Monday, March 30, 2015

Metamorphoses III

In the story of Scylla and King Minos, I think Scylla was portrayed as rather psychotic in my opinion.  Granted, she did have time to develop her feelings over the course of the war, she should have expected that Minos wouldn’t have easily reciprocated those feelings, after all.  She adores this man as a god, and basically scalps her father and tries to betray her realm in order to win him over.  She got the heartache she deserves for being so treacherous?  What would stop her from turning on Minos if someone more legendary came by one day?
The story of Daedalus and Icarus has the classic lesson of quitting while you’re ahead.  Just because he had the ability of flight at the time, didn’t mean that he was like a god, and I think the incidence put him in his place…rather permanently.  He should have followed his father’s instructions.  After reading the classic stories of Icarus and Theseus vs the Minotaur in the labyrinth, I honestly thought they were based on longer poems.  I suppose they may have been short, but they were sweet and to the point.
In Meleager and the Calydonian Boar, the goddess Diana throws a tantrum because she is the only deity that doesn’t get their due honor/tribute.  She sends out this massive boar to lay waste through the land, and I was immediately reminded of Ishtar and the Bull of Heaven.  This seems more epic in ways, and less in others.  It’s more epic in that the story includes a multitude of different heroes.  I’m only assuming that most of the names I don’t recognize (or had a hard time keeping up with) are also heroes of renown.  It’s only less epic in that the boar is restricted.  The Bull of Heaven was killing thousands, but each were devastating in their own ways.  I enjoyed the fact that Atalanta (a woman) was the first to draw blood.  Meleager was the first to notice, and gave her the highest of honors at the end of the battle.  Unfortunately, this would be his ultimate undoing, which leads me to my second favorite part of Book 8.
I was fascinated by Meleager’s background story.  After he kills his uncles in a skirmish over who deserved honor for killing the boar, his mother has mixed feelings and goes back to an old prophesy spoken over Meleager.  Apparently, When Meleager was a babe, the Sisters Fate cast a curse (albeit, it could be a blessing in some ways) that his lifeline would be tied to the integrity of a log.  Interesting that his mother had been tempted to burn it several times over the course of his life to extinguish him, but I guess killing her kin was the last straw, and she finally did it.  She did have a lot of inner turmoil before she finally did it, but I don’t condone her past and present behavior in the least.
The story of Erysichthon (that’s a mouthful) is, perhaps, my favorite story in Book 8.  He is one of the most impious of men I’ve read thus far in Ovid’s collection, and he gets his just desserts (a little food is hidden in there somewhere).  He hacks away at this sacred oak tree that houses a wood nymph, begging for compassion.  He even beheads one of his own men for showing respect to the divine realm.  Erysichthon fells the tree, but the spiritual world won’t let him get away with it.  A wonderful game of telephone ensues (dryads to Ceres, Ceres to mountain spirit, mountain spirit to Hunger), and the punishment is afoot.  The description of Hunger incarnate on page 332 is both fascinating and grotesque.  If Hunger were to be given form, I imagine this would be it!  And what a punishment Erysichthon suffers.  Nothing satiates his appetite…not even his own flesh.
To conclude my blog for now, I will lastly mention the sad/happy tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.  It may be a better known story, but this was my first time reading it.  I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but it definitely makes me think back to Lot’s wife turning to a pillar of salt in Genesis.  It was stressful enough that Orpheus should go through all that trouble to win the hearts of the denizens of the underworld, and Pluto/Hades himself.  Now that he had Eurydice back, he was just supposed to guide her up without glancing back.  If a god gave me his word, I would do my best to stick with the plan, especially after going through all that trouble.  It was sad that he lost her prematurely a second time, but as the story goes, she could rest easy knowing that he looked back out of love and concern.
Questions
Was giving honor to Atalanta for wounding the boar such a bad thing?  Do you think extinguishing Meleager’s life was acceptable?
What are some similarities and differences between the Calydonian Boar and the Bull of Heaven?

Do you think Hades/Pluto’s stipulations on removing Eurydice from the underworld were more than accommodating (being so moved by the song), or do you think he knew Orpheus would turn around?

Monday, March 23, 2015

Metamorphoses II

            In the beginning of Book 4, we have the three daughters of Minyas exchanging stories of unfulfilled love.  The story of Pyramus and Thisbe piqued my interest the most.  Anyone who knows the story of Romeo and Juliet ought to be familiar with most of the elements in this story.  I don’t know much about Shakespeare beyond several works that I have gleaned over in my high school years, but I honestly wouldn’t have guessed the inspiration for one of his more renowned works was pulled heavily from someone else.  I shouldn’t have to detail too many similarities.  Two lovers long to be together, but their respective families won’t allow it.  They steal away to be together, and one commits suicide under the impression that the other has died.  The surviving member kills themselves upon this actual realization, united them in death.  Ovid’s story gives us a much shorter and precise tale, but in a way, the ending gives me a happier sort of feeling.  Pyramus and Thisbe apparently never happened to embrace in love.  I think their first kiss was when Pyramus lay dying.  Truly the inclusion of the gods offers more promise and fulfillment at the end that they will finally be united in death.  I also liked the etiology of the ripening color of mulberries woven in as well.  If that wasn’t originally part of their story, it certainly fits in wonderfully.
            I knew going into the tale of Arachne that it would end up serving as an origin story to spiders.  The name Arachne is obviously a play on arachnid.  I doubt that they came up with her name beforehand, but it would be interesting.  Going through the story, I’m not sure which side to take, but I am leaning toward the gods.  This is one of the few stories where I can slightly agree with the gods’ resolutions.  This woman was personally taught by Minerva to spill wool and tapestries, but denies such divine training.  She basically scoffs at the gods, claims her abilities as her own, and even goes so far as to say her talents exceed those of Minerva.  Minerva accepts this unofficial challenge, and granted Arachne handles herself well at first, she definitely chooses the low road.  Minerva honors her family, and Arachne decides to shed light on many misdeeds the gods are guilty of.  Yes, everyone agrees that her art is magnificent, but she is such a poor sport, she was practically asking for some sort of punishment, and I think she deserved it.  As aforementioned, this is one of the few stories I think the mortal receives their just desserts.
            The story of Cephalus and Procris was mildly depressing.  The earlier tales that the daughters of Minyas spun were slightly familiar to me, which is why they probably didn’t have as much of an impact.  In the beginning, Cephalus was definitely an idiot, going to great lengths to catch his wife with infidelity, and she had been so faithful all this time.  The part that moved me was her loss.  Granted, the circumstances were slightly ridiculous (him practically whispering sweet nothings to the breeze and the boy relaying false ideas of an affair to Procris), it was still a sad ending.  I’m glad she died in peace, but it was tragic that it all happened for practically no reason.  I wonder if readers of the ancient world may have thought that all of it was ultimately his fault, and placed little to no blame on the boy that gave Procris false information.  What I think is great about the ending is that he’s able to finish his story, put his men to tears, and then take charge of the troops.
Questions:
Even though many transformations do their part in explaining the natural world, does the overall theme still unify these stories well enough if these transformations forfeit center stage in the story?
Do you think Arachne deserved her fate? Why or why not?

What is the most moving tale of loss that you have read about so far in Ovid’s stories?  Why?

Monday, March 16, 2015

Metamorphoses 1

                As I may have mentioned in previous blogs, I love to read about any type of creation myth and compare it to those I’m familiar with.  The stories told in Ovid’s Metamorphoses are no exception.

With the start of the creation on page 5, Ovid gives some colorful imagery to work with.  I can almost see a painting composed of colorful torrents of energy amassed.  It’s interesting to see that an unnamed god starts creating order after Chaos, disentangling the energies and giving “them their separate places” (6).  I get an image of a powerful being actually shaping the universe with their hands, separating the elements into their respective domains, and even creating separate climate zones on page 7, which is something I haven’t really seen discussed in an origin myth before.
                On page 8, we see something comparable to elements in Judeo-Christian creation.  Man is created to take dominion over the beasts of the earth.  We have higher cognitive function, and from the start we were children of philosophy, with our faces “uplifted to gaze at the stars of heaven” (9).  This is what I think it suggests, as we may have retained some divine element of the heavens in our being, and this is what separates us, making us almost in a godlike image.
                The depiction of the Four Ages (9-12) is not unlike accounts in Genesis.  In the Golden Age, it is always spring, and the lands are lush and self-sustaining in foods of all varieties.  There is no need to work the land, and everyone seems to be living harmoniously.  This could be what the world was like before Adam and Eve sinned, because afterward, they were required to work the land.  Murder and depravity began to stain the earth, which led to God flooding the world.  As the ages pass, from Gold to Silver to Bronze and finally Iron, mankind has taken a similar path, and this horrible behavior warrants retaliation by Jupiter.  He was not alone in this task to wipe out and reshape humanity, as Neptune helps on page 18.  This is somewhat similar to the Sumerian pantheon deciding to rid the world of man.
There are two things I find most interesting about this version of the flood story.  First, Jupiter initially chose to destroy the earth by fire and lightning, but realized that this fate would befall the earth at a later time (17-18).  This is partially in concordance with scripture throughout the Bible.  The other interesting thing is that there were numerous survivors at first, but they had died off from starvation.  The only two that made it were Deucalion and Pyrrha, but there was little indication that they were favored by the gods, as Jupiter noticed them, their little boat, and their prayers after the floodwaters had destroyed all else.  It was more like he felt bad for them, as they were devout, and called off the destruction early (21).
Reading the transformation stories gives new insight as to how the ancient Romans saw their deities.  Even the gods couldn’t help to keep themselves from the beauties of mortals.  This was explained in both the stories of Daphne and Apollo, Jupiter and Io, and Pan and Syrinx.  Apollo fell under the charms of Cupid’s arrow, chasing after Daphne, a human repulsed by any man.  It ended similarly to Syrinx’s story, with both of them being transformed into natural objects by nymphs.  Unfortunately for Io, it wasn’t by choice.  Jupiter couldn’t man up to his infidelities and instead decided to let Io suffer for it.  It is interesting to see that even the most revered of gods in the pantheon would resort to molestation and injustice.  These human-like qualities have been quite prevalent in past readings, such as in the Odyssey and the Epic of Gilgamesh.  I almost wonder if these stories are promoting chastity, as the women refused these gods, despite the situation.  It is a bizarre turn from the etiology I am familiar with in his works.

Questions:
Do the stories that Ovid attempts to patch together seem rather streamlined, or do the events that don’t necessarily occur in chronological order create some confusion?

What do you think the purpose was with having gods so enraptured by mortals?

What are some of the ideas of ancient philosophical science bleeding through the creation myths in the beginning of Book 1?