Today on a rare occasion, someone at work asked me something different – it was about my desktop wallpaper. It’s a painting by a guy named Gustave Moreau, a 19th century Frenchman. In 1865, he painted Orpheus, my favorite person from Greek mythology.
Now, I like myths. I think that they’re important for a society to have. There are bad myths, like Jews owning everything – that are perpetuated through the ages. There are “techno-myths,” like the big car companies are sitting on the technology to get 300 miles a gallon with internal combustion engines.
Orpheus was a musician who played the lyre and could play so beautifully the Gods would weep. He was part of Jason (and the Argonauts’) quest for the Golden Fleece. The Sirens (from the Odyssey) would sing and lure ships into the rocks to destroy them, and when the Argonauts heard the Siren’s Song, Orpheus pulled out his lyre and drowned out their inciting songs.
Later in life, Orpheus got married to a woman named Eurydice and was deeply in love with her. While running away from the son of Apollo, Eurydice was bitten by snakes and died. A distraught Orpheus played his lyre in mourning so sad and tragic that the Gods wept. The Gods told Orpheus that he should go to the Underworld and he encountered the King and Queen of the Underworld – Hades and Persephone. Persephone was sympathetic (for the first time ever), and told Orpheus that he could bring his beloved Eurydice back to life under one condition: he walks in front of her and doesn’t look back until they both reach Earth – the “upper world”. His anxiety got the best of him and at the gateway to “the upper world” he crossed through and turned around while she was still in the Underworld. Eurydice disappeared, this time forever.
The more observant readers of my blog (both of you) will realize I’ve mentioned “my Eurydice” before. It’s a good analogy. Sometimes circumstances present you with the most infinitesimal of odds and your anxiety will blow it, this time permanently. The lesson is clear: Don’t look back. Ever.
Orpheus died a rather interesting death. For the rest of his life, he gave up on love and took on lovers – along with forsaking all the Gods except the sun god. The Kikonian women got pissed off, and threw rocks and sticks at him. Orpheus, being the lyre master, played music so beautiful that the sticks and rocks refused to hit him. Naturally, the women got super pissed, and tore him to pieces. His head and lyre still kept singing as they floated down the river into the Mediterranean.
As much as my head knows the myth, the heart doesn’t. And it’s only a matter of time before women get pissed off at me and tear me to pieces despite my lyre skill.
Ah analogies – how I love thee.
Hmmmm…Can I be female and say I totally understand Orpheus? Stupid females that tore him to pieces. They should have just enjoyed whatever they got. :/