Essay: Crime and Justice in Ovid's Metamorphoses (Books 1-4)

Perseus vs Atlas

This image was found here, and it was made by Edward Burne-Jones

I enjoy reading literature, or at least tales, that are far removed from my era in order to get a sense of what “right” and “wrong” meant at the time of the story. In this way, I can get a view on the historical timeline of human morality. This is no different in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which happens in a time close to the AD/BC changeover: while I know that these myths are made not to be entirely realistic, it still reflects the values and mindset at the time they were written.

The most obvious and overarching pillar of good and evil is the judgment of the Gods, despite how flawed they might appear to someone of a more modern background. The impulsive and brutal activities the Zeus visits on mortals is, on many occasions, nothing short of monstrous. From what I have read, he really is a proverbial force of nature that does anything he wants whenever he wants. This is the primary point of the first tale, which details the flood Zeus used to wipe out most of humanity because HE was not pleased with their behavior. Events like these do surprise me momentarily on each occasion, but at the same time Zeus is as random and whimsical as nature is in addressing the existence of life, and nature is all-powerful as Jupiter is. Ultimately, his will is law (until it involves the titans, but I won’t address that).

But as we leave the top rung on the chain of justice, we start to see another theme: patriarchy. We don’t even need to leave the circle of the Olympians to see this, because Hera does not outright blame her husband (at least in the featured books) for attacking/romancing mortal women or female magical beings (dryads and others). These encounters usually result in the woman bearing child, and by this time Hera has become aware. And she punishes these women, not only because she is a God and has the means to, but she blindly assumes they had some power over the matter. Or maybe she finds it easier to blame these women than to try and change her husband’s ways (?). There’s no mistake that Zeus rapes some of these women in some form. However, readers can take-heart in that amongst mortals, rape is indeed a very serious crime. Despite the prevalence of patriarchy, there are occasional exceptions like in the invocation of the amazon warriors (but they are not mentioned in these books).

So, at the level of the Gods at least, most anything they say or do is set in stone as “right.” However, even when there are quarrels among the Gods themselves, like in the tale of Mars and Venus, there is no point in the story that Ovid even hints at the Gods reconsidering their actions or their intentions on their own. The way the disputes among each other are solved is by action alone: only a God can stop a God, but only by force of action. And this theme does follow what I said before about Zeus, even pertaining to the lesser Olympians: they are elements of nature itself, sometimes they clash, and one must win over the other. But they do not have second thoughts about their intent.

As we go further down the formalities of right and wrong in Ovid’s work, we approach the gray-ish realm of mortal man and magical beings. This level of morality, crime and punishment, is much more civilized, which is not surprising. Human disputes are often settled by human action, and the same goes for the creatures and monsters. However, there are clashes between humans and creatures, which is where things can become a little messy. Examples of these kinds of interactions can be seen in the tales of Narcissus, and Perseus and Medusa.

A trend that I have noticed is that Ovid never really allows a pure-blooded human to hold will and precedence over a God or Titan, but he will permit this on rare occasion when it comes to half-mortals born from divine lineage. The most prominent example in these books is that of Perseus. He was born to a mortal mother, Danaë, but she was got with child by Zeus who appeared to her as a ray of light. Half-mortals like Perseus allow Ovid to create well-balanced man vs God disputes, while still maintaining the real limitations that each character has. As a testament to this, using Medusa’s head, Perseus transforms Atlas the titan into stone in the form of a mountain. This comes after the fact that Atlas wanted Perseus to leave his land, but the half-mortal refused. In fairness, Perseus didn’t exactly react the most even-handedly by responding to a moderate retaliation due to trespassing with out-right murder.

The literature unit can be found here

Storytelling Week 2: My Version of Perseus and Andromeda

Perseus saving Andromeda, link

As Perseus rode the winds of the world, he pondered his most recent exchange with the Gorgan, Medusa. He had indeed relieved her dreaded head with serpents for locks from her shoulders, and made sure that her dead gaze only affected those whom he wished such an ill fate on. He anguished about his role in the ways of the world, mainly: “How is it that a mortal like me can challenge monsters and Gods, where so many mortals before me have failed?” He didn’t know of his lineage, how his father just so happened to be Jupiter who bestowed his seed upon the virgin Danaë. Though he was mortal, he did have the willful power of the divines to overcome those whom even the gods avoided challenging (Medusa’s gaze could indeed turn even the residents of Olympus into stone, despite them being more powerful than her on the whole). Being the survivor of so many battles and calamities so that even the fates were suspected to have played a part, Perseus’ guilt from surviving started to consume him as he looked over the horizons of the world and its people down below.


Perseus could no longer continue this cycle of languishing. He knew that he must be the one to stop himself from despair. “I must rest, and collect my mind.” he thought. He stopped at the first pleasant piece of land that he found: an area with rolling hills of lush grass, with bountiful, untamed livestock, next to a large sea-side mountain. As Perseus laid down to rest in the soft fields, the mountain began to bend over him, and emitted a booming voice, “WHO TRESPASSES HERE?” Perseus awoke with a start. “I, Perseus, son of Danaë! Who speaks?” The mountain’s form then became clearer as it lowered below the clouds: it was Atlas, the titan that held up the heavens. “So, wind rider, why have you come onto my claim on the world?” Atlas asked. “I only come to clear my mind, and if it is not beyond reason, perhaps some rest and food.” Replied Perseus. “OH? And what is it that ails your little mind, wind rider?” boomed Atlas, “Well, I have seen many lives fall before my own, yet I have survived even though I have braved the same perils. Such as my most recent quarry, Medesa the Gorgan!” The chiseled face of Atlas turned pale: he knew of the prophesy he was once told that his land would be overtaken by the beheader of Medusa. He began to raise himself up to his full height preparing to squash Perseus with his great limbs. Perseus, overwhelmed by the impulse of survival, lifted the Gorgan’s head to Atlas’, and in a flash, turned the titan into the mountain that he had mistaken him for in the first place.


Perseus fled. He could not continue this path; he began to consider the option of settling down and living the quiet life for the rest of his days. While riding the winds, several days after his exchange with Atlas, he saw a girl strapped to an obelisk on an island in the western sea. He dove down to investigate, “Lady, why are you in this predicament?” She looked at him, stunned, "My parents, they are powerful leaders of Aetheopia: the civilization of the 'sea breakers', who were gifted by Poseidon the control over all the forces of the sea. They wish me to express my own power, but I cannot. I do not think I am their child. They have put me here: either I must express my power over the sea, or I will be broken by it." Rising out of the waves, headed toward the duo at an increasing pace, was a serpent: larger along its length than even Atlas himself, and twice as fierce-some. "I cannot do anything to save us. I do not have the gift that my parents wish I had, though I would resent it even if I did. I do not want to rule: I just want to be mortal. Happy and mortal." Andromeda said woefully. "M'Lady," Perseus, replied solemnly, drawing his blade,"we may be very different in what we are, but we both share the same dream." The serpent raised itself to its full height, up above the mist of the sea shore, but just so that the glowing reds of its eyes shown through the fog. "I think you possess more potential than you realize. 'Happy and mortal' will come to both of us. But for now," Perseus gazed directly up into the serpent's maw, "we must show the Fates that 'happy and mortal' is worth fighting for."



Author's note:

I wanted to take on a different perspective to the Greek hero epic, especially those that featured heroes which had supernatural births. I would expect, that in real life circumstances, some great heroes (like Hercules, Achilles, and Perseus) would start encountering a great degree of "survivor's guilt" at some point in their lives. It just seemed like such a natural turn for a story to take: what if some of these heroes who possessed the lineage of the Gods were undesiring of their power? What if they were tired of seeing loved ones or friends dying while they stayed alive? Like I said before, the direction of the story seemed so natural if these heroes were put into a real life setting: post-traumatic stress would eventually get into the minds of half-mortals who, because of their supernatural parents, saw the lives of others passing them by.





Bibliography:
I used the story of Perseus and Andromeda found here

Ovid's Metamorphoses - Reading Diary B - Week 2

Perseus holding Medusa's Head

The image above can be found here, it is by Simone Viteri

The story can be found here

I'm not really sure if I should approach the tale of the debate between Zeus and Hera about who enjoys sex more, man or woman. It just seems like a one-off episode that was inserted by Ovid to present some humor in contrast with the darker topics covered in the previous chapters. Although, this story does ring a point that I made in my previous post: the deities of legend seem far more human in their whims and fancies than one might assume.

For similar reasons, I'm not sure if I want to address the stories of Narcissus or the Mars and Venus affair. There's just too much attention paid to lovers by this point, at least for me as part of a modern audience. In Ovid's defense, these stories were probably not experienced in bingeing portions. They were probably told over numerous episodes, where the audience experienced points of rest. But to me at least, some of the nuances of the stories concerning the adventures of lovers are just lost, at least until I can read them at a pace that permits me to be more appreciable.

I do start to like the story arc more as Ovid moves on from the affairs of the Gods to the triumphs that mortals or divine heroes (born from Gods and mortals) take over the classical obstacles and threats that we know and love, starting with the exchange between Perseus and Atlas. I found it refreshing to read the tale of Perseus changing Altas into a mountain after the titan refused to give food or shelter. And worst of all, for Atlas anyway, the titan fell prey to his own superstitious mind. This is sort of unexpected, since I have always read passages about Atlas to describe him as a very discerning character. No matter. Like I said, it was very satisfying to see Perseus give at least one of the immortals a retaliation for their petty whims.
     Further on, Perseus goes onto slay a sea serpent to save Andromeda, the daughter of Cassiopeia and Cepheus, for her hand in marriage. Obviously, this is the sort of tale that would inspire the "Prince Charming" sort of stereotype, which isn't bad in this case. Like I said before, the first part of Ovid's story was almost solely centered round the affairs of the Gods and how they wreaked havoc on mortals who may have not necessarily deserved the torment they received from the heavens. So, the way this section ends in a tale about Perseus slaying Medusa is quite a nice change of pace.

Ovid's Metamorphosis - Reading Diary A - Week 2

This picture is from here, by Francois Boucher

The unit of readings is found here

I find it interesting that the whole unit starts out with a flood story, with Deucalian and Pyrrha surviving. The obvious comparison to this story would be that of Noah, but it's morbidly funny how Zeus/Jupiter is angry at mankind for their misdeeds, when it becomes apparent later in the unit how monstrous Jove can be to both other Gods and the mortals.

When it gets to Jupiter's activities: wow, what a tale.... Whenever I read of him, I'm always somewhat astonished by Jupiter's/Zeus' messy combination of crassness, pettiness, and brutality. He almost reminds me of the God of the old testament, plus the whole business of bestowing virgins with children and all (which is new testament, I know). Not only that, but Juno/Hera does a lot of victim blaming as well whenever she learns of her husband's debauchery. This kind of brings up a point about the Greek mythos that I haven't been able to answer: did all of the gods pretty much go with whatever Jupiter did because of his power? As if they were all just incapable of doing anything about it?

Anyway, it's also funny how any number of Gods seem to have extremely human-like characteristics in stories. They all seem to have vices one way or another, and I guess this stems from these stories about deities being written by mortals. But the main difference between the deities and mortal characters is: the plot always seems to agree with what the deity winds up doing, and discounts mortal/non-Godly characters as just a peripheral result of the deity's actions.

Specifically on the tale of Callisto, I question about stories featuring virgins conceiving children from Gods: if the stories are based on alleged real-life accounts, would it be more likely that a virgin conceived deity's child, or that she's just being untruthful about her encounters with men? This point is also brought up in this tale, when Diana sees Callisto's rounded belly. The Goddess of the Hunt doesn't even allow Callisto to defend herself morally, instead immediately banishing her.