, he would not destroy the city. Andromeda was tied down, so, even though she wasn’t killed, he had to spare Ethiopia. In the end, however, he got his revenge on Cassiopeia: When she died, he used his power to hang her in the sky, upside down, for all eternity, as a mighty constellation of stars…but that comes later.

For now, Ethiopia was saved and the King and Queen were even more grateful to Perseus than they had been before and they asked if there was anything he wanted as a reward. And, as a matter of fact there was. To make a long story slightly less long, Perseus and Andromeda were married soon thereafter.

But, now was not the time for a honeymoon. Perseus had somewhere to be. He bid his new bride put her arms around him very, very tight. She did this and then, using Hermes’ winged sandals, he ran all the way back home to Seriphos, just in time for the wedding ceremony to begin. He entered the palace bearing the gifts from the gods, the knapsack over his shoulder and his new wife, Andromeda.

“Mom,” he said, “this is my wife, Andromeda. Andy, this is my mother.”

Danae was less than thrilled at finding out like this, but she embraced Andromeda anyway.

“Yes, yes, she seems lovely,” said Polydectes. “But I didn’t send you after a girl. Did you bring what I requested?”

“Yes, Father,” he said, possibly inventing sarcasm at that moment. “It’s right…here!” And with the kind of lightning fast reflexes that only a demigod could possess and which it would be pointless attempting if you’re not one, Perseus whipped the knapsack off his back reached in and pulled out Medusa’s head, pointing it straight at Polydectes. And the moment Polydectes eyes made contact with Medusa’s deathly gaze, he turned at once into solid stone.

So the Oracle at Delphi (The choir of small children thought they were done and left for the day) was right. Perseus grew up to defeat a king and wear his crown…just not the king Acrissius had expected. In case you’re interested, Acrissius lived a long and lonely life with no children and his very last thought before his death was sorrow at what he had done to his daughter and grandson. But why waste time worrying about that old jerk? Especially when Perseus was a hero, a husband and a king all at the same time. He had many more adventures and even founded his own kingdom, Mycenae, where he and his extended family lived very happily ever after…if you can believe that!

THE END

If You Liked My Story, You Might Enjoy:

• “Jim Henson’s The Storyteller: Greek Myths” (1990; TV) Their version of Perseus’ story includes a cameo by Atlas who, contrary to popular belief, actually held up the sky, not the Earth. In this story, Perseus takes pity on the poor man and mercifully turns him to stone with Medusa’s head so he won’t feel the weight of the sky anymore.
• Percy Jackson and the Olympians (books/movie) The title character of these modern day myths is actually named after Perseus and the first story, the Lightning Thief, features several references to his legend. Medusa (played by Uma Thurman in the movie) even makes an appearance.
• Clash of the Titans (1981/2010) This is an epic story of Greek mythology based on the loose framework of Perseus' story. The original is famous for the excellent stop-motion animation of the late, great Ray Harryhausen and stars Laurence Olivier, Maggie Smith, Ursula Andress, Burgess Meredith and Harry Hamlin as Perseus. The big budget remake features Sam Worthington as Perseus along with Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes, and Jason Flemyng (who you’d recognize if you saw him)

NEXT WEEK: "The Return of Shelly Hobbes: Master Detective...Again!"

Greek Myths

For a while now, I have wanted to tell you some of the stories from Greek mythology. Anyone who knows anything about Greek mythology, however, will have no trouble understanding why it's taken me this long. The original Greek myths were not fairy tales to entertain and amuse the masses or to lull children to sleep: They were warnings! They were horror stories! They were psycho-dramas designed to explain the inexplicable, predict the unimaginable and prepare for the unthinkable. The Greeks did not love and admire their gods; they feared them. And the myths are, for the most part, pretty horrific reads. People criticized Disney for what they did to the Greek myths in their movie, Hercules, but can you blame them?!?

I have found a few of the stories that are not as horrifying and present them to you today. I should note, that I intend, at some future date, to add the legend of Perseus to this collection, but for now, here are some short (mostly) sweet little stories. And I'd like to say "you're welcome" in advance to those of you who will soon be saying "thank you for not making an 'it's all Greek to me' joke."...oh, right. Never mind!

I. THE STORY OF PERSEPHONE

A long time ago, reliable sources inform me that the world was paradise. The sun shone constantly, the flowers were always in bloom, the world was green and beautiful all year round. And why? Because the world was in love. A beautiful girl, the daughter of the goddess Demeter, named Persephone, who was the most delicate and pure creature to ever live. Everyone and everything loved Persephone and wanted to be around her always…even Hades, the dark, cruel lord of the underworld. The God of Death himself had fallen in love with Persephone, so he captured her and took her down to his kingdom below. Of course, the world that loved her so, feeling she was gone for good, mourned the loss of their great love. The leaves fell off the trees, the flowers wilted, the air grew cold and the earth barren. Meanwhile, in the realm of Hades, his new bride was unhappy, and Hades had no idea why. She explained that she missed the world above and wanted to return, but Hades wanted to keep Persephone all to himself. In the end, they made a deal. Persephone was permitted to return to the world but only for half the year. The other half, she must spend with Hades in the underworld. She agreed and when she returned to the surface, the world blossomed again. And that is why half the year is bright, sunny and green and the other half is cold, dark and barren, when the world mourns for its lost goddess of spring.

II. KING MIDAS

This is the story of King Midas, and it’s all about…well, Midas…who’s a king...Duh. King Midas was a great, powerful, wealthy king who loved one thing above all else. Was it peace? Happiness? The prosperity and well-being of his subjects? Blueberry pie? No, of course not. It was gold! He loved gold, he was obssessed with gold, he had, let's face it, a very unhealthy attachment to gold. He knew he’d never get enough gold no matter how hard he tried. One day, while walking his garden and admiring the goldenrods, he saw what appeared to be the back end of a goat, trapped in a bush. Kindly, he pulled the creature out of the bush, only to find that, while the back end was that of a goat, the front end was a little man with goat horns and a little beard which centuries later would be called a “goatee,” and not long after that would be called “a stupid looking little beard.”

“Thank you for helping me, King Midas,” said the creature.

“What are you?” asked the king.

“I am a satyr. And because you have been kind to me, I shall do something for you. What do you desire more than anything else in the w—”

“Gold!”

“You certainly answered fast. But, no matter. You shall have your gold. But be careful, your majesty: Too much of anything is not good for you.” But the king insisted that he wanted gold, so the satyr cast a magic spell on the king. “There,” he said. “Now that should be enough gold even for you.” And right before the king’s eys, the satyr vanished.

At first, King Midas was confused. He didn’t see any gold. What had the satyr meant? He turned around to go back inside when he stumbled and, to stop himself falling, grabbed the branch of a tree. When he was again upright, he looked at the tree and saw, to his amazement, that it was now made of solid gold! As were all the leaves and fruit in the tree. He plucked an apple and held it in his hand. Definitely gold. That’s when it hit him: The golden touch! Now he knew that anything he touched would turn to gold! He started touching everything in the garden, until all his flowers and tree were made of the purest, most perfect gold the world has ever seen. He cried out his thanks to the satyr and went inside his castle to touch things in there.

Furniture, bannisters, tapestries, ashtrays, books, clothing, dishes, anything he could get his hands on, King Midas turned to gold! Soon he was the richest king on earth, living in a golden palace. It was while he was thinking of what he could turn to gold next that the dinner gong rang. Making a note to turn the gong into gold after dinner, King Midas went to the dining hall, where his servants nervously served him a sumptuous meal. The king pulled in his chair, and it turned to gold. He picked up a napkin and it turned to gold. He picked up his fork and knife and they turned to gold. He picked up a chicken drumstick…and it turned to gold. Unfortunately, Midas didn't notice this until he had already taken a bite, or tried to. "OW!" he cried. He tried a wing, but it too turned to solid gold before he could get it to his mouth. He jabbed a piece of steak with his fork and as soon as he bit into it, as soon as his teeth touched it, it turned to gold. Now, horrorstruck, Midas began to grab wildly at all the food trying to find something he could eat. But all he did was turn the entire feast into gold!

King Midas ran back out to the now golden garden and cried out for the satyr, who appeared at his side. “Good evening, King Midas,” said the satyr. “How’s the golden touch working out for you?”

“Terrible!” moaned the king. “I am richer now than the gods, but what good is that if I starve to death? Please, take away the golden touch! I beg you! Set me free of this golden curse!”

“Well, I think you’ve learned your lesson,” said the satyr, and he cast another spell on the king before disappearing forever.

King Midas looked around and saw that everything he had turned to gold was now back to the way it was. The trees, the flowers, the fruit. He even plucked an apple from the tree. It did not turn to gold. He took a big bite out of it…and it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. And so, humbled, and having learned a valuable lesson about greed, King Midas ran back into his palace where he knew there was still a non-golden feast waiting for him.

III. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

Once upon a time, there was a great king named Orpheus. More than a king, he was a great musician. His singing and lute playing were the stuff of legend (case in point, this story you’re reading). He was the greatest singer, musician, and king the world had ever known. One day, while wandering through the woods of his domain, singing and playing, his music awoke a wood nymph, a magical creature of the forest, named Eurydice. She heard Orpheus’ singing and fell in love with him. They were married that very day. And so began a beautiful age of love and music for Orpheus, Eurydice and their people…until Eurydice was killed by a wild beast in the forest. Orpheus was distraught and thought he’d never sing another note as long as he lived. But, no! He wouldn’t give up! He knew where Eurydice was and, with great courage, he descended into the underworld to get back the soul of his beloved.

Of course, Hades refused to give her back no matter how much Orpheus begged and pleaded. So then, Orpheus turned his attention to Hades’ bride, Persephone, and appealed to her mercy and compassion. He even sang a song of his great love which moved Persephone to tears until she begged her husband to set Eurydice free. Hades agreed but, as usual, the God of Death plays by his own rules. Eurydice was brought forth and Orpheus was told that he could walk her out of the underworld this very day…but while he walked, she had to stay one step behind him at all times and would not say a word. Furthermore, if Orpheus looked back at her once, she would instantly return to the Pit and would belong to Hades forevermore. Orpheus agreed and turned to walk back to the world of the living. On the way, he couldn’t hear her footfalls and thought perhaps she wasn’t there. But he didn’t look back, for fear of losing her forever. He talked the whole way, desperately hoping for a sign. Finally, he was in sight of his goal. There was the gate that led to the surface…but, alas, he could resist no longer and looked over his shoulder. Eurydicie was gone, flown back to Hades, where she would remain forevermore. Orpheus returned to his kingdom and threw his lute on the fire. He never sang again.

IV. PANDORA'S BOX

Let’s be clear on something: Zeus is a jerk. An enormous jerk. Perhaps the biggest jerk of all time. He destroys things he doesn't like, seduces women in the most disturbing ways imaginable and when he has a gripe against somebody, he doesn't just punish them, he takes it out on their whole family! Case in point: Prometheus, who angered Zeus by bringing fire down from Olympus to give to mankind. Prometheus was punished in the most inhumane way possible (trust me, you don’t want to know), but that wasn’t enough for Zeus. He also wanted to punish Epimetheus, his brother. But rather than just torment him with giant birds for all eternity, as with Prometheus (see, I told you you didn’t want to know), he came up with a more sneaky plan for the brother. Epimetheus was lonely and unmarried, so Zeus had a wife made for him out of clay (an idea he picked up from some nut called Pygmalion). She was given life, the name “Pandora,” and a small box with a large, heavy lock. Zeus told Pandora that the box could never be opened, and gave the key to her new husband, Epimetheus. He assumed that Epimetheus, being a weak and stupid human, would eventually allow his curiosity would get the better of him and he’d open the box. But, as it turned out he was wrong…Pandora’s curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the box.

As soon as it was open, a stream of terrible things began to fly out of it and into the world. Hate, evil, fear, famine, pestilence, cruelty, disease, death, envy, avarice, lust, everything that makes life horrible flew out of that box like a bat out of Hades before Pandora was able to close it. She took it to her husband to beg his forgiveness for opening it when she realized it was not yet empty. She opened it again and something else flew out of the box: Hope. It thanked Pandora for setting him free and flew into the world, the world which now contained disease, evil, sin…and hope.

If You Liked My Stories, You Might Enjoy:

• The Goddess of Spring (1934) A Disney Silly Symphony which turned the story of Persephone into sort of a melodrama operetta. An important early experiment for the studio in animating human beings convincingly, which they would shortly do on a grander scale in Snow White.
• The Golden Touch (1935) Another Silly Symphony, this time about King Midas, though all the Greek elements have been removed. The only Silly Symphony directed by Walt Disney, and the last time he ever directed a cartoon.
• Jim Henson's The Storyteller: Greek Myths (TV) This sort of "spin-off" of the show I've touted time and time again starred Michael Gambon as a new storyteller who tells about Icarus, Theseus and Orpheus, among other famous figures.
• Muppet Classic Theatre (Video) In this version of the Midas story, Kermit is the king whose wife (Miss Piggy, of course) forces the Golden Touch on him, only to recant when he turns himself into gold!
• Hercules (1997) This movie, as well as the subsequent TV show, took the good bits of Greek mythology, the basic plots of the myths, and rewrote them in a more palatable, family friendly way. In my opinion, this movie is better than the myths, if for no other reason than James Woods makes a great Hades. Contains brief references to Pandora and Orpheus. Also worth checking out, if you get the chance, is the TV series which expands the universe with characters like Icarus, Helen of Troy, Adonis and Cassandra and boasts some truly impressive guest stars.
• Percy Jackson and the Olympians (Books, movies) This popular series of books by Rick Riordan tells of a modern day teen demigod and his adventures with the Greek gods of old. The film version of the first book features Steve Coogan as Hades and Rosario Dawson as Persephone.
• "Doctor Who" (TV) The final episode of Season Five contains several references to Pandora's Box. I mention it here partly to show the impact Greek mythology has had on popular culture, but also because my mother loves Doctor Who and she's a regular reader. So, I guess...hi Mom!

NEXT WEEK: "Clever Gretel"