SO I’m trying something NEW ~ I’ve invited my dear DEAR friend Ria Kealey to be the first ever GUEST WRITER !!! Ria and I have been discussing the myth of Medusa for many moons and with the release of Natalie Haynes’ Stone Blind it seemed timely as hell. Ria is one of the most brilliant creatures I know and more eloquent and articulate than I could ever hope to be (that’s not self-effacing bullshit by the way, they literally edited my thesis for me last year and also wrote a poem about Achilles and Patroclus for an event I hosted that had half the room in actual TEARS). A part of the brief I gave Ria was to write like we were discussing these ideas over a bottle (or 6) of wine in some dark cosy place (they’ve been cranking out piles of university essays so shifting to the tone of my remarkably chaotic newsletter was a bit of an ADJUSTMENT). Ria did exactly that, to the point where I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to interject / squeal as I was reading so I’ve added some of my own comments in BOLD.
Content warning: mention of sexual assault
You’ve probably seen some version of Medusa before. She’s literally iconic - you can find her face on shields, walls, paintings, and these days, Versace’s logo and a lot of tattoos (legit, she is EVERYWHERE). There’s even a specific word for depictions of her face - gorgoneion (this term typically refers to the very old school/extra monstrous depictions of medusa that was used for temple decoration). There’s a fair bit of controversy however over how to interpret her myth. Is it anti-feminist? Can it be re-interpreted for the Me-Too age? Is she a victim, a villain, a temptress, a monster?
The truth is, myths are fickle things (slippery little eels, the lot of them). They bend and evolve to fill new spaces and new eras. It’s part of their charm really, but it can make pinning down “truths” about our favourite mythological characters impossible. There’s issues of authorship and translation, and then you throw everybody’s subjective interpretation of stories into the mix and it gets even more difficult to pinpoint “original” myths.
Let’s return to Medusa. Her story isn’t set in stone (HA) - there are two main versions with quite different tales to tell. One was written by Hesiod, who was a Greek writing around 700 BCE, and the other Ovid, who was a Roman writing some 700+ years later. In Hesiod’s Theogony Medusa was the child of Phorcys and Ceto, two primordial sea gods. She and her two sisters, Sthenno and Euryale, were Gorgon sisters, female monsters with unspecified but deadly powers. Medusa was the only mortal among the Gorgon sisters, her sisters “were undying and grew not old.” (Hesiod, 279) “With her lay the Dark-haired One [Poseidon] in a soft meadow amid spring flowers. And when Perseus cut off her head, there sprang forth great Chrysaor and the horse Pegasus.” (Hesiod, 280-281)
To summarise Hesiod’s version: Medusa was born a monstrous Gorgon with two sisters, she had sex with Poseidon at some point, and when Perseus cut her head off it birthed Pegasus and Chrysaor, her children by Poseidon. Hesiod’s version of Medusa is not the beautiful snake-haired woman we know. The feminine or “Beautiful Medusa” didn’t really show up until at least the fifth century BCE. Hesiod’s Medusa might have looked something like this:
Teracotta stand, c.a 570 BCE, signed by Ergotimos (potter) and Kleitias (painter)
Ovid’s Medusa is a very different figure. No beard, no bulging eyes or gnashing teeth and tusks. In Metamorphoses, Medusa wasn’t born as a gorgon. She was an incredibly beautiful woman:
“She was once most beautiful, and the jealous aspiration of many suitors. Of all her beauties none was more admired than her hair…” (Ovid, Book IV)
She caught the eye of Neptune (the Roman name for Poseidon) and he “violated” her in the temple of Minerva (Athena). Minerva responded to the sacriligeous rape by punishing Medusa - “she changed the Gorgon’s hair to foul snakes” and cursed her with the ability to turn men to stone with her gaze. Later, Minerva gifts Perseus a mirrored shield to help him kill Medusa as one of his trials, and Minerva “wears the snakes, that she created, as a breastplate” “to terrify her enemies, numbing them with fear” (Ovid, Book IV). It’s worth noting that this story, from Medusa’s origin to death, is told by Perseus.
Ovid’s version of Medusa is the beautiful, snake-haired woman that we generally think of, usually shown as a disembodied and sometimes bloody head. This stunning bronze ornament from a chariot pole, dated to the 1st- 2nd century CE, is approximately contemporary with Ovid (and probably influenced by him).
Note the wings, and the fact that she still has human hair as well as snakes. The modern image of a gorgeous woman with snakes for hair is yet another different version. Ovid’s version of the myth is probably the more popular one today (though don’t hold me to that), probably because of his flair for the dramatic. But even though it’s the most popular, Ovid was a Roman. Can you really say his version of an originally Greek myth is the definitive one? Is the canonical version of a myth decided by popular vote? By longevity? Or are we expected to dig up some miraculous scroll that can function as the Bible of Classical mythology? Of course not. (God that would be a treat though, imagine how much nicer TikTok comment sections would be).
Why, then, are some people frustrated or disappointed by modern re-interpretations of the myth of Medusa? Let’s bring it back to tattoos. After the #MeToo movement exploded a few years back, Medusa tattoos have been used as a symbol of reclaiming selfhood after sexual assault, with the added benefit of being recognisable to other survivors. Have a look at Tiktok - #medusatattoo has over 500 million views, and most videos under it allude to this meaning. The draw to her imagery usually comes from one of two interpretations:
Medusa was a victim, someone who was wrongly punished for her rapist’s actions, whose story was then continually told by men. She is the embodiment of feminine rage and the subjugation of women under the patriarchy, so to use her image to represent being a survivor of sexual assault is to stand in solidarity with women of the past, present, and future suffering the same.
Minerva’s hands were tied by the kind of justice the gods expected, but she did not turn Medusa into a gorgon to punish her. Instead, it was a subtle way to protect her. No man could touch her again if her gaze turned them to stone, so the Medusa head is a symbol of female solidarity under the patriarchy.
Version 2 is not a historically-founded interpretation, especially considering Minerva’s later participation in Medusa’s death, but I don’t believe this makes it invalid. The thing is, Classical mythology is filled to the brim with misogyny. It can feel difficult to breathe, wading through story after story of murder and rape (I’m looking at you, Zeus). Considering that the ancients couldn’t keep their stories consistent over centuries, why should we be expected to subscribe to a misogynistic version of a myth instead of allowing it to evolve? (!!!!!!! EXACTLY.) Sure, it’s anachronistic to claim that this version is the “original story,” but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a beautiful way to keep the facts of Medusa’s origin the same, while reinterpreting what they mean. That’s what myths are for, after all - meaning-making. Deities and demi-gods are hyperbolic versions of humanity, beings so like us, but alien. Through them we explore our cultural values and fears in fantasy.
Whether the imagery of Medusa speaks to you because she is an emblematic victim of the patriarchy, symbol of female solidarity, a fascinating monster, or because gorgoneion have been used as powerful protective symbols for thousands of years, she remains potent, dynamic, and relevant.
This is the difficulty and joy of studying the classics - holding in one hand the values of the society that created those myths, holding your own in the other, and fighting the urge to let one bludgeon the other to death.
(Do you see what I mean about the damn ELOQUENCE???????)
References:
Hesiod. Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica. Translated by Hugh G. Evelyn-White, William Heinemann, 1914.
Ovid. Metamorphoses. Translated by A. S. Kline, University of Virginia, 2000.
https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/medu/hd_medu.htm
The hugest of thank-yous to my first ever guest writer ~ find Ria on Instagram here !! For those of you reading that are based in Melbourne Ria has a fabulous poetry evening coming up and I mayyyyyy be co-hosting one with them in December when I’m back in Australia so keep your eyes PEELED…
Also if you’re at all keen to write something for my newsletter please don’t hesitate to email or message me ~ I’d love to work on something together ! xxxxxxx