Assignment - A Tale from Aphrodite's Point of View

Hephaestus, Ares, and Aphrodite

Aphrodite Speaks

https://www.art-prints-on-demand.com/a/balen-hendrik-van-the-eld/hephaestus-and-aphrodite.html

Oh, how handsome he looks, cheeks flushed with desire, breath passing through reddened lips. His eyes portray his lust, sparkling in the warm light. The whisper of his breath caresses my cheek as he murmurs gentle words. Tonight, he wishes to woo me. I watch him for a moment, words dancing upon the tip of my tongue, but I remain silent. Compared to Hephaestus, well, it would be a lie to allude at any existing comparisons between the two. Where my husband is lame and repulsive, Ares is young, beautiful, and romantic. His hands are soft, yet tough, unlike Hephaestus' fingers that are only horribly calloused from his labors.

The words that soon reach my ears pull me away from my thoughts and my lips quirk as I breathe in Ares' scent. "Sweetheart, off we go to snuggle down in the blankets," he murmurs, "Your husband? By now, he must be in Lemnos, amusing himself with the Sintian women, with voices like crows." I laugh and shake my head as my fingers brush against his offered hand. The women in Lemnos will find not one redeeming quality in my husband and even if one lady somehow finds him attractive, not much will happen. It is a shame Hephaestus is so enthralled with me. He does not understand love as I do.

http://www.arthistory.sbc.edu/imageswomen/papers/wiggintonaphrodite/aphrodite.html

Ares leads me to my bed, his fingers clenching my palm in possession. He need not worry, for tonight, I am his until my husband returns from his travels. I dearly hope that the man will find belonging in Lemnos and refuse to return for many more nights, but I know of his dedication to me. If only Ares were as passionate and found me before I was betrothed to the lame god. I would not mind being committed to him. He is a fierce warrior and a worthy lover. Yes, if only Hephaestus found a woman in Lemnos to take his hand…

Ares releases me, climbs into bed, lays on his back, and holds an arm out to beckon me forward. A romp with him would be amusing if the look on his face is any indication. Smiling, I take his hand and drift forward, bringing my body close to his. He relinquishes my hand to rake his fingers through my long, golden hair. Already, his fingers are affecting me in a way any part of Hephaestus' body never could. I close my eyes and snuggle with him, one of my legs draping over his groin. My lips find his chest and press a kiss upon his hard muscles. All is perfect until I hear a sound.

I try to throw my head back, but cannot move. Frantically, I glance around the room, trying to comprehend my immobility. It takes a moment, but during one optical sweep of the room, I see threads as fine as a spider's web ensnaring my lover and myself, but I cannot be positive. No, I must not have imagined it. A trap! Who would dare to take me prisoner within my own bed? Ares stiffens so I attempt to look into his eyes, but cannot move my head enough to see his face. He is angry. Or upset. Curse this wretched net! This is Hephaestus' handiwork!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Vulcan_Coustou_Louvre_MR1814.jpg

As if summoned by my thought alone, I hear the voice of the person I least wish to see and clench my teeth behind my closed lips. He planned this. He knew. He knew! If he questioned my motives, he should have held voiced his thoughts to me alone. It would not have done him any good, but speaking is more acceptable than this insult. And he wonders why I have chosen Ares over him. The God of war and battle would never do something so underhanded and infuriating. Hephaestus is lame and will never be anything ore than an embarrassment with a funny gait.

Murmurs fill the room. Of course. Hephaestus would not shout of his victory if he were alone (though, he is rather peculiar). My cheeks grow heated with embarrassment and anger. What is it that this insolent man seeks? Approval? Retribution? Time in bed with me? I will not grant him anything of the sort.

http://thanasis.com/mfeb99.htm

I can decipher some of the voices. Only the masculine gods are present. It makes sense. Gawking at a nude woman in the midst of a romantic interlude would be below the women. So this is what Hephaestus yearns for--pity or other nonsense. I wrinkle my nose and listen, wary of the outcome. Both Hermes and Apollo seem to approve of my affair and speak of Ares' position in jest. Hermes seems to wish that he were as lucky as Ares is and I cannot help but feel a swell of pride at the words. Given the way my lover still has not yet unclenched his muscles of yet spoken, it is evident he does not feel the same. My initial flash of pride is chased away by a flare of anger. How dare he? How dare Hephaestus interfere?

My emotions race, anger, embarrassment, and sorrow each competing for dominance. Finally, we are released from the trap after interference from Poseidon. Ares diverts his gaze and pushed me away as I sit. Neither of us speak as we move in silence. He leaves after that, fleeing from this scene, I would assume. I stand up straight, hold my head high, and exit the room. My shrine in Cyprian Paphos beckons me. There, I may relax and cleanse myself with ambrosial oil while I attempt to forget that unworthy husband of mine.

Who Am I?

Who Am I? 

From the point of view of a Goddess

Ah, look at them down there, pining over one another. Neither one is strong enough to admit what ails them so. With just one push, the relationship would form. Just one. It is tempting, so tempting, but they are wrong for one another. That maiden over there would be better. Yes, those two will do. Now, I must--Ah.

There he is, the king who once stole my heart, now forever lame from a lightning bold. Even in his state, he is still more worthy than that petulant fool of a husband. He knew how to treat a woman. I wish I could release myself from this bind, but the other gods will hear nothing of it. Even after that humiliating experience where I was ensnared in a trap within my own bed. He was angry that I brought another companion to bed? What did he expect? This male was far better company and love should be allowed to flow freely. It should not be held hostage by some… fool.

Enough of that. There are mortals to tend to. Hmm. It might be fun to see what that woman will do if she falls for that man. Oh, what will her sister think? There is but one way to find out. Tonight will not be an empty one.

Assignment 1 - Narcissus and Echo

Narcissus and Echo

Love is an emotion most people experience at least once in a lifetime. Some, those who are still blissful and in the throes of romance, will claim that it is a magical sensation. Others, having experienced the sharp stab of heartbreak will claim that directing intense feelings toward another individual is a curse, something the wise would happily avoid. The object of lust makes all the difference when a person finds him or herself yearning for a connection with another individual. For, is it not true that happiness is often found when feelings are requited? Rejection brings devastation and mental trauma as powerful as physical pain. Even the Greeks touched upon the consequences of love in mythology. One well known tale that comes to mind is that of Narcissus and Echo.

When she first appeared in myth, Echo had a gift for words and used her voice as if it were a weapon to save her fellow nymphs from Hera's wrath. Echo deliberately kept the goddess away from the nymphs who frolicked with her husband, Zeus, by providing a distraction in the form of an entertaining story, for she loved the sound of her own voice and reveled in the attention she received. If not for her intervention, the goddess would have punished the guilty women who dared lay with her husband. Irritated and still fuming with jealousy, Hera punished Echo by affecting her speech. No longer would a torrent of words flow freely from the girl's mouth. She was condemned to a life of vocal repetition and only allowed to speak if she wished to echo the words of another.

http://www.myemospace.com/Broken-heart-16.html

Narcissus, birthed by the forced union between Cephisus and Liriope, was blessed with good looks from the moment he took his first breath. His mother contacted a seer and inquired about his life, wondering if he would grow quite old in his lifetime. She received the obscure answer, "Narcissus will live to a ripe, old age, provided he never knows himself." Ignoring the warning, he lived life normally enough, ensnaring the hearts of men, women, and nymphs with his appearance and charm, only to carelessly crush the spirits of anyone who dared to pursue him. He had great pride in his appearance and over the years of constant love and attention, he grew haughty.

Echo, only able to repeat words she first heard by this point, caught a glimpse of Narcissus and immediately felt her heart flutter for him. Unable to say the first word, she crept closer, waiting for an opportunity to converse with the beautiful male. Narcissus, feeling alone after leaving his companions, offered a question to the air, "Is anyone here?" Echo felt a jolt of excitement rush through her body and repeated the last word. The conversation continued for a few sentences, Narcissus beckoning for the woman to come nearer as she repeated words. She took his words as an invitation to join him, but before she reached him, he cruelly turned away and fled. Heartbroken, Echo hid herself away in a cave. Eventually, her body drifted away, leaving just the echo of her voice.

Eventually, Narcissus experienced a punishment for his cruel deeds, but not until he broke one heart too many. Ameinius, unable to bear his heartache, killed himself after he received a sword from the cruel Narcissus and pleaded to the gods to punish the man who hurt him so badly. Artemis, hearing the plea, made sure to answer the prayer by giving Narcissus a curse. Instead of breaking hearts, Narcissus would grow to learn exactly how his poor suitors felt.

http://thanasis.com/echo.htm

One day, Narcissus felt exhausted after traveling and rested next to a spring. His tired eyes turned toward the water and there, floating upon the surface, was the most handsome sight he ever saw. His heart palpitated in his chest, beating in exuberance. It was that moment that he fell in love with his own reflection. He yearned to touch those exquisite features gazing back at him, but each time the pads of his fingers brushed against the water's surface, the image flickered and grew distorted. He would cry out and wait for the water to settle before again locking eyes with himself. After days of torment, he began to grow weak. Unable to tear himself away from the sight of his own face, he failed to feed himself. Soon, he fell victim to madness. In the end, he died before his reflection. Depending on the version of the story, he either drowned himself or sent a blade through his own chest. Dying was more appealing than a love that could never be requited. Echo, mourning her loss, though she still had not forgiven him, cried out the last words he ever spoke, "Alas, alas." A flower sharing the name of the dead man grew in the space he once occupied.

http://livingwithplants.blogspot.com/2009/02/narcissus.html

The cautionary tale of Narcissus and Echo helps explain the origination of echoes in the world, but also serves as a teaching device. Narcissus, a man guilty of hubris in terms of his good looks, is punished for his heartless actions toward others. He was handsome, yes, but his life revolved around his appearance and the way he could affect everyone around him by simply staying within their presence. The story reaffirms the old saying that "beauty is only skin deep." Narcissus may have been a beautiful being, but beneath his skin, his heart and soul were dark and twisted. He happily hurt others in order to make himself feel even better.

Narcissus' story is well known and in the psychological community, doctors have used his name to describe a sort of personality disorder that revolves around and obsession with one's own appearance. A person diagnosed with the disorder will often believe that he or she is better than everyone else. Such people are often arrogant, opinionated, and impulsive, but will often first appear as charming individuals. More often than not, these people attract positive attention from peers, but will often find friends and admirers leaving once the personality beneath the exterior beauty is revealed. To a narcissist, other people are exploitable and exist only to aid him or her with his or her needs. Signs of narcissism are often apparent at a young age, once again relating to Narcissus, who was loved from the moment he was born.

However, unlike Narcissus, most people diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder normally did not grow up in environments filled with love. A child living in a family with little affection will turn his or her attention inwards as a coping mechanism. Eventually, after the child erects a barrier to keep the remainder of the world away, he or she begins to associate warm feelings with vulnerability. It is better to believe that he or she is the best person around than to fall victim to the pain often connected toward caring about another person.

I decided to share and review the myth of Narcissus and Echo because narcissism is one of my favorite personality disorders, though I suppose that there is a better way to phrase my interest in the subject. Disorders may be serious, but psychology is an interesting subject, especially since humans do not yet have all the answers about the brain. As I writer, I want to create believable characters even in my genre of fantasy/science fiction, and to help me with this goal, I purchased a book called The Writer's Guide to Psychology. I do take the time to research any disorder or personality trend further once I decide on what I wish to work with, but this book is helpful with providing basic information on many psychological terms. 

Sam, one of the characters I created four years ago, is a narcissist down to his core. He is arrogant, self-centered, and impulsive. Sometimes, when talking to friends, I need to explain exactly how idiotic this boy can be since he cares little about the world around him. If asked what twelve squared is, he will yell that it is a stupid question and he cannot fully show the answer without a pen and paper so that he may write twelve with a square drawn after it. Sam plays guitar in a band so he is often admired by those who observe his actions, but he refuses to allow anyone close enough, for he fears making himself vulnerable to feeling. His personality pulls some components from the narcissistic personality disorder and mixes it with other points from Narcissus' story.

Sam Morel drawn by a friend

The myth of Narcissus and Echo also teaches a reader or listener to be wary of concealing the truth and spinning dishonest tales. If Echo did not attempt to take advantage of Hera's interest, she would never would have lost her freedom of speech. During the time that the myth was created, women did not have as many rights as men did and were not seen as citizens where their voices may have mattered. The tale seems to have a hidden meaning, one that attempts to show that a woman should not speak when it is unwarranted.

Many lessons may be found within Greek myths and today, we may still learn from them. Narcissus and Echo is a personal favorite of mine and I love how I can use concepts from the tale in my own writing. 

Before using the drawing that my friend did for me, I told her that I would link to a site where she posts her art so here it is: Her DeviantArt Page