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Perseus and Medusa

Perseus and Medusa

Super Hero and #MeToo

After exploring prophets, sinners, and saints from the Biblical tradition, it’s time to turn back to the world of Greek mythology. Let’s start with two of its most iconic figures: Perseus and Medusa. Her story resonates today as a #MeToo narrative; his tale reads like the script of a modern superhero film. Greek myths may be older than the Bible, but the themes they carry, such as good versus evil, justice for the wronged, and the quest for hope, are timeless. So let’s dive in.

To give some context, I’ll introduce the two main characters, Perseus and Medusa, before following Perseus through his adventures, from his miraculous birth as the child of one of Zeus’ escapades to his dramatic wedding with Andromeda. The topics we’ll explore are:

The recurring theme: a busy life for our superhero and the eternal struggle between good and evil.

The Main Characters: Perseus and Medusa

Perseus is one of the prominent heroes in Greek mythology. Unlike some other Greek heroes, his strength did not rely solely on brute force but also on inner qualities like courage and determination. He was the son of Zeus, king of the gods, and Danaë, a mortal princess. Perseus is best remembered for slaying Medusa and for rescuing Andromeda from a sea monster.

Medusa, once a beautiful priestess in the temple of Athena, is one of the tragic figures in mythology. She was raped by Poseidon in Athena’s sacred temple. Because the act defiled a holy space, and possibly because Medusa had boasted of her beauty, Athena punished her by transforming her flowing hair into venomous snakes. And from that moment on, anyone who looked directly at Medusa would be turned to stone.

Poseidon, the rapist, went unpunished. It was the victim who bore the consequences. We do not know if Poseidon felt guilt or ever faced the weight of what he had done. What we do know is that Medusa became the embodiment of female suffering, even labeled a monster. Her transformation has come to symbolize the way women are punished or demonized. In today’s world, Medusa’s story is often reinterpreted through the lens of the #MeToo movement, challenging us to consider who the real monster truly was.

Perseus, Roman copy after a Greek original of the 5th century BCE, Marble, height 29cm, Centrale Montemartini, Musei Capitolini, Rome. Medusa (c.1646), Gian Lorenzo Bernini (Italian, 1598 – 1680), Marble, height 68cm, Musei Capitolini, Rome.

Danaë, Perseus’ mother; Zeus, his father

Perseus was born under remarkable and mysterious circumstances. His mother was Danaë, a mortal princess and daughter of Acrisius, the king of Argos. Acrisius, obsessed with control and fearful of fate, had received a chilling prophecy: one day, he would be killed by his own grandson. To stop this from happening, he locked Danaë in a bronze chamber, isolated high in a tower, where no man could reach her.

But the gods, as always in Greek myth, find a way. Zeus, king of the gods, saw Danaë and desired her. Taking the form of a shower of gold, he entered her prison and impregnated her. In time, Danaë gave birth to a son, whom she named Perseus.

When Acrisius discovered the child, he was furious and terrified. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill his own daughter and her infant directly. Instead, he sealed them in a wooden chest and cast them out to sea, leaving their survival to fate. But Zeus watched over them!

The sea carried Danaë and Perseus safely to the island of Seriphos, where a kind fisherman named Dictys took them in. Dictys raised Perseus as his own, and the boy grew into a brave and spirited young man.

(A note from the future: many years later, when Perseus had grown into a man, he took part in the Olympic Games. During a discus throw, his aim went astray and struck down a spectator. That man was none other than King Acrisius, his own grandfather. The prophecy Acrisius was so afraid of was fulfilled, by a tragic accident. But that lies far ahead in the story. For now, we return to the adventures of Perseus as a youth.)

As Perseus matured, he became fiercely protective of his mother. Her beauty had not faded, and it attracted the unwanted attention of many men, including the island’s ruler, King Polydectes. Polydectes was aggressive and arrogant, and he was determined to marry Danaë, whether she agreed or not. Perseus saw through him immediately and did everything he could to protect his mother.

Danaë locked in the tower, Perseus with his mother Danaë drifting away, the fisherman Dictys who found Perseus and his mother, and King Polydectes who will soon start harassing Danë.
Illustration (c.1470) from Raoul Lefèvre (French, 15th Century) “Recoeil des Histoires de Troyes”, 9x12cm, Koninklijke Bibliotheek KB 78 D 48, National Library of the Netherlands, The Hague. For the full page of the manuscript, with text and illustration, click here.

An impossible task: killing Medusa

Frustrated, Polydectes devised a plan to get Perseus out of the way. He announced he was marrying someone else and demanded that all his subjects bring him wedding gifts. Perseus, relieved that his mother wasn’t the bride, promised to give Polydectes whatever he wanted. The king seized the opportunity and asked for something outrageous: the head of Medusa, whose gaze could turn anyone to stone.

Perseus agreed, though he had no idea how he would complete such an impossible task.

Help from Athena and Hermes

To carry out the impossible task of killing Medusa, Perseus received crucial help from two gods: Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Hermes, the swift messenger of the gods.

Athena gave Perseus a highly polished bronze shield. It would allow him to see Medusa’s reflection without looking directly at her. A pretty vital move, since anyone who met her gaze would instantly turn to stone. Hermes provided him with winged sandals, enabling him to fly, and a sharp curved sword.

With Athena’s guidance and Hermes’s gifts, Perseus was ready to face the deadly Medusa. He flew to her, used the mirror-like shield to watch her movements, and without ever meeting her eyes, struck with precision. In one swift motion, he cut off her head, snakes and all.

Death of Medusa and the birth of Pegasus

As Perseus struck off Medusa’s head, something extraordinary happened. From the blood that poured from her neck, a winged horse sprang forth. This was Pegasus, who became Perseus’s loyal companion.

Perseus now carried two powerful tools. One was the head of Medusa, which still had the power to turn anyone who looked at it into stone. The other was Pegasus, the magical horse who could fly. With these, Perseus began his journey home. He planned to return to Seriphos, confront King Polydectes, and reunite with his mother Danaë.

But the way back would not be simple. Like many heroes, Perseus would face new challenges on the road. Each test would reveal more of his courage, his cleverness, and his sense of justice.

Atlas becomes a mountain

On his journey home, Perseus grew tired and stopped to rest in a distant land. This place was ruled by Atlas, a mighty giant who stood guard over a sacred garden. Perseus asked for shelter, explaining that he was the son of Zeus. But Atlas remembered a prophecy that warned him a son of Zeus would one day steal the golden apples from his garden. Fearing the prophecy, Atlas refused to let Perseus stay.

Perseus did not argue. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the head of Medusa. When Atlas looked upon it, he was instantly turned to stone. His great body became part of the earth. His beard and hair turned into forests. His shoulders and arms became ridges and cliffs. His head rose into the sky as a high mountain. This, according to legend, is how the Atlas Mountains in Morocco originated and came to be named after the giant Atlas.

Perseus and Andromeda

As Perseus traveled home, riding the winged horse Pegasus, he flew over the coastline of ancient Ethiopia. There, he saw a young woman chained to the rocks at the edge of the sea. Her name was Andromeda. She had been left as a sacrifice to a sea monster, sent to punish the land for her mother’s pride. Her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, had once claimed that Andromeda was more beautiful than the sea spirits. This angered Poseidon, god of the sea. In revenge, he sent a terrifying monster to attack the coast. The only way to stop the destruction, the people believed, was to offer Andromeda to the creature.

Perseus was struck by Andromeda’s beauty, and he made a promise to save her. As the sea monster rose from the waves, Perseus flew into action. Riding Pegasus, he waited for the perfect moment. Then, at just the right time, he pulled Medusa’s head from his bag. The monster looked…, and instantly turned to stone.

Andromeda’s parents, the king and queen, were filled with gratitude. Perseus asked for Andromeda’s hand in marriage, and she agreed. Together, they would set off for his homeland. But their story was not over yet.

Wedding of Perseus and Andromeda, and Phineas as unwanted guest

After rescuing Andromeda, Perseus was welcomed as a hero. The wedding was quickly arranged, and the royal palace filled with celebration. But not everyone was pleased. At the height of the feast, an angry voice echoed through the hall. It was Phineus, Andromeda’s former fiancé. He stormed in with a group of armed men, furious that the bride had been given to another. He shouted that Andromeda had been promised to him, and that Perseus had stolen her. Tension rose. The joyful feast turned into chaos. Phineus and his followers attacked. Perseus tried to fight them off, but he was badly outnumbered.

Then, as a last resort, Perseus reached for the most fearsome weapon he had: the severed head of Medusa. Holding it aloft, he turned his gaze away. The attackers, caught mid-charge, had no time to look away. One by one, their bodies froze in place. Faces twisted in rage, weapons raised, they turned to cold, silent stone. The room fell quiet. Phineus was no more. The threat was over. The marriage of Perseus and Andromeda could finally begin in peace.

Saving his mother Danaë, and confronting Polydectes

After his adventures abroad, Perseus returned home to the island where he had grown up. But all was not well there. His mother, Danaë, was still being harassed by King Polydectes, who had never given up his attempts to force her into marriage. She had taken refuge in the temple of Athena, hiding from the king’s relentless advances.

Perseus went straight to the palace and confronted Polydectes. Without a word, Perseus pulled the head of Medusa from his bag. Polydectes and his supporters, unprepared and arrogant, looked straight at it and turned to stone. With justice served and his mother finally safe, Perseus restored peace to the island.

Medusa’s head on Athena’s shield

After the sea monster was killed, Andromeda and his mother Danaë saved, and justice delivered, Perseus fulfilled one last promise. He returned the head of Medusa to Athena, the goddess who had guided him on his quest.

Athena took the powerful object and placed it at the center of her shield. From then on, Medusa’s stony gaze would serve to protect. It would turn away evil, and remind all who saw it of the strength found in wisdom and courage.

Closing Notes

So what do we make of Perseus? Like Daniel from the biblical tradition, he is not a hero of brute force but of cleverness, courage, and integrity. Both are young men who rise to great challenges with the help of higher powers, whether divine faith or Olympian favor. They confront arrogant rulers, monsters in both human and mythic form, and they stand up for those who cannot protect themselves.

The stories of Perseus are older than the Bible, mythological in form, but in essence they tell the same tale: that justice can prevail, and that even in dark times, there is hope for the oppressed. Daniel’s story, though biblical in origin, mirrors these ancient myths in spirit. Both narratives teach us that the powerful who act with pride and hubris will be humbled. Both reveal a world where integrity matters more than might. And both reassure us that in the end, with the help of God or the gods, peace can be restored.

Bonus: Versace!

Now from myth to Milan! The famous fashion house Versace uses the head of Medusa as its logo, a direct nod to Greek mythology. The choice wasn’t random. As children, the Versace siblings played among ancient ruins near Reggio Calabria in southern Italy. There, on an old mosaic floor, they encountered the image of Medusa.

Gianni Versace chose Medusa as the brand’s emblem. In myth, those who looked at her were turned to stone. In fashion, he hoped those who looked at his designs would be equally spellbound and captivated. Unlike Perseus, who avoided her gaze, we are drawn to it willingly, mesmerized. Carefully of course, because style and beauty can petrify!

Silenus and Bacchus (c.1572) shine again in the Uffizi.

Silenus and Bacchus (c.1572) shine again in the Uffizi.

Jacopo Del Duca aka Jacopo Siciliano (Italian, 1520 – 1604)

Le Gallerie degli Uffize, Florence

After a complex restoration which lasted over six months, the bronze sculpture and one of the leading lights of the Verone Corridor on the first floor of the Uffizi Gallery is glowing again: we are talking about the large statue of Silenus with Bacchus as a Child by the sixteenth-century artist Jacopo del Duca.

Silenus with Bacchus as a Child (c.1572), Jacopo Del Duca aka Jacopo Siciliano (Italian, 1520 – 1604), Bronze, height 187cm, Le Gallerie degli Uffizi, Florence.

The restoration has been the first recovery intervention carried out on the statue in modern times. It had become necessary because of the excessive darkening of the bronze caused by many retouchings and corrections made on the surface of the Silenus over the centuries. Also, its base needed to be reinforced because of the presence of microcracks in several points.

Silenus with the Infant Bacchus, marble statue created in Rome around 1st century AD after a Greek bronze original by Lysippos from around 300 BC, discovered in Rome in the Gardens of Sallustius around 1566, height 198cm, Louvre, Paris.

The subject derives from a marble statue, now preserved in the Louvre, which is a Roman copy from the Imperial era after a bronze dating back to the late 4th century BC allegedly by the Greek sculptor Lysippos. The Louvre Silenus (the so-called Borghese Silenus) was found in the second half of the sixteenth century in a garden in Rome. The bronze copy of the Uffizi, was commissioned by Ferdinando I de’ Medici. In 1588, the Grand Duke placed the sculpture inside the gallery of Villa Medici in Rome and later moved in front of the villa’s portico. In 1787, Silenus with Bacchus as a Child was brought to Florence and displayed in the Uffizi Gallery, where it’s still found today.

In Greek mythology, Silenus was a companion and tutor to the wine god Bacchus (or in Greek Dionysus). A notorious consumer of wine, he was usually drunk and had to be supported by satyrs or carried by a donkey. But Silenus was also wise prophet and the bearer of terrible wisdom; he was described as the oldest, wisest and most drunken of the followers of Bacchus.

Drunken Silenus (c.1620), Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640), 212x215cm, Alte Pinakothek, München.

When Bacchus was born, Hermes – the messenger of the gods – took the infant and gave it to Silenus, then a minor forest god who loved getting drunk and making wine. Silenus took young Bacchus under his care and raised the child which grew to become one of the most important gods of Greek mythology. Eventually, Silenus, from a foster father became a follower of Bacchus and he became inextricably linked with the wine god.

The Thriumph of Silenus (c.1625), Gerrit van Honthorst (Netherlandish, 1590 – 1656), 209x272cm, Palais des Beaux-Arts, Lille, France.
  • More about the restoration, click here.
  • Some info about visiting the Uffizi in Florence, click here.
The King Drinks

The King Drinks

“The Three Kings and The Bean King”

In the Low Countries, the Feast of Epiphany, or Twelfth Night of Christmas, is known as Drie Koningen (Three Kings). The Christian holiday is traditionally celebrated on January 6th with a festive meal at which friends and relatives gather to eat, drink and be merry. Drie Koningen originated as a medieval church holiday with public performances and festivals reenacting the biblical story of the Three Kings from the East who follow a bright star to find and do homage to the newborn Jesus. Although public performances had become outmoded in the 17th century, Twelfth Night continued to be celebrated in taverns and homes.

The king was chosen by chance, either by finding a bean or a coin in a cake baked for the occasion or by lottery, as is evident here from the two slips of paper on the floor and the one stuck on the hat of the young man seated at back.
The King Drinks or Peasants Celebrating Twelfth Night (1635), David Teniers the Younger (Flemish, 1610 – 1690), 47x70cm, National Gallery, Washington.

It was a secular way to celebrate the Catholic Epiphany; the Protestants did disapprove of these Catholic festivities, but could not prohibit the feast staying popular indoors and within the family. The evening began with the proclamation of a “King,” played by the eldest member of the company or chosen by lot. This was done by drawing paper lots or by the concealment of a bean or coin in a large cake, and the person in whose portion it was found would preside over the festivities as “King” or “Bean King.” He put on a fake crown, chose a queen, and appointed a staff of courtiers – from minister to jester.

The Latin inscription as translated “None is closer to the fool than the drunkard”, lends the degenerate carryings-on a moralistic undertone.
The Feast of the Bean King (c.1642), Jacob Jordaens (Flemish, 1593 – 1678) 242×300cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Royal duties were extremely simple: When the King raised a glass of wine or beer, everyone had to exclaim in chorus: “The King Drinks!” as an appeal to the participants in the feast to follow the King’s example. And that happened often enough! Such feasts dragged on the whole night.

The inscription above the King reads: “In Een Vry Gelach, Ist Goet Gast Syn”, which translates as “It’s great to be a guest at a free drinking party”. The King had to pay the bill at the end of the evening.
The King Drinks (c.1639), Jacob Jordaens (Flemish, 1593 – 1678), 156×210 cm, Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels.

The “King” was not necessarily meant to represent one of the Three Kings, but might refer to the misrule of Herod, who is mocked as a drunkard and as a reminder of his all too excessive indulgence.

A Twelfth Night Feast, The King Drinks (c.1661), Jan Steen (Dutch, 1626 – 1679), 40x55cm, Royal Collection Trust, London.
The King Drinks (c.1655), David Teniers the Younger (Flemish, 1610 – 1690), 58x70cm, Prado, Madrid.
January, with “The King Drinks” scene, and with skating in the background (1629), from a series with the 12 months.
Crispijn van de Passe I, engraver (Dutch, c.1564 – 1637) after design by Maerten de Vos (Flemish, 1532 – 1603), engraving, 12cm, Centraal Museum, Utrecht.
The King Drinks (c.164), Gabriël Metsu (Dutch, 1629 – 1667), 81x98cm, Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, Alte Pinakothek, München.
Twelfth Night (c.1665), Jan Steen (Dutch, 1626 – 1679) 41x49cm, Nasjonalmuseet for kunst, arkitektur og design, The Fine Art Collections, Oslo.
King’s Letter for a Twelfth Night celebration, with 16 lottery pieces for the various roles, King, Queen, Cook, Jester, Secretary, Singer, etc.
Publisher Widow Hendrik van der Putte, Amsterdam, c.1766, 31×22cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.