chapter

THE LOVES OF THE GODS

Cast

Prometheus Chained Titan

Zeus Lord of the gods

Hera Queen of Heaven

Io Mortal princess

Hermes Messenger of the gods

Argus One-hundred-eyed henchman

Helios God of the sun

Hades Lord of the Underworld

Demeter Goddess of the harvest, mother of Persephone

Persephone Goddess of spring

NARRATOR: It was a typical day for Prometheus the Titan. The eagle that came every morning to rip out his immortal liver had not yet arrived. Over time, he had grown somewhat numb to the pain. The steel fetters that held him fast to the rock prevented any resistance, and after the daily grisly deed was done, he would writhe in constant agony until the orange of the sun touched the line of the sea. Then, by some otherworldly force, the hurting would stop, and he would feel the organ begin to form again within him.

This was his life—waiting and watching the landscape below him—but today something was different. A white speck was making its way down the coastline path that wound past his rocky perch. As it drew closer, he saw that it was a white heifer—perfectly formed.

NARRATOR: He was rather surprised that it responded. Of course, being a Titan, he could communicate with any beast, but this one had answered with the voice of a human.

PROMETHEUS: (thoughtfully) You are no beast. Are you under some hex from the gods?

PROMETHEUS: Zeus gives blessings grudgingly and curses easily. I myself am under one of these.

IO: I see that. You seem so kind. What did you do to deserve such a punishment?

PROMETHEUS: Ah, I offended Zeus by giving men his immortal fire. I have been trapped here ever since.

PROMETHEUS: Eh, I have gotten used to it. Besides, I always know that my crime was worth its penalty. Tell me, what has happened to you?

PROMETHEUS: Well, the day is hot, and you could surely use a rest. I am interested to hear how a maiden came to be transformed as you have been.

IO: (sadly) It’s a sad story. I have never told it to anyone. You are the first person who has cared enough to listen. I doubt I can get through it without tears.

PROMETHEUS: Speak. I will share your tears. I have much to weep over myself.

IO: It all started with Zeus. I was a naïve girl—easily infatuated with the thought of a handsome god loving me. I was sucked in by the excitement of it all, I guess.

NARRATOR: And so Io began her tale, and the imprisoned Titan listened intently as she recounted it. It had begun many years before, when Zeus had appeared to her in a restless dream and requested to be her lover.

ZEUS: Fair princess, I am Zeus, Lord of the Gods. I have seen your charms from above. The arrows of desire have pierced me. Will you consent to be mine? I will make you happier than any woman upon the Earth.

NARRATOR: Io found this quite shocking, and within her breast her heart beat desirously. To be the lover of a god—what prestige. She had no idea what gifts the immortals bestowed upon those they loved, but she was sure it was something undreamt of.

NARRATOR: And so the affair was begun. As the sun rose, Zeus spirited her away to a faraway meadow and appeared to her in all his glory.

ZEUS: Long have I waited for this, my sweet. But first, let me overcast the sky so that my wife’s spying eye cannot see us.

ZEUS: (confidently) Don’t worry about her. She’s a hideous old thing. I’m only concerned with you right now.

NARRATOR: With a wave of his mighty hand, mist filled the meadow—until the sun was all but obscured. He smiled upon this with satisfaction and swept the maiden quickly into his arms.

Within the hanging gardens of Olympus, Hera strolled casually. Her husband had left the palace early that day. “Business among the mortals,” he had said. But she had her suspicions.

HERA: (to herself) I must have Iris follow him. That fool thinks he’s pulled the wool over my eyes. If only I were a bit more mighty, I would punish him permanently for his unfaithfulness.

NARRATOR: As she said these words, her gaze happened to stray over the balcony to the world below.

NARRATOR: A haze lay over one portion of the countryside. Nothing could be seen beneath it.

NARRATOR: Swift as an arrow, Hera vaulted over the railing of the balcony and shot down through the atmosphere toward the hideaway of her amorous husband. The fog beat at her vision, and she slammed to the ground with an Earth-shaking jolt.

HERA: (screaming) Where are you, you dolt? I know you’re around here somewhere—hiding in the smoke with your mortal concubine!

NARRATOR: The Queen of Heaven began swiping at the clouds around her—growing angrier by the second.

NARRATOR: The haze was at once whisked away, revealing Zeus standing beside a pristinely white, though somewhat scared, heifer.

HERA: Oh, really? And what about this atmospheric disturbance? Clouds aren’t commonly found on the ground! You weren’t trying to obstruct someone’s view, were you?

ZEUS: Atmospheric disturbance? Oh, you mean the fog. That must be my fault. I’ve had a headache today. Whenever I have one of those, for some reason, the weather seems to change. (nervous laugh) Ahem. Yes. That’s it.

HERA: Uh-huh. And why exactly were you so interested in this cow, did you say?

NARRATOR: Zeus looked nervously to his transformed lover and began to stammer.

ZEUS: No, no, you see, I was looking at it because, because . . . (sudden idea) it’s a present!

HERA: (fake happiness) Well, why didn’t you say so, husband? And here I was thinking that it was one of your little hussies—transformed. Whew! What a relief.

NARRATOR: Hera stepped forward and began to stroke the shaking haunches of the princess.

HERA: Of course, dear. What else would I do with this? I can’t have a smelly old cow stinking up my chambers, can I?

ZEUS: I meant for you to keep it—as a pet, you know. But I’ll need to take it and have it groomed first, of course.

HERA: I think it’s been groomed enough. Very well. I will not butcher it yet. I’ll keep it, but it’s such a fine cow. I’m afraid someone will steal it. Aphrodite might want a cow of her own and try to steal mine! I’ll have to put a guard on it.

ZEUS: A guard? No, no, dear. No one would try to steal this beast away. Even if they did, I would replace it immediately—with an even finer one.

HERA: I could not bear it, Zeus. I love this cow. In fact, I think I will name her. I’ll name her Whitey. Do you like that name, Whitey?

HERA: See? We’re inseparable. Thank you so much, my husband. This is the best gift a wife can ask for.

NARRATOR: She smiled good-naturedly at Zeus, who began to say something but stopped.

ZEUS: Well . . . I guess I’ll be going . . . now that you have your . . . your . . .

NARRATOR: The Lord of Olympus turned—his shoulders slumped in regret—and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Smirking to herself, Hera rounded on her animal ward.

HERA: (gloating) So, thought you would get away with it, didn’t you? What a pathetic disguise. I mean, really. I’ll teach you the hard way to stay away from my husband.

HERA: I cannot undo Zeus’ transformation, or I would choose a much worse form for you. What I can do is put a guard about you—so that no one can get near you while I think of a suitable end for a cow such as yourself.

NARRATOR: Hera cupped her celestial hands together and bellowed toward the sky.

HERA: (yelling) Iris! Iris! Get that good-for-nothing Argus down here at once. I need his services.

NARRATOR: The air was silent for a moment, and then a faraway sizzling sound could be heard. Spreading across the sky, a magnificent rainbow headed directly for their location. The meadow filled with color, and a towering form was shadowed within.

NARRATOR: The shimmering light disappeared, and Argus appeared. Muscle on top of muscle padded his gargantuan body, and upon his brow were 100 eyes—all blinking and staring in different directions.

HERA: (grumbling) I hate that. I can never tell. (pause) Anyway, this heifer here is one of Zeus’ hussies. Watch her. Keep her guarded until I can dream up a fitting punishment for her.

HERA: (evilly) I was thinking she’d make some nice steaks—or maybe some beef jerky.

HERA: Watch her! Let no one near her! And whatever you do, don’t fall asleep on the job!

ARGUS: Do not worry. Argus’ eyes sleep one at a time. That way Argus is always seeing, and eyes still get rest.

HERA: (sarcastically) Fascinating. Apparently, being a freak of nature has its advantages. Well, I’m off. There are three other wenches I have to deal with today. My husband has been a busy man. Remember your job. If you fail me, I’ll put each of those eyes out myself.

NARRATOR: Hera raised her arms above her and with a flash of flame disappeared.
Io’s monstrous guardian turned to her.

ARGUS: Moo cow, do not be afraid. Argus will not eat you. Argus is vegetarian.

NARRATOR: And so Argus of the Hundred Eyes seated himself upon the grass beside the white heifer. Io—though her mind reeled with tormenting thoughts—made the best of the situation and began to graze upon the lush turf. Every move she made, her watcher’s gaze followed. So they spent the day—guard and guardian.

ZEUS: You have no idea. That woman won’t give up. Of course, I can’t really blame her. It is adultery. I just can’t help myself, y’know? I have needs.

HERMES: You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Father. I’m thankful for your adultery. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here—or Apollo for that matter, or Artemis, or Dionysus, or about half of the mortal world—

ZEUS: (irritated) I get the point. Anyway, Hera has taken captive one of my lovers, a white heifer.

ZEUS: (angrily) She wasn’t a cow to begin with! She was a gorgeous princess!

ZEUS: As I was saying, the Argus is watching her—and that’s a problem. You must trick him and steal Princess Io back for me.

HERMES: So . . . let me get this straight. You want me to sneak up on a creature that can see in every direction and steal one of your mortal merry-makers out from under his very nose?

NARRATOR: Hermes flew from the mountain—wracking his brain frantically, trying to come up with a scheme and achieve the impossible.

HERMES: He can’t keep all those eyes open all the time. There’s got to be some way to lull him to sleep.

NARRATOR: He dug in the satchel slung at his side and produced a set of reed pipes.

HERMES: These should do nicely. I haven’t found a being yet who doesn’t think pipe playing is the most boring thing on Earth.

NARRATOR: Beating his way down through banks of clouds, the golden form of Hermes started to change—becoming common, coarse, and badly dressed. A ragged tunic and a large floppy hat replaced his Olympian garb. He touched down not far away from the Argus and his bovine captive. (pipe music)

ARGUS: (speaking to Io) And then, moo cow, that is when mighty queen take Argus in and give Argus job. (pause) Argus hears music.

NARRATOR: The eyes of the monster tracked to the path where a scraggly-looking man was frolicking forth—playing jubilantly upon his instrument.

NARRATOR: Hermes stopped in his tracks and addressed 100 inquisitive glances.

HERMES: (happily) I am a shepherd, of course. See my ridiculous clothes and my dirty hands? I will admit at the moment I am rather sheep-less, but today is my day for pipe playing instead. Mondays, sheep watching. Tuesdays, pipe playing.

HERMES: My, my. What a wonderful heifer! Say—I’m not interrupting anything, am I?

ARGUS: (excitedly) Play! Play for Argus! But no funny business. Argus sees everything.

HERMES: Obviously. That’s a face only a mother could love—maybe not even her.

NARRATOR: Hermes winked at the confused cow and began to produce a trilling melody from his pipes, one that recalled a brook babbling far away. The soothing sound filled the air, and after several minutes, many of Argus’ lids began to droop. Almost all closed in slumber, but one—one in front—refused to sleep. Hermes played on. (pipe music)

An hour later, his fingers cramping from their activity, the god realized it was no use. The final eye refused to close—even while all the others slept peacefully. He stopped.

HERMES: My fingers are killing me. I need to give them a break. Are you sure you don’t want to lie down . . . take a nap? Maybe have some warm milk? I can ask the cow if—

ARGUS: Argus will not go to sleep! Argus said he would guard moo cow, and he will.

NARRATOR: Thinking, the god glanced at the sunlit meadow about him for inspiration. The flowers around were in full bloom.

HERMES: Spring. That’s what it’s about! Spring! (speaking very slowly in a soothing voice) It happened a very, very, very, very long time ago . . . in a place far, far, far away.

HERMES: Many years ago the seasons were not as they are today. It was always spring. The sun shone, and the ground yielded. Demeter, the Goddess of the Harvest, was eternally happy—teaching mortal man to farm and to grow. She bore her brother Zeus a beautiful daughter, Persephone, the Goddess of Spring.

DEMETER: Wouldn’t you say my daughter is the most gorgeous sight you have ever seen?

HERMES: Demeter was a very proud mother and thought that nothing could ruin her happiness. But she had not counted on the eye of Hades—the Lord of the Underworld—lighting upon Persephone as she picked flowers one day.

Hades was a god of few words. Living below with the dead had made him morose and withdrawn. His skin was sickly pale, and his fingernails were in bad need of cutting.

HADES: (mumbling, nearly incoherent) What a beautiful maiden. I must have her as my own.

HERMES: Roaring up from a crack in the ground, his black chariot—pulled by skeletal horses—thundered into the meadow where the young Goddess of Spring was frolicking.

HERMES: Definitely lacking in social skills, Hades began to sweat. Most of the people he dealt with on a daily basis were dead. He desperately wanted to tell this stunning goddess just how stunning she actually was, but all he could do was grunt inarticulately.

HERMES: Spurring his steeds forward, Hades swept the terrified goddess into his chariot.

HERMES: The ground once again opened, swallowing its deathless master, and the cries of Persephone were sealed up within the Earth.

PERSEPHONE: Let . . . go! Let go of me, you brute! What kind of freak kidnaps a defenseless girl?

PERSEPHONE: Let me give you a little hint! This is NOT the way to do it! Heeeeeelp!

HERMES: Back above the Earth, the Goddess of the Harvest was discovering that her daughter had vanished.

DEMETER: (calling out) Persephone! Where are you? Oh, I told you not to wander away!

HERMES: Demeter soon realized that she had, in fact, disappeared without a trace. The goddess began to wail.

DEMETER: (in anguish) My daughter! My daughter! Woe! (pause) I will search until I learn what has befallen her.

HERMES: But then a sudden thought came to her: What would happen to the Earth with no one to tend it? It would wither without the powers of Demeter to make its fields prosper.

DEMETER: Let it die. What has it done for me? It has taken my only love and hidden her from me.

HERMES: So the world wilted. Crops failed. The sky produced no rain. The sun scorched the land barren. And Demeter wandered, in the guise of a simple maid, searching for her beloved daughter.

At last, Helios, the sun himself, saw that creation would soon die if someone did not intervene. He called down from his fiery chariot to Demeter below.

HELIOS: Demeter! You must cease your wandering! Tend to the Earth, or it will die—along with all that live upon it!

DEMETER: I will not allow a plant to grow or a flower to bud until I have my daughter again.

HELIOS: Persephone? Do you not know? Hades has taken her into the Underworld. He has made her his queen there.

HELIOS: I saw it with my very eyes. Go to Father Zeus, and tell him your complaint. He is the only one strong enough to force Hades into giving her back.

HERMES: Demeter cried out immediately to immortal Zeus, begging him to remember his sister and the daughter whom he had fathered by her. Zeus heard her cry, and immediately dispatched the devilishly handsome and infinitely intelligent god Hermes to fetch the Goddess of Spring back from the Underworld. As the gorgeous god flew into the bowels of the Earth, he began to notice why they called them “the bowels" of the Earth. Ranks of decaying bodies waited in endless lines, foul rivers crisscrossed stinking plains, and the air smelled of rotting flesh. No wonder Hades had to abduct his dates.
Soon Hermes came to the palace of Hades and came before the grim god sitting on his throne of death. Beside him sat the emotionless Persephone—her youthful colors muted with a veil of black.

HADES: Orders? What do you mean orders? He rules above the Earth. I rule below it.

HERMES: Interesting distinction, but what I’ve come about is definitely an above-Earth matter.

HERMES: You know, nobody’s trying to point fingers here, but abducting a young goddess in broad daylight right out in the open isn’t really the brightest idea.

HERMES: Uh-huh. Well, you see, this lovely lady happens to be the daughter of Demeter. (sarcastically) And for some strange reason she’s a bit depressed about her daughter getting sucked down into Hell.

HERMES: You’re not listening. Long story short, she’s so miserable that the Earth is dying, people are starving, yadda, yadda, yadda.

HERMES: Think about it. Everybody’s dying. This place is crowded as it is. Do you really want to be swamped with all that extra work?

HERMES: Plus, I have this personal message from Zeus Almighty. (narrating) The dashing messenger god unrolled a parchment. (speaking) Ahem. He says—Don’t make me come down there.

HADES: (angrily) Fine! You may take her back to her mother! I didn’t want a queen anyway. It’s not fair! (weeping)

HERMES: (consoling) Oh, calm down! There’ll be more girls to abduct. There are plenty of maidens in the meadow.

PERSEPHONE: (emotionlessly) Am I free to go? Ever since I ate those pomegranate seeds yesterday, my heart has grown so cold. I think the sun will be the only thing to warm it once again.

HERMES: Whoops. Well, I don’t know if anyone told you this rule, but if you eat the food of the Underworld, you are bound to it.

HADES: (excitedly) Aha! I had forgotten that rule. Oh, well. Too bad. Guess you’ll have to stay here and be my queen after all.

HERMES: Wait a minute. If she’s only eaten some tiny seeds, then she doesn’t have to stay here all of the time.

HERMES: She may leave, but because she has eaten four seeds, she shall return here for 4 months out of the year.

HERMES: (narrating) Persephone smiled and leaned in close to the Lord of Death.

PERSEPHONE: It’s weird, but I kind of like it here. And underneath it all, you’re cute—in a creepy kind of way.

HERMES: (narrating) Hades leaned in for a kiss, but the Goddess of Spring took his hand.

PERSEPHONE: Let’s work up to that, okay? (pause) I’ll go visit mother, but I’ll be back.

HERMES: (narrating) And so every year Persephone returns to her mother, the Goddess of the Harvest, and there are 8 months of plenty. But when she once again goes away to be with her subterranean husband, Demeter mourns, and the Earth grows barren until her daughter’s return. And that’s why we must put up with fall and winter each year.

NARRATOR: Hermes stopped his story. All of Argus’ eyes were closed in slumber. Violent snoring was escaping his huge nostrils.

HERMES: I knew that one would put you to sleep. And now that you are easy pickings . . .

NARRATOR: The mischievous god withdrew a shining sword from the pouch slung at his side.

NARRATOR: With a quick slice he severed the monster’s head from its body. (snicker-snack) The hundred eyes had enough time to open before they once again became dim with death. With its deformed head rolling helplessly onto the grass, the body slumped forward.

HERMES: You’re free! Run while you still can! It won’t take my stereotypically evil stepmother long to figure out what’s happened.

NARRATOR: The transformed maiden looked to the messenger god questioningly. Was he not going to turn her back into her normal self?

HERMES: (sadly) Only Zeus can undo what he has done! Run! And when there is no harm of his wife finding him out, he will come to you and transform you once again!

NARRATOR: With suppressed rage, she flew to the carcass of her favorite sentry.

NARRATOR: She picked the severed head up into her arms and cradled it almost lovingly.

HERA: My faithful servant, let your hundred eyes never be forgotten. I will place them upon the feathers of my peacocks. There they will watch out over the world for eternity, and all will remember your greatness.

NARRATOR: With a sniff, she wiped the sadness from her face and dropped the head to the ground.

HERA: (seething) So, the harlot has found a way to escape, I see! Run, cow! Run!

NARRATOR: The Queen of Heaven snapped her fingers and a faint buzzing grew closer. A tiny gadfly landed in her palm.

HERA: Pursue her. Never give her rest. Drive her on through country after country. Make her regret her lust. Let her seek her death.

NARRATOR: The fly took to the air, and Hera, with a cruel smile of satisfaction on her lips, watched it wing itself away.

IO: And so I have wandered these many years—stung by the fly of Hera. Misery has been my life.

NARRATOR: The transformed maiden finished telling her tale to the chained Titan. There was a pause as Prometheus took it all in.

PROMETHEUS: You have been wronged most definitely. Your punishment is equal to my own. But I can tell you to take heart. As you spoke, I heard the future in your words. I have seen down the corridors of time. The day is not far off when Zeus will come to you and make you whole once again.

PROMETHEUS: Then this curse will be lifted. From him you will bear mighty sons—sons to bring you joy in the later years of your life. You will be repaid all this misery through that happiness.

PROMETHEUS: It is hope for me as well! From your line will come a mighty hero, the greatest hero, and he will be the one who will free me from my eternal punishment. Heracles, they will call him.

IO: (relieved) Finally! We both have been so wronged by the gods. Justice will be served at last.

NARRATOR: Leaving the chained form upon the rock, the white heifer continued on her path with a newfound spring in her step. Relief was in sight. Prometheus smiled as he watched her leave. Beyond her he saw the eagle coming—coming to disembowel him once again. But the glorious day was nearing when he too would be freed from his torment and released from his immortal chains.

DISCUSS

In this story, how are the gods shown in an unflattering light? Explain.
Should Prometheus be released from his eternal torture? Explain.

WRITE

Write a short skit that contains a frame story (a story-within-a-story). In other words, a character in your story will tell another story.

PRESENT

Present this skit to your classmates.

Helios (Roman Name: Sol)

To the Greeks, the sun crossing the sky day after day could be explained only one way: It was actually a god who drove his blazing chariot pulled by four fiery steeds across the heavens. Helios could reportedly view all Earthly events from his high vantage point, and in one famous story, he informed Hephaestus that Aphrodite and Ares were having an affair. When Greek men swore oaths by the gods, they often chose to swear by all-seeing Helios. The god’s palace was on the eastern island of Rhodes, and every evening, when he ended his journey far to the west, he and his team would float back to his home on Ocean (the river that encircled the Earth) in a golden cup. Because of his association with the Island of Rhodes, an enormous statue of him was erected there called the Colossus. It was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world until it was destroyed by an earthquake in 226 B.C. The terms helium, a substance once associated with the sun, and heliotrope (sunflower) are derived from Helios. The Roman sungod Sol, which was identified with Helios, gives us modern words like solar and solstice.

Many myths explain the why’s of nature: why the seasons change, why the sun travels across the sky, why sounds echo, why the designs on a peacock’s tail-feathers resemble eyes. Ancient people asked these questions, and because science was still in a primitive stage, they used myths to answer their queries.

Nature is unpredictable. The same natural forces that create peaceful, sunny afternoons can produce earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, and floods just as easily. The Greeks equated nature with the gods, and, therefore, the gods must be just as unpredictable as nature. They believed that the gods must have moods like humans—otherwise, what would explain the inconsistent nature of the world?

The Greek gods were capricious—they acted on whims. Greek sailors wondered why the same sea that gave them safe travel suddenly turned violent. The answer: Somehow they had offended Poseidon, the god of the sea. Emotions are not a bad thing among mortals, but the mood swings of the gods have the ability to ruin lives and destroy civilizations. For example, Troy used to be a thriving city—that is, until the gods started bickering over it. Now it is a heap of rubble.

In the myths, the Greek gods are rarely, if ever, worthy of worship. Their antics seem more like the actions of spoiled children than all-powerful deities. This is partially the reason for—or maybe a reflection of—the Greeks’ style of worship. The Greek gods did not love humanity. In fact, the creation of the human race was often attributed to a Titan, not a god. (More on that later.) Most Greeks worshipped a particular deity, not out of love or religious devotion, but to get something in return. Because the gods were fickle, it was important to stay on their good side. With numerous gods, it was hard to worship all of them, so the Greeks stuck to the ones who affected them the most. Sailors would not want to offend Poseidon, but if they were remiss in their sacrifices to Hera, protector of marriage, it was not a big deal. It was a buffet-style of worship, a pick-and-choose type of spirituality with heavy doses of “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours."

The gods were also the personifications of ideas and activities. Each god and goddess had his or her own niche, and the niches of some were quite specific: Hephaestus was the patron of blacksmiths and craftsmen, Artemis was the patron of hunters and unmarried women, Hermes was the patron of shepherds and travelers, and so on. Others embodied larger ideas, like Aphrodite (Love), Ares (War), and Hades (Death). Through these associations, the gods were equated with the forces of nature and the facets of everyday life.

Because of their irrational nature, some Greeks refused to believe the myths. Xenophanes, a student of Socrates, held that “[the poets] ascribed to the gods all things that evoke reproach and blame among human beings, theft, adultery, and mutual deception" (Brunet, Smith, & Trzaskoma, 2004, p. 433). He also accused the myth-makers of creating gods in their own human image, which he considered to be a ridiculous idea, an animal-like mentality, because if horses could create their own gods, “horses would draw pictures of gods like horses" (Brunet, Smith, & Trzaskoma, 2004, p. 433). Xenophanes had his own ideas concerning the gods (or god, since he was part of a monotheistic religion): “There is only one god . . . not at all like mortals in form nor yet in mind" (Brunet, Smith, & Trzaskoma, 2004, p. 433).

Whatever the myth-makers’ motives, gods with human shortcomings helped explain a world filled with its own contradictions.

DISCUSS

What events in the previous myth explain something about nature?

ANALYZE

The Greeks enjoyed hearing about the many affairs and scandals of the gods. In many ways, this parallels the modern-day obsession with celebrities. Instead of ascending Olympus, men and women flock to Hollywood to achieve “immortality" and become the latest subject of celebrity gossip. What do you think of this comparison?

It is amazing how much mythological strife and anguish could have been avoided if Zeus would have simply remained faithful to his wife! In story after story, we find Zeus paying conjugal visits to Titanesses and goddesses—not excluding his sisters and cousins—as well as to plenty of nymphs and mortal maidens. His infidelity makes for even more conflict within his already unstable family and turns his wife Hera into a vindictive beast-on-wheels.

As the head god, it is Zeus’ job to be the all-father. Excluding his brothers and sisters, almost all of the gods descend from Zeus. Likewise, many of mythology’s heroes are sons of Zeus. Powerful real-life kings in the later ages would even trace their lineage back to the Almighty Thunderer.

In order to conceive this multitude of illegitimate offspring, Zeus often adopts bizarre disguises. In various myths he appears as a bull, an eagle, a satyr (goat-man), a shower of gold, and—his most bizarre choice—a swan. In order to get to the mother of Heracles, Zeus simply appears as her husband. Unfortunately, a large number of his trysts are not consensual.

Some experts believe that Zeus’ various animal forms were actually smaller religions that were replaced by the worship of the Greek gods. For example, the people of Crete worshipped a bull-god. The Greeks explained this by saying that Zeus—on one of his many escapades—once visited their island in the form of a bull, and this is where the Cretan religion originated.

ANALYZE

Rather than condemning his
unfaithful behavior, most
Greeks considered Zeus’
extramarital escapades to be
humorous. The idea of Hera
angrily chasing him around,
trying to catch him in “the
act" was comical to them.
Some even called Hera a
stereotypical overbearing wife.
What do you think of these
characterizations? Does Hera
have a right to be overbearing?
Explain.

The Greeks used their myths to answer the big questions of life, and two of the biggest are “Why are we here?" and “Where did we come from?" According to them, the universe (or cosmos, a word which means “in good order") was created from chaos. Chaos is a confusing term because it has progressed through several different meanings. Chaos can mean “complete disorganization" or its ancient definition: “yawning gap" (yawning meaning “wide," not “tired.") So was the universe formed from nothing (a yawning gap) or from a swirling, jumbled mass of disorganized something? The Roman poet Ovid retells the creation story most poetically. To his mind chaos meant “disorganized." Chaos was a primordial substance, a haphazard mess of elements—water, fire, earth, and air—all competing against one another until an unnamed creator came along, tamed them, smoothed them into their appropriate places, and formed the cosmos. Listen as Ovid tells the story:

Before land was and sea—before air and sky
Arched over all, all Nature was all Chaos,
The rounded body of all things in one,
The living elements at war with lifelessness;
No God, no Titan shone from sky or sea,
No Moon . . . walked the night, nor was Earth poised in air . . .
Earth, Air, Water heaved and turned in darkness . . .
Where heat fell against cold, cold against heat—
Roughness at war with smooth and wet with drought . . .
Heaviness fell into things that had no weight.
Then God or Nature calmed the elements:
Land fell away from sky and sea from land,
And aether drew away from cloud and rain . . .
When God, whichever God he was, created
The universe we know, he made of earth
A turning sphere so delicately poised
That water flowed in waves beneath the wind
And Ocean’s arms encircled the rough globe:
At God’s touch, lakes, springs, dancing waterfalls
Streamed downhill into valleys, waters glancing
Through rocks, grass and wild-flowered meadows . . .
Then God willed plain, plateau, and fallen sides
Of hills in deep-leaved forests: over them
He willed rock-bodied mountains against sky . . .
As God divided regions of this world
Into their separate parts, then all the stars
Long lost in ancient dark began to light
Pale fires throughout the sky . . .
(Ovid, 8/1958, pp. 3–4)

DISCUSS

Do you like Ovid’s description of Chaos and Cosmos? Explain. What details does he use that are particularly vivid?

MYTH-WORD

The Greek word for the created universe, Cosmos, which means “in good order," is the root for something that puts a face in good order: Cosmetics.

COMPARE/CONTRAST

Read the creation account from the Old Testament (Genesis 1:1–1:31). How does it compare and contrast to Ovid’s account?

According to mythology, the gods were not the first group of immortal beings to inhabit the heavens. In fact, they were not even the second. After the creation of the universe, two elements appeared, Gaea (Mother Earth) and Uranus (Father Heaven). Coming together, these two forces produced a first batch of children who were hideously deformed: Some were Cyclopes (one-eyed giants), and the others had 100 gangly arms and 50 heads. Disgusted by their deformities, Uranus banished them to the deepest and darkest part of the Underworld, Tartarus. Gaea grieved for her first children, yet was compelled by Uranus to produce a second batch of offspring. These beings were the Titans, elemental giants who possessed mighty powers. As they were perfectly formed, Uranus allowed them to roam the Earth freely, and there was peace for a time.

The craftiest of the Titans, Cronus (called Saturn by the Romans), heard the weeping of his mother Gaea. He saw that she mourned for her deformed first-offspring, now locked beneath the Earth. Using this to his advantage, Cronus convinced his mother that the only way to free her long-lost children was to murder Uranus. The grief-stricken Gaea agreed to Cronus’ plan and gave him a scythe (or in some versions, a sickle) to help him accomplish his dirty deed. That night when Uranus materialized from the heavens to meet with his wife, Cronus leaped forward from his hiding place and, swinging his weapon, castrated his father.

Deeply wounded, his power gone, Uranus dissipated back into the sky, and there he lost substance. The blood of immortal beings had magical properties, and as the drops of Uranus’ blood rained from the heavens it gave birth to new creatures as it mingled with the dust. The three Furies, demonic spirits that torture criminals, arose with their eyes dripping blood. Also, a single drop of the magical blood landed on an ocean wave as it crested. Combining with the splendor of the sea foam, the blood produced Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty.

With his father displaced, Cronus set himself up as the new master of the universe, and ignoring his promise to his mother, left his deformed brothers chained beneath the Earth. As his new rule began, Cronus decided to make sure his reign would last forever.

DISCUSS

Sons overthrowing fathers is a common theme in mythology. Why do you think this is so?
Because the gods have yet to be born when Aphrodite springs from the sea foam, she is actually the oldest of the gods. Why would a myth-maker chose love (Aphrodite) to be older than the forces personified by the other gods (e.g., power, ingenuity, war, wisdom)?

ANALYZE

Cronus eventually became confused with Chronos, the Greek god of time. The image of Cronus wielding his scythe and holding an hourglass to indicate the passage of time probably inspired the image of Father Time.

VIEW

View the painting The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli (c. 1445–1510). This is one of the most famous paintings based on classical mythology. Has the artist depicted the birth of Aphrodite (Venus) well? Why do you think the Greeks chose seafoam as an ingredient in Aphrodite’s birth?

Every king must have a consort, so the Titan Cronus took his sister Rhea to be his queen. When the union produced its first child, Cronus knew there was a chance this child might try to overthrow him just as he had done to his father. It was not a risk he was willing to take. When the baby—the first of the gods—was at last delivered, Cronus swallowed it whole. Rhea was horrified, but it did not end there: A grisly cycle of birthing and eating had begun. Time and time again, Rhea delivered yet another perfectly formed infant god only to have it gobbled up by Cronus. The newborns Poseidon, Hera, Hades, Demeter, and Hestia were all devoured in this way. As his stomach continued to swell with the bodies of his own children, it seemed Cronus’ appetite for power would never be satisfied. At last Rhea had had enough.

In secret Rhea delivered her next child, a sturdy baby boy, and sent him to be raised by the nymphs of Mount Ida on Crete. When Cronus demanded to see the newborn, crafty Rhea wrapped a stone in blankets and presented it to her husband. He greedily gorged the decoy without a second thought, and Rhea smiled to herself. She knew her youngest son, Zeus, would grow to adulthood in exile and return to avenge his brothers and sisters.

Many years passed, and Zeus did return, grown handsome and strong. In secret he reunited with his mother and together they formulated a plan. Posing as Cronus’ cupbearer, Zeus poisoned his father’s drink. Poison could not kill an immortal, yet it would weaken Cronus long enough for Zeus to attack.

The plan worked perfectly. Cronus unknowingly drank the poisoned draught and, feeling the liquid burning, clasped his throat to halt its progress, but it was too late. As the Titan’s stomach began to churn and bubble, Zeus threw off his disguise. Cronus realized his worst fears had been confirmed: Somehow one of his children had survived. At that moment the Titan’s stomach convulsed, throwing him to the floor where he retched and heaved. One by one Cronus vomited up his devoured children—and last of all, a cloth-swaddled rock. Hades, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia stood over the prostrate form of their father—fully grown gods, seething in anger. But Cronus was not defeated yet; he called out hoarsely for his brothers and sisters to come to his aid. The palace began to shake as the great Titans drew near.

DISCUSS

There are many folktale elements in this part of the story.

a crafty character saves another character through an implausible trick;

a murderous parent;

characters are eaten, but not digested;

a character uses a disguise to trick another character; and

the youngest child is the most resourceful.

Identify these elements in the story, and then think of other folktales or fairy tales that use these elements in their own story.

FUN FACT

A shrine in Delphi boasted that it had found the stone that was substituted for Zeus and vomited up by Cronus. It became an ancient Greece tourist trap. Priests oiled the rock daily and on holidays decorated it.

ANALYZE

The Titans were probably deities worshiped before the gods arrived on the scene. As one religion replaced another, myths were created to explain why this occurred. This story was created during the time of the god-worship because it shows Cronus to be a monstrously cruel tyrant, begging to be overthrown. Some have even theorized that Cronus eating his children reflects a tradition of child-sacrifice that perhaps accompanied the older religion. Because such barbaric customs horrified the later Greek mythmakers, they created a story of how the “good-guy" gods overthrew the Titans.

VIEW

View the painting Saturn by Francisco Goya (1746–1828). (Warning: This is a disturbing painting that depicts Cronus devouring one of his children.) What details do you notice about the painting? Does it accurately capture the myth? Explain.

What happened next was an all-out war, one that shook the heavens and the Earth—Zeus and the gods against Cronus and the Titans. The raging of the two immortal armies leveled plains and pushed up mountains. The war lasted for 10 years, and gradually the Titans—being an older and stronger race—pressed an advantage. It became clear that the gods would lose if someone did not intervene. It was then that Gaea called out to her godly grandchildren, reminding them of the malformed monsters whom Uranus had locked beneath the Earth long ago and Cronus had failed to free. Seizing upon this opportunity for aid, Zeus descended to the Underworld to free the chained creatures, the Cyclopes and the 100-handed monsters. Had they forgotten how the Titans had abandoned them to prison for so many years? Now was their chance for revenge! Roaring in freedom, the 100-handed monsters burrowed up through the Earth to face their Titan brothers and sisters. The Cyclopes paused only long enough to bestow a new weapon on Zeus—his all powerful thunderbolt—before they flew into the battle as well. Listen as the poet Hesiod describes the war as it reaches its climax:

A hundred hands stuck out of their shoulders, grotesque, and fifty heads grew on each stumpy neck. They stood against the Titans on the line of battle holding chunks of cliff in their rugged hands. Opposite them, the Titans tightened their ranks, expectantly. Then both sides’ hands flashed with power, and the unfathomable sea shrieked eerily, the earth crashed and rumbled, the vast sky groaned and quavered, and massive Olympos shook from its roots under the Immortal’s onslaught . . . And now Zeus no longer held back his strength. His lungs seethed with anger and he revealed all his power. He charged from the sky, hurtling down from Olympos in a flurry of lightning, hurling thunderbolts one after another, right on target, from his massive hand, a whirlwind of holy flame. And the earth that bears life roared as it burned, and the endless forests crackled in fire, the continents melted and the Ocean streams boiled. . . . The blast of heat enveloped the chthonian Titans. . . . and the incandescent rays of the thunderbolts and lightning flashes blinded their eyes, mighty as they were, heat so terrible it engulfed deep Chaos. The sight of it all . . . was just as if broad Heaven had fallen on Earth: the noise of its crashing and of Earth being crushed would be like the noise that arose from the strife of the clashing gods . . . And the battle turned. (Brunet et al., 2004, p. 150–151)

When the dust of battle cleared, the gods were victorious. Terrified and defeated, Cronus fled to the far regions of the Earth. The remaining Titans were seized by many strong arms. For their crimes against the gods, they would be eternally punished—some chained in Tartarus (as their deformed brothers had been), while others would suffer Earthly punishments similar to that of Atlas, forced to bear the awful weight of the sky on his shoulders.

Zeus now ruled on high, but he did not hoard power as his father had done. He gave his brother Poseidon dominion over the seas and his brother Hades dominion over the dead beneath the Earth. Zeus declared his palace on Mt. Olympus to be home to any god who desired peace. The Cyclopes, in thanks for their rescue, made mighty gifts for the gods. To Zeus they had already given the thunderbolt, but to Poseidon they gave a trident, and to Hades, a helmet of invisibility.

Among the Titans were some whom Zeus spared from punishment. Prometheus and Epimetheus, a pair of Titan brothers, had refused to fight the gods, and for this they were allowed to roam the Earth freely. Yet as Zeus established himself as the new ruler of the heavens, he kept a suspicious eye on the two brothers. He had learned the hard way to never trust a Titan.

DISCUSS

Hesiod imaginatively envisions this cosmic battle and uses descriptive language to emphasize its magnitude. What are some of the best details he uses? Explain.
The appearance of the Titans is never clearly described, even though they sound like giants. How do you picture them?

MYTH-WORD

The element Titanium, the adjective titanic meaning “enormous," Titan the largest moon of the planet Saturn, and a professional football team (the Tennessee Titans) are all named for the Titans of mythology.

Although they were brothers, the two Titans Prometheus and Epimetheus were very different in nature. Prometheus, whose name means “forethought," was very cunning and sympathetic toward the lower creatures of the Earth. Epimetheus, whose name means “afterthought," was basically a kind-hearted fool. It was Prometheus, according to some sources, who saw that creation was not yet complete. There was one thing left to create.

Yet [the] world was not complete:
It lacked a creature that had hints of heaven
And hopes to rule the earth. So man was made . . .
It had a godlike figure and was man.
While other beasts, heads bent, stared at wild earth,
The new creation gazed into blue sky.
(Ovid, 8/1958, p. 5)

The poet Ovid’s account of creation ends with the formation of man—the one thing that creation lacks. He uses an interesting phrase to describe man: “a creature who had hints of heaven/And hopes to rule the earth." Just as he did not specify which god was responsible for making cosmos from chaos, Ovid offers two different versions of how man was created: Either the original creator God made man along with all of his other works, or Prometheus the Titan, mixing in a bit of celestial elements, sculpted man as gods made of clay. It was Prometheus as the creator of man who intrigued the Greeks the most.

The Titan had created man to be higher than the animals, to face the heavens, and to make the Earth plentiful. Yet he soon discovered that his creation was weak. Man had no way to stay warm in the winter, no way to cook his meat, and no way to keep wild predators at bay. Man needed fire. Only the gods possessed fire. It glowed in Hephaestus’ forge and in the halls of Olympus, but nowhere else.

Zeus was already suspicious of Prometheus’ creation. The audacity of the action, creating something new from the dust of the Earth, both frightened and angered the god. When Prometheus approached the throne of Zeus, begging him to give some of his divine fire to man, Zeus flatly refused. If man was not strong enough to live on his own, he should not live at all.

Prometheus could not and would not allow his creations to die out. Plucking a reed from a riverbed, the Titan snuck up to Mount Olympus. He crept into Hephaestus’ forge and, using his reed, took some of the gods’ eternal fire for himself, smuggling his prize back to Earth. It did not take long for the gods to discover what had happened. Orange fires dotted the landscape. Zeus seethed as he called Prometheus before him. Where did these miserable humans get the fire of the gods? Prometheus told the truth. He had stolen the gods’ fire and given it to man.

No punishment could be painful enough for such an offense, yet Zeus managed to devise an eternal torture that pleased him. Prometheus was chained to a jutting rock at the end of the Earth. Every dawn, an eagle—the bird of Zeus—came and tore out the Titan’s liver with its razor-sharp beak. Prometheus spent the course of each day writhing in agony, his stomach torn open. Throughout the night, the organ painfully grew back in order to continue the grisly cycle day after day. Prometheus took his punishment nobly and only lamented the tyranny of Zeus. To him, his torture was a small price to pay for giving his beloved children the fire of life.

DISCUSS

What is heroic and noble about Prometheus?
Why is Zeus so hard on Prometheus?
Do you find it odd that the gods are so opposed to man having the gift of fire?
Why do they want it only for themselves? Explain.

FUN FACT

The full title of Mary Shelley’s famous novel is Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Dr. Frankenstein, who gives life to the dead, is similar to Prometheus because he is taking a divine power into his own hands. Just like Prometheus, Dr. Frankenstein is punished severely for his actions.

Because man had already learned the secret of fire, Zeus could not take it back, so he plotted another way to punish mortal men. The Almighty Thunderer remembered Epimetheus, the dimwitted brother of Prometheus, and devised a way to ruin mankind through the chained Titan’s own family. His plan would require a new creation, and he went to Hephaestus with instructions at once. In the fires of his smithy, Hephaestus forged a new creation—one much like those that Prometheus had formed from mud. Only this one was different; it had grace and charm and a hidden purpose. This creation was a she, Pandora. Her name, “many gifts," told how the gods and goddesses heaped blessings upon her. Athena taught her how to weave and dressed her splendidly, Aphrodite sprinkled her with desire and heartbreak, and Hermes filled her to the brim with thieving morals, lies, and swindles. Zeus sent Hermes to deliver this new creation to Epimetheus to be his bride. As a part of Pandora’s trappings, the god included a jar, which he told Epimetheus and Pandora never to open.

Epimetheus did not expect a trick nor have the wit to watch his wife closely. Because Hephaestus had fashioned Pandora with enormous amounts of curiosity, it did not take the girl long to give in to her desire to know, sneak into the storehouse, and pull the lid from the jar. Shrieking as they came, every evil imaginable escaped into the world—sickness, decay, death, hardships of every kind. Even the foolish Epimetheus, when he came running, realized that Pandora had cursed all mortals with this action. A tiny rattling from within the jar stirred their attention; one final puff floated loose into the air—a wisp of hope. Zeus, not completely heartless, had sealed it in there as well to make the troubles of the world bearable for men and women alike.

DISCUSS

This male-authored myth portrays women as beautiful, thieving liars who cause nothing but suffering. Is this a fair portrayal?
Are women more curious than men? Explain.

COMPARE/CONTRAST

The Pandora myth explains how evil came into the world. Compare this story with the Biblical story of Adam and Eve found in Genesis, Chapter 3.

FUN FACT

In the Middle Ages, Pandora’s jar was incorrectly translated as Pandora’s box. This is still the name by which it is most commonly known.

ANALYZE

Some cynical readers interpret the inclusion of hope within Pandora’s jar as another cruel joke on Zeus’ part. According to them, hope is actually the cruelest evil of all because it gives you false optimism. Do you agree with this interpretation? Explain.

COMPARE/CONTRAST

Almost every culture has an ancient story that involves the flooding of the world. Read the Biblical story of Noah found in Genesis 6:5–8:22.

When Zeus heard rumors that humans had become wicked and corrupt, he went among the mortals wrapped in a human disguise to determine their character for himself. He visited the hall of a wicked king, who offered him a dish prepared from human flesh. Appalled by this sacrilege, Zeus zapped the king’s attendants with a thunderbolt and transformed the king himself into a ravenous wolf. Returning hastily to Olympus, Zeus was convinced that mankind must be destroyed. The other gods were perturbed by this announcement. Who would honor the gods if the humans were destroyed? But Zeus did not care and began to summon enough dark clouds to cover the sky. Fearing that the fire from his thunderbolts will destroy the world, he planned instead to drown the world in a divine deluge.

From where he was imprisoned, the Titan Prometheus saw the clouds gathering and sent word to his son Deucalion to build a boat. The good man heeded his father’s warning, and when Zeus opened the floodgates of heaven, Deucalion and his wife Pyrrha rode the waves for 9 days before finally beaching upon the height of Mount Parnassus. Seeing that the mortals had been completely wiped out except for the kindly Deucalion and his wife, Zeus allowed the waters to subside.

Lamenting the loss of their race, Deucalion and Pyrrha called on the Titaness Themis, known for her prophetic gifts, asking her how they might repopulate the Earth. She answered with a riddle: “Throw the bones of your mighty mother over your shoulder." Pyrrha believed that the Titaness was speaking literally, but Deucalion saw the hidden meaning of the riddle. Their “mighty mother" did not refer to their earthly mothers, but Mother Earth, meaning the “bones" of the Earth or rock. Each taking stones and tossing them over their shoulders, the couple walked down from the mountaintop. Where the rocks thrown by Deucalion landed, there sprang up men, and from those thrown by Pyrrha came women. So man was awarded a new generation better than the one that came before.