The Redemption of Heracles

With one last task standing between Heracles and his ascension to godhood, the mortal hours of the son of Zeus were numbered. Since the curse of Hera eight long years ago, the hero had toiled endlessly in the service of King Eurystheus, travelling far and wide, and facing some of the most terrible creatures which walked the earth (for the previous episode in this saga, please click here). Having thoroughly proved himself on the mortal plain, just one arena remained to be overcome...

Cape Taenarum today
Photograph taken by 'Eliasar'

Having travelled to the furthest boundaries of the Great Ocean, deceived the mighty Atlas and borne the divine Apples of the Hesperides to Tiryns, the contempt Heracles had all along received from Eurystheus was at last turning to reverence. The last enemy that remained to be conquered was death itself. For his final Labour, the King declared that Heracles must descend into the land of the dead, and bring the hound of Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, before him. The beast which guarded the gates to the inner sanctum of the Underworld was no ordinary dog, however. For Cerberus was another of the vile brood of the monster gods Typhon and Echidna (for their role in the Creation, please click here), and brother to such beings as the Hydra, the Lion of Nemea, the Chimaera and the hell hound Orthus. Gigantic in stature, triple headed (some tales speak of a hundred heads), dragon tailed and with serpentine heads bursting from its back, there was no more terrible doorman to the realm of the dead than Cerberus. Excited at the coming end, Heracles enthusiastically departed the mighty walled city of Tiryns on what he hoped would be his final quest. Rumours abound of several gateways on Earth through which one can enter the Underworld. One such one was a deep fissure in the Earth at Cape Taenarum - the most southerly point on Mainland Greece, a prominence which speared forth into the Mediterranean Sea. Southwards the son of Zeus journeyed, until the horizon was the unbroken line of the distant Sea. Finding an eerie silence, devoid of birdsong, the sound of the winds in the trees or the calls of other beasts, Heracles knew he was close. Coming to the pitch blackness of the mouth of a cavern, dauntless, the hero descended into its murky depths.

Cerberus
Painting by William Blake

Deeper and darker the path fell, as the son of Zeus became aware that he was being watched. The shades of the deceased began to stir, and relentlessly approached. With a start Heracles suddenly saw a grim sight before him. Slithering into the faint light, a woman's form, but for a reptilian tail and a head of hissing snakes for hair, the abomination gazed upon the hero. Medusa herself was looking him right in the eye. In a flash, Heracles drew his sword and advanced upon the creature. With a burst of sudden light, Hermes appeared before Heracles and stayed his hand. The messenger of the gods reassured him that this was the domain of the deceased, and Medusa was no more than a ghostly apparition of her former self. The only one of the Gorgons that was mortal, Medusa had been slain by the hero Perseus, and henceforth banished to this realm (for this story, please click here). Her murderous stare died with her. Continuing upon the dark road, Heracles began to see others he recognised. Many souls stumbled forth to embrace the hero, including the hero Theseus, hoping to be rescued from this grim land, but their ethereal hands simply passed through his flesh. Lacking corporeal form, the spirits of the dead were devoid of speech, requiring a sacrifice of blood to grant them awareness. Seeing a paddock of cattle nearby, Heracles started towards it, and slaughtered the largest bull he could find, eager to hear the words of the dead. Their herdsmen, however, was angered that Heracles had dared touch the cattle of Hades, and launched himself at the hero. The two wrestled frantically, the dead circling around them. Using his divine strength, Heracles clamped his arms around the herdsmen's chest, and wrenched with all his might. A sickening crack rent the air, heralding the shattering of the herdsman's ribs. Triumphant, Heracles turned to find himself with Hades himself, god of the dead, and Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.

Heracles and Cerberus
Image taken from a 6th century BC Etruscan Vase

Persephone scolded Heracles for his violence, as Hades demands the reason for his presence in this realm, a realm the living should not tread. The son of Zeus boldly told the god of his task, and asked Hades for permission to take Cerberus. Reluctantly, Hades agreed that he could take him, on the condition that he do so without harming the hound in any way, and that he use no weapons to overpower the beast. Agreeing to this, Heracles ventured deeper into the Halls of Erebus, coming ever close to the Gates of Tartarus. Coming to Acheron, the River of Pain, on the boundaries of the deepest parts of the Underworld (as it is in Dante's Inferno, see here), Heracles glimpsed the hell hound in the distance. Towering, and snarling, Cerberus stood guard over fiery Tartarus. Heracles watched for a moment as the souls of the damned appeared behind Cerberus. Fawning and docile toward any who approached his domain, Cerberus allowed readily any soul to enter Tartarus. But behind, any accursed shade that tried to escape their hellish prison was seized by the hound and brutally slashed. Remembering Hades' warning, Heracles sheathed his sword, but was careful to wrap the lion skin tightly around him. Approaching the Gate, Heracles was relieved to see that Cerberus was calm, expecting Heracles to enter Tartarus. Suddenly diving at the monster, Heracles grappled with its three heads. Like lightning, as though possessed, Cerberus thrashed against the hero. Thrown by the hound's sudden fury, Heracles grip loosened, and Cerberus slammed one of his many jaws shut on the hero's arm. Though in terrible agony from the savage bite, Heracles gritted his teeth and held on for dear life, as Cerberus, and the surrounding Gate, shuddered violently. For an age man and beast struggled, as Heracles began the long, agonisingly slow march back to Tiryns, wrestling the great dog the entire way. With his last reserves of strength, Heracles heaved Cerberus into the hall of King Eurystheus, who was so terrified of the hound he had hidden in a nearby jar. Shouting from within it, he pleaded with Heracles to return it to the Underworld, declaring his tasks and an end, and his oath fulfilled.

The Apotheosis of Heracles
Painting by François Lemoyne

A wave of euphoria gripped Heracles. At last. At long last he was free. Nearly ten years had passed since he first set out for the Lion of Nemea, and now so much had changed. Now the heroic wanderings of Heracles began, as the son of Zeus travelled far across the known world, revered as a living god by his fellow men. Countless wars were ended by his club, cities were founded in his name, and other fell creatures were hurled to the House of Death by his hand. He fought the first war with Troy, conquered the Giants, travelled with the Argonauts to the Golden Fleece and founded the Olympic Games. It was at the climax of this Golden Age that his final fate unfolded. One day, mighty Heracles arrived in the Kingdom of Calydon, eager to win the hand of the King's daughter, Deianeira, in marriage. Though humbled by the presence of so mighty a man, King Oineus resolved to hold a contest of worthiness. Heracles and the River God Acheloos stepped forward to compete, as the issue would be settled by a wrestling match. Even though Acheloos was a shape shifter, and became the form of a bull, Heracles won with little difficulty, after enduring all he had in his Labours. Delighted, King Oineus gave Deianeira to Heracles for a bride. The two departed happily for new lands, coming to the banks of the River Evenos. By the fast flowing river stood a Centaur, astride a small boat. The Centaur introduced himself as Nessus, and offered to ferry the two across. Seeing that the craft was not big enough for all of them, Heracles bade Deianeira take the ferry, whilst he would swim across. Just as they were halfway across, Heracles heard screaming. True to the debauched nature of Centaurs, Nessus had seized hold of Deianeira, and attempted to steal her away. The Centaur had not forgotten Heracles' slaying of many of his brethren many years ago when he sought the Erymanthian Boar (see here), and determined to take revenge. Furious, Heracles took up his bow and fired an arrow through the Centaurs hind leg. Since the arrows of Heracles were impregnated with the Hydra's poison (see here), Nessus' fate was sealed, as he began to die an agonising death. Seeing one last opportunity to take vengeance, Nessus gave his bloodsoaked tunic to Deianeira, telling her secretly that the blood of Centaurs was a powerful love potion.

Some years later, Heracles prepared to give his final sacrifice to Zeus. Ordering his servant Lichas to bring to him some fine clothing so he could conduct the ritual, Heracles began his preparations. Lichas came before Deianeira with Heracles request. Rumour, however, had reached her ears that Heracles had fallen for a foreign princess. Fearing he would leave her forever, Deianeira took a linen shirt and smeared some of Nessus' blood upon it, confident it would restore her husband's fidelity. Lichas bore the tunic back to his master, who immediately put it on and stood before the sacrificial fire. As the shirt grew warm, suddenly Heracles was struck with blinding agony.

His very skin was as though alight, as white hot pain spread across his body. Unknown to the hero, the tunic was drenched in the blood of Nessus, which in turn was saturated in the Hydra's poison. Heracles, who had used the monster's poison to slay some of the mightiest beasts on Earth, now knew their pain. In desperation, Heracles tried to rip the tunic from him, but his skin was torn with it, so potent was the Hydra's poison. Knowing that his death was at hand, Heracles was struck mad by the intense agony, and hurled Lichas from a cliff, believing him to have done this. When word reached Deianeira of what had happened, she hanged herself in shame. Resolving not to die like this, Heracles built his own pyre, as his strength rapidly dwindled. Climbing on to it, Heracles desperately called for someone to set it alight and end his suffering. Poias, a faithful Argonaut, moved to tears at what he saw, was the only one willing to do so. In return, Heracles bequeathed his great bow to him, as the flames began to lick his body.

The fire blazed, and with mighty tremor and roar of thunder, Heaven suddenly opened in the sky, and the clouds parted. In a glorious flash of lightning, Zeus himself came down to Earth to claim Heracles. The fire had burned away the hero's mortal side, but his immortal spirit was untouched. The Thunderer bore his son up to Mount Olympus, and at last, Heracles entered the light. Moved by his suffering, Hera at last took pity on Heracles, and declared her feud at an end. Welcomed in Heaven, Heracles had earned his place in the company of gods...


United Kingdom

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories from old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

United States

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories from old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

Greed, Wrath and Sloth

Regaining consciousness after his harrowing ordeal, Dante finds himself in a harsh and cruel new place (for the precursor to this, please click here). The eerie, vast abyss of Hell plays tricks on our pilgrim's mind, as the true extent of unholy retribution against the damned slowly becomes clear. "New sufferings and new sinners suffering appeared to me, no matter where I turned my eyes, no matter where I gazed". His vision unblurring and his senses taking hold once more, fresh horrors await the traveller to the impious land.

Cerberus
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

No sooner than Dante spies his guide, Virgil, awaiting nearby than a dreadful alliance of foul things assault his senses. A fetid smell rises in the air, as thundering rain batters the ground. This is no ordinary rain however. Dense hail and filthy water churn with snow upon the ground of Hell, the disgusting slush spreading nausea all around. Just then, a howling roar echoes through the pounding rain, and our pilgrim starts in fear. Looking around in terror, his eyes find its source. The mighty hound of Hell, Cerberus, lies sprawling in the squalor, his three throats bellowing through the downpour. As sickening in sight as his lair is in smell, the gigantic beast is a horror for Dante to look upon. Eyes swollen red, black drool pouring from his three mouths and more a mound of twitching muscle than a true form, the polluted claws slash and mangle the spirits of the damned all about. The demonic dog suddenly is made aware of the presence of Dante and Virgil, snarling and baring his fangs in anger, aware that they do not belong in his realm. Virgil, however, is unperturbed. Kneeling into the grotesque muck, the great poet takes up a handful of the horrid slime and casts them into the greedy jaws:

             " As a howling cur, hungering to get fed,
                     quiets down with the first mouthful of his food,
                     busy with eating, wrestling with that alone,

               So it was with all three filthy heads
                     of the demon Cerberus, used to barking thunder
                     on these dead souls, who wished that they were deaf. "
                                       - VIRGIL WARDS OFF CERBERUS

Though marshy underfoot from the heavy rain, our two poets journey on into the pestilence. As they journey on, Dante becomes aware that he walks upon the cursed shades, beaten down to near nothingness by the torrential rain, struggling in the choking sludge. One among them sits up straight, a man Dante once knew in life, a fellow Florentine. Ciacco is his name and for his sin of gluttony, he was condemned to this place, the Third Circle of Hell, along with many others, all given over to engorgement. The two men speak of Florence and her politics, lamenting at so few good souls who dwelled within. Dante asks of his friends, Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca and the others, do they enjoy Heaven's sweetness or have they been cast into the darkness? "They lie below with blacker souls" Ciacco mournfully concedes, beckoning Dante further on. Staring awhile at the living man, Ciacco soon falls down into the muddy wastes to join his voracious kin. Onwards the two poets venture, bemoaning the loss of hope all shades of Hell endure, as the path descends, twists and turns, to the Fourth Circle of Hell.

The Spendthrifts and the Misers
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

Upon the doors to the next realm, a swollen figure appears, in the shape of a man, yet muttering nonsensical noises and inane ramblings. This is Plutus, the god of wealth and enemy of man, and this Circle is his realm, to where all who worship riches are condemned. Shouting at the god, Virgil states their purpose as divinely ordained and willed from on high. Plutus shrinks back to the shadows, as the poets enter his domain. Great shouts and bellowings pierce the air, as Dante looks on in shock. Far more spirits are bound here than in any realm above. As though some twisted joust, the souls push enormous weights toward the centre, straining with all their might, sweat pouring from their limbs. When they meet in the centre one asks the other "Why hoard?", while the other "Why waste?", before turning back and beginning again, and again, and again, and again and again. For here are punished the spendthrifts, those who lavished riches in life, and the miserly, those who relentlessly pursued wealth in life yet could not bear to spend any of their own. Dante notices in dismay that there are great many priests and Popes among the damned here, most susceptible to avarice were they. Wondering if he will recognise any among these wretched men, Dante turns to his master. An empty hope, he replies, their lives were undistinguished, as they have become now. So enamoured of their riches are they that they are oblivious to all else around. Disgusted by their insatiable greed, Virgil turns to his follower:

               " You see, my son, the short-lived mockery
                         of all the wealth that is in Fortune's keep,
                         over which the human race is bickering;

                 For all the gold that is or ever was
                         beneath the moon won't buy a moment's rest
                         for even one among those weary souls. "
                                         - VIRGIL DESPAIRS OF THE FUTILITY OF GREED

The Wrathful
Painting by William-Adolphe Bougereau.

Appalled, and struck with revulsion, Virgil bids Dante on, as the stars which rose when they first met even now begin to fall. Crossing the Circle to a further bank, they pass a boiling spring, which spits and overflows with its raging waters into a ditch. Descending further into the bowels of Hell, Dante notices new faces appearing in the torrents. Filthy people, unclad and faces twisted with anger churned the vile water to rapids, as the stream flowed into the great River Styx. Consumed with their wrath, the souls rip and tear each other, their teeth rending flesh, there hands and feet tearing each other limb from limb. "Now see the souls that anger overcame", Virgil enlightens the curious Dante. Noticing strange bubbles breaking at the surface, Dante is confused. That is all you can see off the slothful, Virgil proclaims. Sluggish in life in the sweet air under the Sun, now they lie gurgling at the bottom of that foul muck. The condemned sing the hymn of their own doom into eternity, yet the bursting bubbles at the surface is all that is heard.


Nauseous once again, Dante hurries to rejoin his master, when suddenly, a towering citadel looms ominously ahead...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:

Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)

(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:

The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

The Fetters of Fenrir

                  “ Among the Aesir is he whom some call the mischief-monger of the Aesir, and

                    the first father of falsehoods, and blemish of all gods and men... ”

                                                     - LOKI, THE TRICKSTER

Loki - The Trickster
Image taken from the 18th century Icelandic
manuscript SÁM 66.

Among the Aesir, or war gods of the Norse lands, there was one who never truly belonged. For while all other gods were descended from Búri, Loki was half Jötunn (for the origin of these races, click here) with Fárbauti, a Giant, as his father and Laufey, a god, as his mother. For while in his most common physical form Loki resembled the Aesir and men, in his heart he bore the wanton cruelty of the most savage among the Jötunn. One of the most notorious tricksters of all time, “He surpassed other men in that wisdom which is called sleight”, able to shape shift at will and take the form of any being, mortal and immortal, monster and man. Though friend to the Aesir in the beginning, Loki and his progeny would one day spell doom for the nine worlds, its gods and men.

In secret, Loki begat with the Jötunn Angrboða three fearsome offspring. The first was the great wolf, Fenrir, famous for his strength. The second, Jörmungand, was a serpent fated one day to be the mortal nemesis of the god Thor. The third was a daughter, Hel. The gods, however, soon learned of a prophecy that warned of their doom at the hands of Loki’s brood, conceived in the land of Jötunheim. Odin ordered the gods to take the offspring and bring them before him. Turning first to Jörmungand, the King of the gods grasped the snake by his tail and hurled him into the ocean which surrounds Midgard (the realm of men). Odin then rounded on Hel. Casting her into Niflheim, Odin gave her power and rule over the dead of each of the Nine Worlds. Those who henceforth died of sickness or old age would ‘go to Hel’. Niflheim was ever after a grim place, where:

                   “ Her hall is called Sleet-Cold; her dish, Hunger; Famine is her knife;

                     Idler, her thrall; Sloven, her maidservant; Pit of Stumbling, her threshold;

                     Disease, her bed; Gleaming Bale, her bed-hangings... ”

                                                   - THE LAND OF HEL

Fenrir bound
Image taken from the 18th century Icelandic
manuscript SÁM 66.

Hel herself resembled a beautiful woman on one half of her body, and that of a rotting corpse on the other. Things were not going to Odin’s plan, for Loki’s children only grew in power. Jörmungand terrorized the high seas, and soon grew to such gargantuan size that his coils could encircle the entire world and take his own tail in his mouth. Hel’s minions grew vast in number, and at her command, the mighty dragon, Nidhogg, began to gnaw at the roots of the World Tree, Yggdrasill. Guarding her gates, the hound of hell known as Garm, unlike his Greek counterpart Cerberus, was possessed of demonic bloodlust, and his chest was at all times dripping with human blood. It is written that Ragnarök, the doom of the gods, will be heralded by Garm’s roar sounding throughout the Nine Worlds, as the hound is no longer to be sated by human blood, but thirsts for the very life-force of gods. But most pressing among the Aesir’s problems was Fenrir. The gods had raised the Wolf as their own in their home of Asgard, with only Tyr, the god of war and heroic glory, brave enough to feed scraps of meat to him. Soon, like his brother Jörmungand, Fenrir began to mature. The gods grew fearful of how much Fenrir grew every day, and mindful of the prophecy foretelling their own doom at his hands the gods conceived a plan. They could not simply kill the Wolf, as the shedding of blood of one they had raised would pollute the sanctity of Asgard forever. Instead they turned to trickery of their own.

The Aesir forged a very strong fetter, called Laedingr, and brought it before the Wolf. The gods asked Fenrir if he would test his strength against the chain. Fenrir considered this “no overwhelming odds” and let the gods do as they wished. To the horror of the Aesir, however, the fetter was broken at the Wolf’s first kick. The Aesir then forged a new fetter, Drómi, stronger again by half than the first chain. The gods flattered the Wolf, and told him that his fame would be great indeed if he could shatter these shackles. The Wolf considered this, and inheriting his father’s evil ways, dreamed of his own legend should he succeed. Reasoning that he must expose himself to risk if he was to become renowned, Fenrir allowed himself to be bound once more:

                 “ Now when the Aesir declared themselves ready, the Wolf shook himself,

                   dashed the fetter against the Earth and struggled fiercely with it,

                   spurned against it, and broke the fetter, so that the fragments flew far... ”

                                                 - FENRIR SHATTERS HIS BONDS

Fenrir bites off the hand of Tyr
Image taken from the 18th century Icelandic
manuscript SÁM 66.

Even Odin now grew fearful that they would never bind the monster, and in desperation sent Skírnir, a messenger of the Aesir, to the realm of the dwarves to ask for aid. The dwarves were skilled craftsmen, and made a fetter called Gleipnir out of six things: “the noise a cat makes in foot-fall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a rock, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish and the spittle of a bird”. The Aesir brought Gleipnir before Fenrir, and flattered him once again, assuring him that he would snap it with little effort. To the eye, the dwarven fetter appeared to be no more than a silken ribbon however, and Fenrir was cunning. The Wolf, sensing deception, declared that he would receive no glory for breaking “so slender a band”, but if there be trickery within then he would not allow the fetter to come upon his feet. Desperate, the gods assured Fenrir that they would release him if it proved too strong. But the Wolf, as a son of Loki, would not succumb so easily to deceit. Fenrir agreed to the god’s challenge on one condition, that one among the Aesir rest their hand in his mouth “for a pledge that this is done in good faith”. Looking among each other, their courage buckled, only Tyr strode forth and volunteered to the Wolf’s request.  So, his bond fitted, Fenrir lashed out, struggled and churned and writhed against the ribbon. But the dwarves were skilled craftsmen, for whenever the Wolf shuddered, the band grew tighter and hardened. The gods rejoiced at last, all except Tyr, for when he saw their treachery laid before him, Fenrir slammed his jaws shut and violently wrenched the god's hand off. The Aesir dragged the Wolf across the world, and ran his fetter through a rock and bound it deep in the ground. Fenrir tried to bite the Aesir, so they thrust a sword into his mouth. The saliva which ran from his jaw formed a river in Asgard, as the Wolf seethed with rage. However, he still lived, and another prophecy stated that Fenrir will one day gain his revenge, and at Ragnarök, his chains will be broken...

The stories of Norse Mythology are entertaining in their own right, but one of the many enduring motifs within them, is the careful crescendo up to the end of the world. Masterfully, the Norse skalds (bards) slowly and steadily set the scene for Ragnarök, turning god against god as friendships are formed and broken. Those who were once greatest of allies at the creation become worst of foes at the end. It only makes the end more powerful when we know why the tensions have built. It is for this precise reason why studying the past is a path to boundless understanding.

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)
(A fast paced version well suited to the casual reader)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Prose Edda: Norse Mythology (Penguin Classics)
(A fast paced version well suited to the casual reader)