The Trident and the Spear

Every city which rises to greatness does so from humble beginnings. So high can a nation rise that so mythic can her origins seem. Every great thing, be it a nation, a person, even an idea, has to start somewhere. To our ancestors of old, greatness was a sure sign of favour from on high. For the hand of a god must surely have been at work when one of the most influential cities in human history, for better or worse, was born.

Athena
2nd century AD Roman bust  from Velletri

The Olympians had fought a terrible fight for mastery of the Cosmos. Their forefathers and creators of the Universe, the Titans had not yielded their divine grip easily. After so great a struggle, the harmony of the World was worth more than anything to the gods, even to Zeus the Thunderer, King of the gods and Lord of the Sky. Now fidelity was one thing that Zeus the Thunderer knew not, and many a hero of the ancient world owed his existence to the philandering adventures of the god of gods. It was little surprise therefore, when Zeus undertook a clandestine affair with the beautiful Titaness Metis. However, when the Fates prophesied that the child of Metis would be mightier in spirit and wiser in understanding than its father, Zeus the father of gods and men was convulsed with fear. Long ago, his father Kronos had heard similar words, with dire consequences. The Heavens had groaned under the Titanomachy, and could ill afford so ruinous a war for a second time. So Zeus the Thunderer decided on a little evil for a greater good. Weaving his divine powers of transfiguration, the shape of Metis he shifted to that of a common fly, and the god swallowed her whole, so that she may never give birth to this legendary child.

Time passed, but troubles did not for the Lord of Olympus. As the days grew late, a terrible pain struck the god inside. What began as an ache inside his royal head, soon swelled to a pounding agony that would not die. Time soon came when even the Thunder himself, conqueror of Typhon and Heaven could bear the torment no more, and summoned to his side Hephaestus, the god of the forge and weaver of fire. "Take up thy hammer and rend asunder this head that pains me so, lest this torture afflict me for all the ages to come", said Zeus. The lame god of the smith stood dumbstruck by this command - split open the head of Zeus? But the father of gods and men was inexorable, and irresistible. So Hephaestus took up his hammer and tongs, and with a mighty strike, he breached the Divine Crown. A roar of thunder and a flash of light rolled over the skies. Then, in a blur of speed an apparition appeared. From the fissures in the skull of Zeus there leapt a figure, strongly built yet distinctly feminine, agile yet fully armed, wise yet ready for war, a new goddess entered the cosmos. Athena, goddess of wisdom, mistress of stratagem, lady of the spear and patron of heroes.

Around this time, far below on the mortal plain, the tribes of Attica came together under their King, Cecrops. Born of Mother Earth herself, Cecrops taught the Atticans the still young arts of reading and writing, of literature, of burial and brought the institution of marriage to the tribesmen. Civilisation as we know it, was being born. Soon, however, the simple villages of Attica groaned under the advance of the people, and a new home was needed. Under the leadership of their vibrant King, the Atticans set off through the harsh landscape of Attica, where open plains give way to beaten rock. After a time they came to a place in the West, largely flat yet punctuated by towering pinnacles of rock. The sea lay yonder, yet wise Cecrops knew that to build their new city on the shore itself was too dangerous in an era of rampant piracy on the high seas. Away from the shore then, yet near enough for trade, the people set foot upon a mount with a commanding position over the plain and the sea. Here would be founded their new city, and grandiose would it be. But every new city needed a patron god, but who?

Poseidon
The Artemision Bronze

Word reached Olympus of the gathering under Cecrops upon the Mount. Just then,  the Fates declared that the city that would be founded upon that place would rise to a greatness rivalling the best of all Greece. Glory and honour would walk hand in hand to whomsoever should become her patron. A frenzy gripped Mount Olympus, and the all the divine array wondered. Two among them immediately took the floor. Athena, ever ready with sharpened word and thought, leapt to her newborn feet. But Poseidon, god of the sea, shaker of the earth and lord of horses, bowed to few. Even Zeus himself, King of all gods kept a close eye on his ambitious younger brother, for most vexed was Poseidon when he lost the Heavens in the division of the cosmos. Torn between loyalty to his brother, however unruly, and care for his daughter, despite the danger she posed as his successor, Zeus decreed that the people should decide the patron of their city. Immediately, the two deities spirited down from Olympus and made landfall upon the mountain. With a blinding flash and a roar of thunder, the people cowered at the sight of the divine array. Fearful lest they choose one over the other, the people knew not what to do. Cecrops their King, however, decided. Turning to his gods, he declared that the patronage of the new city would belong to the one who presented the greatest gift to it. Poseidon and Athena, uncle and niece, eyed each other, and readied their contest.

The Sea of Olives, Delphi
Photograph taken by the author

Both god and goddess, stood aside the towering pinnacles of the Acropolis, poised for the prize of glory. Poseidon, shaker of the Earth, took the first move. Raising his mighty Trident high into the air, with a rush of godly strength he plunged the three blades into the mountain side. A deafening rumble rippled across the Earth, and the people were thrown to the ground, terrified. There, where the central prong penetrated the summit (a place today commemorated by the Erechtheion), the wounded rock spat forth a spring of water thick with brine. The Emperor of all Oceans granted to the people the gift of the sea itself, and the assurance that one day they would master it. A fabulous gift indeed. Next the virgin goddess stepped forth. The eyes of Athena looked into the souls of all mortals present, and she senses their hopes and fears. Confident, and unyielding, the daughter of Zeus took up her spear and flung it into the mount. The people watched, entranced, for before their eyes the lance began to shift. The wooden shaft lengthened and broadened, from the blade branches sprang forth, rich with the bounty of its dark fruit. To the people Athena gave the gift of the humble olive tree. Poseidon looked on, bemused and anxious.

Athens at her height
Painting by Leo von Klenze

The primordial Athenians looked on the lowly sprig with wonder and amazement, as the goddess instilled some of her divine wisdom in their minds. Cecrops beckoned his people round to cast their vote. Poseidon's gift was mighty indeed, as was his promise. Mastery of the Ocean? 'Tis the dream of empires! A great destiny had been given to them. But that all looked a long way off to the primitive people, as they looked to and fro, and saw naught but barren rock. One citizen splashed some of the water over his face, and recoiled at its salty taste. The people turned to the sapling, Athena's gift. One fellow took a blackened grape from its boughs, and crushed it in his hands, and oil splashed across his palm. Into his mouth he tossed the olive and pleasing was its taste. Seeing the thick and robust trunk too, he saw the greatness of Athena's gift. Poseidon had given them a taste of great nations, but Athena had given them a source of food, of wood and oil, and something they could trade with others. The people sank to their knees with joy, and hurled themselves at the foot of Athena, daughter of Zeus and maiden of Olympus. Poseidon, god of the seas, was infuriated, but his niece had won the day. Cecrops declared Athena the one true patron of their new city. He declared that this place, the Acropolis, would ever be sacred to her. He declared too, that in her honour the city would be named. To the roar of approval from the first Athenians, he named the city. Athens, the glory of Athena...



United Kingdom

The Library of Mythology:
Library of Mythology
(A vast collection of the myths of old Greece, written in ancient times, and a great intro)

United States

The Library of Mythology:
Library of Mythology
(A vast collection of the myths of old Greece, written in ancient times, and a great intro)

Glaucus and Scylla

One of the most timeless aspects of the myths of the ancient world is the sheer humanity of the gods they worshipped. Powerful and wise though they were, they were susceptible to very familiar faults and emotions, and envy is a potent force indeed. Here is the story of one man who discovered the terrible consequences of the envy of a goddess...

Glaucus
Detail of a painting
by Bartholomäus Spranger

There was once a strange cove on the eastern coast of Greece called Anthedon. It was a place men avoided, fearful of a strange power which seemed to radiate from its shores. Isolated it remained, until one day a fisherman happened upon the sheltered beach, weary from a long, exhausting day on the ocean waves. Sweating under the blazing sun, Glaucus hauled his bountiful catch ashore, dragging his nets across the springy grass of a wild meadow. Though a little untamed, and perhaps rather quiet, there was nothing to suggest that the meadow was more special than any other. Soon tired out, Glaucus came to rest in the long grass by the waves, and laid out his nets to dry, as he surveyed the day's catch. It was an impressive sight, a splendid array of the choicest specimens of the high seas. Even more impressive was what followed. For in the moment the fish touched the soft grass, they suddenly quivered. Glaucus stared. Barely a moment later, the nearest fish flopped right over. The fisherman looked on, utterly perplexed. These fish had been in his boat for hours and must have been dead for some time. Glaucus blinked. There was no denying it now, for the whole shoal of his catch was now defiantly leaping its way back to the sea, invigorated by some unseen force. Glaucus looked around for the sign of some god who might be behind this miracle. But there was no other on that isolated cove.

Oceanus
Sculpture by Pietro Bracci, centrepiece
of the Trevi Fountain, Rome

Glaucus looked down, wondering whether there was more to this strange grass than met the eye. Tearing a handful of blades from the swaying meadow, the fisherman chewed them, and the sap flowed into his mouth. Glaucus had barely swallowed a mouthful when a strange feeling overcame him. The burning rays of the sun suddenly seemed to sear his skin. The gentle tide nearby seemed more inviting than ever. A strange shudder within his heart, and Glaucus knew what to do. It seemed so strange to live on land, now he thought of it, especially when the cool waves appeared to almost call out to him. So, bidding a swift farewell to the Earth, Glaucus dived into the azure ocean. What a feeling it was, to glide through the water, with the freedom of a bird in the sky! Deep below the surface, Glaucus was welcomed to his new home by the Titan Oceanus and his consort Tethys, who both ruled over this domain, having escaped the wrath of Zeus by remaining neutral in the War of the Titans (for this story, please click here). Oceanus greeted Glaucus joyfully, and at the Titan's command, the former fisherman was purged of his mortality, embracing the eternal life of a sea god. Nine times the Titan chanted, and in a hundred streams Glaucus was purified. As the thundering torrents rushed over his head in a deluge, Glaucus felt his body begin to change. Where once there was an auburn beard, now there was green, as though seaweed. His shoulders, broader now than ever they had been before, were host to strong new arms, blue as the sea. Glaucus kicked his legs. But there were legs there no more, for in their place was a poweful tail, studded with fins. With a single flick of his new tail, Glaucus could soar through the depths, surrounded with fish more beautiful than any he had seen on his days as a fisherman.

Glaucus beseeches Scylla
Painting by Painting by Laurent de la Hyre

Glaucus rejoiced in the freedom of his new life, revelling in the company of gods. One day, however, whilst powering through the waves where the shores of Sicily and Italy are all but one, Glaucus caught sight of a young maiden reclining in a small rock pool by the ocean's edge. Her name was Scylla, one of the nymphs who came to the aid of those who lose their way at sea. From the moment his eyes saw her, Glaucus was utterly transfixed. Overcome in the heat of the moment, Glaucus came to her, surfacing suddenly. Though he tried to placate her with words which he prayed would make her stay, it was to no avail. Horrified by the creature she saw, Scylla fled in terror to a high crag of rock hanging over the Strait. The nymph eyed him suspiciously, unaware if Glaucus were god or monster. Relentless, Glaucus called out to her, telling the story of how he had once been a humble fisherman, how the Titan of the Ocean had granted him immortality and new life. Glaucus was, however, still recanting his tale when Scylla fled once more. Distraught at her harsh rejection, desperate Glaucus remembered stories he had once heard of a powerful witch who called nearby her home, and set off without delay, praying that she might help him in his plight.

Circe
Painting by John William Waterhouse

Making straight for Aeaea, the island where dwelled the daughter of the Sun god, the Titan Helios, Glaucus found it impossible to cast his thoughts to anything but Scylla and her cruel retreat. Soaring through the Tyrrhenian Sea, Glaucus soon arrived on the island of Aeaea, and made his way to the halls of Circe, whose skills with magic were known the world over. Throwing himself at the witch's feet, Glaucus begged for her pity, releasing his pent up emotions:

" Oh Circe, if spells can hold any sway,
   now open those holy lips to utter a spell! "
               - GLAUCUS PRAYS TO CIRCE


Circe was startled by this impassioned plea, and could not fail to be impressed by Glaucus' devotion. The witch responded by urging Glaucus to forget Scylla, and turn to her instead. Glaucus, horrified, declared that as long as Scylla lived and until the day grass grew on the ocean floor and seaweed rested on the mountaintops, he would always be loyal to Scylla. Circe was wracked by envy that she, a goddess, would be refused, but could not bear to harm Glaucus. Instead she turned her wrath upon innocent Scylla. She assured Glaucus that she would create a potion that would cool Scylla's fire and make her fall for him. Elated, Glaucus thanked the witch and dived back into the sea, eager to see Scylla again.

Circe, however, had cold fury in her heart. She too, could think of nothing but Scylla, but with feelings all too different. Taking the most noxious herbs from the woods, Circe ground the poisons into a drug, laying upon it both curse and malice. Her dark work complete, Circe soared through the Heavens, coming to the pool where Scylla liked to bathe. The nymph herself was on her way, and Circe was swift, pouring  her fell concoction into the calm waters. Where the poison touched the glassy tide, it hissed and bubbled, but soon was tranquil, hiding its evil purpose. Her work done, Circe withdrew just as Scylla arrived on the scene. Gently lowering herself in the water, Scylla found the water pleasantly warm, and soon fell asleep, as Glaucus relentlessly approached.

The Metamorphosis of Scylla
Painting by Rubens

It was a strange, growling noise which awoke Scylla. Still drowsy, she opened one eyelid. With a pang of terror, she saw a monstrous hound snapping near her waist. Almost paralysed with fright, slowly she edged away. But the creature followed her every move. Soon snarling surrounded her, and soon the terrible truth dawned on her - they were her. Circe's magic had fused the monsters to her waist, yet the beasts knew no mind or master other than their own. Circe had transformed Scylla into a ravenous monster, who could not control the six pairs of jaws bound to her. Six pairs of jaws which had a taste for human flesh. After a frantic journey back to be at Scylla's side, the former fisherman was thrown into a pit of despair at what he saw. Realising Circe's treachery, with tears in his eyes, he hurled himself back into the waves, shouting in deranged frustration. What of Scylla? As she lay in her lair, torn with grief, she cursed Circe's name, thinking only of vengeance. Until that day, however, sailors seeking to cross the treacherous Straits of Messina did so at their own peril, for fear of finding more than rapids there...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(A lyrical Roman poem which tells the stories of many myths, including Glaucus and Scylla)

Oxford World's Classics:
Metamorphoses (Oxford World's Classics)
(A more accessible version of the Roman poem, which tells the story of many myths, including Glaucus and Scylla)

United States

Penguin Classics:
Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(A lyrical Roman poem which tells the stories of many myths, including Glaucus and Scylla)

Oxford World's Classics:
Metamorphoses (Oxford World's Classics)
(A more accessible version of the Roman poem, which tells the story of many myths, including Glaucus and Scylla)