Myth
Medus, a man of what I could only describe as god-like stature, stood six foot five, his head covered in a mop of golden curls and carried a bronze bow that was slung across his back and what looked like a club in his left hand. He was the character mama had always described in her old wives tales about the great heroes of the past she used to tell me as a child. Years later, I’d realise her stories weren’t fables, but actual events that had transpired.
My mother was notorious for having a huge heart; she never put herself first when others were in need. My earliest memory was of her calling me down to start a fire for a woman she had met wandering around the village earlier. My mother had offered her shelter, but she only stayed a fortnight – her clearly distraught eyes were searching for something I only hoped she would find.
My mother’s kindness passed on to me, becoming both a burden and a blessing in one. I found him wandering around our sheep, his beauty striking me as if it were bolt of lightning, pulling me into the big blue waves of his eyes. Now, nine years later, I offer him the same kindness my mother had shown the woman.
I welcomed Medus into my home cautiously; I was still a young woman alone. As I set off warming some stew for the man, I asked of his strange name. His reply was that it was one of an ancestor.
Medus wolfed down the meat and gravy as if he were a rabid animal, it was gone as soon as it had appeared. When he reached up to use his wrist as a cloth, I noticed the mark on his burly forearm. He must’ve seen my curiosity for he simply said, empousa. He provided no explanation, but the foreign word sparked something in me. A few hours later, I would awake from my mother’s wisdom.
In the candlelight, I saw Medus sitting in front of the hearth, the fire casting shadows of his angular face along the walls.
“There was a time long ago where my ancestors did not have to hide who they truly were. Magical beings and humans once walked and lived with each other. Though we still exist, we are segregated even amongst ourselves, for our protection and for yours.”
I should have feared for my life, but my mother’s words echoed in my ears, urging me forwards toward him.
“I have been running for a long time now. They persecute me because I am not like you. They regard me as the other.
You’re very clever to have survived on your own for this long. The ancient Greeks had a word for that – polymetis. To have tricked the village into believing that you are not living on your own, a single unmarried woman is a feat in itself.
You asked about my name earlier. It is true, I am a descendant of the original Medus, son of Medea. Your hospitality has been appreciated but I fear the wolves are my trail and I must leave before daybreak. Your home has been a gentle reprieve on this journey home.”
Medus kept his word. There was no sign of him in the morning, and if it weren’t for the bleating sheep three days later, Medus and his tales would’ve seemed like nothing more than a fever dream.
Analysis
For my myth-making assignment I wanted to explain aetiologically the different and vast racial composition of the world. In my myth I wanted to use supernatural or ‘mythological’ examples of species to explain the composition of the world today. The human species is homogenous in the sense that anatomically we are all the same, but our species is heterogenous on the outside: we all come in various shapes, sizes, and colour, that account for one’s race. I wanted to apply this concept of “similar but different” in my myth, and the way I chose to do that is by having my main hero, Medus, be a descendant of a demi-god. Anatomically, he is the same as the human woman he stumbles across, but her race is human, where his is human and partial god (ie. mixed race), obviously having to have come from a god/demi-god (one type of race) and a human (a second type of race).
Additionally, throughout the entirety of the text, I have Medus mention other mythical creatures to account for multiple other races. Creatures such as the empousa or the werewolf are all human passing, but like Medus, they descend from something other than the human race. Medus himself is a descendant of Medea, and therefore he has access to magical powers, branding him as the “other”. The portion of my myth were Medus explains to the woman that once all races walked and lived among each other before they were segregated, is a callback to certain races in history having to hide themselves or pretend to pass as a different race in order to avoid persecution. This is what I envisioned Medus doing to an extent; though he is not of the human race completely, he is passing himself off as a human throughout his travels, so he is not recognized as an “other”. He also mentions implicitly that each race has gone into hiding, or has assimilated, in order to protect not only their own, but the human race as well.
Medus and the woman account for half of the “races” presented in this myth. Other than a witch/demi-god, and human, are mentions of empousa and werewolves. Empousa are shape-shifting chthonic deities that appear to Dionysus and Xanthias (Ar. Frogs. 292). Like Medus, it is possible for them “code switch” to look like a human but they are still a different race. Similarly, werewolves are descended from Lycaon of Arcadia, who was once human but a trick on Zeus caused him and his descendants to bear the curse of the wolf form (Ovid. Meta. 1.235-250), therefore creating a new race.
Throughout my myth I have included many allusions and references to other well-known myths, as well as concepts that uniquely characteristic to myth making. The first of my choices was to write the myth in a first-person perspective. Though it was less common to find myths not written from a third-person perspective, it was not entirely unheard of to hear first-hand accounts of heroes writing their own history into myths. First-person perspective was often employed by bards and poets, an example being Odysseus narrating his own travels to the Phaeacians in Book 9 of Homer’s Odyssey.
The first sentence of the myth is my human’s character’s first impression of Medus – she says he is of “god-like stature” and carries a bow and a club. Heroes were often regarded as beautiful and ethereal figures in mythology because of their godly parentage, for example, in the Iliad, the great hero Achilles, was described with these ‘god-like’ features of beauty, strength and power. In regard to Medus’ choice of weapons, the bow is a callback to the “bearer of the bow”, (HH.3c) an epithet to Apollo, god of archery. Additionally, Heracles’ weapon of choice and an identifier of the hero was his club in his left hand.
The second important mythological concept I included is the theme of xenia. Examples of xenia in my myth are when the woman’s mother accepted a wandering, distraught stranger into her house, and later again when the woman herself accepted Medus just as her mother had. The first example is in reference to the myth of Demeter and Persephone in Hymn to Demeter. I specifically used the word “wandering” in my myth to draw a parallel to Demeter’s wanderings all over the earth in search of an abducted Persephone. Disguised as an old woman, Demeter is offered shelter from Celeus and Metaneira (HH2bc). Similarly, the second example of xenia is when Medus is welcomed into the house. Though he is not under disguise as Demeter, it is alike to the xenia showed by Eumaeus to Odysseus upon his return to Ithaca (Hom.Od.15.301-324). In all four examples, all characters embrace and demonstrate the core concepts of xenia by offering welcome and guest friendship to strangers in need.
In many ways, I have modeled Medus after the great heroes Odysseus and Achilles as the next concept is nostos. These two heroes have vastly different homecomings, the former receives his after many trials and tribulations, the latter chooses his glory over returning home. Very implicitly, I mention the idea of nostos when Medus tells the human woman that “her home has been a much-needed reprieve on his journey home”, with emphasis on the word journey, as nostos is the journey to home.
Furthermore, while Medus was modeled after Odysseus and Achilles, the woman was inspired by the female characters who provide much needed help along the heroic quests. The woman in my myth is sort of a Kalypso to Odysseus, her home the equivalent of an Ogygia (Hom.Od.5-6), or the Medea to Jason when she helped him acquire the golden fleece in Apollonius of Rhodes’ Argonautica. Additionally, the woman living by herself can be interpreted as her choosing her chastity over marriage, similar to the precedent of the vestal virgin goddess Artemis (HH27). Medus regards her ability to live and provide on her own as cleverness and wit, or polymetis (epithet of Odysseus) because she is able to survive far from the village as a single woman. Though she should be careful of accepting strangers into her house, the fact that she believes she can protect herself from danger, albeit not physically but mentally, is why I chose for Medus to refer to her as having the same quick wit as Odysseus when he defeated Polyphemus by using his wit over strength. (Hom.Od.9)
Moreover, in my myth there are words and sayings here and there that are more direct references to classical mythology. In my myth, I use the expression ‘striking me like a bolt of lightning’, alluding to the thunderbolt Zeus used in the Titanomachy (Hes. Theog. 692-4). The thunderbolt wields a striking amount of power, and the woman remarks that Medus’ beauty is just as powerful as a god’s weapon. In that same sentence, ‘pulling me into the big blue waves of his eyes’, is an allusion to the sirens. Medus’ eyes are as compelling as the sirens’ songs as they lure sailors to shore with their enchantments (Hom. Od. 12.39-40). His powerful beauty and blue eyes enchant the woman so she cannot look away (similar to being starstruck). The last allusion is to the hearth. In this parallel I invoked the goddess of the home and the hearth, Hestia. Her fire is the hope and “giver of all things good,” (HH29) so I wanted to add reference to her into my myth as a good omen for Medus. Hestia is also a patron of xenia and as the hearth is the centre of the home, this scene furthers the importance of hospitality and foreign friendships.
Lastly, the final allusion is somewhat of a stretch but I wanted to include the idea of divine intervention. A notable example of divine aid and advice comes from Athena on two occasions: the first, when she lends her strength to Diomedes in the Iliad (Hom.Il.5.124-5), and second, when she helps Odysseus with Penelope’s suitors in Book 22 of the Odyssey. Though a god does not speak to the woman, she is compelled by her late mother’s words from the past and also, she feels as if her mother is advising her from beyond. I wanted the “echoes of her words” to mimic the pull and compulsion heroes feel when they receive divine counsel.
Bibliography
Allen Mendelbaum, trans. 1993. The Metamorphoses of Ovid. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
George Theodoridis, trans. 2008. Aristophanes, Frogs. Bacchistage.
Peter Green, trans. 2008. Argonautika by Apollonius Rhodes. Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Richmond Lattimore, trans. 2011 (1951). Homer, The Iliad of Homer. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Richmond Lattimore, trans. 2007 (1965). Homer, The Odyssey of Homer. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Sir James George Frazer, trans. 1921. Apollodorus, Apollodorus, The Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press
Stephen M. Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, and Stephen Brunet, trans. 2016. Hesiod, Theogony in Anthology of Classical Myth. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. pp.129-160
Stephen M. Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, and Stephen Brunet, trans. 2016. “To Apollo.” Homer, Homeric Hymns in Anthology of Classical Myth. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. pp. 180-6.
Stephen M. Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, and Stephen Brunet, trans. 2016. “To Demeter.” Homer, Homeric Hymns in Anthology of Classical Myth. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. pp. 169-178.
Stephen M. Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, and Stephen Brunet, trans. 2016. “To Hestia.” Homer, Homeric Hymns in Anthology of Classical Myth. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. pp. 208-9.
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