And if a king became a poet and worshiped the Muse in the guise of a beautiful lover, then she was murdered. Such was the story of the Comagen king, Solomon and Sulamyth. She was also killed because she violated the taboo and did not hide her nudity.
“But there are so many poets and artists in Hellas who glorify the beauty of women,” Thais said.
“Yes, our female and male gods have not parted too much. That is good luck for Helenians and provides eternal envy for other people. In Hellas, the world is open to women, and that is why they are not as ignorant as those of other peoples, and their children do not grow up to be barbarians. Those who pose before artists and sculptors in all of their splendor are not killed, but celebrated, because we believe that to give one’s beauty to people is no less honorable than for a master to depict it in a fresco or in marble. Helenians have always understood the power of Eros and the importance of poetry for evolving the senses. We did not reach a point where women embody all their qualities in one incarnation, but at least we created two kinds of women in two most important guises: the lady of the house and a hetaera-friend.”
“Which one is more important?”
“They are both important. And both united in the Great Goddess Mother, the Mistress of Wild Animals and Plants. But remember, the Great Goddess does not live in cities. Her dwellings are among hills and groves, valleys and mountains, inhabited by animals. She is also in the sea, for she is a sea goddess as well. The prophets of Syria considered the sea to be the homeland of all things sinful. Rahab, the seductress and heiress of the Babylonian goddess Tiamat, is connected with the sea. They have an exclamation: ‘There will be no more sea’. The Egyptians too are afraid of the sea.”
“How strange. I think I couldn’t live without the sea,” Thais said. “But I am not afraid of a city if it stands on the seashore.”
“Do you not know which guise to follow?” the philosopher asked, then chuckled. “Don’t think about it too much. Fate itself made you a hetaera while you are young. When you are older, you’ll become a mother and much will change about you, but for now you are Circe and must fulfill your purpose.”
To Thais’ question as to what exactly her purpose was, the Delos priest explained that the female goddess, the Muse, while not being bloodthirsty, was still not as kind as her admiring poets saw her. There was a saying among people that to be a poet, to love a poet, or to ridicule him — all were equally deadly. The ancient moon goddesses of Crete and Syria were decorated with snakes as a reminder that their beautiful images concealed death, as lions guard their victims at their feet. Such are their sisters: the owl goddess with her wisdom-burning eyes, flying at night, announcing death. She is akin to the “night mare” Demeter, or the ruthless hawk Circe, the omen of peril, or to the mistress of the island of Tears, Ea, in the north of the Inner Sea. Circe was the enchantress of love, turning men into animals according to their worth: pigs, wolves or lions. Artemis Elate, the Huntress, watched over the health of all wild animals and people, destroying the feeble, the sick, the weak of mind and the ugly.
The great goddess Muse was always portrayed in the nude, as the giver of truth, unattached to any place or time. She could not be a housewife. She would always counter that guise. Therefore, women could not play her role for any length of time.
“I know,” Thais said with sadness and concern, “how many maenadae commit suicide during the love festivals.”
“I am increasingly pleased with you,” the philosopher exclaimed. “I shall add to your statements that she who was born to be a muse, but is forced to be a housewife, always lives with the temptation of suicide. Your role in life is to be a muse to artists and poets, charming and merciful, gentle but ruthless in all things pertaining to Truth, Love and Beauty. You ought to be an inspiring beginning that awakens the best aspirations of the sons of men, distracting them from gluttony, wine and fighting, stupid competition, miserly jealousy and humiliating slavery. Through poets and artists, you, the Muse, must not let the stream of knowledge turn into a dead swamp.
“I am warning you: it is not an easy path for a mortal woman. But it will not be long, for only young women full of strength can stand it.”
“And what then? Death?”
“If gods are merciful to you and allow you to die young. But if not, then you shall turn a different feminine face to the world, that of an instructor, a teacher of children, a gardener of those sparks of light in children’s souls that can later become torches. Wherever you are and whatever happens to you, remember you are a bearer of the Great Goddess’ face. When you lose your dignity, you humiliate all women, both Mothers and Muses. You allow the dark forces of the soul, especially the male soul, to be victorious instead of winning over them yourself. You are a warrior, which is why you must never fall before a man. Do not let the power of Eros do what you see as disgusting, allowing things that humiliate you. Better Anteros than such love.”
“You said Anteros, Father?”
“You grew pale. What are you afraid of?”
“We were taught since childhood that unrequited love was the worst misfortune, feared by Aphrodite herself. It dooms a man to intolerable suffering, the world becomes like the Nesses’ clothes[13] to him. Anteros, God of unrequited love, invents new misfortunes and torment. And I cannot overcome my childhood fear.”
“Now that you are initiated into the knowledge of the Orphics and the three-faced goddess, you shall overcome this fear. Have you seen people who, like our poet, had the gift of subjecting others to their will? There are more of them than you think. They include tyrants, demagogues and strategists. It is great trouble when they serve the forces of evil, causing suffering. One must avoid all contact with such people for they spread around themselves the harmful breath of dark magic, also called black magic. You must know that there are ways to influence people through physical love, through attraction of genders, through beauty, music and dance. Obeying the purposes and knowledge of a black mage, a woman possessing beauty increases her power over men several fold, and a man does the same over women. And woe be upon those who will crawl at their feet, despised and willing to do anything for one word or glance. All this constitutes true Anteros. People and their lives are endlessly varied. But you possess the power not to obey blindly either people, or love, or deceptive words, whether they be they spoken or written. Why then would you be scared of unrequited love? It can only strengthen you on your way, bringing out your hidden powers. That was why I taught you.”
“And what about the terrible companions of Anteros, revenge and payback?”
“Why should you follow them? You must not humiliate and torture a man just as you must not humiliate yourself. Keep to the thin line of wise behavior or else you shall fall to the position of the one you humiliated, and both of you shall drown in the mud of lowly life.
“Remember the people who consider themselves to be “chosen”. They oppressed others by military force, by hunger or by deprivation of knowledge. Invariably, a sense of guilt grew in their souls, strange, blind and even more terrible because of it. That is why they rush about in search of a deity that could remove their guilt. Not finding such among the male gods, they rush toward the ancient female goddesses. And the others store the guilt within themselves. Becoming even more angry, they become torturers and executors of others, trampling over dignity and beauty of men, dragging them into mud and drowning there themselves. Such people are the most dangerous ones. Once upon a time the Orphics employed nemetors, the secret priests of Zeus Metron, Zeus the Measurer, whose duty was to eliminate such evil people quickly with the aid of poison. But the cult of Zeus the Measurer is no more, nor are his secret priests. And the number of tormentors grows in the Ecumene. Sometimes I feel that the daughter of Night, Nemesis, has fallen asleep, intoxicated by her own wreath of the daffodils which feed forgetfulness.”
13
Poisoned clothes of centaur Nesses. Hercules put them on and could not take them off, suffering cruelly as the clothes stuck to his body.