Saturday, December 11, 2010

Echo and Narcissus

There have been times in my life wherein I have been so beside myself with grief I could do nothing more but wander. When I was 18 or so I remember pacing the aisles at a bookstore. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just...staring. But in my aimless pacing a print caught my eye. In my utter heartbreak I stumbled upon Echo and Narcissus by John William Waterhouse. Perhaps because her pain seemed to mirror mine, I'm not sure. But I picked it up and bought a book about them that day. I took it home and didn't put the book down, for what seemed like, days. The image of Echo and her myth left me mesmerized, entranced, completely enthralled. I sketched her countless times. But her story, is was captured me so completely.
The story of Echo is a sad one, but not unlike the ones we would expect from greek mythology. If you are opening a mythology book expecting anything but despair you will be disappointed, though Penelope from the Odyssey will at least help you regain some hope.
Zeus, well, he is known for his philandering and...other personality attributes and in the story of Echo this certainly becomes a factor. While Zeus was off gallivanting, Echo would prattle on and on to distract Hera. Echo, who really seemed to love the sound of her voice, did this without a second thought. This will result in her demise. Hera finds out about this trickery, as she usually does, and decides to punish Echo by taking away her voice and only allowing her foolishly repeat the words of another. Hence our the name for the echoing phenomenon. Now this punishment, is surprisingly tame compared to some of the others Hera has doled out, and for much less.
So Echo is off, wandering voiceless when she sees Narcissus. Narcissus, as prophesied by Teiresias, was to live into old age as long as he "never knew himself." He was out hunting stags when she spotted him, and she decided to follow him. She was quite stealthy about it until he finally heard her. He called out but all she could do was repeat his words. When she tried to embrace him he turned her away. She continued to watch him, however. One day he saw his reflection in a pool and became so entranced by his form he couldn't look away. Echo just watched on as he wasted away staring at his own reflection. Echo, all the while, was heartbroken and wasted away herself, until only her voice remained. 
Heart wrenching in all sorts of ways. Here I was; in love with a boy so distant from me in so many ways, he's further away now than he ever was (as he should be I imagine) and I find this. It gave me some sort of...validation. The validation I never received  from him.
There is something cathartic about mythology for me, and I think the same could apply to many others.

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