The Son of Tantalus

The struggles between men and gods often bring out the very best, and the very worst in both in the legends of the ancient world. The lowliest peasant could be raised to the divine, and the mightiest king could fall to the most humiliating ruin. For there existed a delicate balance between the mortal world and the immortal plain, a balance which held bound within it dire consequences for those who sought to violate the laws of nature. For every man blessed with Paradise in the golden, sun drenched Elysian fields, many more were cursed to hideous retribution in the fires of Tartarus. One such malign soul was Tantalus.

The Tantalisation of Tantalus
Painting by Giocchano Assereto

The son of Zeus, the thunder god himself, and the sea nymph Plouto, Tantalus was of an exalted line. King of the mighty realm of Phrygia too, he was a powerful man indeed. The bounty of the Earth, the reverence of man and the lineage of gods, however, had made Tantalus a proud man. Soon, he began to to question the omnipotence of the Olympians. However, his cruel leanings as yet unknown, one day Tantalus was invited to the dine at a banquet with the gods themselves, high on Mount Olympus (just as Ixion had been too, for this story, please click here). Far from being honoured at this request from on high, Tantalus decided to use this opportunity to put the gods to the test. Legend spoke of a magical substance that was the food of gods, a divine material borne to Olympus by doves shining white as the burning sun. This substance was ambrosia, which sustained the ageless life of the immortals, and granted invulnerability to whomsoever should seek sustenance from it. At the table of Olympus, the gods honoured Tantalus by allowing him to taste Ambrosia, and nectar, the drink which sustained the immortals. Through sleight of hand, Tantalus slipped a portion below the table, with an eye to sharing this majestic food with mortal men, out of spite for the gods. The King of gods and men was unmoved, though he saw Tantalus' ploy, such envy was to be expected from mortals, who so frequently believed their own plight to be greater than that of all others. The worst, however, was yet to come.

The Fall of Tantalus
Engraving by Hendrick Goltzius

Tantalus invited the gods to try a dish of his own making, as gratitude for the warm hospitality they had granted him. Happily, they agreed. Resolved to testing their so called omiscience, Tantalus decided upon a grisly trial. Cruel and heartless to the bone, Tantalus murdered his own son, Pelops, and boiled his flesh. Slicing the corpse up, Tantalus crafted a fine dish, one which veiled its gruesome secret from mortal eyes. Returning to the banquet hall, Tantalus served up the evil dish to the assembled gods. At once, the enraged gods were made aware of Tantalus' fell designs, as all things are laid bare before their eyes. All that is, except for Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, who absent mindedly began to chew on one of Pelop's shoulders, distracted by grief as she was at the loss of her daughter Persephone (whose story will be told in a future post). The fury of the Thunderer was a terror to behold, for the slaughter of one's own kin was the gravest of crimes, the most vile of corruptions and most heinous of sins a man could commit. Zeus banished Tantalus to Tartarus, the deepest, darkest and most grim depths of the Underworld. In this cruel land, the most evil men and women met their fates, and it was here too that the Titans were bound in their infernal prison (for this story, please click here). Like Sisyphus before him, Tantalus was doomed to an eternity of vain struggling (for the damnation of Sisyphus, please click here). Tantalus was ordered to stand in a pool of water, deep in unholy Tartarus. Zeus imbued within him an agonising thirst, yet whenever Tantalus should try to drink from the pool, the Thunderer commanded the waters to recede before his very eyes, so that his thirst should never be quenched. Furthermore, Zeus imposed another ordeal:


           " Trees spread their foliage high over the pool and dangled fruits above
              his head - pear trees and pomegranates, apple trees with their glossy
              burden, sweet figs and luxuriant olives. But whenever the old man made
              to grasp them in his hands, the wind would toss them up towards the clouds "
                                                           - THE PUNISHMENT OF TANTALUS

The Peloponnese
Photograph taken by Ulrich Tichy

Condemned to an eternal fate of thirst and hunger, the fate of Tantalus was sealed, bound in the abyss. Stunned by Tantalus inhumanity, Zeus ordered Clotho, one of the Three Fates, to restore Pelops to life. Realising that Pelops had a peculiar stance due to his mangled shoulder, Hephaestus, the god of the forge, crafted a new shoulder from the finest ivory, and granted it to the young prince. Aphrodite, goddess of sensuality bestowed the gift of extraordinary beauty upon Pelops, taking pity upon the prince too. Poseidon, the god of the oceans and the Lord of Horses, gave Pelops a winged chariot which could ride the surface of the seas. Setting forth from Olympus lofty heights, Pelops travelled the lands of Greece, the legends of his grace and prowess spreading before him. Even the lands he travelled through took their name from him, and it is indeed after Pelops that the Peloponnese is named.

Word soon spread throughout the lands of Greece however, of the proclamation of King Oinomaos of Elis, that to the best of men he would give the hand of his daughter, Hippodaemia, in marriage. Any man was welcome to try, but should he fail, he would die. For the challenge was a chariot race, whereby the suitor would attempt to reach the Isthmus of Corinth. Oinomaos would set off in immediate pursuit, in full armour, and if he caught up, he would slay the man. Twelve men had so far accepted the King's deadly challenge, and twelve lay slain, their heads now hanging from the Royal Palace. For the King, unbeknownst to the suitors, possessed the horses and arms of Ares, the god of war, and no human mercy. The stakes were high indeed, when Pelops arrived at the court of Oinomaos.

The Land of Elis
Photograph taken by the author

Entering the throne room, Pelops came before the King to accept the lethal challenge. Lurking nearby, however, was Hippodameia herself, and she was immediately struck by the dart of Eros, stunned by the handsome form of Pelops, blessed by the gods as he was. That night, before the race began, Hippodameia made a secret visit to the quarters of Myrtilos, the King's charioteer. Begging him to help her and come to Pelops' aid in the race, she won Myrtilos over, who agreed, harbouring secret desires for the princess himself. Dawn arrived and rose into the sky, as the line was set and the chariots were made ready. Careful to avoid being seen, however, Myrtilos approached the King's chariot and removed the axle pin from the wheels, replacing it with one made of wax. Pelops soared off the line, racing along the coast of the land which bore his name. With a shout, King Oinomaos set off in pursuit, spear raised and primed for blood once more. However, the sun beat down, and the stresses of the race soon took their course, and the wax began to melt. The King's chariot began to fall apart, and Oinomaos, entangled in the reins was thrown to the sand, dragging helplessly through the ground. Battered, broken and dying, Oinomaos realised Myrtilos' treachery, and with his last words cursed the charioteer to die by Pelops' hand.

Triumphant with victory, Pelops returned to claim Hippodameia's hand, stopping on the road to collect some water. On his return to his new princess he saw Myrtilos attempting to steal away with his new bride, maddened as the charioteer was with passion. Enraged, Pelops seized Myrtilos and hurled him from Cape Geraistos, fulfilling the prophecy of King Oinomaos. Myrtilos however, seething with injustice, proclaimed a terrible curse upon the House of Pelops and his progeny, that it should be forever hounded by strife, and afflicted by death, its descendants doomed to die before their time...

The tale of the treachery of Tantalus, and the adventures of Pelops, is a legendary one in the lore of the ancient Greeks. The cursed line of Pelops would continue to shape the course of history for generations, and the curse would inflict its terrible price for years to come. Not even mighty Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, and grandson of Pelops through his father Atreus, would escape it. But the legacy of Pelops that lives on today is the land of Southern Greece, a land of magnificent beauty, among whose illustrious sons can be counted the formidable Spartans, the greatest warriors ever born. What of Tantalus? Well, his legacy is found within our very language. For even today in English, if a person is tantalised, they are victim to temptation...


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)

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(One of the greatest pieces of world literature, which recounts the punishment of Tantalus)

The Metamorphoses:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the plight of Pelops, and many other heroes)

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)

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(One of the greatest pieces of world literature, which recounts the punishment of Tantalus)

The Metamorphoses:
Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the plight of Pelops, and many other heroes) 

Ixion

The fates of those condemned to punishment are often revealing windows into the psyche of another culture. Through a dramatic example, they show us at once what qualities are deplored and which are admired. It bears little wonder therefore, why criminals gain such infamy in the popular mindset. Particularly where sympathy may stain a reputation of atrocity. The men and women condemned to the depths of Tartarus in Roman and Greek lore are no different, and their stories no less remembered for it (for a story of another such man, please click here). One such man was Ixion, whose tale merges ignominy and tragedy in equal measure.

The Anguish of Ixion
Painting by Jules-Élie Delaunay.

Ixion, like the hero Bellerophon (for more about him, please click here), was of a cursed line. His father, whose name was Phlegyas, was also tormented in the Underworld, as was his sister, Coronis. One day the god Apollo, enamoured of Coronis, had ordered a white raven to guard her when his divine presence was required elsewhere. She was pregnant with the Sun god's own son, and was not to be touched by another. With Apollo's absence however, Coronis soon became infatuated with a local Lapith chieftain, a man named Ischys. The day came when Apollo returned, and the god asked the white raven if Coronis had been kept safe in his absence. The bird, fearful of its master, told him of the affair it had witnessed. Filled with fury that the raven had not pecked out the eyes of Ischys for daring to even look upon Coronis, Apollo unleashed a curse upon the bird so powerful the feathers on its body were badly scorched. Ever since this time, the plumage borne by all ravens has been black, a living reminder of their progenitor's fate. Appalled, the god of the sun pierced her with an arrow, slaying her instantly. The soul of the girl was borne to Tartarus, where it was ever after punished, yet upon her funeral pyre, her unborn son was saved by Apollo, overcome as he was by remorse. Her son was named Asclepius, and would become the god of medicine and healing, patron god of doctors. Phlegyas however, was driven mad with anger at the killing of his daughter. In retaliation, Phlegyas torched the sacred temple of Apollo at Delphi itself, committing the ultimate act of blasphemy, such that his name came to mean 'the fiery one' in the Greek tongue. Inevitably, Apollo struck the man down.

Mount Olympus
Photograph taken by Aline Zienowicz.

Such was the legacy left to Ixion, who had seen both his own father and sister slain by a god. Thirsting for vengeance, Ixion would ever after pit himself against Olympus, even the father of gods himself. One day, Ixion, like his sister, fell foul of dangerous passion. Wishing to be wed to the maiden Dia, daughter of Deioneus, but unable to afford the steep bride price (the opposite of the dowry) required, Ixion despaired. Driven to desperation, Ixion turned to deceit. Telling Deioneus that he would present a valuable gift to him in return for Dia, the two were wed, and soon ran away. In revenge, Deioneus seized Ixion's horses as compensation for the crime. Angered in turn, Ixion tried his hand at deception once more. Inviting Deioneus to a great feast, ostensibly to settle matters rationally, Ixion prepared his trap. Deioneus arrived and moved to embrace his son-in-law, but reconciliation was far from the mind of Ixion. Approaching slowly, Ixion suddenly and violently pushed Deioneus into the fire, and so 'he was the hero who, not without guile, was the first to stain mortal men with kindred blood'. The relationship between guest and host was a holy one in ancient times.  A host was supposed to treat a guest with charity, respect and kindness, and a guest should honour his host suitably. It was a bond so sacred that it's patron was the Thunderer himself. Yet Ixion had not only disrespected his guest, he had murdered him, polluting himself with the most savage of crimes.

Ixion is bound to the Wheel of Fire
Engraving by Bernard Picart.

Slowly falling into insanity, Ixion wandered the plains, spurned by all men, so horrified were they at his crime. Seeing the outlaw living so wretchedly, and recalling the tragedy of Ixion's family, Zeus offered the hand of redemption to this polluted man. The king of the gods even brought him to the banqueting table on Olympus itself, inviting Ixion to dine with the gods. However, at his moment of forgiveness, Ixion did not forget, nor forgive. Just as the gods had treated his father and sister so lamentably, Ixion resolved to punish even Zeus himself. Just as Apollo had made sport of Coronis, now Ixion turned his attention upon Hera, queen of the gods and the wife of Zeus. Plotting in his mind, Ixion resolved to abduct the goddess, once again violating the bond of guest to host, this time violating it in the name of its very patron. Zeus however, was omniscient. Seeing the dark thoughts brewing in his mind, Zeus could not believe that Ixion would dare do such a thing, but prepared a test nonetheless. Crafting an image of his wife from the clouds, Zeus created the cloud woman, Nephele, who resembled Hera perfectly. To Zeus' dismay, Ixion seized Nephele and stole away to his quarters on Olympus. Ixion even begot a son by Nephele, named Centaurus, a man so deranged he would one day take one of the mares which lived on Mount Pelion as his wife, and thus sire the race of Centaurs, creatures who would ever after cause great strife in the kingdoms of men.

The Thunder god was stricken with fury. Not content with violating the bonds between men, Ixion had violated the bonds between the gods themselves. Zeus hurled a thunderbolt at Ixion, blasting him from the summit of Mount Olympus. Furthermore, Zeus ordered Hermes to bind Ixion to a wheel made of fire, a wheel decreed to spin across through the skies for eternity, as Ixion looked on alone at the world he had polluted, victim of the terrible agony of his fiery bonds...

United Kingdom

The Odes of Pindar
The Complete Odes (Oxford World's Classics)
(The story of Ixion and his punishment in poetry) 

The Library of Greek Mythology
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A less poetic account, but includes a wealth of information from across Greek Mythology)

United States

The Odes of Pindar
The Complete Odes (Oxford World's Classics)
(The story of Ixion and his punishment in poetry) 

The Library of Greek Mythology
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A less poetic account, but includes a wealth of information from across Greek Mythology)