others’ lives. They clutch at her fine
chiton
(when she is wearing one) but as she passes, the scent she leaves on the air can carry the cloying sweetness of decay.
Also hanging on to Aphrodite’s skirts is her wounding son Eros. WhenAphrodite cannot be there herself with Helen and Paris she sends this spiky spawn in her place. With his beating wings fanning the flames of passion, Eros commits Paris to a febrile death:
‘Thou wilt bring conflagration back with thee! How great the flames thou seekest over these waters, thou dost not know!’ A truthful prophetess was she; I have found the fires of which she spoke, and flames of fierce love rage in my helpless breast!
9
Authors continually played on Helen’s fervid nature. Her beauty sears. It lights a touch-paper, it sparks the infernal abandon of sex. Ovid’s poem
Heroides
16 is profligate in its use of inflammatory language. Paris declares he is ‘
on fire with love
’. Misunderstanding Hecuba’s prophecy at his own birth he muses: ‘
One of the seers sang that Ilion would burn with the fires of Paris – that was the torch of my heart, as now has come to pass!
’ He tells Helen: ‘
Like a great queen you will make your progress through the Dardanian towns, and the common crowd will think a new goddess come to earth; wherever you advance your steps, flames will consume the cinnamon, and the slain victim will strike the bloody earth
.’ 10
There was duplicity in all this fiery talk. Fire gave light and warmth and comfort, but it was also perilous – one of the greatest hazards of the ancient world. The archaeological record shows that domestic, military and natural infernos were by far the most common agents of destruction. ‘
Paris himself is said to have burned at the sight of Helen naked, when she rose from the bed of Menelaus
.’ 11 The ancients chose their words carefully – consumption in a sexual conflagration was thrilling and equivocal. Beautiful Helen, allied with Aphrodite and Eros, delights and she destroys.
It would take four hundred centuries or so for Greek Eros to become Roman Cupid – a cheeky, impish little
putto
, destined to pierce hearts with his arrows of love on mawkish Valentine cards. For the Greeks, particularly the early Greeks, Eros, born out of chaos, is something far more pernicious – forget the cute, plump little baby and think instead of a malevolent, rangy boy. For the Ancient Greeks Aphrodite and Eros catalyse a crazed, keening frenzy for lust and lust for frenzy.
Eros was well taught by his mother. In ancient Greek literature he consumes flesh and spirit; he can invade like a virus, he can corrode like a poisonous chemical. 12 Socrates (if we believe he was faithfully represented by his interpreters) was equally imaginative in his description of the effectsof love. For him, love’s kisses resembled the bite of a venomous spider – worse in fact, since Eros 13 did not need physical contact between two organisms to start his poisonous work. 14 Not only does Eros destroy, he also emasculates. Hesiod’s articulation of Eros’ power has close parallels with the impotence of the moment of death. Eros is ‘
lusimeles
’: he who unbinds, who loosens, who breaks the limbs. 15
The Greeks delighted in the subtleties of language, in the power of words. Alcman, the poet who gave those young Spartan girls such sensuous lines to sing, such rhythms to dance to, sees women as an even more powerful agent of dissolution than death itself. ‘By the desire that loosens the limbs [
lusimeles
], she [a woman] has a gaze that is more liquefying [
takeros
] than Hypnos (sleep) or Thanatos (death).’ 16 Odysseus’ swineherd Eumaios says of Helen ‘
she loosed the knees of many men
’.
Aphrodite was a primal creature, and when men loved women like Helen, they were embracing a murky, primordial power. Aphrodite was wild in all senses of the word 17 and since Helen was a city girl, as she served Aphrodite, she brought that
chiton
(when she is wearing one) but as she passes, the scent she leaves on the air can carry the cloying sweetness of decay.
Also hanging on to Aphrodite’s skirts is her wounding son Eros. WhenAphrodite cannot be there herself with Helen and Paris she sends this spiky spawn in her place. With his beating wings fanning the flames of passion, Eros commits Paris to a febrile death:
‘Thou wilt bring conflagration back with thee! How great the flames thou seekest over these waters, thou dost not know!’ A truthful prophetess was she; I have found the fires of which she spoke, and flames of fierce love rage in my helpless breast!
9
Authors continually played on Helen’s fervid nature. Her beauty sears. It lights a touch-paper, it sparks the infernal abandon of sex. Ovid’s poem
Heroides
16 is profligate in its use of inflammatory language. Paris declares he is ‘
on fire with love
’. Misunderstanding Hecuba’s prophecy at his own birth he muses: ‘
One of the seers sang that Ilion would burn with the fires of Paris – that was the torch of my heart, as now has come to pass!
’ He tells Helen: ‘
Like a great queen you will make your progress through the Dardanian towns, and the common crowd will think a new goddess come to earth; wherever you advance your steps, flames will consume the cinnamon, and the slain victim will strike the bloody earth
.’ 10
There was duplicity in all this fiery talk. Fire gave light and warmth and comfort, but it was also perilous – one of the greatest hazards of the ancient world. The archaeological record shows that domestic, military and natural infernos were by far the most common agents of destruction. ‘
Paris himself is said to have burned at the sight of Helen naked, when she rose from the bed of Menelaus
.’ 11 The ancients chose their words carefully – consumption in a sexual conflagration was thrilling and equivocal. Beautiful Helen, allied with Aphrodite and Eros, delights and she destroys.
It would take four hundred centuries or so for Greek Eros to become Roman Cupid – a cheeky, impish little
putto
, destined to pierce hearts with his arrows of love on mawkish Valentine cards. For the Greeks, particularly the early Greeks, Eros, born out of chaos, is something far more pernicious – forget the cute, plump little baby and think instead of a malevolent, rangy boy. For the Ancient Greeks Aphrodite and Eros catalyse a crazed, keening frenzy for lust and lust for frenzy.
Eros was well taught by his mother. In ancient Greek literature he consumes flesh and spirit; he can invade like a virus, he can corrode like a poisonous chemical. 12 Socrates (if we believe he was faithfully represented by his interpreters) was equally imaginative in his description of the effectsof love. For him, love’s kisses resembled the bite of a venomous spider – worse in fact, since Eros 13 did not need physical contact between two organisms to start his poisonous work. 14 Not only does Eros destroy, he also emasculates. Hesiod’s articulation of Eros’ power has close parallels with the impotence of the moment of death. Eros is ‘
lusimeles
’: he who unbinds, who loosens, who breaks the limbs. 15
The Greeks delighted in the subtleties of language, in the power of words. Alcman, the poet who gave those young Spartan girls such sensuous lines to sing, such rhythms to dance to, sees women as an even more powerful agent of dissolution than death itself. ‘By the desire that loosens the limbs [
lusimeles
], she [a woman] has a gaze that is more liquefying [
takeros
] than Hypnos (sleep) or Thanatos (death).’ 16 Odysseus’ swineherd Eumaios says of Helen ‘
she loosed the knees of many men
’.
Aphrodite was a primal creature, and when men loved women like Helen, they were embracing a murky, primordial power. Aphrodite was wild in all senses of the word 17 and since Helen was a city girl, as she served Aphrodite, she brought that
Similar Books
