Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Week 2 Reading Diary: Ovid I

For my first Reading Diary, I delve into the first books of Ovid's Metamorphoses in Unit Ovid I.

Deucalion and Pyrrha: This story makes me think of some sort of mixture of the account of Noah's Ark and the story of Genesis in the Bible. After all, the surface of the Earth is destroyed because of a god's anger, and the flood involves the escape of a duo--that is, Deucalion and Pyrrha. I would even say that the scattering of Pyrrha's mother's bones evokes Abraham's attempted sacrifice of his child at the order of God.

Io: Is there anything more common than rape in Greek mythology? In any case, this story brings to mind the question of what makes someone human. Can Io be considered a human in her animalistic form? Maybe it comes down to the ability to identify oneself, as Io did for her father.

Phaethon and the Sun: I LOVE the explanation of the etymology of "phaethon" in the introduction. My dad's a journalist with quite the penchant for etymology, and it's rubbed off on me a bit. I'm starting to notice a pattern in these stories in regard to the conflict between logical warnings and promises. Just as Juno only calmed down after Jupiter swore Io wouldn't be a source of pain, Phoebus was forced to let Phaethon drive the chariot after having sworn to grant him what he wanted. As Phaethon prepares to ride, I enjoy how Phoebus offers an explanation that fits with how the Greeks viewed their world in regard to the rising and setting of the sun. Interestingly enough, the distance between the Earth and the Sun is important in ensuring a inhabitable temperature, and the described consequences of Phaethon's veering off course certainly is defendable. With the death of Phaethon, a series of transformations commences, one of which reminds me of the Forest of Suicides in Canto XIII Dante's Inferno. For example, when Clymene tries to remove the bark from her daughters, she ends up wounding them.

Callisto: I like the redemption of Callisto in this story. At first she's sent away by Diana for the shame of carrying a child and eventually is turned into a bear. Jupiter's response is to place them in the heavens as a way to save them from death. However, it might be too much to say that Jupiter felt that he was to blame.

Semele: Once again, we find an example in which a god is bound by a promise thus introducing a problem in the story. Poor Semele couldn't have known the consequences of her request. On another note, I find Jupiter's 'pregnancy' interesting because it might reflect ideas of how gestation worked at the time of the writing of the story. To be honest, it reminds me of how male seahorses carry offspring to term!

Echo: I find it interesting how simple disagreements between gods can become, in a way, statements on fundamental observations in life. Something as innocent as what Jupiter said needed to be tested over the course of years to reach a verdict. Plus, these explanations for natural events seem so mechanical, and I don't mean to assign a negative connotation to that. Rather, I could say that they make logical sense.

Narcissus: The comparison of Narcissus' features to features of the Olympians seems to be a salute to their perfect form. The quote "What I want I have. My riches make me poorer" draws out the paradox between the relationship of love and beauty. If one is of perfect form, how could they ever be satisfied with anything less? And for Narcissus, love for the perfect form literally becomes a reflection of himself.

Pyramus and Thisbe: I immediately thought of Maximillian and Valentine from The Count of Monte Cristo when I read "So they talked, hopelessly, sitting opposite, saying, as night fell, 'Farewell,' each touching the wall with kisses that could not reach the other side." The scene evokes the conversations Maximillian and Valentine shared across the garden wall outside Villefort's mansion. As a point of contrast, however, dramatic irony exists in Ovid's story whereas in The Count of Monte Cristo the reader believes Valentine dies of poisoning.

Mars and Venus: As short as this story is, it reminds me of some novellas in the Decameron in which one character puts another to shame in return for being wronged by the second.

Perseus and Andromeda: Once again, there's an explanation of origin when it comes to where certain species of serpents came from. I must say that I'm a bit surprised by how nonchalant Perseus seems to be when it comes to taking Andromeda as a prize and placing her parents in a position where they cannot willing refuse his offer.

Perseus and Medusa: Man, Ovid has a very way of slipping those explanations for parts of nature as he does with coral in this story. Once he states it, he moves on. My only complaint about this story is its lack of suspense. From the beginning it seems that it's presumed that Perseus will be victorious.  


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