“The gods, fearing Agdistis, cut off the male organ. There grew up from it an almond-tree with its fruit ripe, and a daughter of the river Sangarios, they say, took the fruit and laid it in her bosom, when it at once disappeared, but she was with child. A boy [Attis] was born, and exposed, but was tended by a he-goat.”

Obviously, there’s a lot going on there behind the scenes, but this is such an awesome story, and so full of awesome characters that I can’t help but share.

First of all, this is definitely a story about how sex - especially feminine sexuality - can be dangerous (to men). Keep that in mind as you learn who’s who.

So, the person whose “male organ” gets cut off? That’s Agdistis. I bet you’re now thinking that Agdistis was a man. In fact, Agdistis was a hermaphrodite, or to use a less loaded but more anachronistic term, intersex and also two-gendered. (Genderqueer people take note! There may be a little bit of room for reclamation here.) Anyway, Agdistis was conceived from the masturbation (or wet dreams) of Zeus, but once born, everybody started freaking out. They thought that having two genders meant that Agdistis was also doubly powerful, and so the penis severing was their violent attempt to neutralize what they perceived as a threat. What makes this even MORE awesome? Agdistis was Cybele, who is a totally rockin’ Phrygian goddess that often gets identified with Rhea, but also made it all the way to Greece (and Rome) to be worshiped in her own right.

Now you’d think that this would be the point at which I could talk about Nana, right? But no. After wandering by and accidentally getting knocked up with Agdistis’s almond-seed (heh), she disappears from view, and all attention gets put on Attis. Attis, by the way, is a gender neutral name in Greek, like Iphis, but this Attis was born a boy. However - and here’s where the stories are really different depending on who you’re reading - something screwed up happens. Either 1) Agdistis (Cybele) falls in love with him and shows up at the wedding whereupon Attis (and the father of the bride) castrate themselves and maybe die (there’s also a woman at the party who cuts off her breasts) OR 2) Attis grew up being totally devoted to Cybele which meant also staying a virgin, but then he eventually sleeps with a nymph named Sagaritis (which sounds suspiciously like Sangarios …), and the goddess kills the nymph and Attis castrates himself.

So there’s some incest in there, but MOSTLY this is seems to be a story about the dangers of a sexual fertility Goddess who is out of a more powerful male’s control. Which, given that she wasn’t considered monstrous, is pretty awesome. It’s worth mentioning too that even in later ancient Rome, there were priests to Cybele (called Galli) who castrated themselves when they entered her service, so this was obviously more than a powerful gender lesson.

Still interested? Read the whole story here. Also, I wrote a post about Transgender Myths to Know that you might also find interesting.

*The second painting is of Cybele, aptly set in the pine forest where Attis went insane and castrated himself, taking a break with her lions. Like much of Meriaux’s work, I think this so perfectly captures the danger and sex and violence hidden in the banality of every day life.

So I was thinking about it. Who are your favorite characters? What are your favorite stories? What actors do you think could do them justice?

Now I don’t think I could possibly say FAVORITES, but one mythical chick I’d love to see on screen is

Antigone

Based off of the Sophocles plays, she’s one tough cookie of a princess, daughter of an (unintentionally) incestuous and doomed marriage between her dad/brother Oedipus and her mom/grandma Iocasta, sister to thepathetic Ismene and two overly aggressive brothers, and fiance to her cousin Haemon whose daddy eventually (SPOILER ALERT) sticks her in a cave to starve to death (she decides not to wait for that and goes with suicide instead).
Favorite line?

Herald:I forbid you to act thus in violation of the city.
Antigone: I forbid you to make useless proclamations to me.

Yeah, The Seven Against Thebes was pretty rockin’. Anyway, so Antigone? I’m going with Gina Torres. I think she’s got the guts and the gravitas to make Antigone as awesome as she should be.

So let’s take a moment to consider the other players in her life.Who could play Ismene, for example?I mean, she starts out like a wet blanket, and you kinda love to hate the girl, but she’s not a total wash, and you need an actress who can bring out the nuances of wanting to be a good woman and being stuck with that meaning you’re kind of a wash as a human being. I’ve seen Cate Blanchett do that well, but this really calls for a younger woman, I think. Maybe Audrey Tatou?

That leaves us with a few people, depending on which part of the story we want to tell. Who would make a good Haemon? Who’d make the villain Creon (her uncle, Haemon’s daddy)?  What about Oedipus and Iocasta? How about her brothers (I think Dante Basco should be one of them, tho)?

What do y’all think?

• Nobody’s Princess by Esther M. Friesner (about Helen of Troy)
• Quiver by Stephanie Spinner (about Atalanta)
• Medusa Jones by Ross Collins (about, duh, Medusa)
• The Courtesan’s Daughter by Priscilla Galloway (about the infamous ancient Greek courtesan Neaira, more historical than mythic, but close enough)
• The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner starting with The Thief (the world is based off of Ancient Greece and the myths are loosely inspired by Ancient Greek myths)
• The Young Heroes series (they are stand-alone books) by Jane Yolen:
  • Hippolyta and the Curse of the Amazons (about Hippolyta)
  • Odysseus in the Serpent Maze (about Odysseus)
  • Atalanta and the Arcadian Beast (about Atalanta)
  • Jason and the Gorgon’s Blood (about Jason)

Then there’s the one’s that are aimed at grown-ups, like:

• The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood (which I reviewed here)
• Lavinia by Ursula K. LeGuin
• Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis (a retelling of the Psyche myth and one of my very favorite books ever)

My secret confession is that despite my love of YA books and my adoration of Greek mythology, I am rarely a fan of the novel adaptations. Mostly I think I’m just a grinch, which is why I hope that interested people will check out some of the ones I’ve listed above (I’m especially a fan of The Courtesan’s Daughter and The Thief), but there’s another reason too.

I really hate it when I get kids emailing me CONVINCED that Rick Riordan’s version of one god or another, or the structure of ancient Greek mythology generally is How It Worked. I don’t mind them getting the myths wrong or misunderstanding the various deities (much), because, honestly, who’s to say? But what I really hate is the idea that gets stuck in their little brains that there is One Correct Version. And the immediate follow up question is always, “is it real?” To which I am loathe to respond “no.” But when I DON’T respond “no” I get asked what the appropriate steps to BECOME a deity are. Or, alternatively, how they can get in contact with other children of Greek gods. Which kind of makes me cringe.

Grinch, I told you. But also because what is really out there is SO much richer! It is a real live other world that no one really sees or knows about anymore that they can actually access by reading the original poems. And they can!!! They TOTALLY can. The Homeric Hymns and certain translations of the Metamorphoses are fantastic for kids! I taught them to middle schoolers with no problems at all. People don’t give kids enough credit.

What do y’all think?

I thought about it. The emailer was correct that the word Ovid uses to describe their sexual intercourse does not emphasize consent. But, in the end I decided not to for two reasons: 1) I’m pretty sure Ovid considered Medusa responsible for the sex, and that is not a description of rape I am comfortable with, and 2) having re-read Ovid’s version, I now think that Medusa is an awesome resister of the patriarchy!

There is a third possible reason as well, namely that earlier versions of the myth describe “laying together in a soft meadow among spring flowers” and even Ovid later describes this event as a “mingling of soft embraces.” This could easily outweigh the one word “vitiasse” (which I have arbitrarily decided to translated as “spoiled”). But the reality is, I don’t think we SHOULD write off “vitiasse.” In fact, quite the opposite! I think that Ovid is making the point that Poseidon “spoiled” Medusa for marriage. I mean, Ovid’s whole introduction to this is about what a hot potential wife Medusa was! This would have been considered illegal for both parties in ancient Rome, which helps explain why Ovid continues that Athena’s mutation of Medusa was a punishment of her “filthy crime.”

So, if you believe as Ovid appeared to that Medusa was complicit and responsible for this whole sexy-sex with Poseidon (which, for those who don’t remember the details of the story, took place in the temple of Athena), then Medusa is not the kind of victim that a current reading of the word “rape” might suggest. Instead, she becomes this totally awesome radical damn-the-man feminist! She says, “F* you, suitors, maybe I just want to have sex with a cute guy instead of sitting inside your women’s quarters for the rest of my life!” She says, “F* you, you daddy-loving, girl-power-hating Goddess! Maybe I don’t think you or any other representation of the system should get to decide where or with whom I get it on!” And, yeah, she totally suffers the consequence of breaking the rules, and, yeah, she is totally turned into this awful threat to women of “this is what happens to women who sleep with sexy men when they should be the property of their fathers,” but DAMN if she doesn’t go down fighting. Looking at it with a BIT of a revisionist eye, she lives out the rest of her life fighting against those “heroes” of patriarchal Greece. Even sitting on Athena’s shield should remind you of the dangerous power of a woman who decides to stop accepting the sexist rules and strikes out to do what she will!

Go Medusa!

What Wendy took issue with was not my dilemma, but the foundational concept underlying my dilemma: Are We Authentic? Her post is well written, and I suggest you read it, but there are two points that I want to respond to in particular: 1) that even if we’re not “authentic,” it’s okay to re-use other people’s stories

Are all of those mentioned above, and many more, examples of appropriation as the legends and myths travel with us to new places and times? Very possibly. But is it wrong, is it a sort of cheating? No. They all serve our very human need to explain ourselves, not just to ourselves, but to the universe, to our ancestors and descendants.¹

and 2) we very well may be more authentic than the source material we have available to us

I can’t agree that your ‘appropriation of Greek Goddesses isn’t authentic’. Oh yes, the records we have today come down to us mostly in male voices, from men who lived in a society that feared and hated women, but are we much different than that today? … I don’t believe the myths and characters from ancient Greece were born in a vacuum, but that they were revised, re-written and co-opted from earlier times, changed to appeal to the audience of the day. … So… a reinterpretation for today’s women and purpose is as authentic as the Greek myths were in their time.²

She is right, of course, that stories are constantly being reframed, and, indeed, that is how they continue to live and remain meaningful. And she is right that, “in reality, we cannot know what they thought,” and that our reframing may give voice to people we cannot hear in the textual sources. The problem comes, however, when you erase someone else’s voice to do that. And it’s really a problem, when that erasure reproduces oppression. And that’s exactly what is meant by appropriation; that’s why it’s not a neutral word. (more…)

And yet I would normally give something four stars that had all of those things. Five stars, saying, “I loved it,” needs something more. Something which is unique to my reading of it, instead of everyone else’s. A person reason. I just realized what it is.

I have read a bunch of fiction that plays with Greek Myths, from The Penelopiad and The King Must Die to The Lightning Thief and Roman Blood. I often enjoy these books, but I am almost always frustrated by them as well. The problem is that making Greek myths relevant and interesting often decontextualizes them so much that they lose what makes them truly meaningful and timeless. Of course, there are NEW ideas that have the potential for deep meaning as well, but I always grumble to myself, why did they have to erase the original meaning to do it?!

This book does not erase the original meaning of anything. It does not attempt, to explain the original meanings in their depth. Instead, it seems to simply celebrate that they WERE meaningful. But [author: Tom Robbins] doesn’t stop there. He examines history. How meaning (and identity) grows over time. How it lives. And in doing so he brings the ancient Greek characters to life again. Forever. Yay!

I recommend this book for Classicists who don’t like retellings of mythology; people interested in religion; anyone who likes good stories.

As some of you may remember from my post on Age-Appropriate Definitions in Greek Myths, I am hardly a radical on the question of how to talk about sexuality with kids, but (if people stopped forgetting that greek myths are full of this sort of thing) the book I dream of one day writing (discussed here) would probably be screwed, too.

ETA: Yeah, Lovers’ Legends Unbound got stripped of its Amazon Rank. Jerks.

But, just as the ancient Greeks worshipped their heroes, so did I. Antigone just about blew my mind (and even if I didn’t want to end up the way she did, you better believe I looked at the way she stood up to her uncle and cheered and wished my uncle were half so awful so that I be that cool). And the monsters? The Harpies can hardly fail to inspire your imagination, and in them it is easy to see the hunger, the snatching, selfish NEED that we all must carry somewhere inside us …

When I learned about them, really learned about them, I realized that they didn’t “really” mean to the ancient Greeks what they meant to me. That my use of them, my appropriation of them, wasn’t “authentic.” And as I started to learn more about ancient Greece - and, for example, the meaning of a motherless virgin like Athena who wants nothing to do with power for women - I began to have a great respect for what the world might have looked like for them.

The myths stopped being about me. And when they did, I stopped having a personal relationship with them. And when that happened, when the mystery about their place in the world was gone, I could not worship them any more. Not even in the little syncretic way I was attempting.

Maybe I should post a disclaimer on my site so that unsuspecting worshippers won’t stumble into relativism and out of their sacred cosmoses.

I am, however, still thinking about stories, and myths, and religion, and women, and goddesses. Hopefully, that’s still interesting to the people who make their way to this website. I’ve been considering trying another start-up like the attempt I linked to in my post on Celtic Pretties, but this time doing it on some of the myths and goddesses of Mexico and Central America. There are tons of amazing goddesses to learn about - take the goddess Coyolxauqui, the moon, who tried to kill her brother Huitzilopochtli, and whose body was broken into pieces, or their mother Coatlicue (the Lady of the Serpent Skirt). I would love to learn more about them and share the awesomeness with you.

But I face a dilemma. I do NOT want to write about this in a way that goes: look! exotic! and encourages cultural appropriation. On the other hand, I do believe that these stories - while they should continue to “belong” to the indigenous peoples of Mexico and Central America - should be known and respected and retold and made relevant in new ways as continues to be done with Greek mythology. That said, I don’t necessarily think that I, as a white person with very little background in the topic at hand, should necessarily be the person making the call on how to go about doing that. While what I’ve done with (women in) Greek Myths hadn’t really been done when I got started, I’m not sure that it’s an appropriate approach to other mythologies.

The description of the book is, “older than the Bible, the Koran, or the Torah, this stirring epic [is] the world’s oldest written story.” I can’t speak to that myself, not having looked farther than this book, but it is easy to believe. Apparently, it was written in cuneiform and wasn’t translated until the 1970’s!

And, even though this story is about a boy, it is also about Inana, the most important Goddess in the Sumerian pantheon and the Goddess of Love and War. (See, I’m making the ancient goddess connections!)

Highly recommend!

(As always, feel free to join me on Goodreads.com!)