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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!

Vertumnus and Pomona

Vertumnus and Pomona

“God of Seasons and Goddess of Orchards”

The story of Vertumnus and Pomona comes from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, a Latin narrative poem from the year 8 CE. Vertumnus, the God of the Seasons, disguised himself as a talkative old woman and attempted to seduce the reclusive Pomona, the Goddess of Orchards. When Vertumnus approached Pomona in the form of an old woman, in her garden was an elm tree with a vine growing around its trunk. The old woman interpreted this as a symbol of marital union. In his disguise of the old spinster, he sang the praises of love and of Vertumnus. The trick worked, for when Vertumnus dropped his disguise and took on his own appearance of handsome young man, his good looks won Pomona over and she agreed to become his wife.

Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 623-636: “Pomona tended the gardens more skilfully or was more devoted to the orchards’ care than anyone else. She loved the fields and the branches loaded with ripe apples. She carried a curved pruning knife, with which she cut back the luxuriant growth, and lopped the branches spreading out here and there. This was her love, and her passion, and she had no longing for desire. She enclosed herself in an orchard, and denied an entrance, and shunned men.
Vertumnus and Pomona (1617), Jan Tengnagel (Dutch, 1584 – 1635), Oil on Copper, 21x29cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 653-658: “Once, Vertumnus covered his head with a coloured scarf, and leaning on a staff, with a wig of grey hair, imitated an old woman. He entered the well-tended garden, and admiring the fruit, said: ‘You are so lovely’, and gave Pomona a few congratulatory kisses, as no true old woman would have done.”
Vertumnus and Pomona (c.1638), attributed to Ferdinand Bol (Dutch, 1616 – 1680), 18x22cm, Pen and brown ink on paper, Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton NJ. Auctioned in 2007 at Christie’s New York; purchased Princeton University Art Museum for USD 144,000.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 659-668: “Vertumnus, dressed at the old lady, pointed at the branches bending, weighed down with autumn fruit. There was a elm tree, covered with gleaming bunches of grapes. After he had praised the tree, and its companion vine, he said: ‘But if that tree stood there, unmated, without its vine, it would not be sought after for more than its leaves, and the vine also, which is joined to and rests on the elm, would lie on the ground, if it were not married to it, and leaning on it. But you, Pomona, are not moved by this tree’s example, and you shun marriage, and do not care to be wed. I wish that you did!”
Vertumnus and Pomona (c.1630), Paulus Moreelse (Dutch, 1571 – 1638), 114x130cm, Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, Rotterdam.
Vertumnus continued seducing Pomona with sweet words. Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 672-692: “Even now a thousand men and the gods and demi-gods want you, Pomona, though you shun them and turn them away. But if you are wise, if you want to marry well, and listen to this old woman, that loves you more than you think, more than them all, reject their vulgar offers, and choose Vertumnus to share your bed! You have my assurance as well: he is not better known to himself than he is to me: he does not wander here and there in the wide world: he lives on his own in this place: and he does not love the latest girl he has seen, as most of your suitors do. You will be his first love, and you will be his last, and he will devote his life only to you. And then he is young, is blessed with natural charm. Besides, that which you love the same, those apples you cherish, he is the first to have, and with joy holds your gifts in his hand! But he does not desire now the fruit of your trees, or the sweet juice of your herbs: he desires nothing but you. Take pity on his ardour, and believe that he, who seeks you, is begging you, in person, through my mouth.”
Vertumnus and Pomona (c. 1749), François Boucher (French, 1703 – 1770), 86x135cm, Columbus Museum of Art, Columbus, Ohio.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 761-764: “Remember all this, Pomona of mine: put aside, I beg you, reluctant pride, and yield to your lover. Then the frost will not sear your apples in the bud, nor the storm winds scatter them in flower.”
Vertumnus and Pomona (1613), Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), 90×150cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterd
am.
Rubens chose to depict the moment when, having removed his disguise, Vertumnus declares his love to Pomona. On the left, the old lady’s stick, and Vertumnus’ old-lady’s-veil is just sliding off his head. Pomona tries to resist a bit still, but will now fall in love, and they will be together happily ever after.
Vertumnus and Pomona (c.1636), Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640), 27x38cm, Prado, Madrid.
Pomona finally falls in love with the beautiful Vertumnus, who according to Ovid looks like the sun so beautiful: see his sunray-style of hair on this engraving. And Pomona’s sickle is safely on the ground now. Read Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book XIV, verse 765-771: “When Vertumnus, the god, disguised in the shape of the old woman, had spoken, but to no effect, he went back to being a youth, and threw off the dress of an old woman, and appeared to Pomona, in the glowing likeness of the sun. Pomona, captivated by the form of Vertumnus, felt a mutual passion.”
Vertumnus and Pomona (1605), engraving by Jan Saenredam (Netherlandish, 1565 – 1607) after design by Cornelis Cornelisz. van Haarlem (Netherlandish, 1562 – 1638), 26x22cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
On this engraving the whole story together in two scenes: Vertumnus disguised as the old lady speaks with Pomona, and Vertumnus and Pomona embracing each other in the background on the right.
Vertumnus and Pomona (1605), engraving by Jan Saenredam (Dutch, 1565 – 1607) after design by Abraham Bloemaert (Dutch, 1564 – 1651), 49×38cm, Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, CT.
Vertumnus, from the Pastoral Gods series (1565), Engraver Cornelis Cort (Dutch, c.1533 – 1578), after design by Frans Floris the Elder (Flemish, 1519 – 1570), Publisher Hieronymus Cock (Flemish, 1518 – 1570), Engraving, 29x22cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
This portrait painted by Arcimboldo is Vertumnus, as a glorified representation of Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II. As Vertumnus was the God of the Seasons, all four seasons are represented in the portrait using corresponding fruits and vegetables. Some of the fruits and vegetables represented, such as corn, were exotic at the time in Europe. The elements of this allegorical portrait stand for the power of Emperor Rudolf and the prosperity in the domains he ruled.
Portrait of Rudolf II as Vertumnus (1591), Giuseppe Arcimboldo (Italian, 1526 – 1593) 70x58cm, Skoklosters Slott, Skokloster, Sweden.
Pomona, from the Pastoral Nymphs and Goddesses series (1564), Engraver Cornelis Cort (Dutch, c.1533 – 1578), after design by Frans Floris the Elder (Flemish, 1519 – 1570), Publisher Hieronymus Cock (Flemish, 1518 – 1570), Engraving, 27x19cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Pomona encircled by a garland of fruit (17th Century), Studio of Frans Snyders (Flemish, 1579 – 1657), 203x158cm, latest Christies London 2010.

Ovid, Metamorphoses, translated by A. S. Kline.