===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
I took her to art galleries and libraries. We stood looking at sculptures in the middle of a park. We walked through bohemian areas of town, and then took the bus out to the suburbs. We strolled along beside carefully mowed lawns, and watched children play-acting. We explored the less attractive parts of town, where women sold themselves to feed their children beneath giant graffiti murals. We walked that city till our feet ached, and then we sat at the top of a tall building and watched the lights come on.
We sat silent for a long time. Eventually, she sighed.
"OK, I give. What was the point of all of that?"
"You don't understand?"
She shook her head. "Unless it's something like the diversity of human life, and the fact that that diversity is only possible because of choice? Always assuming you're trying to make me feel better."
"You can take it that way."
"But it wasn't what you were going for?"
"Well, maybe, but it is more than that. You gave humans much more than just choice, Pandora. You gave them the ability to create."
She frowned.
"One follows from the other, you see. Look at that, out there. Those lights. This city, and all cities, are full of people finding ways to create. To make things from nothing. They tell stories. They make art. They grapple with science and find new ways of doing things. Prometheus gave them fire, but you gave them the ability to learn how to harness it properly. Without the choice, and without the obstacles you let loose, they wouldn't be able to do that."
"You're saying it was a good thing?"
"It's a bittersweet gift, to be sure. You showed them their mortality. By taking away fate as an excuse, you made them responsible for themselves, and for each other. Some of them hate you for that. It is a terrifying thing to know that life really is what you make of it. It scares them, because it means that they have to make something of it. There are many reactions to that. Some of them desperately accumulate wealth and power in an attempt to escape that mortality, and it results in injustices and imbalances. But others approach it as an opportunity to make something beautiful. You gave them that option."
She was intent on my face. I smiled.
"In many ways, you're the goddess of artists."
That made her laugh. "I've never thought of that. Without choice, without adversity, there would be no art."
"Not just art, Pandora. Their mortality makes them do things, feel things more intensely. Without it, there would be no love."
====
I left her there. walked away into that wild city, just another invisible bag lady. But there was a sense about her that was different - a sense of possibility.
Zeus will be mad when he hears about this, I thought. But it didn't matter too much. That story, and others like it, needed to be retold.
As I shuffled down an empty 3am street, lit by streetlights, I thought,with a smile, Maybe the world's about ready for a new 'Once upon a time'...
Showing posts with label pandora's gift. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pandora's gift. Show all posts
Sunday, 8 June 2008
Monday, 2 June 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 7)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"And still you opened it?" I asked, surprised.
She looked askance at me. "He didn't only tell me what Zeus knew. He told me the rest too. And I think you know what I mean. I also think that's why you're here. Because you thought I didn't know."
"what did I think you didn't know?"
"That it was about choice. That box had all the evils of the world in it, yes. Disease, pestilence, plague, the works. And, of course, the infamous hope. But that's not all it had. It had choice. For mortals. Or, rather, the understanding that they have choice." She smiled wryly. "And all the accompanying drama."
"Ah." I smiled quietly. She'd gone part of the way. I just had to push her through the rest of it.
"So you deliberately gave them choice at the cost of everything else?"
She dropped her eyes to her now-cold coffee. "I have to admit, I have wondered sometimes if it was worth it. At the time, because of what Heph and I had talked about, it seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed that it was a worthwhile bargain. I had visions of people free of Zeus' tyranny, the tyranny of fate. People free to make their own lives. I thought..."
"You thought they'd thank you."
She nodded.
"But they didn't. Quite the opposite."
A tear fell.
"Still hurts you, doesn't it?"
She shrugged, dashed the tear away, and sat up straight.
"So maybe I chose wrong. At least I chose. They make some terrible decisions a lot of the time. But sometimes they get things right. And that's always beautiful to see. I do doubt my choice, but I don't regret having it, and sometimes that's enough."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this strong, broken girl. I stood.
"Come with me."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"And still you opened it?" I asked, surprised.
She looked askance at me. "He didn't only tell me what Zeus knew. He told me the rest too. And I think you know what I mean. I also think that's why you're here. Because you thought I didn't know."
"what did I think you didn't know?"
"That it was about choice. That box had all the evils of the world in it, yes. Disease, pestilence, plague, the works. And, of course, the infamous hope. But that's not all it had. It had choice. For mortals. Or, rather, the understanding that they have choice." She smiled wryly. "And all the accompanying drama."
"Ah." I smiled quietly. She'd gone part of the way. I just had to push her through the rest of it.
"So you deliberately gave them choice at the cost of everything else?"
She dropped her eyes to her now-cold coffee. "I have to admit, I have wondered sometimes if it was worth it. At the time, because of what Heph and I had talked about, it seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed that it was a worthwhile bargain. I had visions of people free of Zeus' tyranny, the tyranny of fate. People free to make their own lives. I thought..."
"You thought they'd thank you."
She nodded.
"But they didn't. Quite the opposite."
A tear fell.
"Still hurts you, doesn't it?"
She shrugged, dashed the tear away, and sat up straight.
"So maybe I chose wrong. At least I chose. They make some terrible decisions a lot of the time. But sometimes they get things right. And that's always beautiful to see. I do doubt my choice, but I don't regret having it, and sometimes that's enough."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this strong, broken girl. I stood.
"Come with me."
Friday, 16 May 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 6)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"I went at night," she said. "There were two reasons for that. One, I assumed, from what I'd heard about him, that Zeus was more likely to be preoccupied at night, so he'd be less likely to know what I was doing. And secondly, I didn't want to have to deal with that eagle."
She smiled grimly. "It was still pretty unpleasant, though. "
"Prometheus was, exactly as we'd heard, tied naked to a rock. It took me a very long time, and a lot of bribery, to find him, but I did. It wasn't a pleasant discovery. He was thin, his ribs sticking out of his skin in a way I had never encountered before. And he smelt. The smell was the horrific part. Suffice to say there wasn't a lot of cleaning going on. He was also, against all expectations, sleeping.
"I didn't want to touch him. He really was filthy. Fortunately, I had a staff I'd used to help me up the mountain, so I poked him with it gently, from a good metre away. He groaned. In that groan was clear all the pain and suffering he was undergoing, and I felt a pang of guilt disturbing him from the little rest he could get. But I knew he had the answers I needed, and so I poked him again, despite the pangs of conscience. This time he woke, and looked at me through bleary eyes. Against all expectation he knew who I was.
"'I suffer enough, rat,' he said, and closed his eyes. His voice was like sandpaper. Although I didn't know the description back then, it had a similar effect as nails on a chalkboard.
"'Please. I need your help.'
"He opened his eyes again.
"'My help? I have helped enough.'
"'I have water.' I had brought water as a purely compassionate move. I figured he'd be thirsty, tied to that rock. But now I realised I could use it as a bargaining tool if necessary.
"He grimaced. 'Do you seek to make it worse? I know what they made you for.'
"I sighed, unable to use the bargaining chip I'd just discovered I had, and walked over and dripped some water into his mouth, holding my breath against the smell, before moving away again hurriedly.
"'Ok. Listen to me. I also know what they made me for. To open your box. But I know I don't have to. I can choose. So, I am here to find out why they want me to open it. Or, more especially, why Zeus does. I have learnt a lot about him recently. He is not... what I thought he was. To be frank, I doubt his motives.'
"Prometheus chuckled rawly, and weakly motioned for me to continue with one bound hand.
"'I'm here because I want you tell me what's inside.'
"He was silent, in thought, for a long time. But eventually he told me."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"I went at night," she said. "There were two reasons for that. One, I assumed, from what I'd heard about him, that Zeus was more likely to be preoccupied at night, so he'd be less likely to know what I was doing. And secondly, I didn't want to have to deal with that eagle."
She smiled grimly. "It was still pretty unpleasant, though. "
"Prometheus was, exactly as we'd heard, tied naked to a rock. It took me a very long time, and a lot of bribery, to find him, but I did. It wasn't a pleasant discovery. He was thin, his ribs sticking out of his skin in a way I had never encountered before. And he smelt. The smell was the horrific part. Suffice to say there wasn't a lot of cleaning going on. He was also, against all expectations, sleeping.
"I didn't want to touch him. He really was filthy. Fortunately, I had a staff I'd used to help me up the mountain, so I poked him with it gently, from a good metre away. He groaned. In that groan was clear all the pain and suffering he was undergoing, and I felt a pang of guilt disturbing him from the little rest he could get. But I knew he had the answers I needed, and so I poked him again, despite the pangs of conscience. This time he woke, and looked at me through bleary eyes. Against all expectation he knew who I was.
"'I suffer enough, rat,' he said, and closed his eyes. His voice was like sandpaper. Although I didn't know the description back then, it had a similar effect as nails on a chalkboard.
"'Please. I need your help.'
"He opened his eyes again.
"'My help? I have helped enough.'
"'I have water.' I had brought water as a purely compassionate move. I figured he'd be thirsty, tied to that rock. But now I realised I could use it as a bargaining tool if necessary.
"He grimaced. 'Do you seek to make it worse? I know what they made you for.'
"I sighed, unable to use the bargaining chip I'd just discovered I had, and walked over and dripped some water into his mouth, holding my breath against the smell, before moving away again hurriedly.
"'Ok. Listen to me. I also know what they made me for. To open your box. But I know I don't have to. I can choose. So, I am here to find out why they want me to open it. Or, more especially, why Zeus does. I have learnt a lot about him recently. He is not... what I thought he was. To be frank, I doubt his motives.'
"Prometheus chuckled rawly, and weakly motioned for me to continue with one bound hand.
"'I'm here because I want you tell me what's inside.'
"He was silent, in thought, for a long time. But eventually he told me."
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 5)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"But you still opened it," I said.
She nodded. And changed the subject back again.
"But he understood. He knew how powerful it was. He knew that mortals having choice, free will, was necessary for us."
"You speak like you are one of them. Look what they've done with it!"
"Oh Athena! I know you're wise, but sometimes you're really dumb. They're flawed. Broken. They hurt and destroy and use their will for bad. Often. But they are also beautiful. And REAL in a way that you and I will never be. Because they have choice, and everything in their lives is affected by that."
"Sounds like you don't need me after all."
She grinned, a very unusual, room-lighting grin. "Hey, you came looking for me, remember." The grin faded, as fast as it had come. "I've had a lot of time to think about it."
"So... why'd you still open it, despite knowing that fate was nonsense?"
"That's what they always leave out of the story. They assume I didn't know what was in it."
===
She told me how she had started to wonder. After her conversation with Hephaestus, she knew that she could open it herself. But if Zeus had misled her about that, what else had he misled her about? So she left it for a day. And the day turned into a week. Which turned into two weeks.
Simply, she had started to wonder what was in it. And why it was so important to Zeus that it be opened. So she decided to find out before she opened it. So that she could better decide. She wanted to know, now that she knew she could decide, how to make the right choice.
She asked Epimetheus everything about it. Where it had come from. What he knew. But it seemed like all he knew about it was that his brother had given it to him for safe-keeping, and that he had told him in no uncertain terms that he must never allow it to be opened. Pandora began to realise that the one person who knew the answers was currently tied to a rock with an eagle eating his liver every day. Which was a bit of a problem. Nevertheless, she resolved to go and see him.
This part of the story was new to me. I had no idea that Pandora had ever spoken to Prometheus at all. And I certainly didn't know what he had told her.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"But you still opened it," I said.
She nodded. And changed the subject back again.
"But he understood. He knew how powerful it was. He knew that mortals having choice, free will, was necessary for us."
"You speak like you are one of them. Look what they've done with it!"
"Oh Athena! I know you're wise, but sometimes you're really dumb. They're flawed. Broken. They hurt and destroy and use their will for bad. Often. But they are also beautiful. And REAL in a way that you and I will never be. Because they have choice, and everything in their lives is affected by that."
"Sounds like you don't need me after all."
She grinned, a very unusual, room-lighting grin. "Hey, you came looking for me, remember." The grin faded, as fast as it had come. "I've had a lot of time to think about it."
"So... why'd you still open it, despite knowing that fate was nonsense?"
"That's what they always leave out of the story. They assume I didn't know what was in it."
===
She told me how she had started to wonder. After her conversation with Hephaestus, she knew that she could open it herself. But if Zeus had misled her about that, what else had he misled her about? So she left it for a day. And the day turned into a week. Which turned into two weeks.
Simply, she had started to wonder what was in it. And why it was so important to Zeus that it be opened. So she decided to find out before she opened it. So that she could better decide. She wanted to know, now that she knew she could decide, how to make the right choice.
She asked Epimetheus everything about it. Where it had come from. What he knew. But it seemed like all he knew about it was that his brother had given it to him for safe-keeping, and that he had told him in no uncertain terms that he must never allow it to be opened. Pandora began to realise that the one person who knew the answers was currently tied to a rock with an eagle eating his liver every day. Which was a bit of a problem. Nevertheless, she resolved to go and see him.
This part of the story was new to me. I had no idea that Pandora had ever spoken to Prometheus at all. And I certainly didn't know what he had told her.
Friday, 4 April 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 4)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It had all gone fairly smoothly, and according to plan. Epimetheus was smitten. But, as much as Pandora wheedled and begged for him to let her peak into the box, it wasn't happening. Epimetheus was smitten, yes, but he wasn't stupid. Prometheus had told him not to open it, and that was good enough for him. No matter how Pandora fluttered her eyelashes, or sulked or pouted, he wasn't budging.
It was just as she was getting disheartened and frustrated, and ready to give up that Hephaestus went to see her. He found her sitting in the castle gardens, looking particularly downhearted and lost.
"Hi, lass," he said.
She grunted a pre-occupied greeting.
"You look down."
She sighed. "I can't do it, Heph. He's not going to give in. And..."
He sat down beside her. "This is me. What's worrying you?"
"I'm just..."
She glanced involuntarily at the sky.
Hephaestus chuckled, deep and rolling. "Don't worry. He's busy. There's a nymph in Crete he's gone to visit. He's not paying attention."
"It's just that... I am not sure it's right." She looked across at him, her brow knit. "I feel like... I mean I know it's fate and everything. It was all explained. But.. I don't... feel good about it." She threw up her hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't explain."
"I know just what you mean."
"You do?"
He nodded. "But I can't explain it, either."
She raised an eyebrow (a habit which centuries would not overcome). "Can't, or won't?"
He sighed. "Not worth my job, kid. And, let's face it, no one else can do it." He smiled, trying to lighten the moment, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Heph. You... You're essentially my father. You owe it to me to help."
"Actually, I don't. But.. Look, it's something mortals have to figure out for themselves."
"But I'm not..."
"I know. Essentially you are not a mortal because you were never born. But you share their potentialities. Their possibilities. Even Zeus doesn't understand them all. But I do, because of... well, I guess because of the fire I made you from. So, in character, you are mortal enough."
"So... there is some potential I'm not using. Something which would enable me to get Epimetheus to open that blasted box?"
"Well, to get it open anyway. But it's more than just that."
"You're speaking in riddles, and I hate it. You gods! It's always these double meanings and roundabout ways of getting to things. After all, if Zeus wants the box open, why doesn't he just open it?"
"Why, indeed?"
she stopped suddenly. Looked at him with wide eyes. "He can't!"
Hephaestus said nothing.
"Am I right? He can't open it. I guess it has to be a mortal who opens it. That's why Epimetheus has to. That's why I can't just..."
She stopped as another wave of understanding hit her.
"But... I might be able to. You just said I was mortal in character. I've never tried because I was told to get him to do it. But why can't I just open it? I could stop manipulating Epimetheus, because believe me, I don't enjoy that. It would solve the problem, wouldn't it? The box would be open, Zeus would be pleased. No foul? Right?"
She paused as she noticed the look on his face. He was smiling, but something in his smile scared her. He looked so sad.
"What is it?"
"Well. Nothing you've said is wrong."
"But, you don't look happy. I thought you wanted it open? I thought it was a good thing."
"Why do you want it open, Pandora?"
"Well, because it's meant to be. I mean, Zeus said..."
Hephaestus snorted.
"What? He said it was part of the plan. That it needed to be opened, and I was to get Epimetheus to open it."
"That's it? Because Zeus says so?"
"Well, he is kinda the boss. Surely he knows what he's doing? And isn't it all fated anyway?"
"Firstly, it's quite an assumption to think he knows what he's doing. And secondly, if it's all so fated, why does he need you?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he clamped a hand over it convulsively. "I mean... um..."
But it was too late. Pandora's eyes were wide with understanding. When she spoke her voice had changed. It sounded less like a frustrated girl, and more like the strong, smart woman he had created.
"It isn't, is it? Fated. We have..."
There wasn't even a word for it back then in the mortal world. Fate was the-way-it-is. Hephaestus, figuring he'd done the damage with the concept already, gave her the word.
"Choice."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
It had all gone fairly smoothly, and according to plan. Epimetheus was smitten. But, as much as Pandora wheedled and begged for him to let her peak into the box, it wasn't happening. Epimetheus was smitten, yes, but he wasn't stupid. Prometheus had told him not to open it, and that was good enough for him. No matter how Pandora fluttered her eyelashes, or sulked or pouted, he wasn't budging.
It was just as she was getting disheartened and frustrated, and ready to give up that Hephaestus went to see her. He found her sitting in the castle gardens, looking particularly downhearted and lost.
"Hi, lass," he said.
She grunted a pre-occupied greeting.
"You look down."
She sighed. "I can't do it, Heph. He's not going to give in. And..."
He sat down beside her. "This is me. What's worrying you?"
"I'm just..."
She glanced involuntarily at the sky.
Hephaestus chuckled, deep and rolling. "Don't worry. He's busy. There's a nymph in Crete he's gone to visit. He's not paying attention."
"It's just that... I am not sure it's right." She looked across at him, her brow knit. "I feel like... I mean I know it's fate and everything. It was all explained. But.. I don't... feel good about it." She threw up her hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't explain."
"I know just what you mean."
"You do?"
He nodded. "But I can't explain it, either."
She raised an eyebrow (a habit which centuries would not overcome). "Can't, or won't?"
He sighed. "Not worth my job, kid. And, let's face it, no one else can do it." He smiled, trying to lighten the moment, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Heph. You... You're essentially my father. You owe it to me to help."
"Actually, I don't. But.. Look, it's something mortals have to figure out for themselves."
"But I'm not..."
"I know. Essentially you are not a mortal because you were never born. But you share their potentialities. Their possibilities. Even Zeus doesn't understand them all. But I do, because of... well, I guess because of the fire I made you from. So, in character, you are mortal enough."
"So... there is some potential I'm not using. Something which would enable me to get Epimetheus to open that blasted box?"
"Well, to get it open anyway. But it's more than just that."
"You're speaking in riddles, and I hate it. You gods! It's always these double meanings and roundabout ways of getting to things. After all, if Zeus wants the box open, why doesn't he just open it?"
"Why, indeed?"
she stopped suddenly. Looked at him with wide eyes. "He can't!"
Hephaestus said nothing.
"Am I right? He can't open it. I guess it has to be a mortal who opens it. That's why Epimetheus has to. That's why I can't just..."
She stopped as another wave of understanding hit her.
"But... I might be able to. You just said I was mortal in character. I've never tried because I was told to get him to do it. But why can't I just open it? I could stop manipulating Epimetheus, because believe me, I don't enjoy that. It would solve the problem, wouldn't it? The box would be open, Zeus would be pleased. No foul? Right?"
She paused as she noticed the look on his face. He was smiling, but something in his smile scared her. He looked so sad.
"What is it?"
"Well. Nothing you've said is wrong."
"But, you don't look happy. I thought you wanted it open? I thought it was a good thing."
"Why do you want it open, Pandora?"
"Well, because it's meant to be. I mean, Zeus said..."
Hephaestus snorted.
"What? He said it was part of the plan. That it needed to be opened, and I was to get Epimetheus to open it."
"That's it? Because Zeus says so?"
"Well, he is kinda the boss. Surely he knows what he's doing? And isn't it all fated anyway?"
"Firstly, it's quite an assumption to think he knows what he's doing. And secondly, if it's all so fated, why does he need you?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he clamped a hand over it convulsively. "I mean... um..."
But it was too late. Pandora's eyes were wide with understanding. When she spoke her voice had changed. It sounded less like a frustrated girl, and more like the strong, smart woman he had created.
"It isn't, is it? Fated. We have..."
There wasn't even a word for it back then in the mortal world. Fate was the-way-it-is. Hephaestus, figuring he'd done the damage with the concept already, gave her the word.
"Choice."
Thursday, 3 April 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 3)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask."
"Did you love him?"
She spluttered on her coffee. We were sitting in a small, rather sleazy looking cafe next to the docks where I'd found her. An overweight man in a wife-beater who looked like he'd stepped out of a stereotype had leered at her when she ordered for about half a second, until she'd given him a look that shut him up and sent him bustling to meet her every demand. He probably didn't know himself what it was about this girl that had him wanting to keep her happy. I was amused to see she wasn't above using the gifts we'd given to get her way.
"Love him?" She played with her unused sugar packets absently. "I don't know."
I waited.
"I don't think so. I couldn't have, right? I mean, in the end, I..."
She trailed off, frowning into her coffee.
"In the end you betrayed him."
She looked up, hurt and a little shocked. "I didn't mean..."
"That's what you were thinking though, wasn't it?"
She frowned slightly. "I just meant that I didn't have any choice. Back then. You need choice for love, don't you?"
I laughed. "Most mortals would disagree with you there."
"That's because they don't understand what not having choice is really like." A pause. Her voice almost inaudible, "But Hephaestus did."
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask."
"Did you love him?"
She spluttered on her coffee. We were sitting in a small, rather sleazy looking cafe next to the docks where I'd found her. An overweight man in a wife-beater who looked like he'd stepped out of a stereotype had leered at her when she ordered for about half a second, until she'd given him a look that shut him up and sent him bustling to meet her every demand. He probably didn't know himself what it was about this girl that had him wanting to keep her happy. I was amused to see she wasn't above using the gifts we'd given to get her way.
"Love him?" She played with her unused sugar packets absently. "I don't know."
I waited.
"I don't think so. I couldn't have, right? I mean, in the end, I..."
She trailed off, frowning into her coffee.
"In the end you betrayed him."
She looked up, hurt and a little shocked. "I didn't mean..."
"That's what you were thinking though, wasn't it?"
She frowned slightly. "I just meant that I didn't have any choice. Back then. You need choice for love, don't you?"
I laughed. "Most mortals would disagree with you there."
"That's because they don't understand what not having choice is really like." A pause. Her voice almost inaudible, "But Hephaestus did."
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 2)
===
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
In the stories they paint her as a wilful, bored wife. Or worse, an evil, deceitful woman: the progenitor of all the banes of mankind. Given to man as a gift with a sting by Zeus. Pandora. The first female. They tell her in whiny tones. "But I wanna seeeee."
It wasn't like that.
The gist is right. Hephaestus, at Zeus' command, designed her to open that box. He used her to trap them. Turned their betrayal to folly. But he designed her wrong. Sure, the result was essentially the same. But he had never expected her to have a will. A mind. And the ability to use it.
He certainly hadn't expected to like her so much.
When she appeared at his castle, Epimetheus was enthralled. Pandora was beautiful. She was, after all, designed that way. Beautiful and witty and completely engaging. She had been given gifts by several of the deities. Aphrodite had given her beauty, not to mention other skills. Artemis had gifted her with endurance. Apollo had sungs songs into her ears, gifting her with music. I, in absence of wisdom, which comes only with experience, gifted her with a quick mind and the urge to learn. But it was her designer, Hephaestus who ultimately gave her the greatest gift. Only that was where all the trouble started.
When she walked up those stairs towards Epimetheus, and looked into his eyes as she bowed, submissive, and yet completely in control, announced herself his by Zeus' command, something in him broke. He wasn't stupid. Again, the legends paint him stupid. He wasn't. He knew she was a trap. He had heeded his brother's warnings and he knew that if Zeus had sent her, there was a catch. But looking into those smiling green eyes, he didn't care. Hephaestus had done his job well. Pandora was irresistable.
What people never bother to ask, is what she was thinking. She was formed, not born. She was given gifts by the gods to make her a more efficient trap. But Hephaestus loved her, like a father does. Which was what eventually led to him doing what he did. When she arrived there, she knew her task. She knew she was required to make Epimetheus open that box. She didn't know what was in it, and because she was new, she hadn't yet learned about Zeus' malicious angry streak, so it didn't occur to her to ask. She didn't yet know how vindictive he could be. Or how short-sighted.
I don't know why she did what she did. That was part of why I was here now. To find out her side of the story. And explain a little why we had all helped in the ways we did. Even the Goddess of Wisdom who, perhaps, should have known better.
Click here to start at the beginning.
===
In the stories they paint her as a wilful, bored wife. Or worse, an evil, deceitful woman: the progenitor of all the banes of mankind. Given to man as a gift with a sting by Zeus. Pandora. The first female. They tell her in whiny tones. "But I wanna seeeee."
It wasn't like that.
The gist is right. Hephaestus, at Zeus' command, designed her to open that box. He used her to trap them. Turned their betrayal to folly. But he designed her wrong. Sure, the result was essentially the same. But he had never expected her to have a will. A mind. And the ability to use it.
He certainly hadn't expected to like her so much.
When she appeared at his castle, Epimetheus was enthralled. Pandora was beautiful. She was, after all, designed that way. Beautiful and witty and completely engaging. She had been given gifts by several of the deities. Aphrodite had given her beauty, not to mention other skills. Artemis had gifted her with endurance. Apollo had sungs songs into her ears, gifting her with music. I, in absence of wisdom, which comes only with experience, gifted her with a quick mind and the urge to learn. But it was her designer, Hephaestus who ultimately gave her the greatest gift. Only that was where all the trouble started.
When she walked up those stairs towards Epimetheus, and looked into his eyes as she bowed, submissive, and yet completely in control, announced herself his by Zeus' command, something in him broke. He wasn't stupid. Again, the legends paint him stupid. He wasn't. He knew she was a trap. He had heeded his brother's warnings and he knew that if Zeus had sent her, there was a catch. But looking into those smiling green eyes, he didn't care. Hephaestus had done his job well. Pandora was irresistable.
What people never bother to ask, is what she was thinking. She was formed, not born. She was given gifts by the gods to make her a more efficient trap. But Hephaestus loved her, like a father does. Which was what eventually led to him doing what he did. When she arrived there, she knew her task. She knew she was required to make Epimetheus open that box. She didn't know what was in it, and because she was new, she hadn't yet learned about Zeus' malicious angry streak, so it didn't occur to her to ask. She didn't yet know how vindictive he could be. Or how short-sighted.
I don't know why she did what she did. That was part of why I was here now. To find out her side of the story. And explain a little why we had all helped in the ways we did. Even the Goddess of Wisdom who, perhaps, should have known better.
Monday, 31 March 2008
Pandora's Gift (Part 1)
"I thought I might find you here."
The girl turned, suspicious. I smiled, trying to waylay her fears, but she didn't relax at all. I sighed, inwardly. This may not be as easy as I'd hoped.
She looked younger than I knew she was, looked no more than in her mid 20s. Dyed black hair pulled back in a clip, clumsily. A Sandman t-shirt and jeans. An old scuffed pair of doc martins.
"Well, you look the part, anyway," I said.
She raised an eyebrow. "What part is that?"
I ignored her question, and took a seat next to her on the dock. She had been looking out over the harbour, something I had learnt she did often these days. Our grapevine is extensive; if you really want to find one of us, you pretty much always can. Eventually. She had taken me a while though.
She was still looking at me, bemused. Her emerald eyes betrayed her age. Her real age, that is. I wondered how any human could look at her, and not feel the anger and guilt that hid behind them
"I've been looking for you."
She sighed. "OK. I'll play. Which one are you? You can't be Aphrodite, cos she's always... well.. pretty. I'm pretty sure you're not Artemis. You'd have found me faster. So, I ask myself. Which God goes in the guise of a bag lady?"
I chuckled. "The one who is most seldom recognised. And found in strange places. The one that would come to Pandora to help her 'learn her place'."
That eyebrow raise again.
"'Wisdom arises in the unexpected'."
"Ah." She looked out over the water again. "Tough gig."
"Do you think?"
"Not so much space for you in this day and age."
"There never was, dear. But I am not here for the mortals today."
"You're going to teach me my place. I got it. Curiousity killed the cat. Women can't be trusted. Believe me, I got the memo. Loud. And. Clear."
"But you didn't. And neither did many of the mortals who tell your story."
She mumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?"
She looked straight into my eyes.
"I said, They never get it right, anyway."
**Thus begins the second story of my little Greek Myth project. I hope you enjoy this one as much as many of you seemed to have enjoyed the last. I have decided, for now, to keep things simple. For each donation I recieve, I will post a poem dedicated to the sponsor (it will be person appropriate depending on how well I know the person). Also, all sponsors are able to suggest a myth they'd like to see me write about, if they want to. (To the one person who has sponsored already: feel free to do this whenever and if you wish.) Also, I present an option to sponsors that I will place a links bar on the sidebar of this blog with your name (if you want), and a link to your (or any other you wish) website. Again, to the person who sponsored last week, let me know if you want to use this. Otherwise, I have started the third story, and am well into it. But for now, enjoy Pandora. :) **
The girl turned, suspicious. I smiled, trying to waylay her fears, but she didn't relax at all. I sighed, inwardly. This may not be as easy as I'd hoped.
She looked younger than I knew she was, looked no more than in her mid 20s. Dyed black hair pulled back in a clip, clumsily. A Sandman t-shirt and jeans. An old scuffed pair of doc martins.
"Well, you look the part, anyway," I said.
She raised an eyebrow. "What part is that?"
I ignored her question, and took a seat next to her on the dock. She had been looking out over the harbour, something I had learnt she did often these days. Our grapevine is extensive; if you really want to find one of us, you pretty much always can. Eventually. She had taken me a while though.
She was still looking at me, bemused. Her emerald eyes betrayed her age. Her real age, that is. I wondered how any human could look at her, and not feel the anger and guilt that hid behind them
"I've been looking for you."
She sighed. "OK. I'll play. Which one are you? You can't be Aphrodite, cos she's always... well.. pretty. I'm pretty sure you're not Artemis. You'd have found me faster. So, I ask myself. Which God goes in the guise of a bag lady?"
I chuckled. "The one who is most seldom recognised. And found in strange places. The one that would come to Pandora to help her 'learn her place'."
That eyebrow raise again.
"'Wisdom arises in the unexpected'."
"Ah." She looked out over the water again. "Tough gig."
"Do you think?"
"Not so much space for you in this day and age."
"There never was, dear. But I am not here for the mortals today."
"You're going to teach me my place. I got it. Curiousity killed the cat. Women can't be trusted. Believe me, I got the memo. Loud. And. Clear."
"But you didn't. And neither did many of the mortals who tell your story."
She mumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?"
She looked straight into my eyes.
"I said, They never get it right, anyway."
**Thus begins the second story of my little Greek Myth project. I hope you enjoy this one as much as many of you seemed to have enjoyed the last. I have decided, for now, to keep things simple. For each donation I recieve, I will post a poem dedicated to the sponsor (it will be person appropriate depending on how well I know the person). Also, all sponsors are able to suggest a myth they'd like to see me write about, if they want to. (To the one person who has sponsored already: feel free to do this whenever and if you wish.) Also, I present an option to sponsors that I will place a links bar on the sidebar of this blog with your name (if you want), and a link to your (or any other you wish) website. Again, to the person who sponsored last week, let me know if you want to use this. Otherwise, I have started the third story, and am well into it. But for now, enjoy Pandora. :) **
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