“The Story of of Cadmus” (lV) – Ovid
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Category: walking in beauty
December 20, 2020
“The Story of of Cadmus” (lll) – Ovid
“Cadmus Slays the Dragon“
Hendrick Goltzius
__________
And now the scorching sun was mounted high,
In all its lustre, to the noon-day sky;
When, anxious for his friends, and fill’d with cares,
To search the woods th’ impatient chief prepares.
th’ impatient chief, Cadmus, prince of
Tyre, had sen[t] his servants to a
neighb’ring grove / For living streams,
if you’ll remember, a sacrifice to Jove,
to thank that god for these new
dominions, their new home
A lion’s hide around his loins he wore,
The well poiz’d javelin to the field he bore,
Inur’d to blood; the far-destroying dart;
And, the best weapon, an undaunted heart.
Cadmus here is a precursor of the
mythologically later Heracles, or
Herakles, or Hercules in Latin, a
hero, which is to say descended
from the gods, in that latter’s case,
son of Jove / Zeus / Jupiter, the
very deity who’d just abducted
Europa, Cadmus‘ sister, mother
of all Europeans, divine or human
Soon as the youth approach’d the fatal place,
He saw his servants breathless on the grass;
breathless, not breathing,
deceased
The scaly foe amid their corps he view’d,
Basking at ease, and feasting in their blood.
The scaly foe, the dragon
corps, corpses
“Such friends,” he cries, “deserv’d a longer date;
a longer date, a longer life, a more
extended period of existence
But Cadmus will revenge or share their fate.”
either [t]he scaly foe will die, the
dragon, or Cadmus himself, in the
attempt to avenge his friends, his
servants breathless on the grass,
he promises
Then heav’d a stone, and rising to the throw,
He sent it in a whirlwind at the foe:
in a whirlwind, taking advantage
of a meteorological condition, as
one would a kite
A tow’r, assaulted by so rude a stroke,
With all its lofty battlements had shook;
a tower would’ve swayed at so
powerful a strike, I remember
an earthquake once rocking my
own high rise apartment building
for an unnerving moment before
settling, returning the ground,
my ground, to its, otherwise
imperturbable, placidity
But nothing here th’ unwieldy rock avails,
Rebounding harmless from the plaited scales,
That, firmly join’d, preserv’d him from a wound,
With native armour crusted all around.
native, integral, a constituent
part of
With more success, the dart unerring flew,
the dart, the javelin
Which at his back the raging warriour threw;
the raging warriour, Cadmus
Amid the plaited scales it took its course,
And in the spinal marrow spent its force.
The monster hiss’d aloud, and rag’d in vain,
And writh’d his body to and fro with pain;
He bit the dart, and wrench’d the wood away;
The point still buried in the marrow lay.
And now his rage, increasing with his pain,
Reddens his eyes, and beats in ev’ry vein;
Churn’d in his teeth the foamy venom rose,
Whilst from his mouth a blast of vapours flows,
Such as th’ infernal Stygian waters cast.
Stygian, of the River Styx, which
forms the boundary between the
Earth and the Underworld, named
after the Goddess Styx, daughter
of Tethys and Oceanus, god, and
river also, which encircled the
entire world
The plants around him wither in the blast.
Now in a maze of rings he lies enrowl’d,
enrowl’d, encircled, surrounded
Now all unravel’d, and without a fold;
without a fold, without a hitch, without
an intervening obstacle
Now, like a torrent, with a mighty force
Bears down the forest in his boist’rous course.
Bears down the forest, advances,
like a torrent, against the wall of
trees
Cadmus gave back, and on the lion’s spoil
Sustain’d the shock, then forc’d him to recoil;
gave back, drew back, backed
away, forc’d … to recoil
the lion’s spoil, the dragon’s
venom and its gore
The pointed jav’lin warded off his rage:
the dragon readies for the onslaught,
overcoming his, otherwise consuming
rage, at the sight of [t]he pointed jav’lin
Mad with his pains, and furious to engage,
The serpent champs the steel, and bites the spear,
Till blood and venom all the point besmear.
But still the hurt he yet receiv’d was slight;
For, whilst the champion with redoubled might
Strikes home the jav’lin, his retiring foe
Shrinks from the wound, and disappoints the blow.
the jav’lin is still no match for the,
however wounded, dragon
The dauntless heroe still pursues his stroke,
And presses forward, ’till a knotty oak
Retards his foe, and stops him in the rear;
retards, stops, inhibits
Full in his throat he plung’d the fatal spear,
That in th’ extended neck a passage found,
And pierc’d the solid timber through the wound.
the fatal spear has pierc’d not
only th’ extended neck, but also
the knotty oak behind it, which
had prevented the dragon from
moving onward toward his
escape
Fix’d to the reeling trunk, with many a stroke
Of his huge tail he lash’d the sturdy oak;
‘Till spent with toil, and lab’ring hard for breath,
He now lay twisting in the pangs of death.
ding dong, the dragon is, if not
dead, dying
stay tuned
R ! chard
December 10, 2020
“The Story of of Cadmus” (ll) – Ovid
“St. George and the Dragon” (c.1470)
Paolo Uccello
_______
Cadmus salutes the soil, and gladly hails
The new-found mountains, and the nameless vales,
And thanks the Gods, and turns about his eye
To see his new dominions round him lye;
Cadmus, son of Agenor, brother of
Europa, has, on the advice of the
Delphick oracles, settled where
the lonely cow, / Unworn with yokes,
unbroken to the plow had stoop’d,
and couch’d amid the rising grass,
and stakes there his new appointed
home
vales, valleys
Then sends his servants to a neighb’ring grove
For living streams, a sacrifice to Jove.
Cadmus, a prince, would’ve had
a retinue, followers, Hamlet for
instance, his Horatio, his
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Jove, note, is the god who abducted
Europa, though Cadmus, according
to our story, isn’t yet supposed to
know this, never having found his
sister, nor identified, consequently,
her ravisher, namely Jove, the god
to whom Cadmus is now about to
give sacrifice, give thanks
O’er the wide plain there rose a shady wood
Of aged trees; in its dark bosom stood
A bushy thicket, pathless and unworn,
O’er-run with brambles, and perplex’d with thorn:
perplex’d, a wonderful metaphor
here for entangled, enmeshed
Amidst the brake a hollow den was found,
With rocks and shelving arches vaulted round.
brake, bracken, brush
Deep in the dreary den, conceal’d from day,
Sacred to Mars, a mighty dragon lay,
Mars, god of War
a mighty dragon, dragons, it appears,
go back to very prehistory, perhaps
as a memory in our reptilian brain of
dinosaurs, and the like, that made its
way into our poetic imagination
see above
Bloated with poison to a monstrous size;
Fire broke in flashes when he glanc’d his eyes:
glanc’d his eyes, threw glances at
His tow’ring crest was glorious to behold,
crest, as in roosters, or reptiles
His shoulders and his sides were scal’d with gold;
scal’d, having scales, plates,
overlapping surfaces
Three tongues he brandish’d when he charg’d his foes;
His teeth stood jaggy in three dreadful rowes.
rowes, rows, three dreadful ones,
one behind the other
The Tyrians in the den for water sought,
The Tyrians, Cadmus and his men,
all originally from Tyre
And with their urns explor’d the hollow vault:
urns, to collect from living streams
within the vault a sacrifice to Jove
From side to side their empty urns rebound,
rebound, knock against a harder
surface repeatedly
And rowse the sleeping serpent with the sound.
rowse, rouse
Strait he bestirs him, and is seen to rise;
he bestirs him, he bestirs himself
And now with dreadful hissings fills the skies,
And darts his forky tongues, and rowles his glaring eyes.
rowles, rolls
The Tyrians drop their vessels in the fright,
vessels, urns
All pale and trembling at the hideous sight.
Spire above spire uprear’d in air he stood,
Spire above spire, scale upon scale
uprear’d, reared up
he, the serpent
And gazing round him over-look’d the wood:
overlook’d, looked over, surveyed
Then floating on the ground in circles rowl’d;
rowl’d, rolled
Then leap’d upon them in a mighty fold.
fold, embrace, encirclement
Of such a bulk, and such a monstrous size
The serpent in the polar circle lyes,
That stretches over half the northern skies.
The serpent in the polar circle, Serpens,
a constellation in the Northern Hemisphere
in close proximity to the North Pole
lyes, lies
In vain the Tyrians on their arms rely,
their arms, their weapons
In vain attempt to fight, in vain to fly:
All their endeavours and their hopes are vain;
Some die entangled in the winding train;
the winding train, the serpent’s
tail
Some are devour’d, or feel a loathsom death,
Swoln up with blasts of pestilential breath.
stay tuned
R ! chard
November 30, 2020
“The Story of of Cadmus” – Ovid
“Lying Cow” (1883)
Vincent van Gogh
______
When now Agenor had his daughter lost,
Europa, his daughter lost
He sent his son to search on ev’ry coast;
his son, Agenor’s son, Cadmus,
Europa’s brother
And sternly bid him to his arms restore
The darling maid, or see his face no more,
But live an exile in a foreign clime;
Thus was the father pious to a crime.
pious to a crime, intent on, devoted to,
having justice restored
The restless youth search’d all the world around;
But how can Jove in his amours be found?
amours, loves, trysts, entanglements
When, tir’d at length with unsuccessful toil,
To shun his angry sire and native soil,
his angry sire, Agenor, father, sire
He goes a suppliant to the Delphick dome;
suppliant, supplicant, petitioner,
one in search of a favour
Delphick dome, the Temple of Apollo
at Delphi, where the oracle, Pythia,
proclaimed her cryptic prognostications,
her famously ambiguous prophecies
Delphi, incidentally, was one of several
sacred sites in Greece, sanctuaries,
open to any Greek, or person who
could speak Greek, regardless of
geographical provenance, any
city-state, for instance then, or
kingdom, akin to embassies today,
or places where people can expect
to find similar political haven
Delphi was the destination then also of
pilgrimages, comparable to our own
Santiago de Compostela today, an
ancient path I dearly would’ve, but
never have, unfortunately, undertaken
though I did walk to Mission B.C. some
several years ago, from my home in
Vancouver, to a monastery there, a
place of recuperation when I needed
one, three days there, and a half, three
days and an equal half back, my feet
were blistered, I noticed at one point,
but hadn’t at all registered any pain,
a truth I gathered about the power of
intention, one’s very aim can be a
salve, a balm, a solace, against any
adversity
but back to Cadmus
There asks the God what new appointed home
Should end his wand’rings, and his toils relieve.
where do I land, asks Cadmus,where
is my appointed home, my final
destination
The Delphick oracles this answer give.
The Delphick oracles, subordinates
to Pythia, the high priestess at Delphi
“Behold among the fields a lonely cow,
Unworn with yokes, unbroken to the plow;
Mark well the place where first she lays her down,
There measure out thy walls, and build thy town,
And from thy guide Boeotia call the land,
In which the destin’d walls and town shall stand.”
Boeotia, a region still of Greece
No sooner had he left the dark abode,
Big with the promise of the Delphick God,
the Delphick God, Apollo, god of
music, dance, truth, prophecy,
healing, the sun, light, poetry,
among many other things
When in the fields the fatal cow he view’d,
Nor gall’d with yokes, nor worn with servitude:
fatal, fateful
gall’d, irritated, frustrated
Her gently at a distance he pursu’d;
And as he walk’d aloof, in silence pray’d
To the great Pow’r whose counsels he obey’d.
the great Pow’r, Apollo, by way of his
Delphick oracles,the high priestesses,
through their counsel, their divinations
Her way thro’ flow’ry Panope she took,
Panope, plural, were sea nymphs, not
places, in Ancient Greece, therefore
Cadmus must’ve been crossing water,
however flow’ry, I’ll have to check my
Latin text for, maybe, inaccuracies in
the translation
And now, Cephisus, cross’d thy silver brook;
Cephisus, or Cephissus, a river in Boeotia,
a brook, a stream, anthropomorphized here,
which is to say Cephissus, the flow, the
waterway, is being addressed as a rational
being, I have cross’d thy silver brook, he
says, speaking to the torrent
meanwhile, to brook, to conquer, to
overcome, a wonderful, a shimmering,
literarily speaking, homonym, which is
to say, a word with two faces
When to the Heav’ns her spacious front she rais’d,
And bellow’d thrice, then backward turning gaz’d
On those behind, ’till on the destin’d place
She stoop’d, and couch’d amid the rising grass.
she, the fatal cow, see above, has led
Cadmus to his famed, his mythic,
destination, destin’d place, destiny
stay tuned
R ! chard
November 22, 2020
“Europa’s Rape” (ll) – Ovid
“The Rape of Europa” (c.1732 – 1734)
François Boucher
___________
Agenor’s royal daughter, as she plaid
Among the fields, the milk-white bull survey’d,
Agenor, king of Tyre, in Phoenicia,
an area comprised then of ancient
Lebanon, as well as a good part of
the Eastern, and later, the Southern,
which is to say the African,
Mediterranean coasts, father of,
notably, Europa, his royal, his
indeed mythic, daughter
And view’d his spotless body with delight,
And at a distance kept him in her sight.
Europa is intrigued, delight[ed], by this
milk-white …spotless …bull, but from
a distance, discreetly, furtively
At length she pluck’d the rising flow’rs, and fed
The gentle beast, and fondly stroak’d his head.
pluck’d, dared, mischievously, to
confront
the rising flowers, offering [their] cup
to the sun
He stood well-pleas’d to touch the charming fair,
But hardly could confine his pleasure there.
And now he wantons o’er the neighb’ring strand,
Now rowls his body on the yellow sand;
to wanton, to play, to frolic, often
immodestly, like puppies, goats
strand, shore
rowls, rolls
And, now perceiving all her fears decay’d,
decay’d, dispelled, dissipated,
evaporated
Comes tossing forward to the royal maid;
Gives her his breast to stroke, and downward turns
His grizly brow, and gently stoops his horns.
grizly, grizzly, grayish
In flow’ry wreaths the royal virgin drest
drest, adorned
His bending horns, and kindly clapt his breast.
‘Till now grown wanton and devoid of fear,
Not knowing that she prest the Thunderer,
the Thunderer, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus
She plac’d her self upon his back, and rode
O’er fields and meadows, seated on the God.
however heedlessly, however
immoderately, immodestly,
however innocently
see above
He gently march’d along, and by degrees
Left the dry meadow, and approach’d the seas;
Where now he dips his hoofs and wets his thighs,
Now plunges in, and carries off the prize.
The frighted nymph looks backward on the shoar,
shoar, shore
And hears the tumbling billows round her roar;
But still she holds him fast: one hand is born
born, borne, held
Upon his back; the other grasps a horn:
Her train of ruffling garments flies behind,
Swells in the air, and hovers in the wind.
see here also for a more windswept
picture of Europa, more in keeping
with the last few lines
Through storms and tempests he the virgin bore,
And lands her safe on the Dictean shore;
Dictean, of Dicte, or Dikti, a mountain
range in Eastern Crete, site of the
Diktaion Antron, or Dictaean Cave,
the place where Jove / Jupiter / Zeus
was apparently born, if it wasn’t the
Idaean Cave, which is to say a cave on
Mount Ida, therefore Idaean, also in
Crete, both hollows having claimed
the right to be called the site of the
exalted provenance
Where now, in his divinest form array’d,
In his true shape he captivates the maid;
Jove / Jupiter / Zeus manifest, no
longer bull, but divinity, dripping
still in bovine potency, however
residual
Who gazes on him, and with wond’ring eyes
Beholds the new majestick figure rise,
His glowing features, and celestial light,
And all the God discover’d to her sight.
once, to a man who’d bewitched me,
how could you touch me, I wrote, you
must’ve known you would transfix me,
leave me breathless, which he,
however inadvertently, had, did
I went on, of course, to not populate
continents, nor to become queen of
Crete, but was Europa, in that
instance, before my own exalted
entity
R ! chard
November 15, 2020
“Europa’s Rape” – Ovid
“Bulls” (1948)
Bertalan Por
____
though I’d heard, indeed, of the rape of
Europa, I wasn’t aware, I’d thought, of
the details, was loathe, therefore, to
read on, in the next segment of Ovid’s
Metamorphoses, having been earlier
put off by such incidents in that text
as it turned out, Europa isn’t raped,
but, rather, abducted, more or less
willingly, however innocently, by
Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, and will even,
later, consensually, bear his children
who will then migrate, from their base
in Crete, to populate, to people, the
continent which we’ll come to know
as Europe, after their mum
but that’s a whole other story
meanwhile
When now the God his fury had allay’d,
And taken vengeance of the stubborn maid,
From where the bright Athenian turrets rise
He mounts aloft, and re-ascends the skies.
the God, Hermes / Mercury, if you’ll
remember, had just transformed
Aglauros, the stubborn maid, into a
statue for having been impudent
with him, and mounts aloft now,
re-ascends the skies over Athens,
where the damsel had lived
Jove saw him enter the sublime abodes,
the sublime abodes, Olympus,
home of the gods
And, as he mix’d among the crowd of Gods,
Beckon’d him out, and drew him from the rest,
And in soft whispers thus his will exprest.
Jove / Jupiter / Zeus wants something
from Hermes / Mercury
“My trusty Hermes, by whose ready aid
Thy sire’s commands are through the world convey’d.
sire, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus is the father
of Hermes / Mercury, his sire
Hermes / Mercury, the messenger god,
patron of travellers, heralds, newscasters,
those who convey information
through[out] the world
Resume thy wings, exert their utmost force,
And to the walls of Sidon speed thy course;
Sidon, a city still in Lebanon
There find a herd of heifers wand’ring o’er
The neighb’ring hill, and drive ’em to the shore.”
Thus spoke the God, concealing his intent.
Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, the God, has
an ulterior motive, a conceal[ed] …
intent
The trusty Hermes, on his message went,
And found the herd of heifers wand’ring o’er
A neighb’ring hill, and drove ’em to the shore;
mission accomplished
Where the king’s daughter, with a lovely train
Of fellow-nymphs, was sporting on the plain.
the conceal[ed] …intent is exposed,
Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, in character,
is on the prowl
The dignity of empire laid aside,
(For love but ill agrees with kingly pride)
power, empire, will not abide being
deprived, we’ve seen ample examples
of that in our, even most recent, past
The ruler of the skies, the thund’ring God,
Who shakes the world’s foundations with a nod,
Jove / Jupiter, Zeus, god, remember,
of Thunder
Among a herd of lowing heifers ran,
Frisk’d in a bull, and bellow’d o’er the plain.
Frisk’d, accoutered, dressed up as,
in the guise of, a bull
Large rowles of fat about his shoulders clung,
rowles, rolls
And from his neck the double dewlap hung.
dewlap, a looseflap of skin hanging
from the throat of some animals, or
birds, cattle, for instance, turkeys,
a wattle
His skin was whiter than the snow
see above
that lies
Unsully’d by the breath of southern skies;
a breath of southern skies would
melt away white snow, revealing,
fatefully, ignominiously, patches
of [ ]sully’d earth
Small shining horns on his curl’d forehead stand,
As turn’d and polish’d by the work-man’s hand;
His eye-balls rowl’d, not formidably bright,
rowl’d, rolled
But gaz’d and languish’d with a gentle light.
as in doe eyes
His ev’ry look was peaceful, and exprest
The softness of the lover in the beast.
a wolf, if here a bull, in
sheep’s clothing
stay tuned
R ! chard
November 2, 2020
my 10 best films – “Copenhagen”
______________
yesterday – a Sunday afternoon, much
like Sundays the way they were
supposed to be, gracious, cordial, if
somewhat reverent, but, especially,
and quite specifically, as specified in
its prevailing Good Book then, restful
– a friend and I watched a second of
my ten favourite movies
Copenhagen, a three-character play
that had won the Tony in 2000, had
been made into a film a couple of
years later, with Daniel Craig, no
less than Daniel Craig, yes, that
Daniel Craig, if you’ll pardon my
gushing, the most recent, and
therefore ,to my mind, nearly
definitive James Bond, with a
couple of other less well known,
though supremely capable,
performers
Daniel Craig is Werner Heisenberg,
the German physicist who’d studied
with Niels Bohr, his Danish tutor,
both becoming, individually, great
names in the history of 20th-Century
nuclear physics, right up there with
Einstein and Oppenheimer
the year is 1941, Denmark is
occupied, Heisenberg, though
earlier a beloved student, is
now a political enemy, of his
earlier mentor, Niels Bohr
conflicting, apparently, ideologies,
incompatible, clashing, loyalties,
fell even apparently indissoluble
intimacies
it is allowed by the German High
Command that Heisenberg visit
Bohr in Copenhagen, at his home,
to, perhaps, glean information
about the atom bomb, its
composition
Heisenberg, if not necessarily
coerced, is, however informally,
tasked with getting whatever
relevant information from Bohr,
who is not directly involved with
either the German or American
pursuits, his interest is essentially
theoretical, to the extent that he
can maintain that pose despite
intense international pressure
they meet, they met, an actual
historical event, Michael Frayn
the playwright, imagines their
meeting, which has never been
recorded, the play is a work of
the imagination, but of an
imagination of the very highest
order, and philosophical insight
Schubert provides most of the
music, sets the tone for the
film, the much more refined
atmosphere of polished Europe,
the Europe we look toward, like
Romans looked toward Athens,
for their moral and aesthetic
pre-eminence, a Europe that
profoundly reverberates still in
our, however globalized,
collectivity
listen
try hard to see the movie
R ! chard
November 2, 2020
“The Story of Aglauros, transform’d into a Statue” (lV) – Ovid
“Statue in the Park of Versailles“
Giovanni Boldini
________
Envy, at the instigation of Minerva,
has flown towards the site of her
commissioned mischief, to hex
Aglauros, who’s miffed her
When Athens she beheld, for arts renown’d,
With peace made happy, and with plenty crown’d,
Athens, its glories, architectural,
literary, political, philosophical, would
have been impressive still, despite its
intervening decline, to the mind of a
Roman poet of the later First Century,
compare, say, a contemporary poet’s
evaluation of Great Britain’s grandeur
during its 19th Century supremacy, or
of the United States’ promise before
its late-20th-Century deterioration
Scarce could the hideous fiend from tears forbear,
To find out nothing that deserv’d a tear.
Envy, the hideous fiend, was upset
because she couldn’t find anything
to cry about, anything that deserv’d
a tear
Th’ apartment now she enter’d, where at rest
Aglauros lay, with gentle sleep opprest.
with gentle sleep opprest seems
to me oxymoronic, conflicting
definitions, how could a gentle
sleep oppress, but let’s continue
To execute Minerva’s dire command,
She stroak’d the virgin with her canker’d hand,
Then prickly thorns into her breast convey’d,
That stung to madness the devoted maid:
Her subtle venom still improves the smart,
improves the smart, accentuates
the sudden pain
Frets in the blood, and festers in the heart.
Frets in, unsettles, the blood, festers,
rots , becomes cankerous, in the heart.
To make the work more sure, a scene she drew,
And plac’d before the dreaming virgin’s view
Her sister’s marriage, and her glorious fate:
Th’ imaginary bride appears in state;
The bride-groom with unwonted beauty glows:
For envy magnifies what-e’er she shows.
Aglauros is not only struck with
subtle venom, but subjected to
psychological manipulation, if
you’ll excuse the reference to
modern analytical methods, is
made to see [h]er sister’s
marriage, Herse‘s, as well as
her glorious fate
For envy magnifies what-e’er
she shows, an observation
worth remembering
Full of the dream, Aglauros pin’d away
In tears all night, in darkness all the day;
the dream, though Envy might’ve
envenomed Aglauros in her sleep,
the unwanted vision continues to
plague her throughout the following
days, and nights
Consum’d like ice, that just begins to run,
When feebly smitten by the distant sun;
Or like unwholsome weeds, that set on fire
Are slowly wasted, and in smoke expire.
the slow torture in the mind of
rancour there eating away at
the psyche
Giv’n up to envy (for in ev’ry thought
The thorns, the venom, and the vision wrought)
The thorns, the venom, and the vision,
all three, wrought, writhing, smouldering,
in ev’ry thought
Oft did she call on death, as oft decreed,
decreed, resolved
Rather than see her sister’s wish succeed,
To tell her awfull father what had past:
her awfull father, Cecrops l, founder
and first king of Athens, according to
myth
awfull, as in inspiring awe, reverence
At length before the door her self she cast;
the door, of her chamber, where the
God Hermes / Mercury had asked
Aglauros to speak in his favour to
her sister, Herse, whom he had
wanted, if you’ll remember, to woo
cast, set herself up awaiting the
God’s return
And, sitting on the ground with sullen pride,
A passage to the love-sick God deny’d.
Aglauros denies the God his wish,
she will not praise him to her sister
The God caress’d, and for admission pray’d,
And sooth’d in softest words th’ envenom’d maid.
caress’d, used endearing words
In vain he sooth’d: “Begone!” the maid replies,
“Or here I keep my seat, and never rise.”
I’ll stay here till you leave, Aglauros
tells Hermes / Mercury
“Then keep thy seat for ever,” cries the God,
the impudence of vying with a god
has its consequences
And touch’d the door, wide op’ning to his rod.
his rod, his caduceus, his winged
staff
Fain would she rise, and stop him,
Fain,willingly
but she found
Her trunk too heavy to forsake the ground;
Her joynts are all benum’d, her hands are pale,
And marble now appears in ev’ry nail.
As when a cancer in the body feeds,
And gradual death from limb to limb proceeds;
So does the chilness to each vital parte
Spread by degrees, and creeps into her heart;
‘Till hard’ning ev’ry where, and speechless grown,
She sits unmov’d, and freezes to a stone.
Aglauros has become of stone,
a statue
But still her envious hue and sullen mien
Are in the sedentary figure seen.
still, though Aglauros might’ve been
rendered inanimate, it’s interesting
to note that she’s nevertheless
become immortal, immortalized
see, for instance, above
R ! chard
October 23, 2020
“The Story of Aglauros, transform’d into a Statue” (lll) – Ovid
“The Envious“
Gustave Doré
_______
all mythologies have their picture, their
rendition, their evocation of an afterlife,
states of either resignation, in earlier
traditions, perdition or bliss in the later
Christian view, manifest, these latter,
in Dante, his depictions of Hell,
Purgatory, and Heaven in his
Commedia, are probably its most
explicit evocations
the Greek and Roman pictures of
their own representative Underworld,
available in Homer, Horace, Virgil,
notably, is less compartmentalized,
less extreme in its divisions, a gloom
pervades, but nowhere fire and
brimstone, nor the diametrically
opposed consolation of archangels
and trumpets, only an unending
sense of desolation, be one worthy
of it or not
limbo comes to mind
but Envy’s realm is actual, not
belated, in the Ancient Greek and
Roman traditions, it is of this world,
present, however horrid, a place
that lurks in the hearts of men, of
people, always, ever, accessible
Dante situates his nexus of Envy in
Purgatory, the afterlife, the nether
world, its Second Circle, of seven,
Wrath, Envy, Pride, Lust, Gluttony,
Greed, Sloth
for Ovid, you can reach Envy’s
dominion, in the nearby mountainous
areas, if only you’ll follow Minerva
the one course is transcendental,
the other, organic, note, physical,
carnate
Directly to the cave her course she steer’d;
Against the gates her martial lance she rear’d;
The gates flew open, and the fiend appear’d.
the fiend, Envy herself
A pois’nous morsel in her teeth she chew’d,
And gorg’d the flesh of vipers for her food.
yech
Minerva loathing turn’d away her eye;
as, incontrovertibly, would I
The hideous monster, rising heavily,
Came stalking forward with a sullen pace,
And left her mangled offals on the place.
Soon as she saw the goddess gay and bright,
She fetch’d a groan at such a chearful sight.
Livid and meagre were her looks, her eye
In foul distorted glances turn’d awry;
A hoard of gall her inward parts possess’d,
And spread a greenness o’er her canker’d breast;
Her teeth were brown with rust, and from her tongue,
In dangling drops, the stringy poison hung.
She never smiles but when the wretched weep,
Nor lulls her malice with a moment’s sleep,
Restless in spite: while watchful to destroy,
She pines and sickens at another’s joy;
Foe to her self, distressing and distrest,
She bears her own tormentor in her breast.
the passage, without explication,
speaks for itself, I cede to its
manifest erudition
The Goddess gave (for she abhorr’d her sight)
her sight, what she was looking
upon
A short command: “To Athens speed thy flight;
On curst Aglauros try thy utmost art,
And fix thy rankest venoms in her heart.”
Minerva condemns, curs[es],
Aglauros
This said, her spear she push’d against the ground,
And mounting from it with an active bound,
Flew off to Heav’n:
Minerva reminds me of my own
generation’s Wonder Woman
meanwhile, the hag, Envy, with
eyes askew
Look’d up, and mutter’d curses as she flew;
For sore she fretted, and began to grieve
At the success which she her self must give.
success, the humiliation of
Aglauros
Then takes her staff, hung round with wreaths ofthorn,
And sails along, in a black whirlwind born,
the picture of a witch on a
broomstick shouldn’t
here be unanticipated
O’er fields and flow’ry meadows: where she steers
Her baneful course, a mighty blast appears,
Mildews and blights; the meadows are defac’d,
The fields, the flow’rs, and the whole years laidwaste:
the whole years, the yearly crops
On mortals next, and peopled towns she falls,
And breathes a burning plague among their walls.
the, not unfamiliar to us, season,
now, of the witch
R ! chard
October 18, 2020
my 10 best films – “Closer”
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