103 posts
As with most female horror fans, people love to ask me what it is I get out of horror. I give them the stock answers: catharsis, empowerment, escapism and so on. Less easy to explain is the fact that I gravitate toward films that devastate and unravel me completely – a good horror film will more often make me cry than make me shudder.
Kier-La Janisse, House of Psychotic Women
I’ve been listening to “Blood Moon” by Saint Sister a lot this season and it inspired this piece of a spooky Minoan Artemis dancing in the woods.
Grace Slick, formerly of Jefferson Airplane (and later Starship) who were one of Woodstock's monumental participants, has been involved in the visual arts scene lately in her life...
The Airplane, most notable for their psychedelic masterpiece 'White Rabbit', entwines the tale of Alice In Wonderland with lyrics advocating for the expansion of one's consciousness through hallucinogens as the ultimate solution; which, in opposition, dismisses the validity to the otherwise socially acceptable norm of the American pharmaceutical diet's true effectivity.
it's refreshing to see that, after many decades have passed, even though she chose to pursue a different artistic avenue than music—the thematics and probable integrity remain the very same.
included are just a few selections from her primary focal point, that eternal fascination with Wonderland; however, she has also paid homage to some of her fellow peers of the Revolution, by painting portraits of Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jerry Garcia, amongst many others.
AND IF we’re talking about Ovid’s take on the Persephone myth anyway, and the other story Ovid inserted, the comparison between the boy being turned into a lizard for laughing at Demeter and the Demophon myth are so different in every single aspect that I cannot fathom what the use of the second one is to the Persephone myth, only to Ovid’s overall themes. While Demophon is a temporary stand-in for Persephone and perhaps even a tool Demeter uses to one-up her brothers, and is a cultic display of her matronly side as a goddess, the lizard tale just…provides comedy? Characterizes her as petty or fickle? It really is the most derailing story line in this part of the text, as Demeter is searching before it and after it. It only provides the mandatory metamorphosis, but so does Cyane? And the fun part is that the episode reflects the Homeric hymn in that Demeter is received as a guest and receives a specific type of food tied to her role as goddess of the grain, but here it has absolutely no payoff, nor any ambiguity to make us guess at more. It just…is.
Thinking about how, to let the myth of Persephone fit the themes of the Metamorphoses, Ovid had to insert two rather unknown/unpopular side stories about a river nymph turning into water/liquid in her own stream, and a nymph giving Demeter the news, and how this affects the myth
Like for one the Metamorphoses in essence is caught up with the gods’ violence against lesser beings, mostly nymphs, women and mortals in general, and deals with the utter helplessness and loss of control these beings experience when they are transformed, as punishment or to escape a worse fate or simply because their suffering becomes too great for any mortal to bear. And here’s Persephone, a goddess and a rather major one, who by all means experiences the same type and amount of suffering. Ovid literally calls her a goddess on par with the other gods, and reasons this is why the six-month rule comes about. Where do you take that myth? The outcome is set in stone, her cyclical seasons-bound fate is so integral to the ancient cosmos, and yet it falls flat in a story like the metamorphoses, where the Olympian gods are usually on the other side of the fence. But here we have these two nymphs, who both experienced the violence done to Persephone and either give it a voice or dissolve into nothing, have their body and being entirely taken away from them.
So I really think Cyane and Arethusa are almost stand-ins for Persephone, where the the former gets the metamorphosis that symbolizes the pain and suffering that the abduction causes, as she literally dissolves into tears and cannot speak anymore when she manifests again, and Arethusa’s story of her own nearly successful abduction and subsequent exile/displacement give us Persephone’s side of the story, but in a less repetitive way than in the Homeric hymn.
What is your favorite obscure Greek mythological fact
Hm, probably the Orphic fragment that says that Persephone was born with a monstrous appearance (fragment 87 according to Athanassakis, fragment 58 in the translation of Otto Kern’s compilation of fragments at HellenicGods.org):
…"of the daughter of Zeus, whom he begat of his mother Rhea; or of Demeter, as having two eyes in the natural order, and two in her forehead, and the face of an animal on the back part of her neck, and as having also horns, so that Rhea, frightened at her monster of a child, fled from her, and did not give her the breast (θηλη), whence mystically she is called Athêlâ, but commonly Phersephoné and Koré"…
It's so totally different from all other versions that only describe her as very beautiful (as goddesses tend to be). Sometimes I regret that I didn't give my Persephone horns.
“The manifold self-contradictions in Greek ideas and phrasing about death are not errors. They are styles of imagining the unimaginable, and are responsive both to personal needs and to old conventions. The same conflicts surge up in many cultures. They are necessary ambiguities in a realm of thinking where thinking cannot really be done, and where there is no experience.”
— Emily Vermeule, “Immortals are Mortal, Mortals Immortal,” Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Poetry
“Dionysus is powerful because he is a god; but in myth, at least, the god conceals his divinity in order to impress his presence all the more forcefully on mortals. In his mythical epiphanies, he exercises his destructive power from a position of apparent weakness and inferiority… the punishment he inflicts is often indirect, deceptive and designed to hide his presence and downplay his power; unlike Apollo or Artemis, he does not kill his victims through direct divine intervention, but relies on those self-destructive drives within their human nature that case madness, self-mutilation or transformation.”
— Albert Henrichs, “He Has a God in Him”: Human and Divine in the Modern Perception of Dionysus
“Medea is very much concerned with the problem of woman’s place in human society […] Euripides is concerned in this play not with progress or reform but (as in the Hippolytus and the Bacchae) with the eruption in tragic violence of forces in human nature which have been repressed and scorned, which in their long-delayed breakout exact a monstrous revenge. The Medea is not about woman’s rights; it is about woman’s wrongs, those done to her and by her.”
— Knox, B. (1979). The Medea of Euripides, from Word and action: essays on the ancient theater. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, pp.295-322.
toni morrison, sula // stephanie peters, fire // seneca, medea (trans. a.j. boyle) // david mcconochie, medea // peter russell, night the first // stephanie peters, roaring flame // hozier, arsonist’s lullabye // jackson pollock, the flame
"'Will Not Let Die': Debilitation and Inhuman Biopolitics in Palestine" in The Right to Maim, Jasbir Puar
"'Will Not Let Die': Debilitation and Inhuman Biopolitics in Palestine" in The Right to Maim, Jasbir Puar
One of the oldest goddesses in the historical record is Inanna of Mesopotamia, who was referred to, among other honorifics, as “She who makes a woman into a man, she who makes a man into a woman.” The power to alter such fundamental categories was evidence of her divine power. Inanna was served by at least half a dozen different types of transgendered priests, and one of her festivals apparently included a public celebration in which men and women exchanged garments. The memory of a liminal third-gender status has been lost, not only in countries dominated by Christian ideology, but also in many circles dedicated to the modern revival of goddess worship. Images of the divine feminine tend to appear alone, in Dianic rites, surrounded only by other women, or the goddess is represented with a male consort, often one with horns and an erect phallus. But it is equally valid to see her as a fag hag and a tranny chaser, attended by men who have sex with other men and people who are, in modern terms, transgendered or intersexed.
— Speaking Sex to Power: The Politics of Queer Sex by Patrick Califia
The costume of Medea worn by Maria Callas in Pasolini’s Medea (1969).
merricat by angie hoffmeister / merricat by william teason
Image ID: An excepert, cut into two screenshots, from "The Archaeology of Caves in Ireland", by Marion Dowd, that reads:
DISAPPEARING UNDERGROUND
The idea that some ritual activities at caves involved people disappearing from view into darkness is powerful. In most cases only one individual or a small se- lect group could have entered caves at any one time. Thus the potentially public nature of early stages of some rituals, such as the entire community walking to a cave entrance, may have been juxtaposed by the secret activities that took place inside the cave involving just a few people. Witnessing this disappearance into darkness, and waiting for individuals to re-emerge, is likely to have been dramatic. The length of time spent inside a cave may have increased the feelings of anticipation, expectancy, anxiety, trepidation, fear or mystery experienced by those outside. People above ground were in the dark too. What was happening down there in the darkness? Who or what would be met in the cave? Why was the trip taking so long? Would s/he return? What would be the outcome?
These were religious and spiritual excursions into darkness that must have transformed those waiting outside but especially the person who had entered the cave. Such journeys may have conferred her/him with greater power, status, reverence or respect if caves were perceived as places of the Otherworld where it was possible to commune with the spirit world. Emerging from darkness and returning to the world of the living may have been seen as akin to a rebirth: emerging with new knowledge or insights, emerging as a new and transformed person.
/End ID
But our notebooks give us away, for however dutifully we record what we see around us, the common denominator of all we see is always, transparently, shamelessly, the implacable “I.” We are not talking here about the kind of notebook that is patently for public consumption, a structural conceit for binding together a series of graceful pensées; we are talking about something private, about bits of the mind’s string too short to use, an indiscriminate and erratic assemblage with meaning only for its maker. And sometimes even the maker has difficulty with the meaning.
Joan Didion, from On Keeping A Notebook in: Slouching Towards Bethlehem
Source: Redefining Ancient Orphism: A Study in Greek Religion by Radcliffe G. Edmonds
FASCINATING stuff where this scholar on orphism argues that several texts on persephone explicitly (and the homeric hymn implicitly) claim that mortals pay the recompense (ποινη) for the grief (πενθος) that persephone underwent at her abduction. not hades, but mortals try to appease the goddess for her mistreatment, and in return they earn her favour and a blessed afterlife (or even next life). there's this irreconcilable problem here in that hades was culturally justified, but persephone as a goddess still warrants respect/pity/appeasement, and so mortals through rites and sacrifices console her.
“The story of Hades and Persephone, frequently retold and referenced, became a motif for marrying death… In addition, wedding and funeral rites, in which women played a crucial role, had many similarities. The bride and corpse were washed, dressed, anointed, and either veiled (bride) or shrouded (corpse). Both journeyed to a new home, led by a procession of family and friends carrying torches, with song and dance, blessings, gifts, and a feast. Antigone makes those connections explicit in marrying Antigone to death in her last scene instead of to Kreon’s son, her betrothed.”
— Diane J. Rayor, excerpt from the “Introduction” to Antigone
Persephone and the Springtime was written by Margaret Hodges with illustrations by Arvis Stewart.
Part 1