MEDUSA

öjfmeousA
/ ^ S O L V I N G THE MYSTERY OF THE GORGON

Stephen R. Wilk

OXJORD
U N I V E R S I T Y PRESS

2000
OXPORD
U N I V E R S I T Y PRESS

Oxford New York

Athens Auckland Bangkok Bogota Buenos Aires Calcutta
Cape Town Chennai Dar es Salaam Delhi Florence Hong Kong Istanbul
Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Mumbai
Nairobi Paris Sâo Paulo Singapore Taipei Tokyo Toronto Warsaw

and associated companies in

Berlin Ibadan

Copyright © 2000 by Stephen R. Wilk

Published by Oxford University Press, Inc.

198 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016

Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press

All rights rese rved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
electronic, mcchanicai, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without the prior permission of Oxford University Press.

Library of Congress Cataîoging-in-Publication Data

Wilk, Stephen R.
Medusa : solving the mystery of the gorgon / Stephen R. Wilk.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-19-512431 6
i. Medusa (Greek mythology). I. Title.
BL820.M38W55 1999
292.1'3—dc2i 99-10739

"The Muse as Medusa" © 1971 by May Sarton, from Collected Poems, 1930-1993
was reprinted by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
"Eve Meets Medusa" from Gardens of Eden: Poems by Michelene Wandor
(New York; Ran do m-Century, 1990) was reprinted by permission from the publisher.

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 1 i

Printed in the United Spates of America

on acid free paper
 ACKooo)Let>çcneiycs

IT is IRONIC THAT, although writing a book is a phenomenally antisocial ac-

tivity, the result of hours in the library or hunched over a computer keyboard,
the author still finds himself indebted to a huge number of people. Part of the
reward you get for all the effort of putting together a book like this is that it
gives you a legitimate excuse for elbowing your way into the affairs of people
you would otherwise never get to meet. The oddball trajectory of this book
shows just how wide a range of people and specialties you can encounter.
Classical scholars and museum curators, forensic scientists and doctors, ani-
mal behaviorists and architects, motion picture aficionados, astronomers, en-
tomologists, artists, and theologians. It has been an interesting journey. I am
immensely grateful to those who talked with me, suggested ideas, offered ar-
ticles or illustrations, and expressed curiosity about my theses. My including
their names in this list does not mean that they agree with any or all of my
ideas. Some expressed skepticism about the possibilities 1 raised, which is as it
should be.
First and foremost, I want to thank my wife, Jill Renee Silvester, who put up
with my frequent disappearances into the den with a stack of books, not to
mention my trips to libraries and conventions. She was also my best critic, pro-
nouncing the first draft of this book as dry as a thesis. "No one will read it," she
declared. Suitably chastened, I rewrote it completely, casting it in a more fa-
miliar style. You have her to thank that this book is not an involved recitation
of facts, heavily larded with footnotes.
I also thank and apologize to Carolyn Renee, my daughter, who arrived in
the middle of rewrites. I have to thank my parents, Joseph and Mary Wilk, for
too many things to mention. And I thank my sister, Cynthia Wilk, for many
small services and for filling my house with gargoyles. And I note my debt to
 vi Acknowledgments

Maggie and Midnight, our cats, w h o kept me company in my self-imposed ex-

ile and w h o served as test subjects in my private researches on the usefulness
of gargoyles and daruma dolls.
I especially want to thank Professor Jerome Y. Lettvin of the Massachusetts
Institute of Technology. It was his 1978 article ' T h e Gorgon's Eye" that pro-
pelled me into what I thought would be a short article of my own, but which
turned into this book. After I had started writing I looked him up and spent
many hours discussing his own work on octopodes. He critiqued the relevant
portions of Chapters 5 through 7 so that I did not misrepresent him. Again, I
emphasize that any mistakes and all harebrained speculation is due to me.
I owe thanks to Professor Emily Erwin Culpepper o f Redwood College,
w h o allowed me to quote generously from her article and her thesis. Professor
Sarolta Takacs of the Classics Department at Harvard University offered much
o f her valuable time to discuss some of my ideas with me and to suggest fur-
ther directions for research.
Yd like to thank my employer, Stephen D. Fantone, president of Optikos
Corporation in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He allowed me to use the facilities
at Optikos for printing out my manuscript and put me in touch with some use-
ful resources.
Ron and Ann Tanguay both gave assistance. Ron published the first article
I wrote on the astronomical significance o f the myth of Medusa in his maga-
zine, Double Star Observer, and answered some unusual questions. Ann was able
to help with library issues.
David Mruz, former editor of journals on animation art, was able to get me
information on the elusive film Metamorphoses, going so far as to locate a video
copy. He also mailed me a copy of the Twilig/it Zone magazine with the Gorgon
story
Professor Ronald Prokopy of the University of Massachusetts at Amherst
and Professor Michael J. Conover of Utah State University both sent me copies
of their articles on bird deterrents.
I'd like to thank Professors Mary Valentis and Anne Devane of the State
University of New York at Albany for letting me quote from their book Female
Rage. Professor Jane Caputi of the University of New Mexico discussed her book
Gossips, Gorgoru", and Crones: The Fates of the Earth over the telephone with me.
Elizabeth Harding discussed Kali with me and sent me literature on her or-
ganization in California. Kali worship is alive and well, in the United States as
well as in India. I hope my theories in this book do not offend devotees. It seems
to me that my interpretations are not inconsistent with ideas expressed by be-
lievers, but I am on the outside looking in.
I owe great thanks to Janet Mattei and the American Association of Variable
Stars Observers (AAVSO) in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Not only did they give
me a forum to express my astronomical theories at their annual meeting, but
they published my article in their journal. They also let me have free run o f
their extensive library. A A V S O is always looking for members. If you are in-
trigued by the idea of observing variable stars, write to them at 25 Birch St.,
Cambridge, MA 02138 USA; (617) 354-0484.
 Acknowledgments vii

I want to thank Professor James T. Costa of Western Carolina University for

his help in obtaining the illustration on sawworm larvae and for telephone dis-
cussions.
Professor O w e n Gingerich of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astro-
physics provided the illustration from al-Sufi. His name is legendary, and I
thank him for loaning me his original photograph. 1 note that he was some-
what dubious of my thesis but was interested enough to wish to see the book.
I hope that I have not made any major errors in the astronomical chapters.
Doctor William H. Hartmann of the American Board of Pathology helped
me to obtain information and put me in touch with other people w h o m I must
acknowledge without naming. I understand that their profession attracts the
morbid, whose attentions they do not want to encourage.
I want to thank Donald Trombino of the Museum of Arts and Sciences in
Deltona, Florida, for providing the illustration of Rahu. My thanks to Hilary
Mitchell for the astronomical illustrations.
I am grateful to D C Comics for permission to reproduce the cover of the
Superman comic. I must note, however, that the account of the development
of the character of Superman I give here has not been read or approved by
them. I stand by m y interpretation, even where there are deviations from Les
Daniels's recently published Superman: The Complete History.
I hope with this b o o k to lift the Curse of the Gorgon. In the course of re-
searching it I have found that three people (at least) had announced that they
would shortly be publishing books on the topic—books that never did get pub-
lished. Jerome Lettvin, Thalia H o w e /Feldman, and Emily Erwin Culpepper
announced that they would extend their articles into full-length works that, for
some reason, never materialized. With this work I hope that their ideas will at
last reach a broader audience.
 corrcenrs
PART I THE MYSTERY

1 The Nature of Myth 3

2 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 17

3 The Gorgon in Art 31

4 Parallels from Around the World 55

5 Explanations 87

PART II THE SOLUTION

6 Mira and Algol 105

7 T h e Surrounding Sky 129

8 The Face on the Shield 145

9 Gorgons and Gargoyles 161

10 What the Gorgon Really Was 183

11 The Gorgon Today 193

12 Synthesis 225

Appendix 239

Notes 243

References 251

Index 263
PART J: The CDYST6RY
 1
xhe PAixiRe of cnvcb

I have made a study of this and several other medusas

and, hence, am able to tell you a little about them.
— Charles G. Finney,
The Greta of Or. Lao, 1935

R E C E N T L Y , T H E R E HAS BBEN A r e s u r g e n c e o f i n t e r e s t in m y t h o l o g y as t h e
baby boom generation reaches middle age and begins to ponder its place in
the universe. Robert Bly s Iron John and Clarissa Estes s Women Who Run with
the Wolves use myths to help modern men and women orient themselves.
Mythologist Joseph Campbell has undergone an apocolocyntosis and has, like
many of his subjects, become deified. His monumental series The Masks of God
and The Hero with a Thousand Faces dominate the mythology shelves at libraries
and bookstores. His lectures are available on audiotape, and Bill Moyers inter-
views him on video. The television series Northern Exposure adapted classic
myths in new and interesting forms. Disney studios released an animated (and
highly modified) version of the Hercules story for the motion picture screen.
Director Sam Raimi has produced television series based on Hercules and
Sinbad, using his characteristic smash-cut editing style, mixed with jarringly
modern plots and dialogue and leavened with dollops of stunning computer
animation. In today s world, myths arc important—or at least interesting.
Myths are the stories that people tell—and that are told and retold so often
that everyone knows them. Their plots and features are so well known that no
more than a quote or a description is necessary to invoke the whole story in
people's minds:
• Pe-Fi-Fo-Fum
» A suit o f Lincoln g r e e n
• Shot an apple from his sons head
• Pulled the sword out of the stone
• T w e l v e labors
• G o l d e n fleece

3
 4 The Mystery

Wmûmm «lotit hev day

i.i The Gorgon is so familiar that Gary Larson doesn't have to explain what it is for his readers
to get the joke. The Far Side © 19SJ FARWORKS, Inc. Used by permission of Universal Press
Syndicate. All rights reserved.

The titles and characters of these myths become bywords and proverbs.
They form a commonly understood background to which anyone in the cul-
ture can refer and expect to be understood. Stories that important must fulfill
some deep needs—they teach important things or are an essential part of a peo-
ple's religions, or of their pasts. And in addition, they are vastly entertaining.
I do not attempt here to distinguish between the shades of meaning of myth
and legend and folktale. The boundaries between these different forms are neb-
ulous. I except from the definition works that are clearly the result of a single
mind. The Golden A « of Apuleius, despite its use of mythological characters
and elements, is clearly an original work, an ancient fantastical novel. So, too,
are the lost works o f Dionysius Skytobrachion (which nevertheless continue
to influence the ongoing development of the myth of the Gorgon). In contrast,
the works of Homer and of Ovid are, despite their careful arrangement and
original styles, clearly retellings of established, traditional stories.
People are never content simply to let such stories be. Even the ancient
world saw attempts to explain features of the myths. In modern times the in-
terpreters have increased in number. Myths are seen as historical chronicles,
psychological records, attempts at scientific explanation, and linguistic exer-
cises. Some of the more outrageous interpretations—those that explain the
myths as evidence of contact with extraterrestrials, or of lost sciences and civ-
ilizations, or of ancient planetary cataclysms—give us, I think, better glimpses
of modern minds than of ancient ones.
 The Nature of Myth 5

The temptation to interpret myths is irresistible, partly because it seems as

if any stories so long-lived must have some elements of truth behind them, and
partly because there are cases in which an interesting interpretation has, in fact,
been found to be true. Heinrich Schliemann believed that the legends of the
Trojan War referred to a real event—and he found the remains of Troy Part of
the problem with interpreting myths is that different myths, or different parts
of the same myth, may fit into very different niches.
Consider the myth of Phryxus. W h o , you may ask, is Phryxus? His story is
unfamiliar, yet it contains as many memorable elements as the story of Perseus
and Medusa. For some reason it has not achieved the same universal modern
recognition.
Phryxus was the son of Athamas, king of Boeotia, and Nephele ("Cloud"),
a w o m a n with a very interesting past. Z e u s created her from vapor to be a du-
plicate of his wife, Hera, the queen of the gods. She was intended as a decoy
to deceive a would-be seducer, Ixion. Nephele served her purpose well, and
Ixion was caught and punished by Zeus. Afterward, however, Zeus had no use
for the cloud-woman. Lacking a purpose, Nephele wandered the halls of
Olympus, until finally Hera ordered Athamas to marry her.
Besides Phryxus, Nephele and Athamas had another son, Leucon, and a
daughter, Helle. Despite their apparently thriving family life, relations between
Athamas and Nephele were strained, as well they might be in a forced marriage
between a hero and a cloud. Athamas fell in love with Ino, the mortal daugh-
ter of King Cadmus, and the t w o had an affair resulting in two sons, Learchus
and Melicertes.
Nephele learned of the adultery and retreated to Olympus to tell Hera, w h o
put a curse on the house of Athamas. Ino retaliated by arranging for the crops
to fail and by bribing an oracle to declare that the only remedy was to sacrifice
Nephele's son, Phryxus.
Just as the people were preparing to sacrifice Phryxus and his sister Helle,
Nephele provided magical aid in the form of a ram with a golden fleece.
Phryxus and Helle climbed upon its back, and the ram bore them away across
the straits to Asia Minor (modern Turkey). Partway across, Helle lost her grip
and fell into the straits, which are now called the Hellespont in her m e m o r y
Phryxus clung on and was borne to the land of Colchis in present-day Turkey,
where he sacrificed the ram to Zeus. Its golden fleece was hung upon a tree
and guarded by a serpent, later to become the object of the famous quest by
Jason and the Argonauts.
This brief story illustrates many of the different facets of myth. In the first
place, it is more concerned with familial relationships than it is with fabulous
elements. To the Greeks, it was as important that Phryxus was the son of the
king of Boeotia and Hera's vaporous double as that he was saved by a golden
ram. It also shows how interrelated many of the stories are—references in this
one bind the tragedy of the house of Athamas to the glory of Cadmus and the
founding of Thebes, to the treacheries and deceits of Ixion, and to Jason, the
Argonauts, and the quest for the Golden Fleece.
But there is much more to this myth than the web of familial relationships
 6 The Mystery

and references to other myths. In the story of Helle and the naming of the
Hellespont w e have an example o f the eponymous nature of myth. Helle isn't
necessary to the story, and where she does appear she seems to have been stuck
in as an afterthought. She apparently serves no purpose except to die so as to
provide a name for the straits.
Robert Graves interprets the story of Nephele and Athamas as the mating
of the King, as representative / incarnation of the thunder-god, with the sky it-
self. (Athamas's brother Salmoneus was killed by a lightning bolt from Zeus
for his arrogance in imitating the king of the gods.) The rivalry between Ino
and Nephele recalls, he says, the conflict between the agricultural Ionian set-
tlers and the pastoral Aeolian settlers of Boeotia, and the threatened sacrifice
of Phryxus is probably a softened version o f the story of a real sacrifice of the
boy. Other myths of threatened sacrifice—notably that of Iphigenia, daughter
of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra—depict an actual sacrifice in their early ver-
sions. Later versions have the gods snatching the intended victim away and sub-
stituting an animal. One cannot help but think of the sacrifice of Abraham and
Isaac's last-minute reprieve. It is quite possible that the original version had
Isaac dying under the knife.
Finally, there is the wonderful golden ram itself An intriguing explanation
of this element is that the Golden Fleece derives from the ancient practice of
"mining" gold from streams by weighting down fresh, unshorn sheepskins in
mountain streams, where they trapped fine particles of gold dust being washed
down from the ore beds. After a fleece had lain in the stream for a while, it
would become saturated with gold, becoming a true "golden fleece." The gold
was collected by drying the fleece and burning it—quite literally sacrificing a
potentially useful pelt—so that the animal material was burned away, leaving
puddles of melted gold behind.
So what is myth? Is it a collection of relationships? Explanations of names?
Recollections of ancient conflicts? Memories of old customs? Skewed records
o f arcane science and technology? As the above example shows, it is all this and
more.
Almost as interesting as the question of what myths are is the way in which
they are remembered. The reason that the mythology collections of Edith
Hamilton and Charles Bulfinch are so popular is that the Greeks and Romans
left so few complete accounts o f their myths. It's not that they disdained the
myths or were incapable of recounting them. The Iliad and The Odyssey,
Apollodorus's The Voyage of Argo, and Ovid's Metamorphoses all attest to the in-
terest and skill of ancient writers. The problem is that these myths were com-
mon coin in the days of the Greeks, and everyone was familiar with them. They
would no more think of retelling such common stories than a person today
would feel the need to explain w h o Lois Lane and Clark Kent are.
Since everyone was so familiar with the stories, it wasn't even necessary al-
ways to identify characters by name. Poseidon might be called "the earth
mover" or "the dark-haired one." Future historians reconstructing American
popular culture of the twentieth century might have a hard time deducing
w h o Kirk and Spöck were. Fortunately, we are such compulsive record keepers
 The Nature of Myth 7

that it's likely plenty of full references to Star Trek will still exist. But imagine
how hard it would be to understand these references if no copies of the video-
tapes or scripts survived, and all w e had to go by in reconstructing the series
were occasional references in news magazines to "dilithium crystals," "trans-
porters," and "pointy-eared Vulcans." Much of the richness of ancient stories
and their context has doubtless been lost to us because nothing and no one
recorded the threads of everyday life. That is why historians and archaeologists
get so excited over such events as the discovery of Pompeii and Herculaneum,
or (for a much more recent example) the Alpine Iceman Ötzi. These unexpected
tragedies preserve a snapshot of everyday ancient life. As a result, we now know
how the Pompeiians furnished their rooms and painted their walls. We know
how Bronze Age travelers wrapped their feet and what they ate. Some things,
however, aren't preserved very well. N o one knows the latest joke the Iceman
heard or understands all the obscure graffiti on the walls of Pompeii.
Often myths have come down to us as a fortuitous by-product of something
else. A poet or dramatist might bring in a myth as an allusion to his main story.
The incidents are similar, or some character is related to one in another myth.
The story of Phryxus, as recounted above, doesn't appear in full anywhere in
existing fragments of ancient literature. One would think that Apollonius of
Rhodes, in his epic poem "Voyage of the Argo," would tell the story. This is
one of the longer and more complete ancient accounts o f a classic myth, and
the story of the Fleece's origin would seem to be of more than passing inter-
est to Apollonius. After all, it tells the background of the object of the Argo-
nauts' quest. Yet the story is recounted only in bits and pieces, spread through-
out the narrative. Homer, writing at least two centuries earlier, doesn't
mention it at all. He does mention Ino, but in an entirely different context.
For an ancient Greek source, we must turn to the fourth Pythian Ode of
Pindar (fifth century B.C.E.). Pindar's mention is brief; it tells about the soul of
Phryxus in Hades calling for the fleece of the ram that saved him, Sophocles,
Aeschylus, and Euripides all wrote plays based on the story, but all these have
been lost, and we don't know what they said. The first complete tellings we
have of the story of Phryxus are in the collections of myths set down by the
comparatively recent Apollodorus (first century B.C.E.) and Hyginus (first cen-
tury C.E.)
The second-century Greek travel writer, Pausanias, includes the story, with
about as much detail as Apollodorus and Hyginus, in his account of Attica.
Pausanias is always interesting to read. His book is a travel guide to the reli-
gious and historical sights of Greece. For instance, he points out the very rock
where Ino was supposed to have thrown herself into the sea. But he always
spoils the miraculous nature of the story with a strict rationalism. Pausanias
doesn't believe in miracles, and he always looks for some naturalistic explana-
tion behind the story. In his account, for instance, Phryxus is not saved by a
mystical ram, but by a dolphin.
We also have the story as represented in art. Phryxus borne by the ram ap-
peared in sculpture before the fifth century B.C.E. and was a popular subject on
red-figure vases in Attica and southern Italy from the mid-fifth century on.
 8 The Mystery

There is also a mid-fifth-century terra-cotta figure from a wooden chest. All

show Phryxus clinging rather precariously to a swimming ram. (Ï know of no
example that shows Helle being rescued by the ram. Perhaps, in all these cases,
she has already dropped off. More likely, her adoption into the myth came af-
ter the creation of the red-figured vases.)
What is particularly interesting is that the most outrageous elements of the
story as it was later told—that the ram had a golden fleece, and that it bore
Phryxus away through the air—are missing from the very earliest accounts and
pictures. Myths are not static, but change through time. This is not really sur-
prising—seven hundred years separate the odes of Pindar and the red-figure
vases from the guidebooks of the rationalist Pausanias, and one would expect
the story to change in that time. The core of the narrative remains the same,
but elements accrete, like barnacles growing on a ship, until the entire story
has undergone a sea change, covered with new and strange details.
If one accepts the hypotheses above regarding the early history of the story,
then the myth of Phryxus started out as the story of the ritual sacrifice of the
king (who is the incarnation of Zeus); it became the story of an aborted
sacrifice when popular feeling rejected human sacrifice. The myth centered on
the victim s escape on the back of a ram, which became a swimming ram, then
a flying ram, and finally a golden ram. Not only is the myth w e know today the
sum o f extremely diverse parts, but it has also changed through time. If one
wants to sit down and try to analyze the myth, one first has to decide at what
point in its history to freeze the myth for study.
There is another problem in trying to analyze myths: H o w does one distin-
guish between a folk story, which is the common property of a people, and the
work of an individual writer? The problem is important, because frequently
w e have only one writer to go by Homer's Iliad and Odyssey are two of the old-
est written forms of Greek myth, but Homer is widely believed to have altered
myths to suit his purposes. Certainly Ovid did. He alone has Perseus turn
the giant Atlas into Mount Atlas by showing him the head of Medusa. But
Hercules later temporarily took the sky from Atlas's shoulders, and Hercules
was Perseus's descendent. In his Amores, Ovid talks of "giving Perseus the
flying horse," yet Pegasus was the steed of Bellerophon, not Perseus.
It was Ovid w h o first confused the sisters Procne and Philomela in their sad
myth. This mistake makes a mess of the point of the tale, and in his error Ovid
has mislead generations of poets.
Much of Virgil's Aeneid is the product of the poet's own mind. H o w much
of it should be regarded as myth? This sort of thing becomes important when
one tries to trace the history of an image. When Euripides, in his play Ion, has
Athena rather than Perseus slaying the Gorgon, is he recounting a traditional
version of the tale, or is he innovating for effect? Did Aeschylus appropriate the
image of the Gorgon to give concrete form to the previously unpictured Furies
(as Thalia Phyllies Howe suggested), or is he using an image already well es-
tablished? One certain thing is that the medium used to tell the story certainly
influences the story being told. The medium is not the message, Marshall
McLuhan notwithstanding, but the medium strongly affects how the message
 The Nature of Myth 9

is conveyed. Some myths are known only from vase paintings. N o written
record o f them survives, so they are, therefore, simply photogenic images. N o
one can convey the intricate webs of familial relationships through vase paint-
ings, but these survive in the written records.
A later example of a myth that grew by accretion is the story of King Arthur
of Britain. Although it has been argued that Arthur never existed in any form,
the prevailing opinion seems to be that he was a real person, a dux bellorum w h o
lead the Romano-Celtic forces at the battle of Mount Badon in or about the
early sixth century In the past fifteen years there have been at least five works
that have attempted to identify the elusive Leader of Batdes by his given name.
Geoffrey Ashe's The Discovery of King Arthur, Graham Phillips and Martin
Keatman's Xing Arthur: The True Story, Baram Blackett and Alan Wilson's
Artorius Rex Discovered, N o r m a Goodrich's King Arthur, and Chris Barber and
David Pykit'sJourney to Avalon each identify a different candidate, and each cas-
tigates their predecessors for their lack of insight.
Although there are allusions to Arthur in Welsh tradition, the first coherent
narrative about him dates from seven centuries after his alleged time. Geoffrey
of Monmouth was a twelfth-century priest about w h o m w e know very little.
His History of the Kings of Britain (1135 C.E.) tells the history of Britain from the
time o f Brutus (circa 1115 B.C.E.) to 689 C.E. The story of King Arthur is only one
part o f this history, although it occupies the largest single section. Some of the
sources Geoffrey used have been identified, but not the ones for the story of
Arthur. In his preface, Geoffrey claims that these came from "an ancient book
written in the British language."
Geoffrey seems to have composed much of his material himself (Geoffrey
Ashe calls his work a "literary fraud"), but much of his Arthurian material is
clearly genuine. A m o n g the bits and pieces that we know from earlier writings
are Arthur himself, Sir Kay, Sir Bedivere, Mordred, Tristram, Guinevere, King
Mark, Iseult, and Sir Gawaine.
Geoffrey at least gives these characters a history, although we may wonder
how much of it accurately reflects Welsh stories. Merlin appears for the first
time in Geoffrey's work, and ever afterward he is inseparable from the story of
Arthur.
In Geoffrey's account, Arthur's father-to-be, Uther Pendragon, is seized
with desire for Ygerna, wife o f Gorlois of Cornwall. Merlin helps him to se-
duce Ygerna, using his "drugs" to make Uther appear to be Gorlois. The result
of Uther and Ygerna's union is Arthur. Unlike later legends, however, Geoffrey
does not have Arthur disappear with Merlin for a number of years, nor is he
finally recognized as king by pulling a sword from a stone (or anvil). Instead,
Arthur is accepted as Uther's son and crowned king at the age of fifteen, after
Uther has died. There is no Round Table, no series of quests, no Holy Grail,
no Lancelot, no Galahad, no Percival.
But the tale nonetheless had remarkable resonance, and within thirty-five
years of the appearance o f Geoffrey's book, an anonymous commentator
could ask, "What place is there within the bounds of the empire of Christen-
dom to which the winged praise of Arthur the Briton has not extended?"
 10 The Mystery

The next notable author in the line of Arthurian chroniclers was Wace, a
Jerseyman (and perhaps a teacher), who rendered the Arthurian portion of
Geoffrey's history into French verse sometime before 1155 (twenty years after
Geoffrey) in his Roman de Brut. Wace may have gleaned from sources other
than Geoffrey, since he adds to the story His most important addition is the
first mention of the Round Table.
Within thirty-five more years the tale was reworked into English by Lay-
amon, an English priest w h o composed the Brut, clearly basing it on Wace s
work. But Layamon builds on Wace, most tellingly by adding fantastic ele-
ments—Arthur is raised by elves (not by Merlin) and is borne away to "Avallon"
after his last battle, to be healed of his wounds and return again. In this em-
broidering of the story, Layamon is like those late contributors to the myth of
Phryxus w h o gradually turned a swimming ram into a flying golden one.
Chrétien de Troyes was an approximate contemporary of Layamon. Five of
his verse romances have survived—Eric et Enide, C/iges, Yvain, Perceval, and
Lancelot. A sixth, Conte du Graal, was partly authored by him. He is the first to
bring Lancelot and Perceval into the story and to set Arthur's court at Camelot,
Although there is an earlier tradition of a sacred cauldron, Conte du Graal is the
first work about a cup with Christian associations and the first recorded use of
the term "grail."
Already we are far removed from the quasi-historical character of Geoffrey
Over the next three hundred years Arthurian romances popped up all over
Europe and pushed the central character still further away from reality. The
crowning touch was Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur (published at the end
o f the fifteenth century), which solidified the basic story as it is told today.
As an example of how the medium can transform a story, consider a mod-
ern example—Superman. Although Superman is a moderh commercial figure,
created less than one human lifetime ago (he first appeared in 1938), his evolv-
ing story tells a lot about how tales can change in response to different envi-
ronments.
The roots of Superman the comic book character lie in pulp magazines and
science fiction. In 1930 Philip G. Wylie published the novel The Gladiator about
Hugo Danner, a biologist's son w h o is given extraordinary powers—he has in-
credible strength, can leap great distances, and his skin is tough enough to re-
sist injury After his parents die, Danner becomes a war hero. The book served
as the basis for a largely forgotten 1938 movie of the same name.
In 1935, Doc Savage magazine appeared. This magazine ran for sixteen years,
each issue carrying a new adventure of the title character and his band of ex-
perts. (During the 1960s these were reprinted in paperback, and in 1974 a very
campy George Pal motion picture based on the series was released.) Most of
the stories were the work of Lester Dent, w h o published them under the house
name of Kenneth Robeson. In these stories, Clark "Doc" Savage, the son of a
famous father, has been raised to be a paragon of intellectual and physical
virtue. Because of his tanned, perfect body, he is known as "the Man of
Bronze." But he exercises great mental abilities as well. Together with his five
sidekicks, he fights evil and rights wrongs.
 The Nature of Myth 11

The comic book character of Superman was the work of Jerome Siegel and
Joe Schuster, a couple of boys from Cleveland, Ohio. They began working out
the character in 1933, when both were seventeen years old, Siegel was the writer
and Schuster the artist. That they drew their inspiration from the pulp maga-
zines was undeniable. Siegel had even reviewed The Gladiator for the fan mag-
azine he edited. It was reportedly one of his favorite stories. The idea of mak-
ing his hero the son of extraterrestrials and attributing his powers to his being
born on a planet more massive than Earth might have been inspired by the
Aarn Munro stories of John W. Campbell, which began appearing in 1934.
Siegel and Schuster peddled their creation continually, tinkering with him
through the years. At first he wore street clothes, but later they put him in the
familiar brightly colored tights and red cape. Comics artist and historian James
Steranko claims that Schuster's drawing of Superman was heavily influenced
by the promotional ads for Doc Savage, which read "SUPERMAN" across the
top in large print. (Note, also, that Doc's first name, Clark, was the same as that
given to Superman by his adoptive parents, the Kents.)
Finally, the Superman story was accepted by editor M. C. Gaines, and the
first thirteen-page story appeared in the first issue of Action Comics, with a sur-
prising picture of the garishly costumed Superman on the cover, holding an au-
tomobile above his head.
Today the costumed, super-powered superhero is a convention, a cliché, but
consider how this first cover must have looked to readers in the 1930s. At the
time, although pulp magazines and movie serials had introduced mass audi-
ences to fantastic characters and gimmicks, there still had been nothing quite
like this. The comic book superhero is as stylized and stilted a convention as
any other in popular art, but long familiarity has blunted the weirdness of it for
most of us.
The son of a scientist, a being from a heavier world, boasting enhanced ca-
pabilities, Superman was Aarn Munro, Clark Savage, and Hugo Danner rolled
into one. Clark Kent was not merely a man of Bronze, like Savage, but the Man
of Steel. His creators rounded out his personal history with a Moses-like res-
cue from certain death, and the result was amazingly successful.
Steranko claims that success didn't really strike until the fourth issue of
Action Comics, after publisher Harry Donenfeld commissioned a survey to find
out why sales were up and found that the Superman features were responsible.
(Each issue of Action Comics carried many features, after all.) Donenfeld or-
dered the new character "plastered on every Action cover. They sold out. He
gave Superman his own book, reprinting one early story. It, too, sold out."
Steranko is almost certainly correct in attributing the success of the new char-
acter to readers' identification with the handsome and powerful Superman—
" . . . he was the graphic representation of the ultimate childhood dream-self."
But surely another reason all those issues sold out was that stunningly visible
blue-and-red costume, with its flamboyant and useless red cape. If readers saw
it on the cover, they knew it was in the magazine. And so superheroes have col-
orful costumes not for some odd psychological reason, but because they sold
magazines.1
 12 The Mystery

Other aspects of the Superman mythos can also be seen to have developed
for such blandly practical reasons. The early Superman strips were sparse, with
few of the conventions we have come to associate with them today. Clark Kent
worked with fellow reporter Lois Lane at the Daily Star, under the editorship
of George Taylor. Lois provided the impetus for many adventures, since
Superman was perpetually having to rescue her. Over time, Taylor became
Perry White and the Daily Star became the Daily Planet.
Arguably, the first big change—from street clothes to a colorful cos-
tume—came about because Superman was a pulp (print) character w h o had
moved to a graphic (picture) medium. It was only by accident that the advan-
tage o f his costume became known. The next change, however, was deliberate
and resulted from another change in medium.
The first radio show about Superman was broadcast on February 12,1940,
and featured Bud Collyer as Kent/Superman. Schuster's graphics couldn't be
seen over the radio, of course, and Superman's powers had to be suggested by
audio effects. The problem came when the writers tried to advance the story.
Radio is a dramatic medium, and it works far better when the story unfolds
through dialogue rather than through descriptions given by an omniscient nar-
rator. During those times when Lois Lane was in trouble, Clark Kent needed
someone to talk to. (He couldn't talk to himself without appearing even more
schizophrenic than he already was.) So Bob Maxwell, the show's producer, cre-
ated a new character—"cub" reporter Jimmy Olsen—to give Clark Kent and
Superman someone to hold a conversation with.
Another big change came with another change of medium. The Fleischer
cartoon studio, previously known for creating Popeye and Betty Boop, began

1.2 One of Superman's first cover appear-

ances. The vivid colors of Superman's cos-
tume helped make him a succei*. Super-
man is a trademark of DC Comics ©1998.
All rights reserved. Used with pfrmisiion.
 The Nature of Myth 13

working on animated Superman cartoons in early 1941. T h e studio released its

first, entitled simply Superman, on September 26,1941.
T h e cartoons' simplified renderings of Clark, Lois, Perry, and the Planet
(Jimmy never appeared in any of the seventeen cartoons) were effective, and
Superman's bright costume was often set off by scenes of the dark city sur-
rounding him. But one big change was needed. As the introduction to the
cartoons noted (and as later repeated in the live-action television series),
Superman was "faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomo-
tive, and able to leap tall buildings at a single bound " The figure on the screen per-
formed all of these acts as the voice-over announced them. The leaping over a
building seems a peculiar act, and it is not until you watch this that you realize
doing so only makes sense for a character w h o cannot fly. At that point you also
realize why it is that Superman began to fly in 1941—the leaping superhero
looks, as one critic put it, "like an anthropomorphic kangaroo/' Superman be-
gan to fly in the cartoons as a way to preserve his dignity, although the dra-
matic advantages of it soon became obvious as well.
Superman began altering his power from superhuman leaps to true flight in
the comics at just the same time he was being adapted to the movie screen. In
the March/April 1941 issue of Superman, he was still leaping, but in the May/
June issue he hovered, and by the July/August issue he could change course
and maneuver in midair. Nevertheless, it wasn't until two years later that the
comics explicitly noted his ability to fly.
Additional changes made to the character over the years were often due to
the story's adaptation for these other media. (For instance, in the Fleischer car-
toons, Superman on a couple o f occasions changed into his costume in an art
deco phone booth with translucent walls. He did this only rarely in the car-
toons and never in the comics, on the radio, or in the television show or movies.
But the image o f Superman "changing in a phone booth" has become estab-
lished indelibly in the public consciousness.) All the changes listed above are
significant in that they show how the myth changed in response to the limita-
tions or capabilities of a new medium.
If examples culled from Superman seem too far-fetched, then consider the
story of St. Wilgefortis, daughter o f the king of Portugal. She was betrothed
against her will to the king of Sicily but refused to marry him because she had
taken a vow of virginity. She prayed for a solution, and Heaven answered her
petition in an unusual w a y — s h e grew a beard. The Sicilian king broke off the
engagement, and her father had Wilgefortis crucified.
This story, it is n o w felt, was inspired by a misunderstanding of an artistic
convention. In some cases the crucified Christ was depicted wearing a long
gown, rather than the customary loincloth. This gown looked like a woman's
dress, and the story of Wilgefortis arose to explain w h y a bearded woman
was being crucified. The same story is told of other saints, including St.
Kümmernis, St. Liberata, St. Livrade, and St. Uncumber. In all cases, the mar-
tyr has been invoked as a patron saint by w o m e n w h o wish to be divested of
their husbands—as the rather transparent names "Liberata," "Uncumber," and
"Kümmernis" (German for "trouble") might suggest.
 14 The Mystery

There is something attractively simple about this deriving of myths from

misunderstood art, and it is easy to overuse the explanation. Robert Graves
was particularly vulnerable to the temptation, and his book The Greek Myths
bristles with dubious derivations of myths from images and artworks. Unfortu
nately, most of Graves's supposed original images have never been found.
Graves has no problem positing their existence, but those of a skeptical bent
lack confidence in his explanations.
The point of these examples is that myths can change through time by the
addition of elements prompted by any number of causes. They can reflect bits
of natural science or engineering cleverness (as with the explanation of the
Golden Fleece), or they can be explanations for place names (as with Helle and
the Hellespont), or they can relate bits of genealogy, or they can be marvelous
devices and ideas imported from other sources (the flying golden ram, or per-
haps the Round Table itself). Rationalizations can make their way into tales
(as with the pagan Celtic Graal, which became the Christian Grail, the cup that
many said was used at the Last Supper). Story elements may be added to suit
the medium used, as with Superman or Wilgefortis, and may then be retained
when the story is transferred to another medium.
This is why Î believe that explanations for myths that rely on a single mech-
anism are often insufficient. Myth as survival of a ritual, or myth as misre
membered history, or even myth as psychodrama are convenient categories,
but an extended myth will have acquired baggage from many other sources
over the course of a long life. Some hold that "myth" refers to stories that tell
great, deep, universal truths and are linked to specific places, whereas "folk-
tales" are wonder-stories that are not tied to any distinct place or time. This dis-
tinction is foggy, however. Both Edwin Hartland and Stith Thomson classified
the story of Perseus and the Gorgon as a folktale, yet (as we shall see) the story
as we have it abounds with real people and places. Pausanias identifies some of
the sites, as do other authors up through the Middle Ages. But their assertions
prove nothing—it is easy for a story to lose its concrete localizations over time
or to become associated with a strong hero from another story.
At any point in its life history, a myth can go in a number of directions, ac-
quiring new associations or losing old ones. The storytellers responsible for
perpetuating early myths, whether they worked in song, script, clay, or stone,
had only their own knowledge to go by. They knew the stories as they had
heard them from others, and they possessed a deep knowledge of their every-
day world. Before modern times, most people were illiterate, and there were
few books or libraries. We have the advantage of them in being able to survey
the growth of a myth through time. Sometimes we can see the ancient story-
teller struggling to understand something within the context he knows—as
when a Greek vase painter drew the Keraunos, the double-trident lightning
bolt, with a central red fiery spire. The form derived from a Persian symbol in
which all three elements of the bolt evidently represent equivalent forks of a
lightning strike. But the Greek artist interpreted it with a burning center, per-
haps because the lightning bolt glowed and could produce fire when it struck.
And so a new addition was made to the mythic image of lightning.
 The Nature of Myth 15

In the following chapters of the first part of this book I will retell the myth
of Perseus and Medusa, show how it has been depicted in art, and give some
of the proposed explanations for its bizarre imagery. In the second part, w e will
examine the origins o f some of the images associated with the myth and sug-
gest how they came to be attached to the story.
 2
nrcbe mvrh of peRseus
I ADT> M E O U S A
This story is on the level of the fairy story. Hermes
and Athena act like the fairy godmother in Cinderella.
The magical wallet and cap belong to the properties
fairy tales abound in everywhere. It is the only myth
in which magic plays a decisive part, and it seems to
have been a great favorite in Greece. Many poets
allude to it.
—Edith Hamilton,
Mythology, 1942

ON A MAP OF THE EASTERN Mediterranean, Greece looks like a great three-

fingered hand reaching down toward Crete, It is a right hand, with its palm
down on the Aegean Sea, and it is nearly severed at the wrist by the Bay of
Corinth, so that the hand—the Peloponnese—is nearly an island. Many of the
historically and archaeologically important sites of early Greece lie on that al-
most-severed hand. Sparta is there, and Corinth, along with Olympia and
Mycenae.
At the point where the thumb and forefinger meet is the ancient site of
Argos. The city was believed by the ancient Greeks to be the oldest on the
peninsula. Today it sits somewhat inland, but in its prime, before the harbor
silted up, it overlooked the Bay of Argos. It dominated the fertile red Argolid
plain from its solid hilltop position and was, naturally enough, the capital of
that region. At one time its population rivaled that of Athens.
About fifteen miles distant is the ancient city of Tiryns, also set atop a bluff.
It is today believed to be much older than Argos, dating back to the thirteenth
century B.CK. The city is a fortress, built out of such massive stones that they
were said to have been set by the Cyclops, the Wheel-Eyed Giants.
These are the places where the family of Perseus came from—ancient pro-
ductive strongholds in the most fertile section of ancient Greece, located near
the Isthmus of Corinth, across which land travelers from the Peloponnese to
mainland Greece had to pass, and near the Bay of Argos, with its access to the
sea. Clearly this was highly desirable real estate, and it is around such regions
that friction develops.

17
 18 The Mystery

Despite what is often said about the tale, the myth of Perseus differs from
folktales and fairy tales in having very definite locations and motivations. Even
in the earliest sources, Perseus is said to be the child of the royal house of
Argos, and his history is intimately bound up in the struggle over Argos and
Tiryns.
Although there are references to the story of Perseus spread throughout an-
cient literature and summaries of the main points to be found in various places,
there are only three existing texts that tell the story at any length. One of these
is the Metamorphoses of Publius Ovidius Naso, usually called Ovid. He was born
just before the assassination of Julius Caesar and died when Christ was a
teenager, and he wrote some of the best surviving Roman poems. His telling
of the myth of Perseus and Medusa is very sophisticated. It is presented in a
nonlinear fashion, and Ovid devotes much more time and space to the story of
Perseus and Andromeda than other versions do. In addition, he either invents
details or uses sources that differ from what we would call the "standard" ver-
sion.
Somewhat more reliable is the Library of Apollodorus. About Apollodorus
himself we know very little. He was said to have been an Athenian. Modern
scholars believe him to have written during the first or second century C.E. The
virtue of his work is that he recorded faithfully the details of mythology from
whatever sources he found, without seeking to rewrite them himself. We know
this because we have sometimes been able to identify his sources. His book is
thus an incredible treasure, because it has "frozen" many important myths in
older form and conveyed them without change to us. For practical purposes,
every modern retelling of the Perseus myth can be traced back to Apollodorus.
We can confidently identify two of Apollodorus's sources. One is a fragment
that has survived until modern times. Since Apollodorus quotes only a little of
it, it is possible that he didn't have access to any more of the work than we do.
This fragment is known as "The Shield of Hercules" and was traditionally as-
cribed to the ancient poet Hesiod (eighth century B.C.E.). We will have more to
say about this work later.
A larger portion of Apollodorus's account was almost certainly derived
from Pherekydes, a fifth-century mythologist whose multivolume work has
not survived. He was possibly an Athenian, and his purpose seems to have been
the same as Apollodorus's—to preserve in as true as possible a form the old sto-
ries. If that is the case, then we may have a considerable amount of his work
buried in the surviving volumes of Apollodorus.
How do we know that Apollodorus cribbed from Pherekydes if the latter s
work hasn't survived? Because a nameless scholar had written commentaries
in his copy of the Argonautica (The Voyage of theArgo) of Apollonius of Rhodes.
These marginal notes have survived through the years through copying and re-
copying, and we have them today. We do not know who wrote them or when.
(They are referred to as "scholia," as are all such anonymous notes. The au-
thors of such marginalia are all called "the Scholiast," as if there were one great
unknown authority supplying all these bits and pieces of ancient learning.) But
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 19

w e are fortunate that he (or she) made the notations, because he has in this way
preserved two large fragments from the work of Pherekydes. Particularly lucky
for us, he preserved most of the story of Perseus and Medusa.
Differences between this preserved copy and Apollodorus's version are neg-
ligible, and so w e know that this is the form the myth had assumed by at least
the fifth century B.C.E., and maybe well before that. In fact, from the Theogeny
of Hesiod w e have a very brief summary of the story, implying that much of
its form had been acquired by the eighth century B.C.E.
And what is the story of Perseus and Medusa? I give it here as it appears in
Apollodorus, with additions from elsewhere that I will note. This is the "canon-
ical" version of the story, which must have existed by the fifth century B.C.E.
There are minor variations, depending on the teller and the place, but this is
the most c o m m o n form.
Argos, the oldest city in Greece, was founded by Danaus, w h o came from
Egypt. T h e inhabitants, his descendants, were called the Danaids. T h e next
ruler was his nephew and son-in-law, Lynceus, followed by Lynceus's son Abas.
Abas, in turn, had twin sons, Acrisius and Proetus. These two, like the biblical
brothers Jacob and Esau, quarreled with each other while still in the womb.
W h e n they grew up, they fought each other for the kingdom of Argos, and in
the course of this war they invented shields. Acrisius ultimately won, driving
Proetus from the city. Proetus later became king of Tiryns, and the two broth-
ers divided the Argolid plain between them.
Acrisius had a daughter named Danae (the name probably means "woman
of the Danaans"), but he wanted sons to continue his royal line. He asked an
oracle h o w he could get sons, but he was given the unexpected message that
his daughter would beget a son w h o would in time kill him. As always in such
myths, Acrisius strove against this grim fate. His first attempt was to see that
Danae never had a son. He shut her up in an underground bronze chamber, so
that she would not even encounter any men.
This plan did not, of course, succeed. According to some, Proetus somehow
managed to seduce her. According to the more fanciful and popular form of
the story, Zeus came to her in the form of a shower of gold, slipping easily
through the gaps in her bronze cell.
Finding his daughter with child, but not wishing to kill her directly, Acrisius
shut her and her newborn child into a chest and cast it into the sea. A surviv-
ing fragment from a poem by Simonides of Keos (556-467 B.C.E.), usually called
"The Lament of Danae," has the chest-borne Danae speaking to the infant
Perseus and asking Z e u s for help.
Danae and Perseus drifted out of the Bay of Argos and into the open
Mediterranean. They were driven toward the island of Seriphos, one of the
westernmost of the scattered islands called the Cyclades, about a hundred
miles to the southeast of Argos.
None of the Cyclades is large. Seriphos itself encompasses only about thirty
square miles and today has a population o f eleven hundred people, a third of
w h o m live in the main city, also named Seriphos. The name means "denuded,"
 20 The Mystery

which is appropriate, since, like the rest of the Cyclades, it is a bare and barren
rock. The inhabitants today live by the tourist industry. In classical times they
lived by fishing, or by scratching out iron ore from the veins in the island.
The chest was pulled from the sea by Diktys, a fisherman whose name ap-
propriately means "net." Danae and Diktys discovered that they were distantly
related, and so Perseus and Danae stayed with the fisherman, and Perseus grew
up in his house.
N o w Diktys was brother to the king, Polydektes. This might seem like one
o f those fortuitous and unlikely coincidences that pop up in legend, but on an
island as small as Seriphos it is probable that the relatives of the king were in-
deed fishermen. In this case the relationship was to prove a problem, because
the king saw Danae and fell in love with her. One assumes that this affection
was not returned (perhaps because the family ties between them made it in-
appropriate), but Polydektes was determined to have Danae. What stood in his
way was Perseus, w h o had now grown to manhood and apparently opposed
Polydektes (although this is nowhere stated).
Polydektes called together many friends, including Perseus. Everyone was
to bring a gift. "What sort o f gift?" asked Perseus. "A horse," replied Polydektes.
"The Gorgon's head," retorted Perseus.
It was a fateful reply, because Polydektes saw in it his chance to eliminate
Perseus. W h e n all the guests (including Perseus) brought horses, Polydektes
would not accept those o f Perseus. Instead he held the young man to his word
and insisted upon the head of the Gorgon. There never seems to have been any
question that Perseus could substitute something else for the head, or not ap
pear at the gathering at all. This, apparently, was a matter o f honor, and Perseus
would have to succeed in bringing back the head o f the Gorgon or die in the
attempt. 1
Perseus now lamented his fate, because the Gorgon was a deadly creature,
and he would likely die in an expedition to separate one from its head. He went
off by himself to the far side o f the island. Here the god Hermes appeared to
him and asked why he was so sad. After hearing the story, he told Perseus not
to worry. Under the direction of Hermes and the goddess Athena, Perseus be-
gan his quest by first making an expedition to visit the Graiae.
The Graiae were three sisters named Enyo, Pemphredo, and Dino. They
were the daughters of Ketos the sea monster and Phorkys, the Old Man of the
Sea (and were therefore called the Phorkides). They had the forms of old
w o m e n (although the poet Pindar calls them "swanlike") and had only one eye
and one tooth among them. They passed these around from one to another,
so that each could use them in turn. Perseus managed to sneak into their midst,
where he waited until one removed the eye and the tooth, then intercepted
them as they were to pass from one hand to another. As soon as the Graiae re-
alized what had happened, they cried aloud and begged for him to return the
precious objects. Perseus said that he would on condition that the Graiae di-
rect him to the Nymphs. The Graiae, over a metaphorical barrel, told Perseus
what he wanted to know. In some later sources, he still doesn't return the eye
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 21

and tooth but throws them down into Lake Tritonis, an African lake near the
Mediterranean.
The Nymphs had the magical devices he would need to defeat the Gorgon.
From them he received winged sandals that enabled him to fly. They also gave
him the cap of Hades, the ruler of the underworld, which would make him in-
visible. Finally, there was the kibisis. This last gift: was apparently a bag of some
kind, into which Perseus was to place the Gorgon's head.2 The word is not
Greek and must have puzzled readers. In Apollodorus there is a note that looks
suspiciously like one of those marginal scholia, explaining the word as derived
from KeiGÖat and eo0f|ç, sineefood and clothes were kept in the bag. It's a bad
case of guessing at etymology, and the origin of the word is still not known. In
translations, Jeibtsis is almost always rendered as "wallet/' a translation 1 find
unacceptable. Whatever meanings "wallet" may have had for Sir James George
Frazier (who translated Apollodorus in 1921), to a late-twentieth-century Amer-
ican it conjures up an image of Perseus cramming Medusas head in among his
tens and twenties.
In Apollodorus we find Hermes also contributing a gift of a harpe, a sickle-
shaped sword. This is the traditional weapon of Perseus, and he is more often
shown using a curved weapon than he is a straight sword to decapitate the
monster.
Thus formidably armed (or over armed), Perseus sought out the Gorgons.
These monsters lived on the shore of Ocean, which was seen as the great,
world-encircling salt stream. This means that their actual location is somewhat
hazily defined. Other writers have placed them to the north, the east, or the
west. One said they lived on an island called Sarpedon.
Pherekydes did not describe the Gorgons, but Apollodorus did, taking his
information from the very old fragment of "The Shield of Hercules." There
were three Gorgons, named Stheno, Euryale, and Medusa. They were the
daughters of Ketos and Phorkys, as were the Graiae, making the two sets of
monstrous triplets sisters. Of the Gorgons, only Medusa was mortal. No rea-
son is ever given for this odd fact.
The Gorgons had scaly heads, boar's tusks, brazen hands, and wings. They
had protruding tongues, glaring eyes, and serpents wrapped around their
waists as belts. All of this agrees with depictions of the Gorgon in Greek art
(see the next chapter). Note that the description does not include snakes in the
hair, or snakes in place of hair. What we take as the defining feature of
Medusa's appearance didn't enter the story until much later, making its liter-
ary debut in Ovid's Metamorphoses.
The appearance of the Gorgons was so awful that anyone who looked on
them was turned into stone, so Perseus was warned by the gods to look at them
only in a mirror (Apollodorus states quite definitely that the mirror Perseus
used was his highly polished shield). For some reason, viewing a Gorgon in the
mirror attenuated her petrifying power. Fighting three monsters while looking
in a mirror would be a daunting task, indeed. Fortunately, all the Gorgons were
asleep when Perseus flew down toward them. Somehow he identified Medusa
 22 The Mystery

among the three and used his mirror to view her head as he swiped it off with
his harpe. Apollodorus says that, even so, Athena guided his hand.
W h e n Perseus cut off the head a peculiar thing happened: Medusa s two
children were born from her neck. These were Chrysaor, the warrior with the
golden sword, and Pegasus, the flying horse. The incident appears in the an-
cient and venerable Theogeny of Hesiod, so Apollodorus dutifully included it in
his own account, but almost no one else recounts the scene. It is rarely depicted
in art, probably because it is so clumsy an image.
According to Hesiod, the father of Medusa's children was "the dark-haired
one" (Poseidon, god of the sea and earthquakes). Pegasus went on to roles as
the bearer of Zeus s lightning and as the steed who bore Bellerophon in his ad-
venture with the Chimera. Chrysaor, however, played no large part in mythol-
ogy. He married Callirhoe, Ocean s daughter, and by her had the monstrous
Geryones, w h o had three heads each. (Triplets apparently ran in the family.)
According to another, no doubt very confused, account, Geryones had one
head and three bodies.
Awakened by the noise and commotion of Medusa's death, Stheno and
Euryale, the surviving Gorgon sisters, attacked Perseus. But he put on the cap
of Hades and, becoming invisible, was able to escape.
The next part of the story is not in the surviving portion of Pherekydes (or
in the works of some w h o copy him) but is referred to in many old sources, in-
cluding the Histories of Herodotus. As usual, Apollodorus gathered the im-
portant parts into his narrative.
Perseus was flying back to Seriphos on his magical sandals and was passing
over Ethiopia (the part o f Africa along the coast of the Red Sea south o f Egypt,
not necessarily the modern country of that name; later accounts set the fol-
lowing events in Joppa, on the coast of present-day Israel) when he saw An-
dromeda chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the sea monster, Ketos.
Andromeda was the daughter of Kepheos, the king of Ethiopia, and Cassie-
peia (or Cassiopeia), the queen. Cassiepeia had insulted Poseidon by boasting
that her beauty was greater than that of the Nereids, the daughters of the sea
god. In his wrath, Poseidon threatened to send a flood to devastate the city and
to follow this with a visit from the sea monster. Ammon, a priest, announced
that the disaster could be avoided if the princess Andromeda were chained to
a rock as a sacrifice to the monster. This her parents reluctantly did.
Perseus fell in love with Andromeda as soon as he saw her. He promised
Cepheos that he would kill the sea monster, if he could have Andromeda as his
wife. Cepheos agreed, and Perseus promptly killed Ketos. One would think
that the obvious way to do this would be to expose the Gorgon's head to the
sea monster, since Perseus had it with him in the kibisis. In later versions of
the story, that is just what he does, and the petrified monster becomes a rock
in the harbor. But in older versions he kills the monster in more mundane fash-
ion (if killing a monster can ever be said to be mundane). In the oldest surviv-
ing depiction, for instance, he is shown throwing rocks at Ketos.
Now, however, a new crisis developed. Phineus, to w h o m Andromeda had
originally been betrothed, opposed her engagement to Perseus and raised an
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 23

army against his rival. In some accounts, Cepheos and Cassiepeia support
Phineus against Perseus. (In Hyginus, the competing suitor is named Agenor.)
This time, Perseus did defeat his attackers by using the Gorgon's head, petri-
fying the lot.
Perseus returned to Seriphos with Andromeda. There he found Danae and
Diktys at the temple, where they had taken sanctuary against the advances o f
Polydektes and his forces. Once again, Perseus used the head of Medusa against
his enemies, and Polydektes and his men were turned to stone. Afterward,
Perseus left Diktys as king of Seriphos and returned to Argos with Danae and
Andromeda. Acrisius fled when he learned of Perseus's return. He came to
Larissa, an important city in Thessaly, lying near the bases of Mount Olympus
and Mount Ossa. (Larissa was also the name of the acropolis at Corinth, which
might be the site intended.) The old king there had died, and his son, the new
king Teutamides, was holding the athletic funeral games. Perseus, w h o came
to attend and to take part in the games, came upon Acrisius there. As Perseus
was participating in the pentathlon, his thrown discus struck Acrisius on the
foot, killing him.
Perseus was shamed by the death and did not wish to rule over a city be-
cause he had killed the former ruler. He arranged to trade dominions with
Megapenthes, his cousin and the ruler of Tiryns. And thus Perseus became
ruler of the fortified city of Tiryns. He and Andromeda had the sons Alcaeus,
Sthenelus, Heleus, Mestor, and Electryon and a daughter named Gorgon-
phone. An earlier son, Perses, remained with Kepheos and eventually became
the eponymous founder of Persia (according to Herodotus).
T h e name of Perseus's daughter is interesting, because Gorgophone means
"Gorgon-slayer." It is also the name of Perseus's aunt, the mother of Megapen-
thes (and a peculiar name it is since, by this canonical myth, no Gorgon had yet
been slain when that grand old lady was named).
Perseus returned his magical gifts of cap, sandals, and kibisis to the gods,
w h o returned them to the Nymphs. He gave the head o f Medusa to Athena,
w h o placed it on her shield.
This is the basic myth o f Perseus, Medusa, and Andromeda. There are mi-
nor variations among many o f the versions, but this form agrees in most par-
ticulars with references to the story in other places and with depictions of the
story in vase paintings, wall paintings, and sculpture.
Before w e go further, I'd like to make a few observations here. Apollo-
dorus's version is the work of a compulsive completist trying to set down all
the facts he has at hand. It is likely that this version is actually too complete.
Hesiod, for example, tells the story of the birth of Chrysaor and Pegasus from
Medusa's severed neck, but nothing of the rest o f the tale. Pherekydes tells the
bulk of the story, but omits this monstrous birth. It is probable that
Apollodorus joined the accounts together himself, creating a version that con-
tained all the strands from past accounts but that had not previously existed as
a single story. Similarly, our existing fragments of Pherekydes make no men-
tion o f Andromeda. It could just be that we lack the portion of the story in
which she appears, but Andromeda is also missing from Pherekydes's later ac-
 24 The Mystery

count of Perseus's return to Argos. The side trip to rescue the chained maiden
interrupts the story of Perseus and Polydektes, and it is likely that in the old-
est versions such an adventure did not occur at that point in the story, or per-
haps it did not even happen to this Perseus. Apollodorus's version—which, by
virtue of its appearing in what we now consider the standard reference on
myths, became the canonical version of the story—represents only one snap-
shot of time in the history of this myth. Apollodorus's and Ovid's versions be-
came the standards upon which later writers based their own tellings and
effectively froze the myth in that form, as Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur crystal-
lized the story of King Arthur.
Nevertheless, there existed both competing earlier versions and later, non-
canonical variations. In the oldest, most revered source, there is no mention of
the story as we have it above. Homer knows of Perseus as a son of Danae and
Zeus but says nothing further of him or his adventures. He describes the
Gorgon only as a monster of the underworld. When Odysseus speaks to the
spirits of the dead, he is threatened with the prospect of meeting with the head
of the Gorgon, and the mere threat frightens him. The monster does not have
a body, nor does it turn anyone to stone. No history of the frightening head is
given. In The Iliad, Homer says that the Gorgon's likeness appears on the aegis
of Athena and the shield of Agamemnon.
This variant history of the Gorgon was also repeated by Apollodorus. How
did he reconcile this nonpetrifying monster of hell with the petrifying sister in
the story of Perseus? He dealt with the question in the myth of Hercules.
When that hero, in the course of his famous twelve labors, went down to
Hades to fetch back Cerberus, the guardian hound of the underworld, most
souls fled from him. One of the few exceptions was Medusa. Hermes (the
helper of Hercules, as he had been of Perseus) told Hercules that the Gorgon
he saw in Hades was the soul of the dead Gorgon, implying that after death
Medusa had lost her power of petrification. Virgil placed plural Gorgons in the
underworld in his Aeneid. The tradition seems to have drifted into obscurity af-
ter that—no medieval visions of hell feature Gorgons. But the classically
minded poets of the Enlightenment brought the image to life again. Milton,
drawing on Virgil, places Gorgons in hell again. The tradition also seems to
have invaded the British stage, because Pope, in his Dunciad, refers disparag-
ingly to the Gorgons represented in theatrical hells. But after this brief revival,
the tradition died out again. No modern writer or artist pictures Gorgons in
hell, although they'd be perfect inhabitants. Gorgons have a longer and more
hellish pedigree, in fact, than horned demons or burning fires. But all that's left
today is a dim echo of the tradition first preserved in Homer.

ANOTHER VARIANT OF the myth presents Medusa not as one monstrous sis-
ter of three, but as a cursed beauty who, like Cassiepeia, unwisely compared
herself to the Nereids in beauty. In retaliation, she was first made ugly, then be-
headed. Apollodorus briefly alludes to this variant, but Ovid tells it at slightly
greater length. In Ovid's version, however, Athena is angered because Medusa
is raped in Athena's temple by Poseidon (perhaps inspired by Hesiod s claim
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 25

that Medusa had children by Poseidon), and changes her beauty to ugliness.
The playwright Sophocles and the Roman writer Hyginus both conflate
events from the longer story, having Perseus kill Acrisius at funeral games for
Polydektes on the island of Seriphos. Sophocles, at least, probably altered the
story for the sake of dramatic cohesion.
Euripides, in his play Ion, says that Athena, rather than Perseus, killed the
Gorgon. The monster in this instance seems to be an unnamed creation of
Gaia, but Hyginus notes the same tradition and cites Euhemerus as his au-
thority. Yet another tradition hints that Zeus himself may have done the deed.
Perhaps the oddest tradition is one cited by that archrationalist, Pausanias.
Not for him the fancies of myth. In his guidebook, he points out that there is
an earthen mound near the market square in Argos, and here the head of
Medusa was supposed to be buried. Pausanias is determined to give his read-
ers what he considers to be the real story. "Leaving aside the myth," he says,
"this is what has been said about her." He goes on to relate that she was a queen
of her people, who lived near Lake Tritonis in Africa; she ruled after the death
of her father, King Phorkys. She lead the Libyans in battle and in hunting. She
stood up to Perseus, who had invaded her country with a force of men from
Greece. She died, not honorably in battle, but treacherously murdered by
night. Nevertheless, Perseus was struck by the beauty of the dead queen and
had her head removed and preserved so that he could display it in Greece.
Pausanias undoubtedly took his account from the work of Dionysius
Skytobrachion, a novelist living in the second century B.C.E. in Alexandria.
Skytobrachion, whose name means "leather arm," constructed his works by
linking together originally unrelated bits of mythology. He is therefore about
as trustworthy a source for myth as E. L. Doctorow s novels are reliable ac-
counts of modern history. Skytobrachion's works are no longer extant, but
they have been cited at length by other writers. Diodorus Siculus, a Sicilian his-
torian of the first century B.C.E., cribbed extensively from Skytobrachion.
Among the stories he derived was a fanciful one of Amazons living in Africa
(previous accounts located them near the Black Sea), where they battled a tribe
called the Gorgons. Skytobrachion's tales, as funneled to posterity through
Pausanias and Diodorus Siculus, would form the basis for occasional attempts
to prove that the myth of Medusa was a distorted account of Greek conflicts
with a matriarchal society.
Pausanias also cites the work of an otherwise unknown writer named
Prokles, who lived in Carthage. Prokles had seen what he called "human sav-
ages" who had been captured and exhibited in Rome. He imagined it was pos-
sible that one such savage woman was responsible for wreaking havoc around
Lake Tritonis, until Perseus killed her. It is interesting to note that Pausanias
still credits Athena with helping the hero in this undertaking; there were lim-
its to even his rationalizations.

AND THERE WE HAVE the story of the Gorgon Medusa, with all its elements.
The basic motifs of the hero-adventurer, the father attempting to evade fate by
indirectly killing the child who will otherwise kill him, and the hero rescuing
 26 The Mystery

the princess, all are common and widespread elements. But it is specific details
of the story of Perseus and Medusa that excite our interest. What are the mean-
ings of the golden shower, the underground bronze chamber, the Graiae with
their shared eye and tooth, the magical arsenal presented to Perseus, the ap-
pearance of the Gorgons, the fact that only one of the three is immortal (and
the other two never reappear in other stories), the petrifying head, and the sea
monster?
Before moving on, I would like to discuss a few features of this myth. Note,
first, that whenever human characters are involved, the myth takes place
in well-defined locales. The Gorgons, the Graiae, and the Nymphs live in un-
defined, nebulous places, but the rest of the story is firmly pegged to the lo-
cales of Argos, Tiryns, Seriphos, Ethiopia, and Larissa. These locations aren't
included simply because the encyclopedic Apollodorus was trying to cram ev-
erything in, or because the rationalist Pausanias insisted on trying to match up
sites with story. They can be found also in Pherekydes and other early sources.
The fact that the Gorgons and the Graiae are both triplet daughters born of
Phorkys and Keto is very suspicious. It suggests that we have here two variants
of an original myth, now both enshrined in a single version. Such things have
been known to occur elsewhere. The modern theory of biblical criticism holds
that the many duplications in the Mosaic books of the Old Testament arose in
just the same way. The so-called "J" text was, most feel, written first by an in-
habitant of the kingdom of Judah. The traditional stories it contained were
told with a Judaic slant. The version called "E" was essentially written as coun-
terpoint by an inhabitant of the northern kingdom of Israel shortly thereafter
to give the Israelite interpretation. The two texts were later combined into a
single edition that contained occasionally variant versions of a single event.
Similarly, in the New Testament, both Mark and Matthew relate the miracle of
the loaves and fishes twice, using very similar language in each case (Luke tells
the story only once). Most scholars believe that Matthew copied from Mark,
but this curious incident gives evidence that Mark also copied from other
sources, and that he did not wish to leave out either version of the story.
In just such a fashion, I suggest, there were originally two variants of the
story of Perseus. In one, he had to obtain the eye and the tooth of the Graiae;
in the other, the head of the Gorgon. In each case he had to carry away body
parts from three monstrous daughters of Phorkys and Keto. Both versions
were attested to, and the authors who recorded the myth did not want to elim-
inate either, so both were accommodated by the present rather clumsy ar-
rangement. in which Perseus has to find the Graiae so that they can direct him
to the Nymphs (although one would have thought that the gods could do that
directly), who give him the weapons he needs to fight the Gorgons. Ovid must
have felt the clumsiness of this arrangement, because he reduces the Graiae to
only two in number and makes them the guardians of the Gorgons.
Keto, the mother of both sets of triplets, is an interesting character. Her
name was later Latinized as Cetus, with the result that Cetacean is now used
to describe things having to do with whales. Keto / Cetus is also the name of
the sea monster that Perseus has to kill to win Andromeda. In addition, as we
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 27

will see in Chapter 7, it is the name of the sea monster that Hercules must de-
feat to save the princess Hesione. Are all these Ketos the same creature, or is
the name a generic one for sea monsters? An excellent question. Confusion of
the specific with the generic occurs frequently in myth. We have no certain
guidelines, although the fact that Perseus killed the one Keto while Hercules
killed the other would weigh against our equating those two.
But as I have said before, mythmakers at any one time must w o r k within the
confines of their o w n knowledge and experience. Before the existence of a
handbook like that of Apollodorus (which includes all three incarnations of
Ketos), it is likely that only one or at most two versions o f the monster stories
would be known by any one writer, w h o would likely assume that the same
name indicated the same creature.
Ever since the 1960s, popular writers referring to the visit of Perseus to the
Nymphs have compared it to the motion pictures in which James Bond receives
his fantastic gadgets from Major Boothroyd, better known as rf Q". 3 There is
something attractive in this view, if only for the bizarre image it invokes. ("Now
pay close attention, Perseus. To all intents and purposes this is an ordinary pair
of slippers. But if you press this stud. . . " ) But the giving of these gifts is worth
a much closer look.
In the first case, the gifts as a group provide a phenomenal example of
overkill. All of the hardships Perseus would normally have had to overcome to
get the Gorgon's head are virtually eliminated in one stroke. Because he can
fly using the magic slippers, he doesn't have to arduously travel the many long
miles to the Gorgons' lair. Because he is invisible when wearing the cap of
Hades, he doesn't have to fight off the remaining t w o Gorgons after killing
Medusa. Because he has a magic bag in which to put the head, he doesn't run
the risk o f turning himself or anyone else into stone by accident. Nowhere in
the myth is there a reference to anyone's giving him a magic shield, but be-
cause he was forewarned of the need for one, and because Athena guides his
hand as he delivers the fatal blow, Perseus has no need to look directly at the
Gorgons and thus he again avoids being turned to stone.
There's also a confusing multiplicity of benefactors. T h e god Hermes and
the goddess Athena help Perseus, but the actual gifts come from the Nymphs.
And the inclusion of the cap of Hades, which gives him invisibility, suggests the
collusion of yet another god.
W h e n all is said and done, Perseus—armed to the teeth with miraculous
aids from a plethora of supernatural entities, slaying the monster as she sleeps,
and then escaping by donning a cap of invisibility—doesn't seem terribly
heroic. I don't think he would have appeared that way to an ancient audience,
either. I submit that we may have here another case of concatenation, wherein
the magical gifts from many different versions of the story have all been pre-
served in one existing form. In this theory, one version may have had Perseus
being given a miraculous helmet of invisibility, by which he escaped with the
head o f the Gorgon, while another gave him the gift of the sandals. In one ver-
sion, Athena may have told him to look at the Gorgon in a mirror so as not to
be turned into stone, while in another she gave him no such advice, but did
 28 The Mystery

guide his sword arm. W h e n the story was committed to writing, however, all
versions were preserved, portmanteaued into one single myth. The redactor
didn't keep all the versions because he thought they were all good stories, but
because he was trying to preserve the entire story, not wanting to leave out any
authentic portions. And so we have our overarmed and overaided hero. As we
will note in the next chapter, versions of the tale depicted on vases show a sim-
pler story, in which there is no suggestion of invisibility, Hermes is rarely
shown, and Athena stands by Perseus but doesn't guide his stroke. Possibly the
earliest versions of the story describe Perseus in a real battle with an awakened
Gorgon (as some art seems to show).
What o f the gifts themselves? The cap of Hades seems unnecessary. A hero
ought to be able to elude pursuers even without such a device. It never reap-
pears in mythology. The kibisis seems to be only a bag. (Claims that it is a mag-
ical bag which can expand to hold anything within, Tardislike, don't seem to
be supported by any ancient sources.) The flying slippers seem to be of the
same sort associated later with Hermes. It is possible that there was an origi-
nal form of the myth in which Hermes himself gave this gift to Perseus, with-
out any intermediary Nymphs (see next chapter). I will have much to say about
the shield in Chapter 8.
The sword of Perseus evokes considerable interest. It is not the short
straight sword we would expect, but has a curved blade, sharpened on the in-
side. T h e harpe is the characteristic weapon of Perseus, and much has been
made of it. Robert Graves, typically, associates the sword with the sickle of the
moon and Perseus with lunar aspects. Others claim that, by using a weapon
connected with peasantry (pressing into killing service what is really an agri-
cultural implement), Perseus betrays his peasant origins. Yet another scholar
claims that, since the sickle is the characteristic sword of the Babylonian god
Marduk, its presence shows clearly the Mesopotamian origins o f the Perseus
story.
In fact, there is no compelling reason to believe any o f this. Other charac-
ters in Greek mythology do use the harpe, but only a very few, and they only
use it for specific purposes. Zeus uses the harpe in his battle against Typhon.
Hercules uses it in his fight against the hydra. Hermes (again!) uses it to kill
Argus. None ever uses it at any other time. Marduk has indeed been depicted
with such a curved sword, but it is by no means a common depiction or a char-
acteristic one.
Curved swords are c o m m o n in the western Mediterranean. In The Book of
the Sword, Sir Richard F. Burton cites numerous examples, in which the sharp-
ened edge can be on either the inside or outside of the blade. The earliest of
these examples come from Egypt, but they are known to be related to the
Hebrew chereb and the Phoenician hereba. One suspects these, in turn, are re-
lated to the Sikh kirpan, which is a straight sword. In fact, there is nothing to
indicate definitively that the chereb and hereba were curved blades. The names
may be generic words for "sword," with only the Greek form being identified
with a particular shape.
 The Myth of Perseus and Medusa 29

2.1 Abyssinian sword in the form of a sicfele. Illustration from Sir

^ ^ Richard Burton's T h e Book of the Sword, Reprinted by permis-
^ sionfrom Dover Publications, N.Y. 1987. Originally published by
Chatto and Windus, London, 1884.

That shape, too, has changed with time. Although usually depicted as a
curved blade with the sharpened edge on the inside, Perseus's weapon is often
portrayed as a more traditional straight sword. Later, the two became amalga-
mated, and Perseus carried what is commonly called afalchion, a straight sword
with a bill-hook at the tip. This form became the symbol of one of the degrees
in the Mithraic mysteries and ultimately became the canonical form of
Perseus' sword. It is thus armed that Cellini shows him.
 rbe çoRçon in ART
As Furtwangler pointed out in his admirable article
on the Gorgons, the gorgonäon only appears in Greek
art after the geometric period. It does not correspond
exactly to any known foreign type, but there is at least
a possibility that it was created on the basis of an
Egyptian or Syrian form; in any case it received an
entirely individual character in the hands of Greek
artists, and must therefore be considered as a Greek
invention—indeed, as one of the most remarkable
creations of the archaic period.
— H u m f r y Payne,
Necrocorinthia, 1930

DEPICTIONS OF THE GORGON FIRST appeared around the eighth century

B.C.E, and the image has been with us ever since. That's about as far back as
what w e would call Greek art goes, so the Gorgon is indeed one of the oldest
figures in Greek art. As with all images, it has undergone changes through the
years, but most of the important features held constant through classical times.
In 1896 Wilhelm Heinrich Roscher analyzed the Gorgon in art, and his de-
scription of its evolution is still the standard one. According to Roscher, the de-
velopment of the Gorgon can be divided into three stages. The oldest, the
Archaic Gorgon, runs from about the eighth century B.C.E. through about the
fifth. The Gorgons that appear in "The Shield of Hercules" are perfect exam-
ples of Archaic Gorgons. They have wide-open, staring eyes and a broad grin-
ning or snarling mouth filled with prominent teeth, usually with both upper
and lower fangs. Despite the toothy display, there is a prominent, painfully pro-
truding tongue. The extreme facial expression usually produces strongly
drawn lines at the edges of the mouth and on the forehead. Both ears are visi-
ble and sometimes show signs of piercing, as for jewelry The nose is broad and
flat.
T h e hair is usually shown as a series of tight, curled rings above the fore-
head. Sometimes ringlets extend down the sides of the face, occasionally blend-
ing into a beard—pretty surprising for a creature that's supposed to be female.

31
 32 The Mystery

3.1 (top left) Gorgoneion from the interior of an attic KyLix (eye cup), 510-500 B.C.E. Courtesy of
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Henry LiHie Peirce Fund.

3.2 (top right) An excellent example of an archaic Gorgon, from an Attic black-figure vase circa
j6o B.C.E. Note the very large eyes, broad face and nose, lined forehead, stylized hair, and ear-rings.
The mouth has the characteristic grimace, fangs, and protruding tongue, and this gorgoneion has
both a beard and a moustache. Interestingly, both the potter who made this vase, Ergotimus, and
the artist who painted it, Klätias, have signed it. Photograph courtesy of the Metropolitan
Museum of Art, Fletcher Fund, 193,

3.3 (bottom) Gorgoneion in the interior of an Attic black-figure Kylix (eye cup). (Seefigure 9.13 for
the exterior view.) Dated550-500 B.C.E. Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler Museum, Harvard
University Art Museums, bequest of Joseph C. Hoppin.

There is a peculiarity about the Archaic Gorgon that makes it truly unique
in Greek art. Unlike almost any other mythological creature, it is always pre-
sented full-face, glaring directly out of the vase, relief, or antefix at the viewer.
Depictions of heroes and gods from this period almost inevitably show them
in profile. Even in later Greek and Roman art, it was rare to show a full frontal
view of a character. But from the very beginning the Gorgon stared with those
hauntingly large eyes directly at the viewer. There is an eeriness, a power, to
such depictions, especially the emphasis on the eyes, often shown larger rela-
tive to the other facial features than they should be, giving one a sense of a crea-
ture that could truly turn the beholder to stone.
 The Gorgon in Art 33

The Gorgon is often shown only as a face, its round visage filling a shield,
an antefix, a coin, a rounded device on a vase, or the bottom of a bowl. It is as
if its only purpose is to stare and scowl at the viewer.
But not all early Gorgons are shown as heads alone. On vase paintings, the
bodies of Gorgons are sometimes shown in profile, though the heads are still
turned to stare directly out of the vase at the viewer. These Gorgons are usu-
ally shown in a running posture, with curl-topped boots. Growing from their
backs are sickle-shaped wings. Almost invariably these running Gorgons rep-
resent the two immortal sisters, Stheno and Euryale, pursuing the fleeing
Perseus, who has the head of Medusa in his kibisis. The heads of the pursuing
sisters seem to join onto the bodies without the benefit of necks (which makes
you wonder just how much trouble Perseus had in chopping off Medusa's
head), and seem too large for the bodies.
In the next stage defined by Roscher, the Middle or Transitional Gorgon, the
heads shrink relative to the bodies and acquire necks. The general wildness of
the Gorgon's appearance is toned down. This Middle type overlaps with the
Archaic and the Late types, lasting from perhaps the late fifth to the late second
centuries B.C.E.
Finally, the Late or Beautiful Gorgon emerges gradually after the fourth cen-
tury B.C.E. In this stage, the Gorgon is treated more like a traditional figure,
shown in profile and three quarter view. For the first time, Medusa is shown in
sleep, with her eyes closed, so Perseus can behead her. More striking than this
change from a strict frontal orientation, though, is the transformation into a
beautiful Gorgon. No longer does she have a beard and fangs. The rictus grin

3.4 (left), 3.5 (right) Perseus and a pursuing Gorgon, from a black figure ceramic tripod, now in
Berlin. The item is Boeotian and dates from the second quarter of the sixth century B.C.E.

Photograph courtesy of the Antiken Sammlung Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischen

Kulturbesitz.
3.6 (top) and 3.7 (bottom) The evolution of the Gorgon from archaic to late "beautiful" types 0$
shown throughfigureson coins. These coins span a period of about 500 years. Copied from A. B.
Cook's Zeus: A Study in Ancient Religion, vol 3 (1940) h permission of Cambridge University
Press.
 The Gorgon in Art 35

is gone, too, and the scowling stare has been replaced by a softer look. The
Gorgon ceases to be a monster and becomes a young woman. Sometimes, to
emphasize her weirdness, her wings are attached to the decapitated head (mak-
ing her look a bit like the "winged Liberty" on old dimes). In Roman times, the
face grew rounder and plumper and took on a woeful expression. By this time
the Gorgon was no longer a figure of terror, but rather one of pity. It wasn't
until the Renaissance that the horrific Gorgon returned.
Although present-day scholars retain Roscher's three basic divisions, nu-
merous discoveries since his time show that there are odd branches and tribu-
taries in the artistic family tree o f the Gorgon and that even the earliest Gor-
gons had some very odd features.
Some of the earliest images of Gorgons, consisting of heads alone, come
from Corinth. These are bearded figures, displaying the characteristic teeth and
tongues. W h e n we consider that many of the earliest Gorgon images consist
of only faces, that H o m e r s Gorgon also apparently didn't have a body, and that
even full-body Gorgons had oversized, neckless, stylized heads, it is logical to
suppose that Gorgons may have started out as masks. Those oversized heads
on Stheno and Euryale might, after all, be accurate depictions of masked
dancers from some play or ceremony. It would be easy to visualize such crea-
tures full-face, or to depict them as heads alone, if one had the example of full-
face, heads-only masks as inspiration.

3.8 Head of Medusa. A Roman floor mosaic from Ephesus in modern Turkey, circa 440-450 B.C.E.
This is clearly a late-style Medusa. Theface is that of a plump woman, lacking the staring eyes,
fangs, protruding tongue, or the heard. The wings in the hair are also typical of a late Gorgon.
Original is in the museum in Selcuk, Turkey. Photograph courtesy of Erich Lessing/Art
Resource, N. Y.
 36 The Mystery

Although it's rarely mentioned, such Gorgon masks have in fact been found,
and they are among the very earliest depictions we have. Appropriately enough,
they were found at Tiryns—five large, heavy clay masks depicting mon-strous
heads with wide, fanged mouths, broad noses, prominent ears, and bulging
pop-eyes. Although the masks could be worn, the wearers would not have been
able to see through them, since there are no eyeholes. Holes in the chins show
that the masks were originally adorned with beards of real hair.
These masks were found in a sacrificial pit associated with a shrine of Hera
and date from the eighth or ninth century B.C.E. Although they were found over
fifty years ago, so far only one of the masks has been photographically repro-
duced. They have all been on display in the Museum of Nauplia since the 1930s.
The only other place in Greece that has so far yielded life-sized terra cotta
masks is the sanctuary of Artemis Ortheia at Sparta. This site, excavated dur-
ing the first decade of the twentieth century, yielded rich deposits of votive
items, including ivory carvings, statuettes, lead figurines, and several thousand
fragments of terra-cotta masks, comprising over six hundred originals. The
masks date from 550-650 B.C.E. and consist of mold-produced, wearable masks
with eyeholes. Fifteen of the masks have been classified as Gorgons. (Most of
the others are classified as either Warriors, Old Women, or Heroes.)
It is possible that at this early stage it wasn't clear what the body of the
Gorgon should look like. A famous vase found in Boeotia on the Greek main-
land and now on display at the Louvre shows Perseus decapitating a Gorgon
that has the body of a centaur. Perseus is clearly identifiable by his hat and by

3.9 Perseus decapitates a strange Medusa who has the body of a horse. Decoration from a clay
pithos (storage jar) now in the Louvre. The pithos comes from Boeotia and dates from the middle of
the seventh century B.C.E., making this one of our earliest representations of the myth. There exist
two cameos which also depict such a hippogorgon, but otherwise this form of the monster is not
known. Thù may indicate that this depiction dates from a time when the form of the myth had not
yet jelled, and there was no agreement on the form of the body of the Gorgon. Note that she is evi-
dently not sleeping. Perseus is dressed much like Hermes, and carries a straight sword. Photograph
courtesy of Musée du Louvre, Paris. Photograph by M. and R Chuzeville.
 The Gorgon in .Art 37

3.10 Gorgon-headed bird carrying off two youths. Drawing from a black-figure Etruscan hydria
(water jar) now in the Berlin museum. It suggests that at this time the body to which the Gorgon
head was attached was not clearly defined. Copied from A, B. Cook's Zeus: A Study in Ancient
Religion, vol 3 (1940) by permission of Cambridge University Press.

the fact that he faces away from the Gorgon. The Gorgon has a fixed, facing-
out-at-the-audience stare, but its horse's body is almost unique (there are two
other "hippogorgons" that I am aware of, both on early seals). T w o other early
examples (one from Corinth) depict Gorgon heads on bird bodies.
But any confusion or lack of direction in early images disappeared rapidly
enough as the canonical Gorgons with human bodies quickly asserted them-
selves. Examples dating from the same time as these odd figures show the stan-
dard human bodies, along with classic Gorgon heads. One piece deserves spe-
cial mention—a vase found at Eleusis on the mainland that shows Perseus
being pursued by two Gorgons with very unusual heads. These are childishly
drawn, with odd, sideways eyes. Wrapped around their necks and curling over
their temples are snakes. One of the Corinth examples also shows such a
"wraparound" snake. Neither of these pieces really shows a Gorgon with
snakes for hair, but they are the closest thing at this early date. One writer has
interpreted the heads of the Eleusis Gorgons as those of bees. Whatever they
are meant to be, they are unique—the rest of surviving Greek art shows noth-
ing resembling them.
Some of the best-looking early Gorgons appear as reliefs. At Palermo in
Sicily, which was a colony of Corinth, there appeared in the eighth century a
painted panel showing a full-body Gorgon. She is depicted full-face, with the
usual large eyes, broad nose, curled hair, prominent ears, tusks, and protruding
tongue. She has a pair of curled wings springing from her back and curled-top
boots. Held under one crooked arm is a diminutive horse, possibly winged.
Something is clearly missing from the other side—possibly a miniature
Chrysaor. This would seem to definitely identify the Gorgon as Medusa herself.
3-n Painted clay relief of Medusa from Syracuse in Siri/y Medusa holds a tiny figure of Pegasus
in one hand and may originally have held a small figure of Chrysaor in her other. This form of the
myth may violate common sense, since both were born from her neck after Perseus cut off her headf
but it serves to identify the figures and the myth. The painted portions are onpnal, while the un
painted portions are reconstructions. This figure may have been an akroterion (decoration on the
corner of a roof) of a temple of Athena. It dates from the mid-seventh century B.C.E. It is notable
that Syracuse was a colony of Corinth, not far from Argos and Tiryns, and where the myth seems
to have originated. Photograph from Scala/Art Resource, N. Y.

3.12, The pediment of the temple

of Artemis at Corcyra on Corfu.
The triangular space above the
columns and beneath the roof was
dominated by an immense eight-
foot figure of Medusa between two
lions. To her left is a small figure
of Chrysaor, while to her right
there may have been a small figure
of Pergasus, just as in the relief
from Syracuse. The figure and
temple date from the early sixth
century B.C.E. Note the belt of
snakes around her waist
Photograph from Erich
Lessing/Art Resource, N.Y.
 The Gorgon in .Art 39

At Corcyra on the island of Corfu was found a temple dedicated to Artemis.

This dated from the sixth century B.C.E. On the pediment on the western end
(the pediment is the triangular area atop the columns and below the roof) was
a nine-foot-tall figure of a Gorgon. The figure is somewhat softened from that
of Palermo, with more feminine features, but she still has the same arms-
akimbo pose, kneeling on one knee. Although more human, she still possesses
the notables eyes, prominent ears, and protruding tongue. To one side is a small
human figure, almost certainly Chrysaor. There may have been a Pegasus on
the other side—the pediment is not whole. Cinched about her waist like a belt
are two snakes. She is flanked on either side by panthers.
On a temple at Selinus, near Palermo in Sicily, is another Medusa. She is on
a metope (a carved panel on the side of the temple). Like the t w o figures de-
scribed above, she has a classical Gorgon face, directed out at the viewer. She
kneels on one knee and holds a miniature Pegasus, but no Chrysaor (and in this
case the relief is complete enough for us to see that he is not there). Her head
is held by Perseus, w h o stands off to one side grasping her hair (no snakes on
this Gorgon) with his left hand, while with his right he cuts off her head using
a straight sword. Perseus faces forward, probably as much because all the
metope figures face out as because he wants to avoid her petrifying glance. By

3.13 Perseus decapitates Medusa as Athena looks on. A limestone metope (decorative panel) from
Temple C at Silenus, near Palermo in modern-day Sicily. The stiff and formal positions of the
figures give the impression of a very early work, hut it is now thought that the crudeness of the
depiction is due to the limitations of the artist in this Greek colony. The temple dates from the
mid-sixth century B.C.E. Note the absence of a shield, and the obvious fact that Medusa is awake.
Photograph from Art Resource, N.Y.
 3.14 Gorgoneion (Gorgon head,
without the body) from the handle
of a bronze basin, circa 450 B.C.E.
Courtesy of the Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston, Otw Norcross Fund.

3.15 Gorgoneion from the base of a bronze

handle of a hydria (water vessel). Sixth cen-
tury B.c.F. Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler
Milium, Harvard University Art Museums,
David M. Robinson I:und.

3.16 Gorgoneion depicted at the base

of the handle of a vase. Gorgoneia
were often depicted near handles of
vases, jugs, tripods, and chests.
Courtesy of Musée du Louvre.
Photograph by M. and P. Chuzeville.
 The Gorgon in .Art 41

3.17 An early example of the "beautiful" Gorgon, it is seen (unlike archaic Gorgons) in profile, and
lacks the huge eyes, fangs, and protruding tongue of the archaic and Middle Gorgons. A. B. Cook
claimed that this was the earliest known example of a beautiful Gorgon. It is from a red-figure
hydria (water jar) from Kyrenaike, dating from about 475 B.C.E, CopiedfromA. B. Cook's Zeus:
A Study in Ancient Religion, vol. 3 (1940) by permùsion of Cambridge University Press.

his side stands Athena, impassively facing outward as well. For the artist to
place the infant Pegasus in the arms of his mother Medusa before her head has
been sliced off may seem to be a case of "jumping the gun/' but such tele-
scoping of events in order to fit them into a single scene was a common prac-
tice. It is another example of the medium helping to shape the myth.
From the sixth century B.C.E. onward, Gorgons were common figures on pot-
tery. Perseus decapitating Medusa or Stheno and Euryale pursuing the fleeing
Perseus were the most frequent depictions. Often the Gorgon could be found
on a warrior's shield, filling it with her head. Sometimes the G o r g o n s head
would be placed at the bottom of a bowl, filling the round space at the exact
center. Gorgon heads were also placed at the tops of jars, near the handles.
A. B. C o o k places the start of the Beautiful Gorgon depictions at about 475
B.C.E., as shown on a red-figure water jar from Kyrenaike. This shows Perseus
holding up the severed head of Medusa, which is seen in profile. The head
shows none of the usual Gorgon features, but rather seems to be the head of
a normal woman. Apelike (storage jar) from Polygnotos from about the same
period shows Perseus about to cut the head off a sleeping, beautiful Medusa,
observed by Athena. One o f the most striking of the early Beautiful Medusas
is the Rondanini Medusa, a life-sized face of Parian marble, n o w in Munich. It
is believed to be a Roman copy of a Greek original dating from about 400 B.C.E.
and is the first example that has wings attached to the head.
Commentators inevitably try to tie the Beautiful Medusa to Pindar's
Twelfth Pythian Ode. This was a victory song (as were almost all of Pindar's
odes), composed in honor of Midas of Akragas, the winner of a flute-playing
competition in 490 B.C.E. According to ancient historians, Midas's flute broke
 42 The Mystery

during his performance, but he continued to play without the mouthpiece,

winning against the odds. Pindar's ode recalls how Athena was said to have in-
vented the art in imitation of the hissing of the serpents of the Gorgons. In
passing, he mentions how Perseus darkened the eye of the Graiae and killed
one-third of the Gorgons, taking as spoils of war the "broad-cheeked Medoisa's
head." But this can also be translated as "beautiful-cheeked Medoisa," so some
feel that Pindar started the ball rolling for the Beautiful Medusa. This, it seems
to me, places too much importance on a single ambiguous line o f poetry. The
tendency toward a beautiful Medusa would have grown without this impetus.
There are indications of it in several places before it blossomed in literature in
Ovid's Metamorphoses.
The face of the Gorgon appeared on its own so often that it has its o w n spe-
cial name—the Gorgoneion. The staring, daunting face of the Gorgon that is the
Gorgoneion shows up in many circumstances where it is clearly supposed to
be a warning. For example, it has been placed on the doors of ovens and kilns.
One of the most common uses of the face is on anteftxes, the terracotta tiles
that line the edges of Greek and Roman roofs (see Chapter 9). Many people
feel that the row of scowling Gorgon faces was intended to scare away evil in-
fluences. Another common use was as an engraving on gems and cameos,
where it was felt that the scary features worked in the bearer s favor. The gems
with Gorgon faces were thus lucky pieces. Perhaps it was for this reason that
the Gorgoneion appeared on the coins of many Greek cities and colonies. A
Gorgon face used as a talisman to ward off evil is called an apotropaic device.
(The Greek word apotropaios means "to turn away.")
Another place the Gorgoneion appears is on the aegis of Athena. W h a t was
the aegis? Even the ancient artists seemed somewhat unsure. At times it was a
sort o f cloak, while at other times it was Athena's shield. Perseus gave the
Gorgon's head to Athena, and she placed it on her aegis, so it would seem that
all we would need to do to settle the question was to look for the item with the

3.18 Ceramic model of foot with Gorgoneion, <2 The British Museum.
 The Gorgon in .Art 43

3,19 (top left), 3.20 (top right), 3.21 (bottom left), 5.22 (bottom right), Ancient Greek and
Roman coins with G o d w i n . The British Museum.

Gorgon's head. But sometimes this is her cloak, and sometimes the shield.
Sometimes it is both cloak and shield, each bearing a Gorgon head. To make
matters more confusing, the aegis was originally said to belong to Zeus. But
he is never shown with either a Gorgon-emblazoned shield or cloak.
So what was the aegis? Professor William Ridgeway of Cambridge Univer-
sity thought he had the answer, as expounded in 1900 at a meeting of the Hel-
lenic Society. The aegis, he declared, was the skin of an animal, probably a goat,
with the head still attached. A hole was cut into the back, through which the
wearer placed his own head. The head of the goat then hung down over the
chest, its own head forming the Gorgon face. Ridgeway displayed an African
goatskin, worn in this fashion by the Dyaks, as an example.
Some accepted this explanation. There seemed to be some support for it in
the myth that Zeus fashioned the aegis from the skin of Amalthea, the goat
that suckled him (and whose horn became the cornucopia—the inexhaustible
horn of plenty). Besides, aegis closely resembles dix, meaning "goat." In addi-
tion, the theory has the advantage of being promulgated by Herodotus, who
said that the Libyan women wore such a tasseled goatskin, and that this was
the origin of Athena's aegis. One story has it that Athena fought a fire-breath-
ing monster named Aegis, killed it, skinned it, and wore its tough skin as pro-
tection ever after—but the one who tells this story is the ever-untrustworthy
Dionysius Skytobrachion. And he is the only one to tell it (aside from Diodorus
Siculus, who quotes him). Somewhat similar stories, however, are told by
Apollodorus, who says that Athena skinned a scaly giant named Pallas, and
Cicero, who says that Pallas was the father of Athena and tried to rape her.
In fact, the aegis as represented in art never looks like a goatskin, apart from
a single example—an Etruscan mirror dating from the fourth century B.C.E.
that shows Athena with a goatskin draped over her. The head and front hooves
3.23 (top left) Hercules choosing between Virtue and Vice (Virtue represented by Athena, who is
identified by "Menrfa" — Minerva on her gown), a fourth-century Etruscan mirror found at
Tarquinil Athena's aegis is drawn as a goat-skin, as Ridgeway has suggested, but note that there
is a Gorgonäon in addition to the goat's head. Copied from A. B. Cook's Zeus: A Study in
Ancient Religion, vol. j (1940) by permission of Cambridge University Press,

3.24 (top right) Terra-cotta image of the aegisfromthe Tomb of the Erotes, fourth century B.C.E.

Eretria in Greece. This palm-sized lenticular image might be intended to represent a shield. Note
the wings behind the head of Medusa and the face that now looks very human. This marks this as
a late-style Gorgon. The surface of the aegis is covered with feather-like or scale-like patterning.
Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Catharine Page Perkins Fund.

3.25 (bottom) Terra-cotta image of the aegis from the Tomb of the Erotes, fourth century B.C.E.
Eretria in Greece. This image is similar tofigure3.24, except that the aegis is round, rather than
lenticular. Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Catharine Page Perkins Fund.
 The Gorgon in .Art 45

3.26 Set of miniature shields from the Tomb of the Erotes in Eretria, Greece. Fourth century B.C.E.
Note that seven of these are aeges. Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Catharine Page
Perkins Fund.

hang down visibly—and well below her chest. Furthermore, in addition to the
goat head there is a perfect Gorgon's head visible upon her chest, complete
with protruding tongue. That detail clearly wouldn't be necessary if the goat
head were the Gorgon head of the aegis. Archaeologists have generally been
skeptical of Ridgeway's assertion. "[There is] no proof that a goat-skin was ever
'the ordinary dress' at Athens," A. B. C o o k noted dryly.
As depicted by artists, the aegis was either a smooth breastplate with a
prominent (though small) Gorgon head in the center, or a shield with a Gorgon
head at the center. The surface of the shield was covered with small texturing
that sometimes resembled scales, sometimes feathers, sometimes ambiguous
items that could be either. C o o k thinks this a holdover from the two animals
most closely associated with Athena—the owl and the snake.
The aegis is identified in The Iliad with the thundercloud of Zeus. Since the
aegis belonged to Zeus, god of the sky, thunder, and lightning, it is reasonable
that his shield should be the clouds themselves. Aùsso means "to rush or move
violently," like the storm, and many feel this formed the basis for the aegis.
Following this line of reasoning, German mythologists saw the lightning in the
"flashing eyes" of the Gorgon, and the thunder as its roaring (represented by
the protruding tongue).
 46 The Mystery

If the ancient Greek Gorgon didn't have snakes in place of hair, then where
did the idea come from? When did Medusa receive her snakes? Throughout
classical times, the general picture of the Gorgon didn't include snaky hair, al-
though almost from the start snakes were among its attributes, often entwined
in its hair. I've already pointed out some of the early artwork that supports this
interpretation, but there is literary evidence as well. One myth of Hercules
(which we will refer to at greater length in Chapter 7) relates that when he was
at the city of Tegea in Attica, Hercules received from Athena a bronze jar con-
taining a lock of the Gorgons hair. If this were held up three times, an enemy
who beheld it would flee. The story is reported by both Apollodorus and
Pausanias, and Tegean coins show Athena handing over the lock of hair. So the
Gorgons, by this argument, definitely had hair. At the same time, Pindar's
Twelfth Pythian Ode notes how Athena invented the flute in imitation of the
"deathly dirge" of the Gorgon. Everyone has taken this to mean the hissing of
the Gorgon s serpents.
Some of the earliest Gorgons had snakes wrapped around their waists
(Corfu) or around their heads and under their chins (Eleusis, Corinth). But
these Gorgons had hair as well as snakes. From the fourth century B.C.E. on-
ward, snakes began to be placed around the periphery of the Gorgon's head—
sometimes just above the head, behind the hair, but sometimes encircling the
entire head. These snakes would be bent into S-shapes, arising unnaturally
from the edges of the head. The use of this convention extended into Roman
times and seems to be a way of indicating the snake-associated nature of the
Gorgon. Whether it was intended to indicate actual snakes in the hair of the
Gorgon, that is what it eventually came to mean. The Rondanini Medusa has
snakes entwined in her hair.
Snakes that have totally supplanted the hair of the Gorgon seem to appear
only on coins, possibly because there really isn't very much room on a coin to
fit in both snakes and hair. The bulk of Gorgons on Greek coins have only hair.
But a silver drachma of Abydos dating from 450-480 B.C.E. has only snakes
around its head, while a silver drachma of Apollonia ad Rhyndacum in Mysia,
from around 300-400 B.C.E., looks very similar. Coins from Tarsus in present-
day Turkey, issued about 120 C.E., depict Perseus (held to be the founder of
Tarsus, as well, by that date) holding the head of the Gorgon, her scalp covered
with snakes. A bronze coin issued by Seleukos in Nikator in 312-280 B.C.E. shows
very natural-looking snakes covering a Beautiful-type Gorgon head, as does a
Roman denarius issued by L. Cossutius Sabula about 54 B.C.E. Nevertheless, in
larger works of art, the snakes clearly remained supplemental to ordinary hair
throughout Greek and Roman times. Only in an occasional literary description
and on coins did classical Gorgons have snakes in place of hair. It was not un-
til the Renaissance that Gorgons lost their hair altogether.
The early Gorgon reliefs listed above often showed Medusa together with
diminutive figures of Chrysaor and/or Pegasus, indicating that she was their
mother. But these Medusas conspicuously retained their heads, so the scenes
are really more thematic than representative. By the fifth century B.C.E., illus-
trations of the myth were becoming more "realistic," as if depicting a frozen
3.27 Perseus decapitates Medusa as Hermes looks on. This drawing is based Ott an Attic black-
figure vase now in the British Museum. It is signed "Amasis, " and dates from the middle of the
sixth century b.c.e. As in some early depictions, Hermes, rather than Athena, is the helper of
Perseus, and the two dress alike. Medusa, again, is awake during the attack. Notice that she does
not have snakes in place of her hair, but that her head is surrounded by a stylized fringe of coiled
snakes. Photograph reprinted from Jocelyn M. Woodward's Perseus: A Study in Greek. Art and
Legend (1937), cowrtwv of Cambridge University Press.

3.28 {tali 1 f;ni£nu*nfdry M n j r relief with Gorgoneion, #0-500 B.C.E, A fine example of an archaic
Gorgon. Note the fringe of curlcd snakes around the edge of the head, not in place of the hair,
Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Henry Lillie Pierce Fund.

3.29 (right) Black vase with large Gorgoneion at neck. © The British Museum.
 48 The Mystery

moment from a play. The birth of Chrysaor and Pegasus from the neck of
Medusa was not an easy thing to depict, and illustrations of that event are not
common. A few artists did attempt to show it, however. Maybe they were at-
tracted by the outré subject matter and the challenge to somehow fit every-
thing in.
A sarcophagus now at Cyprus, an amphora now in Munich, and an Etruscan
gem carving all try to show small figures of a man and a horse literally emerg-
ing from the stump of the neck. A terra-cotta relief from Melos, now m the
British Museum, shows only Chrysaor springing from the neck. In all of these
cases, Chrysaor is a fully grown, if diminutive, figure. Almost 110 one tries to
show him as a baby. In the last-named image, Perseus uncharacteristically rides
a horse. This has led some commentators to brand the horse Pegasus, In view
of the fact that there were attempts even in the ancient world to scramble the
myths and have Perseus obtain Pegasus before killing Medusa» this is possible.
But since Hesiod (and Apollodorus, who follows him) are our only sources for
the odd birth of Chrysaor, and they say that Pegasus was born at the same time,
this seems unlikely As 1 will show in Chapter 7, persistent attempts were made
to associate horses with Perseus (and his parallels), so it was not really unusual
for the Melos relief to put him on a horse.
An Etruscan vase (now in Florence) shows a full-grown Pegasus traveling
away from the decapitated Medusa. Another, wingless horse appears tobe leav-
ing the neck as well. Did this painter misunderstand Hesiod? Or is this some
odd local variant?
A red figure vase from Nola shows Perseus fleeing with Mercury and
Athena. (Athena is recognizable by her aegis, which already has a Gorgoneion
on it, despite the fact that Perseus is carrying a laden kibisis, presumably with
the head of Medusa in it. ) He is pursued by Stheno and Euryale, the two living
Gorgons. Slumped at the base of a column is the headless Medusa. Above her

*tiB
mm
 HHHl
HHHB

w ^ m

3.31 (top), 3.32 (bottom) Perseits^fett/rom the Gorgons. He holds his harpe and the kibisis, and
is preceded by Hermes as they run toward Athena. Athena can be recognized by her snake-fringed
aegis, which, paradoxically; already contains the head of the Gorgon. On the other side of the vase
Stheno and Euryale pursue, while the headless body of Medusa slumps against a column. Nearby
are miniature figures of Pegasus and Chrysaor, who have evidently just been born from her neck.
The drawing appears on a black-figure vase from Nola, now at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.
Sketch reproduced from A, B. Cook's Zeus: A Study in Ancient Religion by permission of
Cambridge University Press. Photograph courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Henry Lillie
Pierce Fund.
 50 The Mystery

flies the winged Pegasus, and near her rests Chrysaor, looking more babylike
than in any other depiction. Both figures are still small, befitting newborns, but
at least they are spared the grotesque position of being in Medusa's neck.
Other elements of the myth of Perseus were also popular artistic subjects (al-
though none matches the Gorgoneion, the Gorgon s head, for sheer volume).
These other elements were first depicted starting in the fifth century B.C.E., af-
ter the earliest Gorgons and Gorgon-killings. A red-figure Attic kalyx-krater, dat-
ing from the early fifth century and now in St. Petersburg, shows Zeus de-
scending upon Danae in the form o f a shower of gold—actually two parallel
streams of drops—as she reclines on an ornately carved bed. On the opposite

3.33 (top), 3.34 (bottom) Danae being impregnated by Zeus in the form of a shower of gold, and
Danae and Perseus being shut up in the chest by Acrisius and a Carpenter.; Both illustrations from
an Attic red-figure Kalyx Krater now in St. Petersburg. Fifth century BX.E. Reprinted from Jocelyn
M. Woodward's Perseus: A Study in G r e e k Art and Legend (1937), courtesy of Cambridge
University Press,
 The Gorgon in .Art 51

side of the amphora, Danae and a young Perseus are being shut up in the chest
by Acrisius, prior to being thrown into the sea. A slightly later version of the
scene, displayed now in Oxford, survives only as a fragment that shows Danae
in the chest, with the staff and part of the robe of Acrisius visible to one side.
Depictions of the Graiae are rare. The most famous is probably on a late-
fifth-century red-figured pyxis (a small, squat container often used for oint-
ments) now at the National Museum in Athens. Perseus reclines between two
of the Graiae, his hand reaching upward toward the outstretched hand of one

3.35 (top) Danae and Perseus being sealed in the chest by Acrisius and the Carpenter, Red-figure
Attic hydria (water vessel) from Gela, circa 490 B.C.E. Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts,
Boston, Francis Bartlett Fund.

3.36 (bottom) Danae being impregnated by Zeus in theform of a golden shower. Attic red-figure
vase, circa 430 B.C.E. Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Otis Norcross Fund.
 • »;"./• : 'V h
• -V y

3-37 Figures of Danae being impreg-

If
nated as depicted on carved gems from
J
the fourth and fifth century B.C.E. and a
coin from the time of Hadrian. Danae is
identified by her name. Copied from A. B.
Cooks Zeus: A Study in Ancient
V
Religion, voi j (1940) by permission of
Cambridge University Press.

éÈÊ^mm*

Ë^Bpp
^ w i m s m M m

3.38 Perseus steals the eye of the Graiae on the lid of an Attic red-figure pyxis (small box for trin-
kets or ointment), datingfrom the fifth century B.C.E., now in the National Museum in Athens.
Perseus, holding two spears, creeps up as one of the Graiae passes the eye to the other two and tries
to intercept it. Note that the Graiae are depicted with no eyes in their sockets, but otherwise look
like attractive women, näther old nor swan-like. Athena and Hermes stand by, as do Poseidon
(with his dolphins) and an old man who some identify as Phorkys, the father of the Graiae. Depic-
tions of the Graiae are very rare. Drawing reprinted from Jocelyn M. Woodward's Perseus: A
Study in G r e e k A r t and Legend (3937), courtesy of Cambridge University Press.
 The Gorgon in .Art 53

of che maiden sisters. In that hand she has a rather oversized eye, which an-
other of the Graiae is reaching for. Perseus already has his helmet, harpe, and
winged sandals, as well as t w o spears. Nearby are Hermes, Athena, Phorkys,
and Poseidon. The Graiae are depicted as neither old nor grotesque. In fact, in
none of the known or suggested representations of them do the Graiae appear
to be monstrous in any w a y
Much more popular are scenes showing Perseus rescuing Andromeda.
These scenes have, in fact, evolved through the years. T h e earliest such figure
is surprisingly old, coming from a black-figure amphora of the second quarter
of the sixth century BX.E. Appropriately, it is Corinthian, although it was found
in an Etruscan tomb. A nearly naked Perseus stands in the center, winged san-
dals on his feet, hat on his head, and kibisis over one arm. He is throwing stones
at the sea monster, w h o is shown only as a head. That head, somewhat wolflike,
with a long tongue, is as big as Perseus. Andromeda stands on his other side.
Significantly, she is not shackled to a rock—she has her hands full of stones,
too. We can be sure of w h o the characters are, because their names are writ-
ten beside them, using the odd Corinthian letters—the S looks like an M, the
E like a B, and the M like a caret. With that prompting, w e can read KETOS,
PERSEUS, and ANDROMEDA, even though the last two are written mirror-
image. This image is unique. Nothing quite like it exists elsewhere.
Later images, it has been suggested, were strongly influenced by the plays
of Phrynichus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes. W e know more about
Euripides' play, first produced in 412 B.C.E., than the others, even though the full

3.39 PerseusfightsKetos, the sea mon-

ster, while Andromeda looks on. A
Corinthian black-figure amphora dating
from the sixth century B.C.E. This is the
earliest illustration we have of this scene.
It differsfromthe later depictions in that
Andromeda is not bound to a rock, and in
the way an almost naked Perseus fights
Ketos by throwing rocks at the monster.
Perseus cames the kibisis on one arm,
winged sandals on his feet, and a
Hermes-like cap. Ketos looks wolf-like.
ReprintedfromJocelyn M. Woodward's
Perseus: A Study in Greek Art and
Legend (1937), courtesy of Cambridge
University Press.
 54 The Mystery

3,40 Person ?<'.ku£s AnAionnda. /t w^l! jmpîîih^ fwm Pompai, non- En ihc Xaiimal Museum m
Naples, Firs i rt'»Knfv ( ' K .HÎKV ÎÏY/ thai ikiï is r, copv oj a joutih icntuty vrtpnal by the
fourth-centuj v /lr^rn/.JH ï?Îrrr .Nih.-i.ï, rtifhliencJ by Pliny. But the style and depiction
dearly are cf hit? >tviV. The t-m^Jw «is (c on flu'fanrcsW /Vrsfio ctnd Arutr<.mWij. 'Ihc head of
Medusa is irictrdiblv fmy dn<! wry hu l^snc ^^'orA is nnrhe? Jtrajgtft pun amvti, but has
acquired the hybridformof the falchion. The sen mottsîrr Kfto expires almost off-stage in the btU'fe-
ground. Photograph courtesy of Afituiri/Art /toouref, NX

text has not survived. Although existing fragments and references don't say
anything about Andromeda's being chained to a rock as a sacrifice (the earliest
references to that date from the first century RX.E.), she is usually depicted that
way after Euripides' time. Perseus is shown descending toward her or fighting
Keios. In Roman limes, he is shown freeing Andromeda from the rock, with
the dead or dying Ketos in the background.
Finally, Perseus's victorious return home is depicted on a bell krater in
Bologna. This shows him holding up the Gorgon's head before the evil Poly-
dektes, turning him into stone. Perseus gave the Gorgoneion to Athena, and on
some vases from southern Italy she is shown studying the head by its reflection
in a pool of water (rather than in a shield).
 4
PARAlleLS fROOTf AROUDD
r h e CUORLO
In order seriously to substantiate this interpretation it
would be necessary to investigate the origin of this
isolated symbol of horror in Greek mythology as well
as parallels in other mythologies.
— Sigmund Freud,
Medusa's Head, 1922

STRIKING P A R A L L E L S TO T H EGreek Gorgon can be found in mythologies

around the world. Any serious investigation of the origin of the Gorgon has to
examine these figures as well. Before we take a look, however, it would be good
to ask what constitutes a Gorgon parallel.
No single definition precisely fits all the different examples. (I am tempted
to say that I know a parallel when I see one.) A true parallel should have a num-
ber of features in common with the Gorgon myth, and few with anything else
(aside from another Gorgon parallel, of course). To place one of the best ex-
amples first, consider the face in the center of the Aztec Calendar Stone. This
is the face of the sun, usually taken to be the deity Tonatiuh, although more
recently it has been suggested that the face is that of Xochipilli-Piltzintecuhtli.1
The figure is a frontal depiction of a wide-eyed, staring face with a broad
nose. The forehead is marked with lines, and the hair is carefully and stylisti-
cally portrayed. The mouth is wide open in a painful grimace, from which the
tongue protrudes grotesquely The head even wears earrings, as do many
Gorgoneia.
The previous paragraph gives a perfect description of an Archaic Gorgon.
About all that's missing are the fangs and the occasional beard. The head on the
Aztec Calendar Stone is, in fact, a closer match to the Archaic Gorgon than are
later Roman Gorgons. It is a closer match than the Kirtimukkha of India (to
which many readily acknowledge the Gorgon to be related), and it more closely
resembles the Archaic Gorgon than does the face of the ancient Babylonian de-
mon Humbaba (which many believe to be the true ancestor of the Gorgon).
Yet how can this be? The Archaic Gorgon flourished in the seventh to fifth
centuries B.C.E. in Greece and gradually metamorphosed into the sentimental

55
4-1 (top) The Cuauhxicalli ("Eagle's Bowl") found at Mexico City in 1760. Usually called the
Aztec Calendar Stone, it was dedicated in 1479 C.E., and is decorated with images depicting the
days and eras. The face in the center is the sun, although exactly which deity remains unclear. It is
usually taken to be Tonatiuh, but it has been suggested that it might be Xochipilli-Piltzintecuhtli.
With its large, staring eyes, its gritted teeth and protruding tongue, its broadf lined face and styl-
ized hair, this resembles an archaic Gorgon to an astonishing degree. It is even closer to the archaic
Greek Gorgon than later Greek or Roman examples. Michel Zabe/Art Resource, N.Y.

4.2 (bottom) Sketch of the face at the center of the Aztec Calendar Stone, from Cecelia F. Klein's
T h e Face o f the Earth. Courtesy of the Garland Publishing.
 Parallels from Around the World 57

"Beautiful" type beloved of the Romans. The Aztec Calendar Stone was dedi-
cated in 1479 c.E. in what is today Mexico City. (We know the date of its dedi-
cation because it is carved on the stone itself, appropriately enough.) The t w o
images are separated by two thousand years and thirteen thousand miles.
There is no obvious link between them (although that has not stopped people
from speculating about such a link), yet there they undeniably are. Without a
doubt, the face of the Aztec sun is an artistic parallel to the Gorgon.
O n the other hand, there are cases where the resemblance is less clear.
Mythologist A. B. C o o k said that the earliest example of a Gorgon he knew of
was on a Minoan seal in his own collection, dating from about 1800 B.C.E. The
seal depicted a front view of a broad face. Yet it is claiming a lot to proclaim
this a "Gorgon." Minoan culture is distinct from Greek culture in both time
and space. And we know of no artifact that bridges the temporal or stylistic
gap between Cook's sole example and the earliest Corinthian Gorgoneia. More
to the point, I doubt if Cook's seal even is a Gorgon parallel. It lacks the broad
mouth, fangs, and protruding tongue, and the eyes are not emphasized as they
are in the Gorgon and its legitimate parallels elsewhere. I hesitate to quarrel
with a scholar of Cook's caliber, yet I believe he is w r o n g on this one. 2
As another example, consider the Babylonian figures found at Tell Asmar
near Baghdad. N o one claims that these are parallels to the Gorgons, but I bring
them up because they have one important feature in common with the Gor-
gon—their huge, staring, spooky eyes. The eyes are enormous relative to the
rest o f the head, and the pupils look odd because they are actually openings cut
into the figure. There is something compelling and eerie about these idols,
which affect one in the same way that the staring eyes of Archaic Gorgons do.
Yet clearly they are not Gorgons. These figures lack almost all the other aspects
of the Gorgon—wide-open mouth, tongue, broad nose, emphasis on the frontal
aspect.
Not every Gorgon parallel described below will have all the features of the
Gorgon, but most will, I think, be similar enough in appearance, condition, or
mythology to warrant identifying them as legitimate parallels.

Parallels in Greece and Rome

Phobos and Eurynomos

Looking at those early, bearded Gorgon heads, one has to wonder whether the
artists intended them to represent one of the three sisters Medusa, Stheno, and
Euryale. They clearly aren't female, and there's no clue as to the type of body
they should have. There's no indication that there should be three of them, or
of h o w they fit into mythology. There is no suggestion of Perseus or of decap-
itation. As I've pointed out, many scholars believe that the idea of the Gorgon's
head originated first, and that only later did a body (and a mythology) become
attached to it. Thus the head of the Monster from Hell in H o m e r s Odyssey and
those early bodiless Gorgoneia led to the myth of Perseus, which explained how
 58 The Mystery

that head came to be separated from its body. But what if some of the heads
were originally intended to represent some figure other than a Gorgon? What
if the original artists had something else in mind?
One possibility is suggested by the face of Phobos. Phobos was one of the
two sons of Ares, the god of war. His name means "fear," and that of his brother,
Deimos, means "panic." The names themselves seem little more than allegori-
cal—of course fear and panic would be the children of war. Bolstering this no-
tion that the names don't really mean much is the fact that Phobos and Deimos
rarely show up in either literature or art, and they have no myths associated with
them. There are no images generally recognized as depictions of them.
So why should I think that Phobos is one inspiration for the face of the
Gorgon? The theory rests largely on two literary passages. One of these ap-
pears in "The Shield of Hercules" and describes the figure at the very center of
the shield. No visual representation of this shield survives, but the author de-
scribes it in terms that are vivid enough: "In the center was Fear (Phobos)
worked in adamant, unspeakable, staring backwards with eyes that glowed
with fire. His mouth was full of teeth in a white row, fearful and daunting, and
upon his grim brow hovered frightful Strife/'3 The description is a perfect one
for the Archaic Gorgon. The unknown author of "The Shield of Hercules" can-
not be mistaking the face of the Gorgon for that of Fear, since he describes the
Gorgons themselves a little later—but note the provocative last lines:

And after him [Perseus] rushed the Gorgons, unapproachable and unspeakable,
longing to seize him: as they trod upon the pale adamant, the shield rang sharp
and clear with a loud clanging. Two serpents hung down at their girdles with
heads curved forward: their tongues were flickering, and their eyes glaring
fiercely. And upon the awful heads of the Gorgons great Fear (Phobos) was quak-
ing.4

Could this mean that the face of the Gorgon was identical to that of Fear? Or
does it merely mean that the face of Fear occupied the center of the shield?
In the fifth book of The Iliad, Homer describes the aegis of Athena:

. . . All around
Upon it in a garland Rout was figured,
Enmity, Force, and Chase that chills the blood,
concentered on the Gorgon's head, reptilian
seething Fear (Phobos)—a portent of the stormking.5

Once again the face of the Gorgon is compared to Fear itself, suggesting that
the representations of the two were identical.
These are the only passages I have found that suggest an appearance for
Phobos, and they do not seem to have been copied in any other texts or by any
other artists.
Another literary description of a lost artistic rendering is also provocative.
Pausanias, writing about the central Grecian city of Delphi (home of the fa-
mous oracle), describes the building called the Lesche ("clubhouse"), where
the Delphians met to tell old tales. Appropriately, the walls were painted with
scenes from the works of Homer, rendered by an artist named Polygnotos.
 Parallels from Around the World 59

In a scene set in Hades is a figure whom Pausanias says the locals called
Eurynomos. He is described as a demonic spirit of Hades who eats the flesh of
the dead, leaving only the bones. Pausanias notes that Homer's works did not
describe such a demon. Nevertheless, for the benefit of his readers, Pausanias
describes the figure—it was blue-black in color ("like the flies that settle on
meat," noted Pausanias in a particularly graphic simile), and "he shows his
teeth." Admittedly, this isn't much on which to base an identification of
Eurynomos as an alternative Gorgon-head, but I note that the passage being il-
lustrated here deals with Odysseus's descent into Hades, which is precisely the
circumstance in which he was threatened with the head of the Gorgon in
Homer—so perhaps the Delphic Eurynomos is simply the mainland garb of
the Argive/ Corinthian Gorgon.

The Graiae, the Fates, the Furies,

the Praxidikae, and Hecate

Greek mythology abounds in triple goddesses. Some see an underlying reason

for this—the mystic significance of the number three, for instance, or an em-
bodiment of the Three Ages of Woman (Maiden, Mother, Crone). Regardless
of the true reason, the mere fact that all these groups are trios gives them an
apparent resemblance to the three Gorgons. Even if there had been no resem-
blance originally I think that the numerical connection would have prompted
an assimilation of features. In any case, there clearly are similarities.
I have already introduced the Graiae, also called the Phorkides after their
father, Phorkys. They are the closest parallel to the Gorgons, even having the
same parents. Hesiod and Ovid mention only two Graiae, although Phere-
kydes and those who follow him make them three. They are named Pem-
phredo ("wasp"), Enyo ("warlike"), and Deino ("terrible"), names that don't
seem suited to the gentle and beautiful women depicted in art. They might be
more applicable if, as I suggested earlier, the Graiae were originally a variation
on the Gorgons, monsters whom Perseus was sent to defeat by stealing their
eye and/or tooth, just as, in the more familiar version, he was sent to take the
head of Medusa. The two versions could have coalesced to give us the story as
we know it today.
The Fates (Moerae) are probably more familiar to modern audiences than
the other triple goddesses. They were popular subjects in art from the Renais-
sance onward. The symbolism of Clotho, who spins the thread of life, Lachesis,
who measures its length, and Atropos, who cuts it off, is obvious, immediate,
and powerful, making it perhaps inevitable that the three would become a pop-
ular subject.
The Fates are usually depicted as three serene, white-robed women, super-
beings who go calmly about the thankless business of determining how long
people should live. Why, then, should I include them here? There is evidence
that this gentle picture of the Fates, like that of the equally genteel Graiae, may
be a later modification of a more savage original trio. "The Shield of Hercules,"
for example, presents a graphically different picture of the three:
 60 The Mystery

the dusky Fates, gnashing their white fangs,

lowering, grim, bloody, and unapproachable,
struggled for those who were falling, for they
all were longing to drink dark blood. .. . Clotho and
Lachesis were over them and Atropos less tall than
they, a goddess of no great frame, yet superior
to the others and the eldest of them. And they all
made a fierce fight over one poor wretch, glaring
evilly at one another with furious eyes and fighting
equally with claws and hands.6

The Erinyes, also known as the Eumenides, are perhaps better known to us
as the Furies. The first name, meaning "the angry ones," is the more accurate.
Eumenides, which means "kindly ones," was a form used to avoid upsetting
the vengeful creatures, w h o punished murderers and oath-breakers, with their
most famous appearance coming in Aeschylus' play The Eumenides. The num-
ber of Furies varies from source to source in early records; Virgil is the first to
number them at three and to name them. Apollodorus follows him in this. The
names given are Tisiphone ("vengeful destruction"), Alecto ("unnameable"),
and Megaera ("grudge").
Jane Harrison claimed, back in 1903, that Aeschylus was the one responsible
for giving a concrete form to the Erinyes, w h o originally seem to have been a
vague manifestation of conscience. Aeschylus' plays The Libation Bearers and
The Eumenides (first presented in 408 B.C.E.), which dealt with the aftermath of
Orestes' murder of his mother Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus (who
had, in turn, murdered Orestes' father Agamemnon), required that the aveng-
ing creatures appear onstage. The descriptions in his works are somewhat con-
tradictory:

. .. they come like gorgons, they wear robes of black,

and are wreathed in a tangle of snakes.7

. . . I think I call them rather gorgons, only not

gorgons either, since their shape is not the same
they are black and utterly repulsive, and they snore
with breath that drives one back. From their eyes
drips the foul ooze. . . .8

Vase paintings thought to be inspired by these scenes somewhat clarify the

confusion. In them, the Furies are depicted as not-unattractive, occasionally
winged women. True to the description, they sometimes have snakes wrapped
around them. Harrison thought the foul ooze must be identical to the power
that caused the Gorgons to petrify men, but I shall present a different inter-
pretation in Chapter 10.
Euripides, in his own play Orestes, presented fifty years after those of Aes-
chylus, doesn't describe the Furies, noting only that they had wings. But Virgil,
in The Aeneid, draws a different and dramatic picture. His Furies live in Hades,
like H o m e r s Gorgon, and look more like the modern conception of the
Gorgon:
 Parallels from Around the World 61

. », From the dark underworld.

Home of the Furies,
she [Juno, queen of the gods] aroused Alecto. . ..

Even her father Pluto hates this figure,

Even her hellish sisters, for her myriad
Faces, for her savage looks, her head Alive and black with snakes, . .

Without delay Alecto,

Dripping venom deadly as the Gorgon's,
Passed into Latium . ..

. . . Now the goddess

Plucked one of the snakes, her gloomy tresses,
And tossed it at the woman.9

No one seems to have developed Virgil's image of the Furies, either in art or
literature. The image of a Gorgonlike Fury is to be found only on rare occa-
sions.10
The Praxidikae are not at all well known today. No myths about them sur-
vive, and they are not even mentioned in most books on mythology. But they
were important enough to rate more than one shrine at Haliartos in Boeotia,
just above the Gulf of Corinth. The Haliartians called the Praxidikae the
Workers of Right. Their name seems to imply that they served the same func-
tion as the Furies, although they evidently didn't have as good a press agent.
Even Pausanias, from whom we learn these facts, admitted that he was unable
to find examples of people who had suffered their vengeance.
From other sources we glean a little more. Some speak of a single goddess,
Praxidike, but according to others there were three, named Alkomenia, Thel-
xinia, and Aulis. Perhaps it is significant that Alalkomenia was the name of a
small village near Haliartos.
The Praxidikae were represented by heads, although no examples seem to
have survived. Animals were beheaded as sacrifices to them, a circumstance
that increases the similarity to Gorgons and (as we shall see) to other Gorgon
parallels.
Beyond these few clues, there really is no definite information about the
Praxidikae. But there is an odd little work by the third-century B.C.E. poet
Theocritus of Syracuse. His Fifteenth Idyll, entitled "The Women at the
Adonis Festival," is a somewhat comic look at a pair of housewives attending
a religious fair in the city of Alexandria, gossiping and commenting on the
sights. What makes this dialogue interesting is the names of the housewives.
One is named Gorgo. Surprisingly enough, despite its undeniable mythologi-
cal association with a horrible monster, Gorgo was a common female name.
There are several mythological Gorgos who are not monsters. Plenty of in-
scriptions also bear the name, testifying that it was in use as a real, everyday ap-
pellation. So its not surprising, really, that one of Theocritus' housewives bears
that name. What is surprising is that her companion is named Praxinoa, which
is usually translated as something like "busy mind," but which also definitely
 62 The Mystery

evokes the name Praxidike as well. Can it be purely coincidental that Theocri-
tus has named his heroines after mythical figures that are represented by faces
on a wall?
Consider also Praxinoa's line: "Ever since I was a little girl, two things have
frightened me more than anything else, a horrid slimy snake and a horse." 1 1
This line evokes both the snakes that accompanied the Gorgons (even if they
didn't substitute for hair) and Pegasus, born from Medusa's neck.
T h e goddess Hecate originally didn't have much in common with the
Gorgon. She was the protectress of crossroads. A "crossroads" in this connec-
tion might be a place where three roads met (or, more accurately, where a mi-
nor road dead-ended into a longer, continuing road), so figures of Hecate had
three faces, and she was called Hecate Trevia—Hecate of the Three Roads. She
gradually became connected with darkness and magic. By Roman times she
was sometimes described (although, as far as I am aware, never portrayed in
art) with a Gorgon s head.

Parallels Elsewhere

Egypt

W h e n mythologists searched about for candidates from which the Gorgon

might be derived, they quickly seized upon the Egyptian deity Bes. Bes is surely
one of the strangest figures in the Egyptian pantheon—which is already
crammed full of such peculiar characters as the ox-headed Khnum, the jackal-
headed Anubis, the cow-horned Hathor, and the falcon-headed Horus. These
other deities, along with most Egyptian figures, are generally represented in
profile, their bodies stiffly posed. From the start, however, Bes has been shown
looking straight out o f the stone or the papyrus at the viewer. He is practically
the only Egyptian figure to be portrayed en face—a feature he shares with the
full-face Gorgon. Other shared features are the large, staring eyes, broad nose,
beard, and protruding tongue. Also, like the Gorgon, Bes is often represented
as a bodiless head.
Unfortunately, w e don't know a great deal more about Bes. As Egyptologist
Max Muller has noted, "A very rich mythology must have attached to this
strange personality, but since it flourished in oral tradition only, it is left to
our fancy to guess the stories." Bes seems to have been part animal—he is fre-
quently depicted with a tail, with pointed animal ears, with his beard formed
in a lionlike mane. He is chubby and short, a dwarf, with a facial expression
that runs the gamut from vaguely cheerful to somewhat forbidding.
Representations of him date back to about 2000 B.C.E., making him older
than Cook's Minoan face. His name first appears in the Pyramid texts about
1500 B.C.E. He seems to have been a peasant deity, a sort of blue-collar god,
which probably explains our shortage of literature about him. He was a pop-
ular figure with workers up through Roman times. Even when the religious
heretic pharaoh, Amenhotep IV changed his name to Akhenaton in 1370 B.C.E.,
 ParallelsfromAround the World 63

4.3 Head of the Egyptian god Bes from a sword

pommel Blue paste, no date. Like the Gorgon, Bes
was always depicted staring out at the viewer, rather
than in profile, as the other Egyptian deities were. He
also almost invariably had a protruding tongue and
oversized eyes. Photograph courtesy of the Museum
of Fine Arts, Boston.

4.4 Statue of Bes. An Egyptian ceramic sculpture

dating from the second century B.C. e. Photograph
courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler Museum, Harvard
University Art Museums, bequest of Grenville L.
Winthrop

moved his capitol to Akhetaton, and declared the only true deity to be Aten,
the sun, his workers still harbored figures of Bes, which have been found at Tell
el-Amarna. The revolution in art that affected Akhenaton s buildings didn't
affect the traditional depiction of Bes. Because he is so very different from the
other gods in the Egyptian pantheon, many archaeologists have had no qualms
about pronouncing him an alien god, imported from elsewhere. They aren't
exactly clear on where this elsewhere was. Some have postulated that he came
from sub-Saharan Africa, others put his origins in the East. But I c a n t help won-
dering if the odd appearance o f Bes might be due not to his being an alien from
elsewhere, but simply to being an older deity.
Since we don't have any myths associated with Bes, we don't know if there
was ever a decapitation story to explain the Bes heads. Presumably these heads
were used, like Gorgon heads, for an apotropaic function, intended to scare
away evil influences. The depiction of Bes on headrests and doorways suggests
such a guardian function. By Roman times he was shown wearing armor and
brandishing swords, like a pumped-up version of his older self, defending with
a vengeance. He is sometimes shown strangling snakes, or even drinking beer.
Very late in his history, a female counterpart, Beset, materialized, displaying a
similar appearance and functions.
 64 The Mystery

Mesopotamia

One of the oldest works of literature extant is the Epic of Gilgamesh. The first
copies were found in the city of Nineveh, inscribed on clay tablets in the library
of Ashurbanipal that date from the seventh century B.C.E. Other versions have
since come to light, and it is now believed that the epic originated in Sumerian
times and was composed about 2000 B.C.E.
Gilgamesh was king of the city of Uruk, He was % god and ¥3 man, a bio-
logically unlikely proportion that the text leaves unexplained. With his com-
panion, the wild man Enkidu, Gilgamesh sets out for the Cedar Forest, which
is guarded by the ogre Humbaba (called Huwawa in older texts). According to
the epic, Humbaba s "roar is like a flood-storm. His mouth is fire and his breath
is death." Nevertheless, Gilgamesh fears nothing, and he and his companion
enter the cedar forest. Gilgamesh begins chopping down the cedars with his
axe, and the noise draws the giant Humbaba, who demands to know who is
chopping down his trees. Gilgamesh and Humbaba fight, but now Gilgamesh
begins to know fear.
According to a Hittite version of the story, Sham ash, the sun god, urges
Gilgamesh on, telling him not to be afraid. He sends winds to beat against the
monster, notably against his eyes. Gilgamesh is able to defeat Humbaba and
cuts off his head with his axe.
What did Humbaba look like? Some images from the seventh century B.C.E.,
labeled as the head of Humbaba, resemble earlier images dating as far back as
about 2750 B.C.E. The vast majority of these depictions show the head alone,
without even a neck, and were known as "Humbaba heads." A typical such
head shows a full-face view of a staring face with deep lines on both cheeks (of-
ten making a pair of fiddle-scroll S-shapes), the teeth gritted and exposed.
Humbaba is never given a protruding tongue. Archaeologist Eduard Meyer
noted in 1914 that the only three figures in ancient art to be regularly portrayed
full-face were the Gorgon, Bes, and Humbaba.
One of the seventh-century heads mentioned above is a very interesting
one. It depicts the face of Humbaba drawn with a single, continuous line. This
rather thick line zigzags around, making the deeply grooved cheeks and defin-
ing a series of teeth before looping back and forth as a beard. We learn the rea-
son for this curious method of execution if we turn the object over, because
on the back is noted, "If the entrails are like the face of Humbaba, a rebel will
rule the land." The clay piece thus provided a sort of instructional model for
divination by sheep entrails. Similar objects exist on which the entrails were
drawn to resemble a crescent, a scimitar, breasts, a bull, a womb, and other
items. Inclusion of the head drawing suggests, as Sidney Smith noted in 1923,
that the face of Humbaba was very well known by this period in history. (Other
versions of the entrail-face of Humbaba note that when the entrails look like
Humbaba, it is a sign of Sargon of Agade, who ruled the land. Clearly some-
one didn't like Sargon—who, by the way, ruled in about 2800 B.C.E., which
might indicate that the image of Humbaba dates back that far,)
Many writers, citing this piece of art, claim that the face of Humbaba was
 ParallelsfromAround the World 65

4.5 (left) Head of Humbaba. Terra-cotta figure from Sumer, twentieth to sixteenth century B.C.E.,
now in the Louvre, Paris. Humbaba was the demon who guarded the Cedar Forest and was decapi-
tated by Gilgdmwh. Like the Gorgon and Bes, he was always depicted staring out of the picture or
sculpture at the viewer; rather than in the normal profile. He had gritted teeth and oversized eyes,
but no protruding tongue. Photograph courtesy of Erich Lessing/Art Resource, N.Y.

4.6 (right) Head of Humbaba. Terra-cotta figure from Sumer, twentieth to sixteenth century B.C.E.

Original in Iraq Museum, Baghdad. Photograph courtesy of Erich Lessing/Art Resource, N.Y.

inspired by the form of entrails. I agree with archaeologist Stephen Herbert

Langdon, who noted, "The connection with entrails having been introduced
into omen literature led to an overemphasis of this aspect." N o one, certainly,
suggests that crescents or scimitars owe their shape to sheep entrails. It also
seems odd to me that no one has pointed out that the complex, winding form
of Humbaba's face is a very unlikely pattern for intestines to fall into by chance.
Parallels with the Gorgon are clear enough. Even without the projecting
tongue, Humbaba's face-forward position, lined face, staring eyes, and use as a
stand alone face as a protection against evil forces make the similarity so strong
that in 1934 Clark Hopkins of Yale University wrote a lengthy article claiming
that Humbaba clearly was the source for the story and images o f Perseus and
Medusa. Hopkins added, "Probably the protruding tongue was the first contri-
bution of the Greek genius." Theodor Gaster of Columbia University observed
that Humbaba had Gorgonlike powers, and that it was only when Shamash
blinded him with winds that Gilgamesh was able to vanquish the demon.
The Babylonian demon Pazuzu (who won recent fame as the possessor spirit
in William Peter Blatty 's novel The Exorcist, a role the demon never played in the
ancient world) was also often portrayed as a head only, as a sort of apotropaic
figure. And Pazuzu was shown with a protruding tongue.
 66 The Mystery

India

Beyond the Indus River, the Gorgon parallels become much more flamboyant.
The subcontinent of India boasts several such parallels, the most common of
which is Kirtimukkha. The name means "face of glory," and to a Westerner the
title is a peculiar one. Perhaps, like the name Eumenides ("the kindly ones")
given to the dark and frightening Furies, it is meant as an appeasement to the
spirit the mask is supposed to represent.
Kirtimukkha is a Gorgon face exaggerated with a vengeance. The eyes pop
out from the face in high relief. The teeth and tusks are densely packed, sharp,
and extravagantly long. The tongue is generous and curls somewhat. Sur-
rounding the face is intricate detail work. If the Greek Gorgon is a stiffly for-
mal mask, the Indian Kirtimukkha feels like the face of a living, though bizarre,
creature.
T h e Kirtimukkha face appears at the tops of arches over doorways and win-
dows. It adorns the backs of carved statues and nests in the headdress of the
Hindu deity Shiva. It adorns the corners of towers and the walls of temples. In
eastern India it is called Grasamukha ("the devouring face"), while in western
India it is known as Rahurmukha ("the face of Rahu"). Sometimes it is called
Simhamukkha ("face of the lion"). W h e n associated with the fish-monsters
known as Makaras, it is Kala-Makara ("the Makara of time").
W h a t does it mean, this threatening face? What is it supposed to represent?
There are actually several myths associated with it, all mutually contradictory.

4.7 Rahu, the eclipse demon of India. Detail of a painting by the Indonesian artist J. M. Sidigria.
According to one set of mythsf Rahu drank the Amrita, the liquor of immortality. His head was
struck off, but because it had drunk of the amrita, it could not die. Ever since, it circles the sky, try
in£ to drink from the cup of Amrita, which is the moon. When it catches up with the moon, there is
a lunar eclipse. But the eclipse soon ends, because the moon pa^es out through the neck. The head
of Rahu became the kirtimukkha. In other legends Rahu wo^ the catalyst by which kirtimukkha
was formed. Photograph © Donald E Trombino, F.R.A.S., Davis Memorial Solar Observatory.
 ParallelsfromAround the World 67

Some explain how the head came to be separated from the body, as the myth
of the Gorgon and the myth of Humbaba do, but in other ways these Indian
myths do not resemble the myths of Greece or Babylon at all. Probably the old-
est is the myth of Rahu. Like Grasa, Rahu means "devourer," and both names
are identified with the great devourer, Time. This story is told in the Mahabha-
rata and in the Brhatsamhita.
Long ago, the gods arranged with their enemies, the demons, for their help
in churning the oceans. T h e churning of the waters would produce the nectar
of the gods, amrita, which would make whomever drank it immortal. This was
to be divided between the gods and the demons. After the churning, however,
the demons carried off the amrita themselves. They quarreled among them-
selves, each wanting more than the others. Finally, they entrusted it to the god
Vishnu for division, but Vishnu took the cup of amrita and gave it all to the
gods. The demon Rahu assumed the shape of a god in order to get a drink, and
he succeeded. Vishnu recognized him, however, and struck off Rahu's head be-
fore the amrita could pass through his throat. Having drunk the nectar of im-
mortality, however, the head of Rahu could not die. Ever since, it has flown
through the sky, trying to drink again from the cup of immortality This cup is
the moon. Every now and then Rahu catches up to the cup and devours it. It
is then that we have an eclipse of the moon. But there is nothing beyond Rahu's
neck, so the moon soon passes through and reappears in the night sky The
head of Rahu then chases after it again, causing an endless cycle o f eclipses.
In another story the head that becomes Kirtimukkha is not that of Rahu, al-
though the demon Rahu is the catalyst for the birth of that symbol. This myth
is recounted in the Padmapurana and the Skandapurana. (The Skandapurana
dates from the seventh century C.E. These are late sources, so the myth itself
may be of late creation.)
In this story, the demon king Jalandhara wished to humiliate the god Shiva
and sent Rahu to demand that Shiva send Jalandhara his bride, Parvati. Shiva's
answer was to emit a burst of energy from his ajna chakra ("lotus of com-
mand"), that power spot between his eyebrows that is so often marked with a
daub of color or a third eye. The energy manifested itself as a lion-headed mon-
ster with a lolling tongue, "eyes like lightning," hair standing on end, and an
emaciated body, the very spirit of hunger, which immediately threatened to de-
vour Rahu. Rahu threw himself upon the mercy o f Shiva. Shiva extended his
protection, but this left a problem, for the new monster had nothing to devour.
What, it asked the Lord Shiva, should it now eat? Shivas solution—since he
could not annihilate what he had created—was to tell it to eat itself. This the
monster readily did, devouring as much o f itself as it could reach, all the way
to its neck, so that only the face remained.
"You will be known, henceforth, as the Face of Glory," said Shiva, 'And I or-
dain that you shall abide forever at my door. Whoever neglects to worship you
shall never win my grace." This story explains why Kirtimukkha is found at the
entrances to temples of Shiva. Before entering, worshipers always pay their re-
spects first to the Face of Glory by sprinkling it with water. If it is located on
the floor, they are careful not to step on it.
 68 The Mystery

Another legend is more convoluted. Hiryakashipu, the brother of Simhika

(the Lioness, w h o is, in turn, the mother of Rahu), practiced austerities and
won a great benefit by those means. He was told that he would be slain neither
by man nor by animal. Such apparent immortality would make anyone cocky,
especially one of the race of Rahu. Hiryakashipu hated the god Vishnu, and it
must have been galling to him that his own son, Pralahda, was a devout wor-
shiper of Vishnu. During one argument, Pralahda told Hiryakashipu that
Vishnu was omnipresent. Hiryakashipu scornfully asked if Vishnu was present
in the pillar he pointed out. Pralahda replied that yes, Vishnu was even in that
pillar. Hiryakashipu then struck the pillar with his staff to kill the god within.
Vishnu, w h o is truly omnipresent, was in that pillar. He burst forth in the
form of Narasimha ("man-lion"). Pictures represent this avatar of the god as
having a human body, but with claws on hands and feet and a lionlike head with
staring eyes, broad nose, a fanged, toothy grin, and protruding tongue. This
creature—neither man nor beast—immediately tore Hiryakashipu to pieces.
Afterward the avatar became proud of this act, and so Shiva seized and skinned
Narasimha, severing his head to make the Kirtimukkha. This legend is from
the Anubhavasikhamani, which dates from the thirteenth century C.E.
We thus have at least three legends for the origin of the Kirtimukkha.
Although often identified as the face of a lion, the Kirtimukkha is usually not
really very leonine, most of its incarnations being fantastic composite faces.
The Kirtimukkha is present throughout India and beyond; it is found in Tibet
and down through southeast Asia into Java and Cambodia, where it is called
Vanaspati ("lord o f the woods").
Although one would like to report that the Kirtimukkha is a figure of great
antiquity, in fact most examples are of relatively late origin. Some figures do
date back to the seventh century C.K., but the form did not become widespread
until after the tenth century. As I've noted above, most of the legends also date
from that same period.
The Kirtimukkha has been interpreted symbolically in various ways. It has
been said to represent the cosmic fire that periodically cleanses the world, or
to be the emblem of Sun and Death, the pair that generates and destroys ev-
erything in the world. The name Kala-Makara indicates that it may be Time,
the great destroyer. Mythographer Joseph Campbell saw it as a symbol o f the
destructive aspect of life itself.
There is another Indian figure that bears a powerful resemblance to the
Gorgon. Unlike the other parallels mentioned so far, this one is an actively wor-
shiped deity. Followers of Shiva might pay reverence to the Kirtimukkha and
its symbolism, but this other deity is venerated for itself alone. I do not wish
to insult these worshipers, to imply that the object of their worship is derived
from other mythologies, or to belittle its form. But to an outside observer the
parallels with the Gorgon are quite striking.
The deity in question is Kali. "Probably no Hindu deity has been more fre-
quently maligned, by both non-Hindus and Hindus, than Kali," writes David
R. Kinsley in his excellent survey of Kali worship, The Sword and the Flute. "In
large measure this has been the result of her terrifying appearance, which
 Parallels from Around the World 69

strikes many observers as extreme." Although there are many different inter-
pretations of the goddess Kali, the one Kinsley has in mind is Smashan Kali,
the terrible aspect of Kali. Even the Smashan Kali may be depicted in different
ways, including a very human, lovely individual or a grotesque one. This latter
type is the extreme, Gorgonlike figure that many find objectionable.
A description of Smashan Kali is given in the Syama Praharanam, which de-
scribes her as "of terrible face and fearful aspect," with fanglike teeth, di-
sheveled hair, and a grin. She holds severed heads and a bloody scimitar. The
resemblance to the Gorgon is clear. Artistic depictions of Kali make the simi-
larity even more obvious. T h e eyes bulge as much as those of the Kirtimukkha.
The tongue protrudes extravagantly, often ribbonlike. The hair is wild. Some-
times she is shown drinking blood that spurts from one of the disembodied
heads she is holding.
As was the case with the Praxidikae, animals are often sacrificed to Kali
through decapitation. It is claimed that human heads were offered to her as re-
cently as the nineteenth century. Today, the offerings are more likely to be goats
and (because of their resemblance to a head?) coconuts.
W h a t is the source of this image and its meaning? There are many w h o
claim that Kali is very ancient, that she derives from the great Mother Goddess
w h o held sway in the ancient world before being overthrown by patriarchists,
w h o supplanted her with male deities like Zeus and Poseidon.
A study of existing literature paints a very different picture. Kinsley notes
that Kali seems not to have been known to the earliest Indus Valley civiliza-
tions, and that she first appeared between 200 B.C.B. and 300 C.E. The name Kali
appears in the Mundaka Upanishad before this time, but there it refers to one of
the seven tongues of the fire god Agni, not to an independent goddess.
In her earliest history as a separate deity, she is a "tribal goddess worshipped
by hunters and thieves." She appears briefly for the first time in the Mahabha-
rata, where it is said that she is black in color, has a bloody mouth and di-
sheveled hair, and leads away the dead with a noose. In this period, up through
about 400 C.E., she doesn't seem to be associated with Shiva or any other deity.
In the Kumarasambhava of Kalidasa of the fifth century O.E., she is still a minor
deity, and in the eighth-century Malatimadhava of Bhavabhuti she is "a terrify
ing, demonic creature worshiped by those on the periphery of society. She is
not identified with the mainstream of Hindu religion, nor does she appear as
a great goddess in her own right."12
Kali begins to appear as a major figure in the Devümähätmya (ca. 4th cen-
tury C.E.), which describes her at length, along with recounting her battles with
demons. Bengal has been the center of her public worship, yet Kinsley finds no
mention of her in Bengal before about 1550 C.E. She becomes prominent in
Bengali literature about the seventeenth century, which is when public worship
o f her is first mentioned.
Kali is Shiva's wife, and in a series of myths from southern India the god
defeats her in a dance contest. In a more famous myth, however, their roles
are reversed and Kali appears as the more powerful one. This myth, found in
the Adbhuta Ramayana, explains the description from the Syama Praharanam
 70 The Mystery

quoted above, The god Rama, having defeated a ten-headed Ravana demon,
returns and brags about his conquest to Kali (who is in the form of Sita). Sita,
unimpressed, asks Rama what he would do if he encountered a Ravana with a
thousand heads. Rama replies that he would slay such a creature, even if it had
a thousand heads. Sita says that a thousand-headed Ravana does exist, but that
it would be better if she were to fight with the demon. Rama, enraged, sets out
to find the thousand-headed Ravana. After locating him, Rama attacks. The
fury of the Ravana drives away all of Rama's allies, and Rama finds himself ter-
rified and alone on the battlefield confronting the monster. Sita, seeing the sit-
uation, assumes the threatening form of Kali and attacks. She kills the demon,
cuts off his heads and hands, and gulps down the blood. In her frenzy, she con-
tinues to attack and to dance around the fallen monster. The gods, alarmed and
not knowing how to stop the berserker goddess, ask Shiva to intervene. He cov-
ers himself in ashes from the cremation ground where she is dancing and
throws himself at her feet, supine like one of the corpses. The battle-in toxi-
cated Kali is about to tramp upon him when Brahma calls out to her, pointing
out that she is stepping on her husband. She suddenly comes to her senses, rec-
ognizes Shiva, and falls quiet. As a sign of her profound embarrassment, she
presses out her tongue. She then resumes her appearance as Sita and returns
meekly home.
This myth has the feeling of a late story, meant to explain the image of
Smashan Kali. It accounts for the frenzied appearance, the garland of skulls and
hands, the blood-drenched mouth, and the corpselike appearance of Shiva at
her feet. It even gives an explanation for the protruding tongue. Its emphasis
upon the superiority of Kali is at odds with earlier literature. Nevertheless, this
is the most popular form of the myth at the Kali shrines in Dakshineswar and
Calcutta, both of which are located in Bengal. (The very name of Calcutta is a
worn-down form of Kaligata.)
At Dakshineswar there is a black basalt statue of Kali, who is depicted as the
Syama Praharanam describes her, four-armed and bearing that Perseic curved
sword that looks very much like a harpe. Her eyes are painted white and out-
lined in red, her lips are full and red, framing a mouth full of very white teeth
and a very prominent red-painted tongue. Beneath her right foot is a diminu-
tive figure of the reclining Shiva. The statue is normally garlanded with
flowers, making the details difficult to see. Iron bracelets, coins, and sticks of
incense thrown by worshipers also cover the base of the statue. The smells of
burning incense and ghee (clarified water buffalo butter) fill the air. Hanging on
the wall are pictures of deities, sainted devotees of Kali, and the swords used
in beheading sacrificial animals.
All of Kali's features have been the subject of intense scrutiny and inter-
pretation by her worshipers, and there are many explanations for them. Ram-
prasad (1718-75) saw the battle-maddened goddess as mistress of the madness
of all the world, to be approached as a child approaches his or her mother, in
awe and wonder. Ramakrishna (1836-86) remarked upon her odd and wild ap-
pearance but urged the same childlike acceptance of the mad destroyer and
creator as Ramprasad did.
 ParallelsfromAround the World 71

Some see in Kali the manifestation of Shiva's power — black as the form-
less void, her hair symbolizing boundless freedom. Her tongue is a sign of shy-
ness at having profaned her husband's body. Or it is the physical manifestation
of the sound that creates the world. Or it is the redness of activity contained
by the whiteness (the teeth) o f spirituality.
Kali s bad reputation may partly be due to her veneration by the cult of
Thuggee. In one variation of her mythology, Kali fought a demon and, typi-
cally, killed him by decapitation. But from the blood that fell to the ground
sprang other demons (just as the falling blood of the Gorgon begot snakes and
venomous reptiles). Kali was threatened with an exponentially increasing tribe
of enemies, as Hercules was with the multiplying heads of the hydra. Like that
hero, she found an original solution: She tore the hem from her garment and
used this to strangle her victims, thus shedding no blood. As each died, she
drained its blood by drinking it, piercing its neck with her curved fangs like a
vampire. Eventually, tiring o f the task, she created from the sweat on her arms
two human helpers, w h o took over the task of strangling the demons. These
were the first Thuggee.
T h e Thuggee, or Phansigars, claimed that she enjoined her followers to con-
tinue to live by selecting and strangling victims with a handkerchief called the
rumal, which was ordinarily w o r n about the waist. They also carried a sacred
pickax, supposed to be the image of her fangs. The religion was hereditary—
one was born a T h u g and entered by birth into a tradition o f ritual murder.
T h e Thuggee operated in secret, looking like ordinary individuals until they
struck. Before venturing out, they would sacrifice a sheep to Kali, cutting off
the head and placing it, with a burning lamp, before her image. They fell in
with solitary travelers, strangling them when they were out of sight from vil-
lages. By stealth and bribery they escaped prosecution.
According to the cult's mythology, the goddess originally disposed of the
bodies of victims herself by devouring them after the Thuggee left. One
novice, however, imitating Lot's wife, looked back instead of going straight
away. The angered goddess declared that henceforth she would no longer eat
the corpses. After that time the Thuggee cut up and buried the bodies.
The combined forces of modernization and British pursuit destroyed the
cult in the nineteenth century. Railroads and modern conveyances carried trav-
elers about in larger numbers and greater safety. More important, modern
communications helped to circulate information that made it easier to track
Thuggee bands. Indian authorities punished captured cult members by cutting
off the hands and nose or by walling them up alive inside columns (shades of
Narasimha!).
But it was the fanatical efforts of William Sleeman, a British officer serving
in Bengal, that did the most to eradicate the Thuggee. From 1818 to the 1830s,
Sleeman energetically pursued and suppressed the cult. A friend of his, Mrs.
Fanny Parks, visited and described a Thuggee temple. She was disappointed,
saying that the statue of Kali looked more like a child's doll than a redoubtable
goddess. Nevertheless, the picture she published clearly showed the Gorgon-
like, staring eyes.
 72 The Mystery

In 1984 Americans were introduced to the Thuggee cult through the motion
picture Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, which depicted the Thuggee as a
much more organized and flamboyant movement than it in fact was The rude
depiction of the goddess was perhaps the truest thing in the film, The movie
prompted American schoolchildren to ask friends of Indian descent why they
practiced such a strange religion. It is worth reiterating that the cult of
Thuggee has nothing to do with popular Hinduism, or with the worship of Kali
as practiced today in Calcutta and Dakshineswar. To most Hindus, Kali is the
personification of the powerful forces in the universe. Many declare that we
live in Kali Yuga. the last and most terrible of the ages of the world, although
others see in this belief a cynical view of the world.
In Indian gaming, the toss of the dice that comes up with a single mark on
each die—what we in America call "snake eyes"—is called "Kali." It is a losing
toss, which may explain the name, But I note that the toss resembles a pair of
staring eyes (as the American name suggests), and that Kali's staring eyes, like
those of the Gorgon, are her most striking feature.

Indonesia

Hinduism is practiced by some of the inhabitants of the peninsulas and island

of southeast Asia, and the Kirtimukkha and Kali are known there. But their
presence has not prevented a unique local figure from developing as a Gorgon
parallel. In Bali there is a figure known as Rangda. Her name means "widow,"

•
MÈÈË

.1 8 Mij.vV K.-JH^iti, /»if (lWf U'ifûnv ^^if<'^s (ndünc.'iui. ihr miL\k u used m fiïii-fiLwnaf r W t ^ u j
datu f x hi ?£vrm v a : ^ fjdfc.mk Oka «.'lrft> Jwn j'ivm.itrJ a saitliT version to be used for the tourist
\t\Au<ii\. J'hcîoiriipk by Phillip MiKeav. Fic-m M-.nhrr Worship- T h r n u ' s .ind Va m h on s.
Lv';ti\î by i,nnes j. Fi ist on < • h ' r he (huv^\iy oj Nvilh CduUir-J Pro.v ïtoil bypci nassen W
the publisher.
 Parallels from Around the World 73

and she is seen as a sort of witch, a child-stealer like the Lamia of Greek
mythology or Lilith of Jewish legend (and Lilitu of Babylon).
Rangda is an obvious Gorgon parallel because of her appearance, which is
very much like that of Kali and the Kirtimukkha. She has the requisite staring
popeyes, broad nose, wide grin with fangs, disheveled hair, and excessively
long, protruding tongue. As a widow, she is associated with the death of her
husband, and with death in general. One Balinese myth associates her with the
historical king Erlangga. According to this story, Rangda was the mother of
Erlangga. She was exiled to the forest by her husband, who suspected her of
being a witch. After her husband's death, she sought to overthrow the king-
dom of Erlangga by the use of black magic.
Rangda appears in a traditional dance with the dragon Barong (whose name
is short for Barong Keket—'lord of the forest"). The story that links them is
called the "Tjalon Arang." According to this, Rangda was a woman from east-
ern Java who was angered by the refusal of one of the royal sons to court her
daughter. From the goddess Durga (often identified with Kali) she received per-
mission to lay waste to the countryside. Her followers, the Sisias, used magic
learned from Rangda to bring disease to the land; they also ate corpses and re^
leased the layaks, minor demons, upon the populace.
Barong appears onstage with his followers, who are stripped to the waist
and carry the Balinese daggers called kris. They attempt to stab Rangda, but
she glares at them. Instead of turning to stone like the victims of the Gorgon,
they fall into trances and stab themselves. Priests move in and sprinkle the men
with holy water and fumigate them with incense, releasing them from the
spell.
The performance of this drama is much more complex than this brief out-
line indicates, being interspersed with dancing, orchestral interludes, and comic
pieces. Since the 1930s the dances have been performed for tourists, using un-
consecrated masks and props.
In Sumatra, Gorgonlike heads are carved on posts called singa, which are
placed outside to protect houses and villages. The word is Indian for "lion/J and
the figure is thought to have been borrowed from India.

China

There are many examples of Gorgon parallels from China. Bronze ceremonial
axes dating from the Shangperiod (eleventh to twelfth centuries B.C.E.) bear in-
cised faces with broad noses, huge, staring eyes, and the characteristic wide-
mouthed grin of the Gorgon, The spread-out ears and carefully detailed hair
recall the Gorgon as well. These axes appear to have been used for sacrificing
human victims at the burial of important persons. They were found at the
Hsin-ts un site near Hsun hsien in Honan province.
Near K'ai-feng, also in Honan province, were found bronze masks from the
western Chou period (ninth century B.C.E.). These masks, like the Hsin-ts'un
axes, are very Gorgonlike, having huge eyes (with the pupils punched out),
4-9 (top) Bronze ritual Chinese food container (Fang Ting) bearing the traditional T'ao t'ieh
mask. The eyes and nose are clearly vistMe in two places in this photograph, Later tradition called
this face "The Glutton, " and claimed it was a warning against overeating. Western Chou period,
tenth-eleventh century B.C.E. Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sacfefer Museum, Harvard Art Museums,
bequest of Grenville L. Winthrop.

4.10 (bottom) Bronze ritual food container (Fang Ting) bearing the T'ao t'ieh. Early Western
Chou, tenth-eleventh century B.C.E. Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler Museum, Harvard
University Art Museums, bequest of Grenville L. Winthrop.
 ParallelsfromAround the World 75

4.11 Bronze ritual food container (Fang Ting),

early Western Chou, twelfth-eleventh century B,C.E.
Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler Museum,
Harvard University Art Mus earns, anonymous gift

broad noses, forehead markings, gritted-teeth grins, and fangs. The masks look
as if they could be worn by people, but the discovery in i955~57 of other masks
placed in a burial site at Chang-chia-po in Shensi province showed that such
items were originally attached to the heads of horses (all the masks were found
where chariots had been buried along with the dead). Speculation is that the
masks were attached between the ears of horses as a means of frightening the
enemy.
During the C h o u period (1122-256 B.C.E.), wooden carvings depicted bug-
eyed creatures with gritted teeth, fangs, and extravagantly long and textured
tongues. These figures seem to have been used as tomb guardians. Additional
parallels will be discussed in Chapters 8 and 9. The most important Gorgon
parallel from China, however, is the T'ao-T'ieh, sometimes called the Glutton.
This is a highly stylized face that appears in many places, most notably near the
tops of serving vessels. It has two large, staring eyes, a prominent nose, fangs,
and a great deal of ornamentation. The lower jaw is almost invariably missing.
Interpreters see in the mask a tiger, lion, or dragon figure. It was incised on pot-
tery vessels or, more commonly, attached to bronze vessels. The third-century
C.E. writer Kuo P'o claims they were meant to represent the evil spirits of the
hills and wastelands that Emperor Yu the Great had emblazoned on his Nine
Cauldrons, as related in the Tso Chuan. Also in the third century B.C.E., LU PU-
wei wrote in the Lu sJiih ch un ch'iu that "on C h o u vessels there was put a T'ao-
T'ieh with a head, but no body He is eating a man and thinks he is going to
swallow him, but already his body is destroyed. The object of the design was
to warn people that the hour of disaster was at hand." Some saw this as a warn-
ing against the acquisitive state, but the more usual interpretation is that the
T'ao-T'ieh is meant as a warning against overeating by the diner w h o has to
look at the face during dinner. Modern archaeologists have unanimously
branded both interpretations as later inventions and claim that the original
meaning has been lost.
 76 The Mystery

Use of the T'ao-T'ieh was widespread and, with variations, has continued
into modern times. Its similarity to the Gorgon and other forms has been much
remarked upon, prompting sinologist William Willetts to protest, "The idea of
a connexion between the T'ao T'ieh and similar forms in the art of Mycenae,
Persia, India, and Amerindia has often been mooted and is of course extremely
attractive, but it should be resisted as far as possible." These words prompted
mythologist Joseph Campbell to retaliate, "In the light, however, not only of
the visual likeness but also of the ancient Chinese commentator's statement
[that the T'ao-T'ieh had no body] it is not easy to follow Professor Willet's un-
explained advice to reject out of hand all thought of any possible connection
between Chinese and other variants of this mythic figure."13 Campbell be-
lieved that the similarities between the parallels I've already noted—and those
I am about to—spoke for a case of cultural diffusion.

Japan

I will note some interesting Gorgon parallels from Japan in Chapter 9. Aside
from these, my chief candidate is an unusual figure now commonly found in
Japanese gift shops—the Daruma doll. These are usually small, ovoid, papier-
mâché figures that stand upright on a flat base. They are colored red with gold
decorations, except for a depressed oval region that is meant to be the face. This
area is flesh-toned, with a bump representing the nose. The lips are suggested
with a red line, and black stripes delineate the moustache, beard, eyelashes, and
brow. Two blank white circles indicate where the eyes should be. The entire
primitive sculpture suggests a hooded, robed monk.
Darumas are employed as wishing dolls. The owner inks in a large, round,
black dot in one of the blank eye spaces and then makes a wish. When the wish
comes true, the owner is supposed to fill in the other eye. This use of the doll
appears to be a relatively late innovation, beginning around the seventeenth
century. It is apparently an outgrowth of the figure's apotropaic function: it
looks for the hoped-for wish, in addition to warding off evil. But the Daruma
doll was not always the apparently lightweight wishing-figure of today. There
exist wonderfully executed examples carved in wood, and the subject was a
popular one for netsukes.
The history of the Daruma doll is well known. It has its origin in an Indian
figure that dates back one and a half millennia. Daruma is short for Bodaida-
ruma, the Japanese form of the name Bodhidarma. Bodhidarma was a Buddhist
monk from Conjeeveram, near Madras; he was said to have been born in 470
C.E. and to have died in 543 C.E. Considered the twenty-eighth patriarch of
Buddhism since its founder, Gautama Siddhartha, Bodhidarma traveled to
Chien K'ang (present-day Nanking) in China in 520 C.E. There he was received
by the pro-Buddhist Emperor Wu-ti of the Liang dynasty. He formally estab-
lished the Buddha-Mind School of Buddhism, called Ch'an in China. With
its emphasis upon meditation and its love for nonrational riddles, this school
must have brought considerable confusion to the emperor. When he asked
 ParallelsfromAround the World 77

Bodhidarma to define the chief principle of Buddhism, the emperor was much
disturbed and dissatisfied to be told it was "vast emptiness."
Bodhidarma went to the Shao-lin temple on Wu-tai Mountain in Honan
province to practice his meditation. His form o f Ch'an Buddhism prospered,
becoming the dominant form of Chinese Buddhism by the end of the Ming
dynasty (seventeenth century C.E.). He himself never visited Japan, but his form
of Buddhism was carried there by his followers, where it became known as Z e n
Buddhism.
Accounts o f Bodhidarma s life are as fantastic as those of the Western saints.
It was said that he meditated for nine years facing a wall, tempted the whole
time by demons as Saint Anthony in the Western tradition was said to have
been assailed by demons. According to some, his legs atrophied as a result. It
was said that he found himself falling asleep over and over again. To prevent
this, he cut off his eyelids and threw them to the ground. W h e n they fell, they
grew into the tea plant, which Z e n followers use to keep awake during long
meditation sessions.
One suspects that some of the details in these stories were meant to explain
the Daruma figure rather than to illuminate the life of the saint. The legend of
the atrophied legs explains why the figure is legless. The cutting off of the eye-
lids explains the round-eyed, Gorgonic stare. If this is the case, then the Da-
ruma figure could significantly predate the life of the historical Bodhidarma. It
is interesting to note that one sometimes sees the human figure of Daruma
within the folds o f his robe replaced by an owl, as if the staring eyes of both
were their most important feature.
T h e Daruma figure is the favorite model for snowmen in Japan, for obvious
reasons. Large papier-mâché Daruma figures are often mounted in Japanese
rice fields to protect the grain. The significance of this will be made clear in
Chapter 9.

The Americas

Protruding tongues were prominent on figures carved on the totem poles of

Indians of the Northwest Coast. They are most commonly found among the
Haida, frequently among the Tlingit, Kwakiutl, and Nootka, and occasionally
the Bella Cool a and Tsimshian. In most cases the face o f the figure is large rel-
ative to the body, with very Gorgonlike gritted teeth, fangs, and oversized eyes.
Some figures consist only o f the head, with no body
The grizzly bear figure is probably the most common such carving. Wolves
and beavers also appear. Other animal figures that display the long tongue are
the sea lion, killer whale, sea grizzly, and sea wolf. The daunting figure of
Tsonoqoa, the cannibal wildwoman of the woods, sometimes also has a pro-
truding tongue. There do not seem to be any myths, however, that explain the
curious appearance of these figures.
The Iroquois in what is today New York state had legends about Great Head,
a creature consisting solely of a giant head with huge eyes and long hair.
 78 The Mystery

But there are many explicit Gorgon parallels from farther south. I have al-
ready noted the face in the center of the Aztec Calendar Stone. To the Aztecs,
this was the Eagle s Bowl, Cuauhxicalli, a twenty-five-ton basalt disc dedicated
in the year 1479 C.E. in present-day Mexico City. It was executed during the reign
of the sixth Aztec monarch, Axayacatl, and was found buried in the city's main
square on December 17, 1760.
The figure in the center is the face of the sun, usually taken to be the Sun
as the Lord of Heaven, Tonatiuh. He is outfitted in the accoutrements of a de-
ity—a crown on his head, a rod through the septum of his nose, earplugs
through his lobes, and a necklace below. The protruding tongue takes the form
of an obsidian knife. Similar knives are shown elsewhere on the stone. One ap-
pears immediately above the face, just to the right of the V-shaped object at
twelve o'clock, where it represents the date. Another appears in the rectangu-
lar "window" at about two o'clock and stands for the eighteenth day of the
month, Tecpatl. It is appropriate that the sun god have a knife for a tongue,
since he was held to be nourished by the blood o f victims sacrificed with such
a knife.
It is puzzling that there are no other figures of Tonatiuh resembling the one
on the Calendar Stone. In fact, Tonatiuh is nowhere else depicted en face, as he
is on the stone. For this and other reasons, some think that the face in the
stone's center may be some other manifestation of the sun. Cecelia F. Klein
holds that the face is Xochipilli-Piltzintecuhtli—the sun as he appears at night,
traveling through the underworld from the point of his setting to the place
where he rises again. Like Tonatiuh, Xochipilli-Piltzintecuhtli has a blond w i g
(representing solar rays) and a jewel-tipped nose plug. This deity is also gener-
ally depicted in profile, rather than full-face, but he is associated for obvious
reasons with earth monsters, w h o are depicted en face.

4.12 Coatlicue, the Aztec Earth

goddess. This representation of
Coatlicue was often incised on the
bottom of monuments so that it
won M always be in contact with
the earth. This probably saved
many of them from destruction in
the colonial period. The large eyes,
toothy grin, and protruding tongue
are similar both to the face of the
Sun in the Aztec Calendar Stone
and to archaic Gorgons.
Photograph reproduced from
Cecelia F. Klein's T h e Faces of the
Earth (2976J by permission of
Garland Publications.
 Parallels from Around the World 79

The earth goddess Coatlicue is normally depicted in one of two ways. One
is as a standing figure whose head consists of two reptile heads in profile, form-
ing a single monstrous face. The other image is very similar to the face at the
center of the Calendar Stone. In this representation, Coatlicue is shown as a
head, face forward, with staring eyes, a very toothy grin, broad nose, decorated
cheeks, earplugs, characteristic hairdo, and protruding tongue. This view of
the goddess are much more c o m m o n (if less well known today) than the enface
sun god. The images I've described were often carved on the underside of a
monument, so that when the stone was set in position the carving would be
pressed against the earth whose deity it exalted. The carving was thus invisible
except when it was being created. It may be this circumstance that preserved
many of the images of Coatlicue.
Other Aztec deities are rendered with similar faces. Xolotl, the evening star
(Venus) is depicted in a manner very like to Tlaltecuhtli and the Calendar Stone
face, with a staring, grinning, protruding-tongued visage much like a Gorgon.
In the codices, the stellar demon Yoalactecotli is drawn with a skull-like head,
ringed eyes, a protruding tongue, and a body like a skeleton. That is also a good

•J

4.13 Xolotl the Evening Star. Stone relief from Tepetzintu. Huastec. Reprinted from Cecelia F.
Kleins The Faces of the Earth (1976) by permission of Garland Publications.

4.14 Mictecacihuatl, the Aztec Death Goddess, from the Codex Magliabecchiano. Post-conquest
Aztec. Photograph reproducedfromCecelia F. Klein's The Faces of the Earth (1976) by permission
of Garland Publications.
 80 The Mystery

description of Mictlantecuhtli (Mictlan was the Aztec land of the dead). As

Klein notes, the full-face portrayal is associated with gods of the night sky and
of death.
Before the Aztec ruled in the region of present-day Mexico City, central
Mexico played host to other cultures. T h e Teotihuacan culture lasted from
about loo B.C.E. to 700 C.E* A m o n g the gods of this people was the rain god
Tlaloc, w h o appeared full-face on stelae (upright, carved standing stones), mer-
lons (the crenellations atop buildings), and urns. The face of Tlaloc featured
round, staring eyes (sometimes represented by round holes), a wide-open
mouth full of teeth, sometimes greatly exaggerated in length but usually with
fangs, and a protruding tongue. At the same time, to the southeast in the Valley
of Oaxaca, the rain god was Cocijo, w h o was portrayed in a similar fashion. It
is interesting to note the correspondence of urn figures with Greek pottery
figures and of the Tlaloc merlons with Gorgon antefixes.
In the present-day state of Guerrero in western Mexico, stone slabs have
been found carved with daunting faces—huge circular eyes, gritted-teeth
mouths, and wild hair. Farther south, the Maya of Yucatan flourished from
about 300-1200 C.E. Their jaguar god looked very much like the Aztec sunstone
figure. The face-forward carvings feature oversized eyes, the gritted-teeth grin,
and protruding tongue.
Mayan war gear displays Gorgon emblems amazingly like the ancient Greek
figures. Mayan shields were much smaller than their Greek counterparts, but
many of them bore broad-nosed, staring, grinning faces on them. A striking
example of late classic Maya statuary fromjaina Island shows a warrior carry-
ing a shield whose center is filled with a perfect Gorgon face. It features the

4.15 Mayan repoussé disk from the Cenote of Sacrifice at Chichcn Itza. Once again, note the aegis-
like breastplate. Reprinted from T h e Ancient Maya, fifth edition, by Robert J. Sharer, with the
permission of the publisher, Stanford University Press £> 1946, 1947, J 956, 19&4,1994 by the
Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University.
 Parallels from Around the World 81

large staring eyes, broad nose, protruding tongue, gritted teeth, and fangs. It is
an even better match for the faces on shields portrayed on Greek vases than the
Sepik river shields described below. In addition, Mayan kings are often pictured
wearing breastplates that have small faces on the center, in the same place oc-
cupied by the Gorgoneion on the aegis of Athena. The Mayans sometimes go
Athena two better by placing faces on the sleeves as well.
The metalwork of the Chavin from the Peruvian highlands of about 800
B.C.E. features very Gorgon-like faces. The essential Gorgon features are all
there—large staring eyes, broad nose, grinning teeth with pronounced fangs.
The scholar Miguel Covarrubias has attempted to delineate relationships and
family trees for these diverse figures. He sees evidence of Chavin influence on

4.16 Mayan figure from Stela 7, Machaquila. The breastplate again bears an aegis-like face.
Reprinted from Eric S. Thompson's Maya History and Religion (1970), University of Oklahoma
Press.
 82 The Mystery

4.17 Mayan carved lintel from Yaxchilan temple 33, dating from y$6 c.e. It depicts the accession of
king Bird Jaguar. Note the aegis-like breastplate with its faces. Reprinted from The Ancient Maya,
fifth edition by Robert J. Sharer with the permission of the publisher, Stanford University Press
© 1946,194J, 1936,1984,1994 by the Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University;

the carved stones of Guerrero. He believes that the figures carved by the
Olmecs, one of the oldest of the Central American cultures (the Olmecs
flourished along the southern coast of the Gulf of Mexico from about 1400 to
100 B.C.E.) influenced the Gorgonlike Cocijo of Teotihuacan, the Tlaloc figure
of central Mexico, and the jaguar god of the Maya. Yet no existing Olmec figure
provides a convincing Gorgon parallel. The ones we know do not have the
characteristic teeth, fangs, huge eyes, or protruding tongues. In fact, Olmec
figures are good examples of en face figures that are not Gorgoneia. That these
odd, scowling, closed-eye figures could give rise to descendants that have all
the familiar Gorgonic features the originals lack doesn't seem likely.

Pacific Cultures

Gorgonlike faces with staring eyes and protruding tongues are present in sev-
eral places in the South Pacific, most commonly among the Maori of New
Zealand, where they appear on the ridgepoles of meetinghouses amidst much
architectural filigree. They are placed at the apex of storage buildings, just like
akroteria in Greece. They are carved on decorative panels and on supporting
poles. The eyes of these staring figures are often emphasized with inlays of iri-
descent paua (haliotis) shell. In New Zealand it is said that the eyes are those of
 ParallelsfromAround the World 83

Koururu, the owl (recall the Daruma and, arguably, the owl of Athena), T h e
god Rongo, it is said, sacrificed the owl and placed him under the rear wall of
his house. Protruding tongues adorn the "godsticks" of Rongo and of Kahu-
kura, the war god.
T h e form and use of the N e w Zealand figures so closely duplicates those of
the Indians of the Pacific Northwest that many anthropologists and art histo-
rians have become convinced that there must have been some sort of com-
munication between the two groups. The mildest form of this belief holds that
both derived their inspiration from China, with the archetype originating in
Chou-era China and spreading in two directions, to achieve similar results at
two diametrically opposed points on the Pacific Rim. O n e must note, however,
the lack of similar figures and uses at any points between the Pacific Northwest
and N e w Zealand. The Gorgon parallels in China j a p a n , and Mesoamerica are
all quite different and appear in different contexts. 14
In N e w Guinea the Gorgon motif adorns the art of the Sepik River region.
It is painted on the gables o f m e n s ceremonial houses, carved on house posts,
placed on the fronts of war canoes, and applied to decorated stools and hooks.
As in Greece, it is used on masks and on the fronts of shields. Some shields from
New Guinea look very much like those pictured on Greek vases, with both
painted and carved Gorgonic faces.
In N e w Ireland the Gorgonic face appears on masks as well. As Sarah Gill
has noted: "The particular iconography o f the masks was a clan secret known
only to clan members. . . . Thus, the exact meaning of the protruding tongue
on certain N e w Ireland masks can only be surmised. It is possible that the
masks were meant to represent ancestors: in one mortuary rite, the dancers
are said to represent ancestors w h o come back briefly from the dead to visit
their living relatives."
In New Caledonia, long-tongued faces adorn the exteriors of buildings. As
in New Zealand, they appear on gables, ridge poles, and pillars.
The long-tongued/staring-eye face surfaces in Borneo among the Ot
Danum and Ngadju tribes o f the south Kalimantan. There it is often associated
with death—it appears on mortuary houses, ancestor posts, and masks w o r n
during mortuary rites. T h e Ot Danum figures may have fangs, and they are said
to represent a dead person. The face may be painted on the side of the mor-
tuary house, and the huge eyes are the most striking part. In Sarawak, the face
appears on masks and figures representing evil creatures; it is intended to drive
away sickness.

Later Europe

Long after the fall of Rome, heads oddly reminiscent of the Gorgon made their
appearance in the cathedrals of Europe. I will discuss gargoyles at much
greater length in Chapter 9, but here I wish to draw attention to their kin, the
Grotesques—faces carved on the walls, in arches, at the capitals of columns
that have no obvious connection with drainage systems. Gargoyles, for all their
visual flamboyance, are functional constructions, but Grotesques seem to be
 84 The Mystery

a r c h i t e c t u r a l e x t r a v a g a n c e s , w i t h o u t a n y a p p a r e n t p u r p o s e . T h e r e are a g r e a t
m a n y d i f f e r e n t v a r i e t i e s o f t h e s e , o n e class o f w h i c h c o n s i s t s o f h e a d s ( u s u a l l y
without bodies) characterized by s t a r i n g eyes, b r o a d noses, protruding
t o n g u e s , g r i t t e d o r p r o m i n e n t t e e t h , a n d fangs. T h e r e are e x a m p l e s f r o m cathe-
drals in L o w i c k , N o r t h u m b e r l a n d , from C a n t e r b u r y , from A u l t H u c k n a l l in
D e r b y s h i r e , a n d from B a r f r e s t o n in K e n t .

Conclusion

T h e f o r e g o i n g s u r v e y is n o t e x h a u s t i v e b y a n y m e a n s . I h a v e p o i n t e d o u t j u s t
s o m e o f the clearest a n d m o s t c o n s p i c u o u s cases o f G o r g o n parallels f r o m
a r o u n d t h e w o r l d . T h e r e are a n u m b e r o f o t h e r cases. M a n y o f t h e s e are less
o b v i o u s , and it is n o t m y p u r p o s e t o t r y t o i n c l u d e all p o s s i b l e m a t c h e s h e r e . 1
w o u l d like t o m a k e a f e w p o i n t s , h o w e v e r

1. Many o f these examples seem to serve parallel purposes. Often the faces are
apotropaic devices, intended to turn away evil with their own horrific ap-
pearance. Their placement seems to argue for this use. In India, southeast
Asia, Polynesia, and China, the faces appear over windows and doorways. In
Greece, China, and Japan, they appear on antefixes (see Chapter 9), and the
Mexican Tlaloc appears on merlons. In ancient Babylon, Egypt, Greece, and
Rome, portable heads were made. In Greece, N e w Guinea, and Yucatan, the
faces appear on shields and breastplates.
2. T h e myths that explain these faces do not appear to bear much resemblance
to one other. In fact, in India there are at least three distinctly different myths
to explain the same figure.
3. T h e appearance of such similar figures has suggested to several scholars that
some sort of cultural diffusion is responsible. Yet even a cursory glance at the
pattern of distribution and the ages of various examples should cause us to
consider this proposition carefully. Bes dates back to about 2000 B.C.E. T h e
G o r g o n first appeared in Greece in the eighth century B.C.E. But the Kirti-
mukkha and Kali—at least in their present f o r m s — s e e m to be o f m u c h later
provenance. In China and Babylon, such faces date back as far as Bes. In
Central America and Peru, there are faces similar to those in Mexico, but sep-
arated from the latter by a considerable gap in time. Were the c o m m o n ap-
pearance of the Gorgon face due to diffusion, one would expect to be able to
trace its spread from one point outward by a succession of appearances that
start later in time as one moves farther from the place of origin. N o such pat-
tern is evident.
4. Lack o f a traceable pattern still leaves us with the question. W h y are there so
many parallels from around the world? This is a legitimate question and, I
think, a key one in solving the mystery of the Gorgon. As w e shall see in the
next chapter, it is one that has impressed itself most deeply on those w h o have
attempted to solve the mystery.
5. T h e parallels listed in this chapter are only the artistic parallels. I have not tried
to look at parallels for the m y t h itself. Hardand devoted the bulk of his three -
volume study to precisely this search for parallels to the elements of the myth.
As I've already pointed out, the myths of artistic parallels described here do
 Parallelsfrom Around the World 85

not match up with the myth of Perseus. The one that comes closest, perhaps,
is the tale of Gilgamesh and Humbaba, and I do not agree with Clark Hopkins
that the parallel is a close one. Close parallels to the Perseus myth do ex-
ist—ones that are much closer than the myth of Humbaba. I will discuss two
of these in Chapter 7.
 5
^e.vrlAn.vcions

The origination of medusas is a puzzle to science.

Their place in the evolutionary scale is a mystery.;
Their task in the great balance of life is a secret. For
they belong to that weird netherworld of unbiological
beings, salient members of which are the chimaerat the
unicorn, the sphinx, the werewolf and the hound of
the hedges and the sea serpent. An unbiological order; I
call it, because it obeys none of the natural laws of
hereditary and environmental change, pays no
attention to the survival of thefittest,positively sneers
at any attempt on the part of man to work out a
rational life cycle, is possibly immortal, unquestionably
immoral, evidences anabolism but not katabolism,
ruts, spawns, and breeds but does not reproduce, lays
no eggs, builds no nests, seeks but does not find,
wanders but does not rest. Nor does it toil or spin. . . .
Mysticism explains them where science does not.
—Charles G. Finney,
The Circus of Doctor Lao, 1935

IN THE Phaedrus, written around 370 B.C.E., Plato sets down a discussion be-
tween his mentor Socrates and the eponymous Phaedrus as they walk by the
Ilissus River near Athens. Phaedrus asks Socrates if they are not near the spot
where Boreas, the North Wind, was supposed to have abducted the maiden
Oreithuia. This story is alluded to in most familiar classical sources—Pausanias
points out the spot, Apollodorus mentions it, and so does Pherekydes, al-
though in this case w e do not have his own word —rather, Apollonius of
Rhodes mentions it in his Argonautica. There was a full account of the tale in a
poem by Simonides, but that, unfortunately, doesn't survive. As a result, about
all we know is that Oreithuia, the daughter of Erechtheus, king of Athens, was
dancing or gathering flowers with her friends. Boreas, the North Wind, fell in
love with her, but his suit was rejected by her father, so he snatched the maiden

87
 88 The Mystery

up from the banks of the river and carried her away; she eventually bore him
two sons. The story was very well known to the Athenians of the fourth cen-
tury but it is virtually forgotten today
W h e n questioned about the location by Phaedrus, Plato responds that the
actual site is a little farther downriver, at Agra, and that an altar to Boreas marks
the spot. What follows is worth quoting:

PHAEDRUS: But tell me, Socrates, before Zeus, do you believe this mythical tale
to be true?

SOCRATES: If I disbelieved it, as the wise do, I wouldn't be so odd. In that case,
being wise, I might say that while she was playing with Pharmaceia a puff of
wind pushed her off the nearby rocks, and that when she came to her end in this
manner she was said to have been carried off by Boreas. Or else it was from the
Areopagus, for the story is also told that she was abducted from there rather than
here. I myself, Phaedrus, believe that such things, while amusing, are the work
of a man who is exceedingly clever and industrious but not at all fortunate for
no other reason than that after this he must account for the form of the Centaurs
and then for that of the Chimaera, and then a crowd of such creatures floods in
upon him, Gorgons and Pegasuses and a great number of other inexplicable and
odd creatures of which strange things are said. If someone who disbelieves in
these things is to bring forth a plausible account of each of them, using a sort of
rustic ingenuity, he'll need a great deal of leisure. I myself have no leisure at all
for such business.1

Socrates indeed had no leisure for speculating about the origins of myths;
he thought it more important to Know Himself, as the Delphic oracle had pro-
claimed. In other sources, he is represented as dismissing myths interpreted in
any way other than as symbols, so it isn't likely that in his discussion with
Phaedrus he is endorsing wholesale belief in the myths—he simply dismisses
the rationalizers w h o spin out theories about such unimportant things with so
little information. To him, the truth or untruth of the myth of Boreas is not
important—certainly not important enough to argue over, so he can brush it
aside easily. The worthy pursuits of philosophy are inquiries into the nature of
man.
Socrates and Plato wouldn't be happy with the authors w h o will be dis-
cussed in this chapter The meaning of the Gorgon and its form are precisely
what these writers want to discuss. And I have to number myself among such
shallow rationalists. In our defense, I suggest that by studying the origin of
powerful myths and symbols such as this, w e are investigating the nature of
man.
Socrates's dismissal of Gorgons and other obviously nonexistent creatures
as unimportant must have struck a nerve of some sort, because his pro-
nouncement was quoted and echoed so often in the classical world that it has
become almost proverbial. Athenaeus, the third-century C.E. author of a fasci-
nating hodgepodge of a novel, The Deipnosophists, quotes Plato directly: "To
quote Plato himself: A crowd of similar Gorgons and Pegasuses and other fab-
ulous creatures, incomprehensible in number and strangeness.' Wherefore I
will lapse into silence." We find similar quotes in the Hermotimus of the satirist
 Explanations 89

Lucian, the Moralia of Plutarch, the Geography of Strabo, and the De Placitis
Hippocratis et Piatonis of the Roman physician Galen. T h e message in each case
is identical: no educated, rational person really believes in Gorgons, Chimeras,
or winged horses. By the fourth century B.C.E., then, people had stopped tak-
ing Medusa seriously
This is a little surprising, really. I t s not as if Gorgons were supposed to be-
long to some exotic breed of beast that wandered in herds across faraway
plains. Rather, it was well known that a Gorgon was one of three monstrous
sisters w h o lived in a mystic realm, daughters o f the Old Man of the Sea. Or
else the Gorgon was the monster of Hell. Plenty of people today believe in a
horned and perhaps goat-footed Devil, though they would never believe that
satyrs roamed through ancient Greece. Just because Gorgons had no recog-
nized place in natural history—weren't creatures that soldiers might encounter
in some far-off war—didn't mean that they couldn't exist. The Gorgon was sup-
posed to be a special being, a supernatural entity And there was widespread
belief in such supernatural beings in classical times.
Nevertheless, members of the educated public of fourth-century Greece
had apparently decided that the Gorgon of The Odyssey and of Apollodorus did-
n't have much credibility, so they started explaining away the myth in more ra-
tional terms. I have already noted h o w Dionysius Skytobrachion s novel por-
traying Medusa as the queen of a tribe of Libyan Amazons was accepted by
Pausanias as the probable basis behind the myth. And from another quarter, an
entirely different "explanation" grew.
The Deinosophists by Athenaeus, mentioned above as quoting Plato on the
Gorgon, is a fascinating book. Incredibly long, it purports to be a record of the
dinner-table conversation between friends w h o gather together and discuss
whatever comes to mind—somewhat like Plato's own Symposium, but with
food as well as drink. In reality, the book is both a novel and an essay combined
in a freewheeling form that lets Athenaeus drag in whatever odd observation
he wants, and the conversation wanders all over the map in the course of sev-
eral volumes. Much of the writing is the sort of stream-of-consciousness that
one really does encounter at dinners: "That reminds me of a story I heard
once." Right after one of the group quotes Plato's by now famous line about
Gorgons and Centaurs, another says that the line reminds him of a book by
Alexander of Myndus, the Inquiry into Birds, that has an interesting passage
about Gorgons. We don't know anything about Alexander of Myndus or his
b o o k — n o b o d y else mentions either of t h e m — b u t Athenaeus is almost cer-
tainly not making them up. Too many of the other things he includes can be
verified elsewhere.
Alexander's contribution is worth quoting in its entirety, because it stands
at the head of a ladder of traditional beliefs about the Gorgon that reaches all
the way down to relatively recent times. We don't know where Alexander got
his information.

The gorgon is the creature which the Numidians of Libya, where it occurs, call
the "downlooker." As the majority aver, drawing their comparison from its skin,
it is like a wild sheep; but some say that it is like a calf. They say, too, that it has
 90 The Mystery

a breath so strong that it destroys any one who meets the animal. And it carries
a mane hanging from its forehead over the eyes; whenever it shakes this aside,
as it does with difficulty because of its weight, and catches sight of anything, it
kills whatever is seen by it; not by its breath, but by the influence which emanates
from the peculiar nature of its eyes; and it turns the object into a corpse. It came
to be known in this wise. Some soldiers in the expedition of Marius against
Jugurtha saw the gorgon, and supposing it was a wild sheep since its head was
bent low and it moved slowly, they rushed forward to get it, thinking they could
kill it with what swords they had. But the creature, being startled, shook the
mane which lay over its eyes and immediately turned to corpses the men who
had rushed upon it. Again and again other persons did the same thing and be-
came corpses; and since all who attacked it at close quarters always died, some
made inquiry of the natives about the nature of the animal; whereupon some
Numidian horsemen, at the command of Marius, lay in ambush for it at a dis-
tance and shot it; they then returned with the animal to the commander.2

This is a remarkable story. If Alexander was making it up, it's an early form
of science fiction that speculates about how you could overcome a creature
that could kill you by simply looking at you. If, as is much more likely, he is not
making it up, it reports a very odd story—a collision between a creature who
may be the basis o f a myth and some soldiers w h o are firmly rooted in history
Gaius Marius was a pivotal figure in Roman history, certainly one of the ten
most important men in the development of Roman civilization. Yet he is as un-
known today as is the once-familiar mythological creature Typhon. All of
which goes to prove that existence by itself doesn't help you become or remain
a familiar figure. Marius's obscurity is probably due to a modern-day concen-
tration on the Empire, rather than on the Roman Republic.
There's plenty of information about Marius available—Sallust gave a de-
tailed account of him in his Jugurthine War and The Conspiracy of Catiline.
Plutarch devoted a chapter of his Lives to Marius. More recently, Colleen
McCulloch made him the center of her novel The First Man in Rome. Gaius
Marius became consul of Rome for the first time in 107 B.C.E. and went off di-
rectly to prosecute the war in northern Africa against the Libyan kingjugurtha.
It was while involved in this war that the soldiers of Marius's army encoun-
tered the Gorgon, according to Alexander. Athenaeus's characters note that the
skins of Gorgons were brought back to Rome and hung in the temple of
Hercules, where they could be seen by Romans at the triumphal feasts.
So what was the creature that Alexander described? Certainly no animal can
kill with just a glance, as Alexander's Gorgon could, though the trait was as-
cribed to some animals in old bestiaries. From the description, some modern
authorities believe Alexander's "Gorgon" to be the gnu, or Barbary sheep. The
rest of the description, according to this theory, is tall tale added on either to
make the story more exotic or as a misremembered bit of trivia. Certainly the
idea of the Gorgon as Barbary sheep dovetails neatly with Professor William
Ridgeway's assertion that the aegis of Athena consisted o f a goatskin (see
Chapter 3).
If the story o f the Libyan animal Gorgon stopped with Alexander it would
be strange enough. But it began to develop in another odd direction, and we
 Explanations 91

are fortunate enough to see exactly how and where it achieved this new kink
to its story.
Gaius Plinius Secundus, usually called Pliny the Elder in order to distinguish
him from his equally noted nephew and adopted son, was a Roman adminis-
trator and prolific author. He was born in 23 C.E. It says a lot about him that he
died in 79 C.E, , during the eruption of Vesuvius that buried the cities of Pompeii
and Herculaneum. He asked to be rowed close to the site, and was overcome
either by the fumes or by a heart attack. Of his writings, only his Natural History
survives. This is a multivolume work filled with information and trivia that
Pliny collected from various sources. In its eighth book, Pliny briefly describes
an animal called the Catoblepas. It lived, he said, in western Ethiopia, by which
he probably meant northwestern Africa. It was of moderate size and not very
active, having a large and heavy head that is always hanging down, looking at
the ground. This is fortunate for people, because anyone who looks in its eyes
immediately dies.
Pliny obviously took his information from Alexander, or from whatever
source Alexander used. Not only is the description of the creature the same,
but the name Catoblepas means "the downward-looker/' Pliny doesn't try to as-
sociate it with the Gorgon (that was perhaps Alexander's own invention, sug-
gested by the killing glance and the headful of hair), although the next entry
in his book is devoted to the Basilisk, a creature that supposedly killed with its
glance. In the third century C.E., the naturalist Claudius Aelianus, usually called
Aelian, disagreed with Pliny about the appearance of the Catoblepas, saying
that it more closely resembled a bull. He held that it killed with its breath rather
than its glance. Its breath, in turn, was deadly because of the poisonous roots
the beast ate. He noted that the Libyan asp could blind with its breath, which
isn't very far from the case for spitting cobras. Poison that has been spit into a
victim's eye, if it enters the bloodstream, can kill, so the stretch of imagination
required isn't really so large.
Pliny's work survived the fall of Rome to become one of the bestsellers of
the Middle Ages. His encyclopedic Natural History was filled with enough use-
ful information and exotic highlights to make it irresistible. It formed the basis
for medieval bestiaries that preserved many of the tales about strange animals
(copyists' errors helped to create others). The process culminated in the 1607
book of naturalist Edward Topsell, whose History of Four-Footed Beasts was
based on the bestiaries and, apparently, on his reading of classical works as well.
Topsell's entry on the Catoblepas Gorgon is a bizarre mishmash, blending
Pliny's description (or perhaps that of Alexander) with Aelian s, and with Apol-
lodorus's description of the Greek Gorgon thrown in for good measure:

It is a beast set all about with scales like a Dragon, having no haire except on his
head, great teeth like Swine, having wings to flie, and hands to handle, in stature
betwixt a Bull and a Calfe. And thus much may serve for a description of this
beast, untill by gods providence, more can be known thereof.3

Topsell's book was illustrated with woodcuts, and his illustrators had to try
to produce a coherent image from this off-the-wall description. They didn't
 92 The Mystery

even try to fit all the features in. Gone are the hands and the wings. The illus-
tration in Topsells book looks like a scaly pig with an unkempt mop-cut of hair.
At this point reality caught up with the Gorgon Catoblepas. It may have been
mentioned in other works after that point, but it was never again treated seri-
ously The voyages o f discovery to new lands failed to turn up anything even
remotely like the Catoblepas, and the cobbled-together creature finally died of
obscurity.
The last word on the Gorgon in the ancient world goes to the anonymous
author of a work entitled Philopatris (The Patriot). This author appropriated the
name of Lucian, the Roman satirist, but he wrote around 960 C.E., long after
the real Lucian's death. Some of his dialogue contains astonishingly cynical
lines:

TRiEPHo: A n d w h a t is the G o r g o n ? For I'd like y o u t o tell m e , since y o u have c o n -

d u c t e d researches into s u c h m a t t e r s a n d w i t h v e r y g r e a t success. For I k n o w
nothing o f her but her name.

CRITIAS: S h e w a s a b e a u t i f u l and lovely m a i d e n . But, e v e r since Perseus, a n o b l e

h e r o f a m e d f o r his m a g i c , cast his spells a r o u n d h e r and t r e a c h e r o u s l y c u t o f f h e r
h e a d , the g o d s have k e p t h e r as their defense.

TRiEPHo: I w a s u n a w a r e o f this g l o r i o u s fact that the g o d s n e e d m e n . B u t w h a t

use did she have d u r i n g h e r lifetime? W a s she a c o u r t e s a n e n t e r t a i n i n g m e n in
public inns o r did she k e e p h e r a m o u r s secret and call herself a virgin?

CRITIAS: B y the u n k n o w n g o d in A t h e n s , she r e m a i n e d a virgin until h e r h e a d

w a s c u t off.

TRiEPHo: A n d if o n e did c u t o f f a virgin's h e a d , w o u l d that prove s o m e t h i n g t o

f r i g h t e n m o s t m e n ? For I k n o w that c o u n t l e s s m a i d e n s have b e e n c u t l i m b f r o m
limb. . . . But all these things are idle talk, fairy tales, m y t h s and w o n d r o u s things
spread b y the poets. S o f o r g e t a b o u t the G o r g o n s also. 4

5.1 Illustration of the Catoblepas or Gorgon from Edward Topsells i6oy hook, T h e History o f
Four-Footed Beasts, based upon his composite description.
 Explanations 93

And, for the most part, people did. The Gorgon was not a popular creature
throughout the Middle Ages. She came back to life during the Renaissance as
an interesting image that had a particular resonance in the popular mind. But
it wasn't until the eighteenth century, when the study of mythology as a sci-
ence began in earnest, that people turned once again to trying to account for
the Gorgon. And thus w e enter the modern era of interpretation.
I am as struck by the modern need to try to explain the Gorgon as I am by
the ancient call to disbelieve in her. With this book, of course, I am as guilty of
curiosity and of attempting ingenious explanations as anyone. My question is
why the Gorgon should attract all o f this interest. There has been far less en-
ergy expended in trying to explain hundred-eyed Argus, or three-headed
Cerberus, or the half-snake Typhon, or Cecrops. Yet all of these beings are as
"photogenic" as Medusa. T h e Gorgon just seems to belong to a certain class of
mythological creatures that are well known to the lay public and intriguingly
odd in appearance. She thus shares with the Cyclops, the Centaur, and the
Minotaur both wide recognition and multiple attempts to explain her.
The idea that the head of the Gorgon represents thunder and lightning was
raised several times in the nineteenth century. It was suggested by Furtwängler
in his article in W Roschers monumental Lexicon of mythology Roscher him-
self championed it in his book Die Gorgonen und Verwantes. J. F. Lauer, F. L. W
Schwartz, and C . Dilthey also supported this interpretation. In fact, though, this
sounds more like a straightforward reading of Homer than an independent con-
clusion. In The Iliad, the aegis of Zeus is associated with the stormcloud. The
Gorgoneion is the centerpiece of the aegis, of course, so it seems logical to con-
clude that the head o f the Gorgon must be the stormcloud.
By itself, this reasoning may seem a little thin, so people have looked for
something to bolster the argument. Quintus Smyrnaeus compared the clash of
the aegis to the b o o m of thunder, but Quintus Smyrnaeus wrote in the fourth
century C.E., SO what he says doesn't necessarily reflect the views of Homer.
Roscher used new etymological discoveries to support his view. He claimed the
word gorgon derives ultimately from the Sanskrit garj, a word for "noise" that he
equated with thunder. In this century Thalia Phyllies Howe (later Thalia Feldman)
noted that, while it was true that gorgon derived from garj, garj did not mean
anything like "thunder." It was, however, related to a host of other interesting
words—gargle, gurgle, and the French garguille, which ultimate became gargoyle.
Roscher pointed out the black garments of the Eumenides, those Furies
w h o are parallels of the Gorgons, and likened them to lowering stormclouds,
though such an assertion seems a bit of a stretch. Finally, he noted that many
passages from literature that refer to lightning might equally be applied to the
flashing of the staring eyes that are so important a part of the Gorgon's
makeup. Feldman [Howe] wrote that this was an overinterpretation of the ev-
idence, that the apparent equation of flashing eyes with lightning was a feature
of northern European languages and didn't reflect the linguistic situation in
Greece at all. I have to point out, however, that many of the Gorgon parallels
around the world also have had their eyes likened to lightning, and I wonder if
Roscher and his coauthors were not onto something.
 94 The Mystery

But explaining the Gorgon as the stormcloud seems very limited and ulti-
mately unsatisfying. Not that elements of the lightning and thunder couldn't
be present in the Gorgon, but the stormcloud doesn't adequately explain the
features of the Gorgon or its mythology Certainly it doesn't seem to account
for the coincidence of Gorgon parallels around the world.
One example of an explanation that does convincingly account for the par-
ticular form of the Gorgon is the suggestion that it is modeled after the lion.
This idea was raised by K. Gerojannis and P. Walters in the last century and,
more recently, by C. Blinkenberg and by Bernard Goldman. The reasoning is
straightforward—the Gorgon looks like a lion. Such an identification immedi-
ately accounts for the fangs and the curly locks with beard, which is simply the
lion s mane. The protruding tongue is familiar to anyone who has watched li-
ons, or any cat, for that matter. The broad nose is simply a conflation o f the
lion s nose with a man's. 5
In this case the Gorgon parallels support the hypothesis—look at how many
of them are held to derive from lions. Simhamukka ("lion face") as an alternate
name for the Kirtimukkha in India, the "tiger's mask" name for the T'ao-T'ieh
of China, the Simha stakes in Indonesia, the jaguar god faces of Yucatan, all
point to a feline ancestry. In Egypt, Bes seems to have many feline features, in-
cluding the ears. David Ulansey feels that the lion-headed god of Mithraic
iconography is derived from the Gorgon, which would, if his theory were cor-
rect, be a case of a true circular return to origins.
Against this explanation, I note that the Gorgon ought to look even more
leonine. Except for Bes, the Gorgon and all its parallels have very human ears,
often accentuated with earrings. At best, the Gorgon and its parallels seem to
be mixtures, to varying degrees, of beast and human.
Both T. Zell and j. Facius believed that the inspiration for the Gorgon was a
different sort of beast. Independently of one another, each suggested that at
the root of it all was the gorilla—a hairy beast, out of Africa, with the charac-
teristic fangs and very human ears. The gorilla wasn't officially recognized by
European science until a couple of hundred years ago. It is conceivable that its
skin could have hung in Rome as late as the last century of the republic and
not have been recognized. I could add that the baleful glare of the Gorgon finds
a sort of echo in the threatening stare of the gorilla. To an ape, the stare cou-
pled with bared teeth is a threat of the highest order.
Against the gorilla interpretation, I have to note that gorillas make no
tongue gesture comparable to the Gorgon"s, and that the Gorgon's broad nose
doesn't look like the ultra-pug nose of the ape. This proves nothing, of
course—the nose could easily have been distorted by an artist's natural im-
pulses to fashion a human-seeming nose. Or artists could have combined an-
thropoid and feline features to create the Gorgon face.
I have already noted, in Chapter 3, William Ridgeway's interpretation of the
aegis as a sheepskin hung over the body of a warrior, with the sheep's head
forming the head of the Gorgon.
Many authors take the tack that the Gorgon represented the personification
of Fear. This, in fact, was one of the earliest of the modern theories of the
 Explanations 95

Gorgon. Levenzow proposed in 1832 that the Gorgon represented fear of ani-
mals. To Volcker it represented fear of the sea. To Otthi it represented fear of
volcanic eruptions, while to Hay it was fear of the empty wastes of Libya.
Thalia H o w e Feldman saw in the face of the Gorgon fear of the unknown and
of darkness, its protruding tongue representing the inarticulate moans and
sounds of the night. To others the Gorgon represented nightmares. Any or all
of these theories may be correct, but they still do not explain the particular
form of the Gorgon, or of the myth.
Another school of theories offers meteorological explanations. To A.
deGubernatis the face of the Gorgon represented the aurora. One theory,
championed by E. R. Gaedechens in the last century and supported by E.
Gerhard and others, is that the Gorgon is the moon, perhaps even the Man in
the Moon. Support for this position comes from Plutarch, w h o calls the face in
the moon "hideous," and from the work o f the early church father Clement of
Alexandria, w h o noted that the cult of Orpheus in Greece called the m o o n the
Gorgoneion. There is no supporting evidence for Clement s assertion, which
is not surprising. The Orphies were one o f the Mystery cults, and, as such, they
didn't leave behind full particulars o f their beliefs. But whatever they believed,
they were hardly what w e would call mainstream, and in general most inter-
pretations of the Gorgon, in literature or in art, didn't acknowledge much
affinity between the Gorgon and the moon. 6
The situation is different regarding the sun. There does appear to be artis-
tic evidence linking the face o f the Gorgon with the face of the sun. Six and
Homoelle noted this in the nineteenth century and were echoed by Frothing-
ham and Clark Hopkins in the twentieth. T h e face of the Gorgon can be found
in the midst of zodiacs, as a substitute for Apollo on coins and lamps, and in
other situations where one would expect the sun to appear. Turning to the par-
allels, one can't help but notice that the face of the Aztec sun god on the
Calendar Stone is one o f the strongest Gorgon parallels. I suspect that the cor-
relation can, in large part, be set down to the en face presentation of the Gor-
gon, which so accurately reproduces the en face presentation of the sun.
J. H. Croon s theory explains one aspect o f the myth that no other theory
does. He believes that the Gorgon was the underworld demon—the beast of
Hades from The Odyssey—and that it was necessarily associated with the per-
ceived mouths of the underworld. Many of these were hot springs, and he
notes with interest that Gorgon coins and images are very often associated with
volcanic hot springs. One such place is the island of Seriphos. Croon's is the
only theory that tries to account for the association of this otherwise unre-
markable, barren island with the myth of Perseus. As he rightly notes, hot
springs that were connected with by Greco-Roman culture sometimes have
Gorgons associated with them. The springs in Britain at Aqua Sulis were
adorned with a very Gorgonic face.
Robert Graves is probably best known today as the author of I, Claudius and
Claudius the God. He wrote several other historical novels but thought of him-
self mainly as a poet. In addition to all this, he was a mythographer, and his
popular b o o k The Greek Myths is still in print, along with The Hebrew Myths and
 96 The Mystery

The White Goddess. Graves addressed the matter of the Gorgon briefly in The
Greek Myths and at greater length in The White Goddess. His interpretation is
unique.
According to Graves's self-named iconotropic hypothesis, the Gorgon myth
is the result of a misinterpretation of an illustration meant to represent some-
thing else entirely The original series of illustrations depicted the gift of the
alphabet to Mercury. Graves imagines that the original series looked some-
thing like this: In the first picture a naked man stands before three women, the
central one of w h o m presents him with an eye and a tooth, while the outer
two point upward at three cranes flying overhead from right to left in a V-for-
mation. (A version of this scene, possibly created by Graves himself, appears
on the cover of The White Goddess.) The naked man is Mercury, not Perseus,
and he is not depriving the Graiae of their eye and tooth, but rather is receiv-
ing the gift of poetic sight, the ability to interpret the omens of birds and to
understand the alphabet (the tooth is a divinatory item, which explains the last
two gifts). They are being presented by his mother in her aspect as the Triple
Goddess.
In the next scene, Mercury stands in a willow grove, wearing winged san-
dals and holding a sickle, about to cut the twigs that will make up the alpha-
bet. In the next, he stands before three other women in a grove, receiving from
them winged sandals, a bag, and a winged helmet. The sandals and helmet rep-
resent swiftness of thought (like the winged helmet on American dimes in
the first half of the twentieth century, which represented not the god Mercury
but freedom of thought), and the bag is to keep the secret of the alphabet
hidden.
The maiden surrounded by sea monsters is not the about-to-be-sacrificed
Andromeda, but Athena, goddess of wisdom. The face of the Gorgon is reflect-
ed in a mirror, protecting Mercury in his flight. Mercury is shown with the eye
and tooth drawn on either side, which has been taken by the uninitiated to
mean that Perseus was tossing them into Lake Tritonis. He is not being chased
by Gorgons, but escorted by w o m e n wearing Gorgon masks. The face o f the
Gorgon peering from his bag is not Medusa's head being carried in the kibisis,
but a protective sign, indicating a secret that seals the bag containing the sacred
alphabet.
This interpretation is unusually detailed and dazzlingly different from any-
one else's. Where did Graves come by this intelligence? Here is where many
mythographers part company with Graves. He was a firm believer in what he
called analeptic and proleptic thought. The first term refers to the mode of
thought Graves put himself into while writing his historical novels and much
of his poetry. He immersed himself in the writings, lore, and atmosphere of
the historic period he wished to evoke, imagining himself to actually be in that
time. This is the right and proper thing for a historical novelist to do. But Graves
believed that the insights that came to him in this mode of thought were more
than merely consistent images or even possibilities—he believed that this state
of mind broke down the walls of the artificial human construct called Time,
and that he was thus given glimpses of truths that could not be obtained in any
 Explanations 97

other way. Proleptic thought is analogous to this—the obtaining of facts from

the future by a sort of intuitive process that transcends Time to produce in-
sights that aren't accessible to rational thought.
Graves was defensive about this mode of research, claiming that, although
it was in c o m m o n use by poets, historians, physicians, and others, they did not
openly acknowledge it. It looked, he claimed, too much like c o m m o n guess-
work, and once you admitted that you had used such proleptic methods, ex-
perts would be prejudiced against your conclusions, no matter how well you
supported your result with more orthodox research results. "Though they can-
not refute it," Graves said," They dare not accept it." 7
Graves is quite wrong. Intuition is necessary for any creative mind, and the
sources of unusual thoughts and combinations should never be an issue. If
Graves thought he was receiving his ideas by radio from the planet Zorkon,
that would not invalidate his ideas, provided he could buttress them with ap-
propriate documentation. In fact, though, he does not even try to support his
interpretation of the Gorgon myth with any references. He points out some
parallels, but these don't validate his assertions in any w a y Nothing at all re-
sembling his imagined protoimages of the myth o f Mercury and the Alphabet
exists, and it's hard to reconcile this myth with the archaic images of Perseus
and the Gorgons that do exist. Is there any way to square his concept of Athena
as Andromeda with the Corinthian black-figure amphora from Berlin? Perseus,
Ketos, and Andromeda are named on that vase, and Perseus is clearly fighting
off the attacking beast. Graves's protoimages, then, would have to date from a
period much earlier than this piece.
Despite Graves's stern defense, it is hard for the uninitiated to see this as any-
thing but a case of confusing one's hopes with reality. Graves is not held in high
regard by scholarly mythologists. Nevertheless, as his books are reprinted they
continue to promote his views, while the general disapprobation of them is not
publicized. His Greek Myths is an excellent source b o o k (although not the only
one generally available), but its interpretations are permeated with Graves's
analeptic and iconotropic views, and so it must be used with caution.
Perhaps I can't prove that Graves is wrong, but it is temptingly easy to re
tort that likewise he cannot—or at least he has not—proven his ideas correct.
A better response is to provide an alternative hypothesis that has a greater sense
of plausibility to it, buttressed as far as possible with correlating facts. This is
what I hope to do.
It was probably inevitable that Sigmund Freud would weigh in with his o w n
interpretation of the Gorgon, and that he should see it in sexual terms. His ex-
tremely brief essay, "Das Medusenhaupt" ("The Head of Medusa"), is proba-
bly only a preliminary effort that Freud intended to flesh out considerably. It
was not published until after his death.
Influenced in large part by the naming of the Oedipus complex and by his
book Moses and Monotheism, w e tend to see Freud as deeply interested in
mythology, but he begins this essay; "We have not often attempted to interpret
individual mythological themes, but an interpretation suggests itself easily in
the case o f the horrifying decapitated head o f Medusa."
 98 The Mystery

Freud saw in the Gorgon head an obvious symbol of castration. Decapita-

tion, according to him, is associated in the mind with castration, and the snakes
that make up Medusas hair are symbols of castration, albeit in a roundabout
way: "This is a confirmation of the technical rule according to which a multi-
plication of penis symbols signifies castration." The fact that the sight of the
Gorgon turns the observer to stone, stiffening him like an erection, offers con-
solation, since it reassures him that he has a penis. Yet this castration symbol is
placed on the chest of Athena, a female goddess, rendering her unapproach-
able. Freud saw it as inevitable that a "homosexual culture" like that o f the
Greeks would represent a w o m a n as frightening because she is castrated.
Freud was actually anticipated somewhat by Richard Payne Knight, w h o in
1876 wrote that Medusa's head signified both destruction and reproduction as
a symbol of female generative power. Freud's followers Sandor Ferenczi and
J. C. Flugel each wrote essays elaborating upon the theme. The Medusa's head
is a symbol of female genitals without a penis; it harks back specifically to the
genitals o f one s mother. Freud's student and biographer Ernest Jones believed
the Medusa head to be not only phallic, but also a fecal fertilizing sign, based
upon the work of Aristophanes.
More recent writers have tried to reinterpret the image in different ways.
Why, asks Philip Slater, should the virgin goddess Athena display the genitals
o f the Mother? Slater thinks that the Greeks believed they could only expect
kindness from a female as long as she remained a virgin, and that the genital-
Medusa on the aegis served as a reminder of the vindictive Hera. Furthermore,
he believes the snakes are not compensatory, but are the source of the fear, rep-
resenting the vagina itself. It is not the tear of a castrated Mother he sees in the
Gorgon, but of a castrating Mother.
Klaus Thelewit feels the same way. "It's not because it's been bitten that the
'Medusa's head' is so terrifying, but because the head itself can b i t e . . . . It is in
no sense, as Freud thinks, the castrated genitals o f the mother that she displays
as a deterrent; it is the symbol (attached to her by men themselves!) of man's
fear of her uncastrated, horrifying sexual potency." 8
Arthur Miller, based on his examination of cases in which the patients them-
selves drew attention to the figure of the Gorgon in dreams, saw no connec-
tion with a castration complex. Instead, these experiences and an examination
of the original myths led him to believe that the origin of the Gorgon was com-
petition between women—between goddess and mortal, possibly mirroring a
mother-daughter conflict.
More recently, Freud's ideas have been given quite a different twist. Jean
Clair, too, believes that the Gorgon is "a vulva visualized as a face, or even bet-
ter, as a face in the shape of a vulva. Baubo, by contrast, is the face sensualized,
a face made into a vagina, genitalia humanized by being made into a face." To
Clair, Medusa is a taboo figure, but not a castrating threat. Some have carried
this idea further to make the Gorgon a benevolent goddess herself. The notion
was first voiced by Otto Jahn in 1851 and by Mayer before the turn of the cen-
tury Both maintained that the Gorgon represented the darker side of Athena
(and that this is the reason she wears its face on her aegis).
 Explanations 99

In 1911 A. L. Frothingham, in a very influential paper, noted the parallels be-

tween Medusa and the Great Mother, as well as between Medusa and the sun.
He noted the incongruity of placing the Gorgon's face at the center of a lamp,
or on a child's swaddling cloth. More important for his thesis, he noted that the
appearance of the Gorgon in a central position, flanked by lions, on the friezes
of temples at Miletus and Corcyra indicated her identification with the
Mistress of Animals. A preserved plate from Cameirus shows a Gorgon head
atop a winged female figure carrying geese, her legs in the characteristic pose
of Artemis as Mistress of Animals. Another piece he does not mention might
also support this theory. It is a bronze chariot front, now in the museum
Antiker Kleinkunst in Munich, showing a very Gorgonlike female posed
spread-legged between lions.
Jocelyn Woodward, in her b o o k on Perseus in art, comments that the
Corcyra frieze "takes us back to a time long before these Gorgon-figures were
identified with the creatures of the Perseus legend. With her attendant lions,
she embodies the great Nature Spirit o f primitive belief, w h o appears in early
Asiatic and Ionic works of art as a goddess," In response, Erich Neumann
notes: "Without pausing to comment on this passage, w e can take it that the
identity of the Gorgon dispatched by Perseus, and the figure of the Great
Mother w h o rules over wild animals, is proven, even for investigators not fa-
miliar with the real background of the myth." Certainly that is the attitude of
Graves, w h o like Jahn saw her as one aspect of Athena. Through him, and
through such followers as Barbara Walker, the concept has become widespread
and virtually unquestioned.
I, for one, think it is well worth questioning. Direct evidence that Medusa
was ever meant to be an aspect of a Mother Goddess is actually very slim. Her
presence on the frieze o f the temples does not necessarily herald her as a god-
dess. In fact, the presence of Pegasus and Chrysaor on the Corcyra temple
clearly shows that this artwork inhabits the realm of extant myth, rather than
a period before the current myths evolved. No one claims any longer that the
presence of the Gorgon shows these to have been her temples. Even today it
is rare for the deity of a shrine to be depicted over the entrance. In Chapter 9
I will propose a very different explanation for some of the temple appearances
of the Gorgon, particularly the Gorgons atop the columns at Corcyra and
Miletus.
If Medusa were one aspect of a Mistress of Animals or a Great Mother (the
t w o are not necessarily identical) I think w e should expect to see much more
proof than the few pieces that have been set forth in support of this identity.
There are many sources that portray the Gorgon as an apotropaic guardian or
as a monster dispatched by Perseus. Very few support her in this other r o l e —
and the Great Mother is vastly more important than the demon of hell or
Phobos. We should see many depictions of the demon face of the Great God-
dess. But w e do not.
I've saved the best for last. There is one explanation for the Gorgon that is
over a hundred years old and has attracted a great many supporters in that
time. Most o f these theorists seem to have come up with the idea indepen-
 100 The Mystery

dently (I have found only one w h o has acknowledged an earlier source for the
idea—and that was in a note added in proof). This says a lot about the persua-
siveness of the idea; it's also a sobering reminder that it's a good idea to check
the literature thoroughly
The theory first seems to have been proposed by W Roscher in his 1896 re-
view on the Gorgon in the Lexicon, but the idea was given a much fuller treat-
ment by F. T. Elworthy in 1903 in 'A Solution o f the Gorgon Myth." "Is it pos-
sible that anything can be said upon this old-world subject, that has not been
considered and well thrashed out over and over again?" Elworthy asks at the
outset of his work. Noting that the Gorgons seemed to live near the ocean, and
that the places where the story was current were all in the Mediterranean re-
gion, he wonders whether it was possible that the disembodied head with its
snaky hair and staring eyes might not be inspired by the squid and octopus.
Placed in the proper orientation, the head of an octopus, with its startlingly hu-
man eyes (a textbook example of convergent evolution) and its tentacles stand-
ing in for the thick, ropy curls depicted on the forehead of the Gorgon, looks
like it might be the perfect model for the Gorgoneion. This would explain why
the head was the first element in the myth, and why the Perseus legend was
later needed to explain how that head became separated from the body
Elworthy suggests that the parrotlike beak of the octopus might be responsi-
ble for the image of the protruding tongue. Later writers have proposed that
the pronounced siphon of the cephalopods, used by the squid for its jet propul-
sion, might have inspired the tongue, while the parrot-beak became the fangs
of the Gorgon. The evolution from thick locks of hair to snakes is perfectly un-
derstandable if the snakes derive from the tentacles of an octopus or squid.
Elworthy writes about the beard only in passing and does not try to account
for it. But there is a telling parallel from the work of the sixteenth-century
Swedish archbishop Olaus Magnus, whose description of the Kraken (now
widely believed to be a giant squid) paints it in these terms: "Their heads [are]
square, all set with prickles, and they have sharp and long horns round about,
like a tree rooted up by the roots. . . having heirs [sic] like goose-feathers, thick
and long, like a beard hanging down." Magnus also emphasized the huge eyes.
W h e n an artist tried to reconstitute the creature from this description, he drew
a fish body (since it was, after all, a sea creature) with a lionlike head, mane,
whiskers, staring eyes, and teeth. So it's entirely conceivable that a combina-
tion o f second-hand description and unsupervised artistry could produce a
very Gorgonlike figure from a cephalopod.
Elworthy believed that many of the fleurets and architectural flourishes on
Greek vase paintings and buildings are actually unrecognized drawings of styl-
ized octopus and squid. After Elworthy read his paper at the meeting of the
Folk-Lore Society in London in December 1902, he was approached by people
wanting to point out parallels. He mentions these in his postscript to the
printed article, listing heads from Nineveh, Peru, and New Zealand. Even
though all these places are far from the Mediterranean, he noted, their inhab-
itants were people w h o would have knowledge of octopus or squid.
 Explanations 101

5.2 Illustration of the KrakenfromKonrad Gesner's 1558 book Historia Animalium, based upon
the description by Olaus Magnus, aided by the artist's imagination. The tentacles have become a
beard, and the creature has come to resemble a lion's head on a fish body Anyone unaware of the
history would be hard pressed to reconstitute the original octopus/squid form.

In 1913 L. Siret suggested independently that the face was that of a cuttlefish.
Psychoanalyst Jacques Schnier, writing in American Imago in 1956, again pro-
posed the octopus, tying his explanation to Freud's. Science writer Willy Ley
also suggested that the octopus lay behind the Gorgon, using the same argu-
ments as Elworthy. (Ley also suggested that Scylla, the many-headed monster
that attacked the ship of Odysseus, was another manifestation of the octopus.)
H.J. Rose, in his Handbook of Greek Mythology, notes that G. H. Green also sup-
ported the octopus as the inspiration for the Gorgon.
Probably the most extensive theory is one put forward by Jerome Y. Lettvin,
now professor emeritus at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology His ar-
ticle ' T h e Gorgon's Eye" appeared in 1977 and has been anthologized once
since then. Lettvin has written several chapters on the subject for a b o o k ten-
tatively to be called The Head on the Shield of Pallas, but this work has not been
finished. Dr. Lettvin informs me that it probably will not be published, so the
additional information I give here might be the only place it will see print.
Lettvin's theories go far beyond the resemblance of the cephalopod to a dis-
embodied head. He draws attention to the parallels between the properties of
the gifts Perseus receives and the characteristics of cephalopods. The squid, he
notes, is very c o m m o n in the Mediterranean. If you cut off the head (and a
squid is not "all head"), what is left resembles a sandal with wings at the toes,
just like the flying sandals of Hermes, or those the Nymphs gave to Perseus.
T h e allusion to flying is not at all inappropriate—squid can make great leaps
out of the water, seeming to "fly" for distances of up to thirty feet. They ac-
complish this with a burst of water through their siphons, jetting into the air
in their swimming formation to avoid predatory fish. Aristotle was well aware
o f the flying ability of squid and commented on it. W h y should the Greeks of
a few centuries earlier not have known also?
The helmet of invisibility also has its counterpart in the cuttlefish, which
can become invisible against its background through its ability to change color
 102 The Mystery

and patterning in a fraction of a second. Lettvin notes that the legend does not
say that the helmet made the wearer transparent, for which the Greeks had a
perfectly serviceable word, but invisible, which is an appropriate word for the
ability to match one's color and pattern with one's background. The helmet of
Athena, he notes, has the shape of a cuttlefish that has had its head removed.
Even the nosepiece of the helmet bears this out.
Finally, Lettvin sees a parallel between the octopus and the kibisis, the
pouch given to Perseus, which he identifies with the magical purse that can
hold whatever is put into it without growing larger itself. "I myself have given
an octopus many crabs, one after the other," he notes, "an aggregate much
greater in size than the body of the octopus itself, and every one vanishes un-
der the creature and the octopus never grows larger." The octopus manages
this trick by paralyzing its prey with its saliva, which then liquefies the soft parts
of the crab. The octopus sips the fluid and stores it under its interbrachial mem-
brane (the "webbing" between its arms). The storage capacity of the inter-
brachial membrane is much great than that of the octopus's mantle, or body.
Squid, cuttlefish, and octopus are three different cephalopods, the three lit-
toral species to be found in the Mediterranean. It is not surprising that each
would represent a different gift to Perseus. Lettvin also thinks that the three
different species explain the three Gorgon sisters and their names. Euryale
("widely leaping") refers to the squid, whose leaps can take it flying into the air.
Stheno (the "strong") is the cuttlefish with its tenacious grip, which is due both
to muscular strength and to claws built into the tentacles. Medusa ("queen") is
the octopus. The octopus is singled out for this exalted title because it is the
most intelligent of the three—the most intelligent invertebrate, in fact. Lettvin,
w h o has worked with octopodes, 9 recounts stories of their intelligence, cun-
ning, and personality. Octopodes, he says, lie in wait to ambush their prey, lay
clever traps, and have good memories. They will play pranks on the humans
w h o come in contact with them.
Lettvin points out the description of the Gorgons as having "beauti-
ful cheeks" 1 0 and asks, What animals have beautiful cheeks? The mantle of
the octopus forms the "cheeks" of the Gorgon face, and its ability to change
color makes them beautiful. This analogy is particularly apt, because the oc-
topus "breathes" underwater, so its cheeks expand and contract just as human
cheeks do.
The ability of the Graiae to exchange eye and tooth finds a fascinating par-
allel in the behavior of the octopus. The octopus lacks a bony skeleton, so its
eye does not lie in an orbit o f the skull, as the human eye does. Instead, it is
backed up by a vascular sinus. W h e n two male octopodes meet, they fight for
territory in an unusual way. The "attacker" will inflate this sinus, increasing the
apparent size of his eye until it seems about four times its original size. The "de-
fender" will then do the same as the attacker's sinus deflates. The batde goes on
until the loser retreats. When an actual "hands-on" battle ensues, the octopodes
entwine arms and alternately poke their parrotlike beaks at one another.
Lettvin believes that the Graiae correspond to pelagic cephalopods—those
dwelling in the deep ocean rather than the shallow waters of the coastal
 Explanations 103

Mediterranean. These creatures are generally less vivid in color and so could
reasonably be called "the gray ones." Even these species can have a surprising
appearance, however; at least one such squid is adorned with phosphorescent
spots. When the squid is pulled from the sea and placed in a bucket, the
flickering display of activated spots plays over its skin, looking like city lights as
seen from the air.
The protruding tongue so characteristic o f the Gorgon finds its inspiration
in the octopus's siphon, as mentioned above. The siphon is the cylindrical tube
through which the octopus expels water that has been first sucked in through
lateral valves. It provides the cephalopod with its "jet propulsion." A similar or-
gan in the squid allows it to leap free o f the water for considerable distances.
The siphon is a highly mobile organ and can be directed with great accuracy,
just like a human tongue.
Finally, the ability of the Gorgon to petrify its victims has an exact parallel
in the behavior of the octopus and its prey. If you place a crab in a tank con-
taining an octopus that is apparently asleep, the crab will continue to walk
around until the eye of the octopus opens, at which point the crab will freeze
in place. The octopus can see and eat a moving crab, but a motionless crab can,
like the octopus, blend into the background and become invisible.
There is even a parallel between cephalopods and the myth of the miracu-
lous birth of Chrysaor and Pegasus. Lettvin notes that the main predator for
octopus (aside from humans) is the moray eel. Moray eels respond strongly to
the scent/taste of octopus, an effect that can be seen in the laboratory if wa-
ter from an octopus tank is poured into a tank containing an eel.
In addition to its ability to jet away through the water, the octopus can se-
crete an inky fluid, which not only obscures vision, but also saturates the sur-
rounding water with its scent, further confusing the predator about the loca-
tion of the octopus. In the confusion generated by the ink cloud, the octopus
often escapes. Other creatures find this cloud of octopus ink confusing and
even irritating and flee the vicinity as well. The last to leave, because it is the
slowest swimmer, is the seahorse. The dark cloud of ink coming from the oc-
topus is thus like a dark stormcloud emanating from the head of the Gorgon.
The last things to emerge from this are the moray eel, with its golden, sword-
like body, and the seahorse, with its horselike face, its Pegasus "wings," and a
fishtail as is sometimes seen on winged horses (Lettvin cites Venetian art).
These parallels between the octopus and the Gorgon are easily observed by
modern scientists, w h o can keep the cephalopods in glass-sided tanks. I asked
Lettvin if it was possible that ancient Greek fishermen were aware of the same
facts. He assured me that it was. Lettvin did his work with octopodes while liv-
ing in Naples, Italy The fishermen and sponge divers there were perfectly
aware of the traits of the octopodes from firsthand experience. Since the
cephalopods were littoral creatures, living in shallow waters and rocky tidal
pools along the shore, it would not have been at all difficult for the ancient
Greeks to observe their behavior.
Unfortunately, Lettvin says, the Mediterranean today is "overfished" and is
"practically a dead sea." The numbers and varieties of marine life that would
 104 The Mystery

have been known in ancient times are greatly reduced, and many species have
vanished completely It is much harder today to imagine the creatures and be-
haviors that couled have contributed to the rich body of Greek mythology
There is more to Lettvin s explanation, but it is of a very different nature and
involves astronomical symbolism, which we will get to in the next section.
What I have covered here includes most major theories on the origins of the
Gorgon. The list is by no means complete—I am perpetually uncovering new
theories or new wrinkles on old theories. Nevertheless, I have found most of
these theories not entirely convincing (although I was, for a long time, con-
vinced that the cephalopod theory came closest to the truth). It was while
researching the cephalopod theory, in fact, that I came across different expla-
nations for the origin and use of the Gorgon that I had not seen before—ex-
planations for why the Gorgon looks as it does, why it is used on shields and
antefixes, why it is an apotropaic device. I finally thought I could see different
reasons for the genealogy of the Gorgons and the Graiae, the reason Perseus
uses a curved sword, why he was born of a golden shower, why there are three
Gorgons and three Graiae, and why only Medusa is mortal. At last, I thought,
I had found an explanation for why the image of the Gorgon seems to be so
widespread. Before I begin, however, it will be necessary to take a slight detour
through the history of a branch of astronomy.
 Of)IRA ADT> ALÇOL

"Mira—Strïws—names of stars, are they not, 0

sheik?" asked Ben-Hur, going to each of the four, and
to the sire, offering his hand.
"And why not?" replied Ilderim. "Wert thou ever
abroad on the desert at night? "
"No."
"Then thou canst not know how much we Arabs
depend upon the stars. We borrow their names in
gratitude, and give them in love. My fathers all had
their Miras, as I have mine; and these children are
stars no less. "
—Lew Wallace,
Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ, 1880

THE LINES IN THE EPIGRAPH ABOVE are d r a w n from the section in L e w

Wallaces epic novel in which Judah Ben-Hur, returning to Jerusalem and his
showdown with boyhood-friend-turned-nemesis Marcellus, stops at the oasis
and meets Sheikh Ilderim. The sheikh, elated to discover that Ben-Hur has
raced at the Circus Maximus in Rome, eagerly shows off his white horses, all
named for the stars.
The historical research of Wallace, the former Civil War general and west-
ern governor, is impressive. He has captured the mood and the feel of a long-
ago era. His vocabulary and dramatic choices may feel a little Victorian to
someone raised at the end of the twentieth century—what modern novelist
would choose to make Balthazar, one o f the Three Magi, a major character in
a novel set during the ministry of Christ?—but the liveliness of his action makes
up for it. W h o before Wallace had ever tried to depict a Roman chariot race in
such vivid detail? Nevertheless, despite his thorough research, he got things
slightly w r o n g in this scene with the sheikh.
T h e modern name o f the star Mira is omicron Ceti, the designation given
it by Johannes Bayer in his 1603 star atlas, the Uranometria. Oddly enough,
Omicron Ceti is also the older of the two names, because "Mira" was not ap-

107
 108 The Solution

plied to the star until thirty-five years later, in the Historiola delta Mira Stellae of
Helvetius. In other words, Sheikh Ilderim called his horse after a star that
would not bear that name for another 1,600 years.
Wallace can be forgiven his error. Mira, after all, is one name for the star,
and it certainly looks older and less "scientific" than omicron Ceti. Further-
more, the name is Latin, as w e should expect in a novel set during the Roman
Empire. We don't know what the Romans or the Greeks called Mira. It's not
even mentioned in the great ancient register of stars, the Syntaxis of Claudius
Ptolemy
Mira means "wonderful" or "miraculous," and there is good reason to give
that name to this particular star, since it does have a remarkable property. The
story of how the features o f Mira and the star Algol were discovered will take
us on a detour from the study of the Gorgon, but the story is important to un-
derstanding what I believe to be one of the foundations of the myth of Perseus.
Besides this, the tale is interesting in its own right, and I don't think it has ever
been fully set down in a popular text. 1
David Fabricius, born at Esena in 1564, was a Lutheran clergyman, first at
Resterhave, then at Osteel in East Friesland in Holland. By the beginning of the
seventeenth century he had also become one of the best observational as-
tronomers in Europe. He was in constant communication with Johannes Kep-
ler, who considered Fabricius second only to Tycho Brahe as an astronomer.
This was high praise, since Brahe is still generally acknowledged as the great-
est observational astronomer. Fabricius spent time at Brahe's own observatory,
and Fabricius's son Johann was the first observer o f sun spots, independent of
Galileo.
O n the evening of August 13, 1596, Fabricius was looking at the constella-
tion Cetus and noted something very peculiar: the normally dim, reddish star
that should have been near the center of it wasn't there anymore. On repeated
viewings he still failed to find the star. Fabricius, excited, wrote about it to Kep-
ler, his constant correspondent, and his antidiscovery was published. Curiously,
he does not seemed to have looked for the star again, because it does not reap-
pear in his writings. Fabricius continued as minister and astronomer at Osteel
until May 7,1617, when he was killed by one of his own parishioners, w h o he
accused of stealing a goose.
But the star that disappeared had, in time, reappeared. The next person to
notice it was Johannes Bayer, w h o named it in his Uranometria. Bayer s system,
which is the one still in use today, was to name the stars by using a Greek let-
ter to indicate its relative brightness in the constellation, followed by the pos-
sessive form of the name of the constellation the star appeared in. Thus, alpha
Ceti was "alpha of the constellation Cetus," the brightest star on the constel-
lation. Mira was called omicron Ceti. Omicron is the fifteenth letter of the
Greek alphabet, indicating that the star was pretty dim when Bayer saw it. In
modern reckoning, it was fourth magnitude, on a scale where first magnitude
is brightest and fourth magnitude is about the limit o f visibility in a modern
urban setting. Bayer saw nothing unusual about the dim reddish star, but at
least it had finally been given a name.
 Mira and Algol 109

The properties of Mira were first noted by another Dutch astronomer,

Phocylides Holwarda, in 1638. On December 16 of that year he was preparing
for an observation of a lunar eclipse by measuring the altitudes of various stars
when he noticed that there seemed to be an unusually bright star in the con-
stellation Cetus. He noticed it again several days later when confirming his
measurements. This new star was in the same place as omicron Ceti, but it was
clearly brighter than the nearby third-magnitude stars, whereas omicron Ceti
was supposed to be fourth magnitude. On the advice of a professor of mathe-
matics, Holwarda began a regular study of the star. Over the course of the next
year it dimmed and vanished, but it reappeared on November 7,1639. Holwarda
was able to show that this was not a new star, but occupied exactly the same
position as the old star. He had discovered the first variable star.
It is often said that Aristotle held that nothing in the heavens ever changed,
and that any apparent variations in the heavens must be due to events taking
place in the region below the moon—the "sublunary sphere." Aristotle never
actually says this in any of his existing writings, but his followers were eager
enough to push the concept. By the Middle Ages it had worked its way into an
overall philosophy of the heavens, in which the regions beyond the moon were
composed of perfect, unvarying material, in contrast to the corrupt and sinful
matter of the earth. Astronomy thus found itself straitjacketed at the start of
the modern era. The great nova of 1054 that produced the Crab Nebula was
not even recorded in Europe (though Chinese records refer to it), possibly be-
cause theory triumphed over observation. The temper of the times had
changed by November n, 1572, when the then-young Tycho Brahe observed
the bright new star in the constellation Cassiopeia. His 1573 book, De Nova Stella
(On the New Star) documented the phenomenon and introduced the word nova
into the language of astronomy.
By 1639, then, Europe was ready for new things in the sky. Johannes Hevelius
(whose original Polish name, distinguishable under his Latin nomen, was
Heweliusza) of Gdansk produced the Historiola della Mira Stellae (Little History
of the Wonderful Star) to describe the discovery.
Continued observations showed that the star had a somewhat irregular in-
terval of about 330 days between maxima, but the period varied, as did the am-
plitude. In 1779 the star blazed to first magnitude, putting it among the ranks
of the brightest in the sky. The astronomer Bullialdus (Ismael Boulliau) sug-
gested that the variations occurred because Mira had spots like the ones the
younger Fabricius had discovered on our own sun. As the star rotated, sections
having more spots came into view and the star appeared dimmer. The rotation
of the star accounted for the mostly regular period, but the appearance and dis-
appearance of spots caused the variations in period and brightness.
This explanation is ingenious, but unfortunately it is not correct. Mira is
what is today called a long-period variable. It is a red giant with a faint blue-
white companion, and the variations in its brightness are related to changes in
the size of the star. Mira expands and contracts like a balloon, getting brighter
as it gets larger. It is this process, rather than patterning of sunspots, that causes
the variations in the period and intensity of Mira's brightness. Such long-
 110 The Solution

M I R A - AN IDEALIZED LIGHT CURVE

6.ia (top) & b (bottom) Light curves of the variable star Mira (omicron Ceti). A light curve
plots the intensity of the star as a function of time. The upper plot shows the variation over a 1400
day period, showing several cycles. The lower curve is a composite "ideal* curve showing the varia-
tion over a single 331 day cycle. ReprintedfromBurnham's Celestial Handbook (1978) by Robert
Burnham, Jr. by permission of Dover Publications.

period variables are now called Mira-type, and they form the largest class of
variable stars in the sky, currently numbering about four thousand.
After Hevelius published his discovery, astronomers started looking for
other such variable stars. For the next thirty years they had little success. Then,
around 1667, Geminiano Montanari of Bologna found that the star called Algol
in the constellation Perseus also disappeared, Montanari reported his observa-
tions in "Sopra la sparizione d'alcune stelle e altre novita celesti" in Prose di
Signore Academici Gelati di Bologna in 1671. What he had to say was tantalizing,
though brief. The star was, he said, subject to frequent mutations. Normally it
seemed to be third magnitude, but in 1667 he saw it decrease to fourth magni-
tude. In 1669 it increased to its original strength and beyond, attaining second
magnitude, but the next year it dropped back to fourth magnitude again.
Montanari died not long after composing his report, but his observations on
the variability of Algol were confirmed sixty years later by Maraldi and by
Christfried Kirch. Curiously, no one thought to try to measure the actual pe-
riod of variation until 1782. That year three men measured it simultaneously.
 Mira and Algol 111

T h e man usually given credit for determining the period o f Algol (and there-
fore, in most minds, of truly discovering its variability) was an extraordinary
individual named John Goodricke. Goodricke was born in 1764 to a well-to-do
family at Ribston Hall near Wetherby in Yorkshire, England. His family was
heir to a baronetcy and served Britain in a diplomatic capacity John's grandfa-
ther was envoy extraordinary at Stockholm and a privy councillor to George
III; his father, Henry, served in Groningen, Holland, where he met his bride,
Levina Sessler. O f their five children to survive infancy, John was born deaf
John Goodricke was fortunate to live in a wealthy and enlightened family
At the age of eight, he was sent to the academy of Thomas Braidwood in
Edinburgh. Braidwood was a man ahead of his time, using new methods to
teach his deaf students to read lips and to speak, as well as teaching them to
read and write. In 1778 John was enrolled at a regular academy in Warrington,
England. Upon completion of his studies, he returned to his parents, w h o were
now living on the family estate at York.
Living nearby were the Pigotts, Nathaniel and his son Edward. Both were
astronomers. Nathaniel was a member o f the Royal Society of London, the
Brussels Academy, and the Paris Academy of Science, and he corresponded
regularly with William Herschel and Nevil Maskelyne, the royal astronomer at
Greenwich. The Piggots moved to York in 1780 and began acquiring the latest
instruments. Edward made his first observations there in the autumn of 1781.
It seems that a relationship developed almost immediately between Edward
Pigott and John Goodricke. Goodricke kept a journal of his observations, and
the very first is dated November 16,1781: "Mr. E. Piggot [sic] told me that at 9
o'clock P.M. yesterday he discovered a Comet." Pigott, for his part, had com-
plained to Herschel that there was no one to converse with in York. Sharing a
common interest in astronomy and a common boredom with York, the two
young men started performing observations at their own telescopes, then com-
paring notes and opinions. Goodricke started out as an avid pupil of the older
Edward, but they soon became collaborators. Michael Hoskin, w h o studied
their work, commented that:

In their published papers, and m o r e revealingly in their private journals, each

gives credit unstintingly to the other, and there is only o n e trace of a clash be-
tween them: o n 31 July 1783 they had w h a t G o o d r i c k e afterwards described as
"too warm a dispute." . .. The next day Goodricke noted that Pigott had justice
on his side and that the record on the previous page ought to be "blotted out of
the Journal," It is amusing to picture this heated argument, presumably con-
ducted through pencilled notes of ever-increasing bluntness!2

In the course of their observations, Goodricke and Pigott studied variable

stars, observing known variables and searching for new ones. Goodricke ob-
served Mira from August through October 1782. O n October 23, Pigott directed
Goodricke's attention to Algol, noting that "this star is variable." The study of
variable stars looked promising, Montanari claimed to have found a hundred
such stars. Goodricke made up a list of possible variables and started watching
them. He observed Algol on October 24 and 29 and on November 1 and 7 but
 112 The Solution

didn't see anything to excite his interest. On November 12, however, he was sur-
prised to find that the normally second-magnitude star was of only fourth mag-
nitude. He observed it for an hour and found that it remained very dim. He
thought perhaps this was an optical illusion, or a problem with his eyes (how
shocking that thought must have been for a deaf man!), or that the dimness
might be due to "bad air." On the next night both Pigott and Goodricke ob-
served Algol and found it was once again a second-magnitude star.
At that time the only measured examples of variable stars were Mira, with
its eleven-month period, and Chi Cygni and R Hydrae, which were also long-
period variables. The two astronomers must have been expecting Algol to have
a similarly long period. When, instead, Goodricke saw that Algol was back to
second magnitude only one night after he recorded its dimming, he must have
been sure something was wrong with the previous evenings observations. But
perhaps a seed of doubt was introduced. Both men continued to observe Algol
over the next month. On December 28, they saw Algol change significantly in
brightness within a very short period. In a note to Goodricke, Pigott suggested
that the only thing that could cause so abrupt a change in brightness could be
an eclipse: "The opinion I suggested was, that the alteration of Algol's bright-
ness was maybe occasioned, by a Planet, of about half its size, revolving around
him, and therefore does sometimes eclipse him partially."3
Goodricke also noted this suggestion in his journal. The two continued to
observe the stars, and by the end of January 1783, Goodricke had come to be-
lieve that the period o f Algol must be far shorter than that of Mira—only about
seventeen days. He continued to accumulate evidence, and by the middle of
April became convinced that the period was incredibly short—only two days,
twenty hours, and forty-five minutes.
Pigott searched the earlier literature but could find no record that Montanari
or Maraldi had actually measured the period. He wrote to Maskelyne, the royal
astronomer, and asked him to pass the word to Herschel about the discovery.
Word quickly spread to the scientific community in London. On May 12
Goodricke wrote a long letter detailing his work to the Reverend Anthony
Shepherd, the Plumian Professor at Cambridge, w h o read the letter at the usual
meeting of the Royal Society in London. Pigott is not mentioned except as
confirming Goodricke s observations, and from the relationship between the
men, it is clear that he stepped aside and let his young protégé take full credit
for the discovery and for their shared theories about the variation. Goodricke
mentions both the eclipse hypothesis for the variation and a sunspot theory that
resembled Bullialdus s theory for the variability of Mira. Perhaps he did so be-
cause Herschel distrusted the eclipse hypothesis—no one had been able to de-
tect a companion to Algol. So John Goodricke and Edward Pigott were two of
the first astronomers to quantify and attempt to explain the variability of Algol.
The very next article to appear in the Journal of the Royal Society also con-
cerned the measurement of the period of Algol—but it had nothing to do with
Goodricke or Pigott. It was written by someone working independently and
reaching the same conclusions. Johann Georg Palitzsch is a man who has been
unfairly lost in the history of science. He does not even rate a mention in the
 Mira and Algol 113

Dictionary of Scientific Biography, although he is the man w h o was the first to

observe the predicted return o f Halley s comet after Edmund Halley had made
his prediction of its seventy-six-year period. 4
Palitzsch was born on June n , 1723, in Prohlis, near Dresden in Saxony
Unlike Goodricke, he was an only child, the son of a farmer. At the age of
twenty-one he married and assumed responsibility for the family farm. He
learned his astronomy from books until he met Christian Gartner, a yarn mer-
chant by profession and an astronomer by night. Gartner manufactured his
o w n optical instruments, and Palitzsch soon wanted his own. Gartner, w h o
was politically well connected, introduced Palitzsch to the inspector of the
electoral cabinet of Saxony, w h o taught Palitzsch how to use observing equip-
ment.
O n Christmas night in 1758, Palitzsch was observing the stars at about 6:00
P.M. Oddly enough, he was looking at Mira: "I observed the stars with my eight-
foot tube to look after the n o w bright star in Cetus, and also to see whether the
comet, whose coming was announced long ago and which was eagerly
awaited, had arrived and made itself visible." The spot of light he saw between
the stars Epsilon Piscium and Delta Piscium moved to a different location the
next night, confirming its identity as a comet. Palitzsch told his friend Gotthold
Hoffman, a professor of mathematics at Dresden, w h o confirmed the discov-
ery and announced it in January in the local newspaper, the Dresdenische
Gelehrte Anzeigen. Palitzsch himself did not claim the discovery at the time,
probably because there had been so many false alarms. Observations of comets
in September 1757 and May 1758 (both by Palitzsch's friend Gartner) had proven
not to be Halley's comet, so Palitzsch's concern was warranted. The comet that
Palitzsch observed was officially recognized as the returning Halley's comet on
January 20,1759, by Gottfried Heinsiuus, a professor of mathematics at Leipzig.
It's worth taking a moment here to consider just what Palitzsch had done.
He was the first to observe the predicted return of a comet. (Halley himself
had died in January 1742, sixteen years before the return, and was not able to
see that his prediction had come true.) As events clearly show, it had to be the
observation of the correct comet, in the right place at the right time. This
means that Palitzsch had to work out the time and location. Such mathemati-
cal calculations are straightforward, but they are neither easy nor obvious. It is
true that Palitzsch was not working in a vacuum—many others were also look-
ing for the return of the comet, and there were many publications dealing with
the expected return. Yet Palitzsch should get a considerable amount of credit
for predicting the location of the comet, as well as for his persistence in obser-
vation. Nevertheless, he found himself slighted. The Paris Academie Royale
des Sciences announced in 1759 that Halley's comet had been rediscovered by
"a simple farmer w h o did not realize the importance o f his discovery, acciden-
tally and with the naked eye." The tale became part of astronomical folklore,
so that as much as seventy years later the astronomer Wilhelm Olbers felt com-
pelled to set the record straight in the Berliner Astronomisches Jahrbuch for 1828.
We have no records to show how Palitzsch made his observations of Algol,
or what prompted him to look. (Palitzsch's home was destroyed during the
 114 The Solution

Napoleonic wars and his instruments scattered. By contrast, both Pigott *s and
Goodricke's houses still stand in York.) But he communicated his discovery in
a letter to Joseph Banks, president of the Royal Society. The letter was deliv-
ered by the Count de Brühl, the Saxon ambassador to Britain (who was also an
amateur astronomer), and read on November 13,1783. It is only half a page, in
contrast to Goodricke s impressive nine, and contains none of Palitzsch's in-
termediate observations, but it gave the period of Algol's variation as two days,
twenty hours, and fifty-three minutes, varying by only eight minutes from
Goodricke's value. He even suggested a reason for the variation: an obscura-
tion due to a dark companion. In a second letter read two months later,
Palitzsch refined his measurement to two days, twenty hours, and between
fifty-one and fifty-two minutes. Goodricke later refined his own measurement
from two days, twenty hours, forty-five minutes to two days, twenty hours,
forty-nine minutes.
W h y is Palitzsch's work so neglected? Both William Herschel and his son
John knew o f and appreciated the observations of Palitzsch, but even today his
contribution is largely ignored. The usually accurate Burnham's Celestial Hand-
book lists Palitzsch along with Montanari and Maraldi as one w h o had observed
but not measured the variability of Algol.
I suspect part of the reason is that Goodricke's story is so much more dra-
matic—the young deaf boy w h o overcomes his handicaps and contributes a
major discovery to science at the age of eighteen, only to come (as we shall see)
to a tragic end. This is much more interesting and compelling than the sketchy
tale of the older Saxon peasant. Another reason, I think, is snobbery In the
pages of the Journal of the Royal Society, the two are introduced as "John
Goodricke, Esq." and "Palitch, a Farmer." Herschel himself acknowledged
Palitzsch's contribution, but few others took notice of him. Palitzsch made
many more observations and became an active correspondent with Herschel,
but he discovered no more variable stars. He died of a stroke on February 21,
1788.
Goodricke's measurement of the period of Algol won him the Geoffrey
Copley medal from the Royal Society, given every year for the most significant
discovery in science. T w o years later, at the age of twenty, he was elected a
member of the Royal Society himself.
Goodricke and Pigott continued to look for variable stars. On September 10,
1784, they both logged new variables—Goodricke's being Beta Lyrae and
Pigott's, Eta Aquilae. Goodricke was able to discern a complex variation o f the
intensity in Beta Lyrae, with two minima. Because of its complex variation,
Beta Lyrae seemed a perfect candidate for the sunspot hypothesis. Today, how-
ever, it is known to be a binary system.
Within a month of finding Beta Lyrae, Goodricke found yet another vari-
able star—Delta Cephei, It was while performing measurements on this new
star that Goodricke contracted pneumonia, from which he died on April 20,
1786. He was twenty-one years old. In his short life, Goodricke had discovered
three of the major types of variable stars. Algol is the prototype "eclipsing vari-
able" (often called "Algols"), Beta Lyrae stars are called "Beta Lyrae objects,"
 Mira and Algol 115

and stars like Delta Cephei are called "Cepheid variables." Since there is a di-
rect relationship between the period of variation of Cepheid variables and their
luminosity, they have proven to be extremely valuable in establishing yardsticks
for the universe.
Pigott continued to observe variable stars, finding two m o r e — R Coronae
Borealis and R Scuti—as well as documenting others that have been shown to
be variables since his death. He made many observations of comets before he
died in 1821,
Goodricke had, before his death, dropped the sunspot hypothesis as an ex-
planation for the variation of Algol, and the general hypothesis was that it was
probably due to a dark companion, despite William Herschel's unease with this
solution. In 1787 a young Swiss mathematician, Daniel Huber, demonstrated
that sunspots could not be the cause of the observed variation. He analyzed
the variation of the brightness over time—what is today called the "light curve"
of the star—and deduced what the properties of the two components of Algol
must be. Huber later became professor at Basel, but his work was completely
forgotten until a German historian of science, Ernst Zimmer, rediscovered it
in the 1950s.
In a Palitzsch-like coincidence, another researcher independently came to
the same conclusions as Huber, and at about the same time. William Sewell,
an English clergyman, sent his calculations to the Royal Society for publication,
but their significance was not recognized, and his papers lay unread at Green-
wich Observatory until they were discovered in 1957 by Olin J. Eggen.
The eclipse hypothesis was finally verified by the spectroscopic work of
H. C. Vogel in 1889. The observed Doppler shifting of the spectra as the bright
component of Algol first approached, then retreated from the direction of the
Earth demonstrated that the radial velocity of Algol varied with the same pe-
riod as the luminosity variation.
If you look at the light curve of Algol, you can see that its intensity remains
very nearly constant for most of its 68.8-hour period. The intensity drops from
its normal high of 2.1 to a low of 3.3 in a period of only a couple of hours. It
rises in about the same time, with the total period of "diminished light" last-
ing about 9V2 hours. Halfway between minima there is a secondary minimum
that is only about V20 as deep as the major minimum. This was not observed
until the beginning o f the twentieth century, when J. C. Stebbins used a light-
sensitive selenium cell to observe the light curve for Algol.
Today it is known that Algol consists of three stars, called Algol A, Algol B,
and Algol C. A and B rotate about each other with a period of 2.867 days (the
period seen by Goodricke, Pigott, and Palitzsch). The plane of their orbit is al-
most coincident with our line of sight of them—it is 8° off, so the stars do not
completely eclipse each other as seen from the Earth. Algol B, the brighter
companion, is a B8-type star, a dwarf. Algol A is a G-type star, a subgiant. Both
stars contribute to the light we see, as demonstrated by the fact that the eclips-
ing of the dim star by the brighter one still causes a dip in the light curve. The
presence of the third star, Algol C, was first inferred in 1855 from variations in
the normally regular period of Algol's minima and was first resolved by speckle
 116 The Solution

ALGOL
G SUN Scol« Mud*.

6C HOURS

6.2 Light curve of the eclipsing variable star Algol (beta Per sei), along with a plan of the Algol
system. The apparent intensity of Algol is the sum of the intensities of the two stars, Algol A and
Algol B, which cannot be resolved by the eye or by telescopes. There is a sudden, sharp reduction in
intensity every 70 hours when the dimmer companion eclipses the brighter. There is also a slight re-
duction in intensity when the bright companion eclipses the dimmer one, which shows that both
stars contribute to the magnitude of the system. The earth ü not quite m line with the plane of
their orbit, so we never see a total eclipse of cither star. The sun is shown to scale. There is a third
companion, Algol C, but it is too faraway to be shown in this scale, Reprinted from Burnham's
Celestial Handbook (1978) by Robert Burnham, Jr., by permission of Dover Publications.

interferometry in 1974. It lies farther from A and B than those two do from each
other. It orbits in the same plane as the other two, but in the opposite direc-
tion, with a period of 1.873 years. Algol A weighs 3.6 solar masses, Algol B
weighs 0.79 solar masses, and Algol C weighs 1.6 solar masses.

WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS have to do with Medusa?

The astronomical observations of ancient peoples have been touted often
enough in the popular press. Egyptian priests could use the rising and setting
of Sirius to predict the rise of the river Nile. Eventually they built temples at
Karnak and elsewhere that were precisely aligned with the rising of the sum-
mer solstice. Stonehenge and the Irish graves at Newgrange were also aligned
with important sunrise dates. The Babylonians compiled extensive tables on
the planets. The Greek philosophers measured the positions of the planets so
well that they knew their orbits could not be circular, and they eventually con-
 Mira and Algol 117

6.3 ition Perseus as it appears in Johannes Bayer's star atlas oj 1603, the Urano-
m< 1ph courtesy of the Department of Printing and Graphic Arts, The Houghton
Library, Harvard University.

structed complex systems of eccentrics and epicycles to account for the ob-
served motions. Measurements of star positions were so accurate that they
were able to deduce the precession of the equinoxes, the 24,ooo-year-long cir-
cling of the pointing of the north pole at different regions of the sky. (We are
fortunate to be living in an era when our north pole actually points toward the
North Star Polaris; this has not been true throughout much of human history.)
Is it possible that the ancient astronomers who were capable of making such
subtle measurements could miss something as obvious as the blinking on and
off of Algol and Mira?
If you look at any star chart, you will find that Algol is represented as one
of the eyes of the decapitated head of Medusa, grasped in the left hand of
Perseus. His right hand holds aloft his sword, and Perseus is twisted in the sky
in an awkward position that at least prevents the hero from looking at the pet-
rifying head of the gorgon. There is no kibisis, but the pictures drawn over the
stars usually represent the shield, the flying sandals, and the helmet. Medusa is
shown in her snaky-haired glory. The representation is universal, and all
Western sky atlases can trace their depictions back to the 1603 Uranometria of
Johannes Bayer. There is a parallel tradition in the Arab world, where a star at-
las was published by the tenth-century Persian astronomer Ramah al-Sufi.
Drawings based upon al-Sufi's work depict a very Eastern-looking Perseus
 118 The Solution

6.4 Arab interpretation of the constellation Perseus as it appears in an edition of the star atlas of
al-Sufi ('Abd al Rahman Abu al Husain) of 964. Perseus does not look away from the head of the
demon, which, in turn, does not look much like a Gorgon. AI-SU/'J source for the star positions,
Ptolemy's Syntaxis, gave technical information but none of the mythology. Photograph of a
manuscript in the Cairo National Museum courtesy of Professor Owen Gingerich, Harvard-
Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics.

holding a monstrous head that isn't really a gorgon s head. It has tusks and gen-
erally looks male, sometimes having a moustache and large ears. There are no
snakes in its hair, but its hair is long, and Perseus is holding the head by a hand-
ful of its generous locks.
The Persian Perseus of al-Sufi occupies the same position as Bayer's West-
ern counterpart, with the same stars in the same parts of the body. The Persian
Perseus, however, twists his body the other way around. He doesn't mind look-
ing at the face of the demon, which seems to indicate that the Muslim world
had no parallel tradition of a monster whose head had the ability to turn the
observer to stone.
Both Bayer and al-Sufi could align the same stars in the same constellations
even though al-Sufi was ignorant of the myth of Perseus because both astrog-
raphers drew their inspiration from a common book of astronomy that didn't
contain the details of the myths. This was the Syntaxis of Claudius Ptolemy of
Alexandria, which al-Sufi knew under the title of Almagest (The Great [Book]). It
had been compiled in the second century C.E. and was nearly lost in the burn-
ing of the great library at Alexandria. Fortunately, an Arabic copy had been
made, and this was perpetuated through recopying.
 Mira and Algol 119

Ptolemy's b o o k makes dull reading, but it is crammed with informa-

tion—rather as if w e had the equivalent of the Alexandrian telephone book of
150 C.E. Preserved therein are the addresses and magnitudes of most of the
prominent stars visible from the Mediterranean. This work gave both Bayer
and al-Sufi the cardinal reference points upon which they could base their pic-
tures. A typical entry for Perseus reads (in the Latin translation recovered from
the Arabic Almagest): "Quae in dextrae manus extremitate et est nebulosa,"
meaning, "That (star) which is at the end of the right hand and is nebulous."
Today this star—actually two cloudlike, nebulous clusters of dim stars—is
called Chi Persei. Both Bayer and al-Sufi placed a dot at this point, at the coor-
dinates given by Ptolemy. They did this with the twenty-nine stars of Perseus
that Ptolemy listed, then simply connected the dots and sketched in the figure
of Perseus as best they could. There's not much more in Ptolemy than this
bare-bones listing of coordinates, so Bayer and al-Sufi had to supply any fur-
ther details from their knowledge o f mythology or from their imaginations.
Where did Ptolemy get his information? It is generally agreed that one of
his sources was an earlier Alexandrian astrographer, Hipparchus, w h o worked
between 161 and 126 B.C.E. Current scholarly opinion is divided on the question
o f whether Hipparchus himself constructed a star catalog. Those w h o think
he did believe that it formed the basis of Ptolemy's. Bits and pieces of
Hipparchus s work survive, but not enough to resolve the issue. A m o n g other
things, however, he refers to the cloudy stars in Perseus's right hand mentioned
above.
Hipparchus seems to have been partially stimulated in his work by a desire
to refute some of the assertions of two earlier writers, Aratus of Soli (310-245
B.C.E.) and Eudoxus of Cnidos (ca. 408-355 B.C.E.). Eudoxos had tried to put to-
gether a star catalog as well, but even less survives of his work than of
Hipparchus's. The work of Aratus, however, has survived. It was a bestseller in
its day, translated from the original Greek into Latin by Cicero, Germanicus
Caesar, and others. Unfortunately, it was a poem, a popular work, and its value
in locating the stars is negligible.
In addition, hostile comments about Hipparchus were made by a writer call-
ing himself Eratosthenes and by his followers. This Eratosthenes was not the
head of the Academy w h o had accurately measured the circumference of the
earth in the third century B.C.E., but someone w h o appropriated his name to
give some oomph to his own writings. This pseudo-Eratosthenes (as he is usu-
ally called) disputed Hipparchus's claim that there were stars in the harpe of
Perseus.
W h a t all this means is that Ptolemy's star identifications probably go back
at least to the time of Hipparchus (the second century B.C.E.), and perhaps as
far back as Eudoxus (the fourth to fifth century B.C.E.). W e could hardly expect
to trace them much further than that, in any case. Accurate records of Greek
science (or anything else Greek, for that matter) don't exist much earlier. There
is a good chance that these are precisely the identifications of the stars that
were originally associated with the constellations. There is some argument
about which star is which, but overall the identifications are pretty consistent.
 120 The Solution

Unfortunately, if the Greeks had definite names for the stars, we don't know
what most of them were. Ptolemy's roundabout descriptions suggest that he
didn't have names to give them. Today the stars are called by names derived,
for the most part, from Arab translations of Ptolemy's long-winded descrip-
tions. These are sometimes not very helpful, as is the case with the stars in the
Gorgon's head. Beta Persei (as named by Bayer), the star more commonly
called Algol, is "Fulgens quae est in Gorgoneo" ("The bright one which is in
the Gorgon"). There is no mention of its being in the eye, or even in the
Gorgon's head, for that matter. Modern translators who call Algol the "bright
one in the Gorgon's head" are imposing their knowledge of the myth on Ptol-
emy's words.
So where does the name Algol come from? It is a medieval Arabic word,
which can be traced no farther back. Most modern English-speaking astron-
omers base their work, directly or indirectly, on the 1899 book by Richard
Hinckley Allen, Star-Names and Their Meanings. It is my sad duty to report that
Allen, for all his scholarship, is not reliable. It's not that his interpretations, like
those of Graves, are fanciful, but that he is too enthusiastic in finding names.
The star Algol was, he says "the Gorgonion of Chrysococca, Gorgoneum Caput
of Vitruvius, Caput Gorgonü of Hyginus, and the Gorgonis Ora of Manilius."
None of this is true. If you consult the original texts, you find each of the
named authors describing the image of Perseus with the Gorgon s head de-
picted in the sky, but none identifies any specific star with any body part. Their
descriptions are very general, simply saying that in that part of the sky you
could find Perseus with the Gorgon's head. It was Allen who hung this blanket
description on the particular star Algol. The truth is that, aside from Ptolemy's
wordy winded descriptive name, we don't know what the Romans might have
called the star. This is a pity, since I would personally love to discover that they
called it the Face of the Gorgon or the Head of the Gorgon (which is what all
of those names cited by Allen mean).
Since Allen is untrustworthy on the Latin names for the star, I don't believe
we can trust him on the Hebrew or Arabic names, either. Frustratingly, Allen
did not give his sources, but it appears likely that he derived what he gives as
the Arabic name, Ra's al Ghul, from the general Arab name for the constella-
tion (which he cites two pages earlier), Hamil Ra's al Ghul ("the bearer of the
demon's head"). Similarly, I distrust his identification of this name with the
Hebrew Lilith.
Once we have dismissed most of the explanations for the various names of
the star, Roman, Arabic, and Hebrew, what are we left with? The only name
we can confidently say was associated with the star, aside from Ptolemy's clin-
ical description, is simply the Arabic Algol which can be translated as "the de-
mon." Also lurking in that Arab name is the even more direct "ghoul," but that
term is misleading. Whereas today we think of a "ghoul" as a sort of animated
corpse or corpse-eater, there is no indication that the creature the Arabs meant
by that name had any association with the dead. A Gfiwî simply seems to have
been an all-purpose demon (so Allen got at least that much right), a supernat-
ural creature that was up to no good. Apparently there is no reliable descrip-
 Mira and Algol 121

tion of the Ghul or its properties. Having stripped away the extraneous, w e are
left with the bare, stark fact that the oldest name we have for the star associ-
ates it with a monster.
That fact alone has encouraged those w h o believe that the variability of
Algol was known to the ancient world to seize upon it and use it as evidence
for their claims. Surely, they reason, the fact that the star was given such an evil
name means that those w h o bestowed it knew there was something unusual
about it. This belief, in turn, has influenced the ways they have translated Algol
Richard Hinckley Allen is among the offenders. He suggested "blinking de-
mon," even though there is nothing at all in the Arab word to suggest "blink-
ing." Because Allen is so frequently quoted, his enthusiastic overinterpretation
has been widely disseminated. Another author suggested "changing spirit,"
which, again, has no real basis in the Arabic name. "Ancient people explained
this phenomenon [the variation of Algol] as the winking of the demon's eye,
still blinking even after the head had been decapitated," statedjulius D. W Staal
confidently in The New Patterns in the Sky, despite the fact that no ancient text
actually says anything like this.
This intense desire to prove something from the name alone has caused
something o f a backlash within the astronomical community, with some writ-
ers asserting that the name is simply a coincidence. "Its Arab name . . . surely
does not derive from early observations of light variations," says Wulff D.
Heintz in Double Stars, "but is merely the translation of the 'Head of the
Medusa' carried in the hand o f the Greek constellation figure of Perseus."
Allen notes that the Chinese knew the star as Tseih She, meaning "the piled-
up corpses," and in this case there is plenty of corroborating evidence that this
name was applied to the star itself Again, the evil connotations of the name
suggest to many that there is something unusual about the star. "There seems
to be a general consensus in its namingsays Jerome Lettvin, "a consensus
which is shared by the astrologers, w h o consider it the most dangerous star in
the heavens: a carrier of misfortune, a mediator of violence." Lettvin goes on
to identify the star with the tradition of the evil eye:

The thesis I mean to advance is that Algol and quite possibly Gorgonea Tenia
[Rho Persei] were the eyes of the Gorgon, of Lilith, of the Lamia, of the crea-
tures whose glance is deadly. These stars became the Evil Eye in the sky partic-
ularly by virtue of their blinking; and they were the nucleus around which the
constellation of Perseus was erected.5

The feature that identifies the star as an eye is the very fact that it "blinks"
on and off, like an eye opening and closing. But why is Algol never overtly said
to be the blinking eye of the Gorgon? Lettvin contends that the reason is, pre-
cisely, because of its potentially malign influence. One does not name the evil
thing. To do so calls oneself to its attention. Lettvin acknowledges the dangers
of proposing a theory that specifically relies on the absence of evidence, but
he believes that the power of the virtually universal belief of the evil eye (well
attested by a lengthy book by F. T. Elworthy, a predecessor in the octopus-gor-
gon theory, as we've seen) provides the sort of extraordinary situation in which
 122 The Solution

such concepts must be considered. He notes that in Greek villages to this day
newborns must be protected from starlight for eight to forty days after birth in
order to prevent their being "overlooked" by the stars—that is, fascinated by
the evil eye.
Lettvin's theory would explain why no one seems to have mentioned the
variation of Algol or Mira in the ancient world. Perhaps it could also explain
Ptolemy's silence on Algol and even the existence of Mira. But some people
are not so sure.
Different scholars have suggested that three ancient societies did know
about Algol's variability, and that they said so plainly. In the first half of the
twentieth century, much of the technical work on Babylonian inscriptions was
carried out by Germans. A German Jesuit father, Franz Xavier Kugler, pub-
lished two volumes titled Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babel (Astronomy and
Astrology in Babylon), which reproduced, transliterated, and translated the an-
cient cuneiform texts devoted to matters astronomical and to articles based on
this material, Kugler died before finishing the third volume, which was com-
pleted by Johann Schaumberger. Schaumberger included a brief essay of his
own, "Haben die Babylonier veränderliche Sterne gekannt?" ("Did the Babylo-
nians Know about Variable Stars?"). I lis evidence consisted of two tablets that
refer to the constellations SU.GI (which coincided with the Greek constellation
Perseus) and DIL.GAN (which included Cetus). The stars of SU.GI, runs the
text, seem at times to get closer together and sometimes farther apart.
Schaumberger believed that this referred to the occasional disappearance of
Algol, and possibly also of Rho Persei (also variable, within narrower limits)
and Eta Aurigac (a variable star much farther away), especially when the con-
stellations were near the horizon, where the dimmed stars could be lost in the
haze. In the case of Mira, the tablets said that the stars of DIL.GAN might be
dark, yellow, red, or go out completely.
The only comments on Schaumberger's speculations have come from N. T.
Bobrovnikoff, another historian o f astronomy. He points out that interpreting
"growing closer together or farther apart" as an indication that the writer knew
about variable stars requires pretty roundabout reasoning, that many unvary-
ing stars would be lost to the haze of the horizon before the variable stars
would, and that the references to DIL.GAN refer to the entire constellation,
not merely to Mira. Other historical astronomers, such as Otto Neugebauer
(who published in Schaumberger's book himself, and w h o wrote the authori-
tative The Exact Sciences in Antiquity), did not even comment on Schaumberger's
theories.
On the issue of Algol, I must agree with Bobrovnikoff—Schaumberger's ex-
planation seems forced. As far as Mira is concerned, I would point out that our
names for these stars have the names for the constellations embedded in
them—omicron Ceti, for instance—and some future civilization trying to re-
constitute our astronomical knowledge from meager records might think that
we, too, were referring to the entire constellation instead of to a single star
within it. So it is possible that the tablets referred to by Schaumberger might
indeed reflect knowledge of the variability of Mira.
 Mira and Algol 123

W h a t is most troubling is that there is only a single tablet inscription that

can be used as evidence of the knowledge of variability. We know a great deal
more about the Babylonians' astronomical knowledge of Venus than w e do
about this subject. If they were aware of and had studied variable stars, why
don't we have more written records of their findings?
The Chinese were known to have been great record keepers on all things,
including the stars. "I am not aware of any Chinese observations of variable
stars," wrote Bobrovnikoff, "and if there is evidence that the ancient Chinese
recognized the existence of variable stars, it should be brought to light." (No
pun, presumably, was intended.) Three astronomers have, in fact, suggested
that the Chinese left records of the variable stars. Edward H. Schafer, in Pacing
the Void: T'ang Approaches to the Stars, noted, "For the Chinese, Algol controlled
the 'rites and ceremonies of death and mourning,' and when it glared evilly,
'dead men [are piled] like hills/ " He is quoting from the Chin Shu, an early
record of stellar observations.
Jorge Sahade and Frank Bradshaw W o o d suggest, in Interacting Binary Stars,
that in the Hsing Ching (The "Star Canon, " compiled between 205 B.C.E. and 25
C.E.) changes in the brightness of the star Tsi-Chi (Algol) were associated with
death in the population and with good or bad fortune.
This all appears to be fairly conclusive evidence, until you examine the texts
closely These do indeed refer to things that will happen when certain stars ap-
pear or disappear—except that the stars referred to are not variable stars and
never have been. Some stars are even described as omens when they appear
"curled" or "straight," though no one has ever proposed that these stars can
even be discerned by the unaided human eye, or that they had such aberrant
shapes. In short, the passages that seem to document observations of Algol as
a variable star belong to a long list of examples that speak about nonvariable
stars varying their appearance and cannot, therefore, be used as evidence of
knowledge of variability. The quote from the Chin Shu is consistent with the
ominous name given to Algol—"the piled-up corpses"—but provides no fur-
ther evidence of knowledge of variability beyond that.
Finally there is India. In 1905 an Indian astronomical historian, Kalinath
Mukherji, published Popular Hindu Astronomy, in which he claimed that Algol
can be identified with the star that is called in Hindi Mayavati. He translates the
name as "changeful," noting that this is also the name of the consort of Mara,
the Hindu god of love. Mukherji s statement seems definite enough. Surely the
name "changeful" indicates knowledge of variability.
But even Mukherji doesn't seem entirely sure that Mayavati is Algol. More
important, his translation of Mayavati may not be unbiased. Any student of
Buddhism or Hinduism is familiar with the concept o f Maya, the illusory na-
ture of the temptations of this world. According to Hindu scholars I have con-
sulted, Mayavati would more accurately be translated "the illusory one." This
interpretation, too, would be entirely consistent with knowledge of the vari-
ability of Algol, but it seems to prove that knowledge far less definitively than
"changeful" would.
So what have I shown in this chapter so far? The ancients may have had
 124 The Solution

knowledge of the variability of Algol and Mira, but there is no secure evidence
to support this theory Translations of names for the stars that seem to indicate
such knowledge—"changeful spirit," "blinking demon," "the changeful"—all
appear to be overenthusiastic mistranslations that cannot be supported by an
unbiased reading of the relevant texts. All we are left with is the general evil
nature of the names of these stars and the possibility that any direct statement
about the variability of the stars was suppressed in order to avoid drawing the
evil eye.
Yet I believe that the ancient people did know about the variability of Algol
and Mira—and of other stars. Why then, have I spent the first part of this chap-
ter shooting myself in the foot? Because I think that the lengths people have
gone to in order to stretch the "evil name" hypothesis into a proof is misguided,
and that the evidence from Chinese, Indian, and Babylonian texts goes as far
as—but no farther than—the "evil name" evidence. The evil eye theory of
Lettvin is plausible, and might explain some of our missing references, but as
he admits, it is a negative hypothesis, relying on the absence of evidence.
I believe that we can find positive evidence for ancient Greek and Chinese
knowledge of variable stars, and that the evidence is buried in mythology. We
begin with R. H. Allen's curious translation of Algol—"blinking demon." Some
have rendered this "winking demon," apparently out of the knowledge that
Algol is the rapidly varying star. As I've noted, there is nothing to support the
word "winking" in that translation. Even if there were, though, it should at-
tract our attention. The Gorgon, most emphatically, does not blink.
The most striking feature in all representations of the Gorgon and its par-
allels is the Stare—the rigid, fixed, penetrating, unblinking stare. That
stare—far more than the later snaky hair, and even more than the grin and the
protruding tongue—defines the Gorgon. It is the staring monster, whose evil
look can petrify Odysseus or turn the unwary to stone.
The sort of constellation that could inspire such a myth might consist of
two preternaturally bright stars close enough together to be imagined as a pair
of staring eyes, but not a single blinking, winking star. I repeat, the Gorgon
does not blink. There is no suggestion in the myth that the Gorgon opens and
shuts its eyes. Until the late Beautiful period, there are no pictures of Gorgons
with their eyes closed, even though, in the myth, the Gorgon was asleep when
Perseus came upon her and decapitated her. Artists and actors will understand
why this is so: if you only have one opportunity to picture someone, you want
that picture to display all the most obvious characteristics of your subject. Even
if the moment portrayed logically requires you to depict atypical behavior, you
should try to avoid doing so. So until late in her artistic history, Medusa kept
both her eyes wide open and face forward. There has never been a picture of a
Gorgon winking, with one eye open and one eye closed.
I submit that if the star Algol represents the eye of the Gorgon, as Bayer and
all his followers claim, and if the star influenced the myth, then the myth would
have developed in a very different form. The Gorgon would have been a blink-
ing monster, perhaps a one eyed monster like the Cyclops, and the blinking eye
would have petrified when it was open. But the myth did not take this form.
 Mira and Algol 125

The star Algol, I hold, represents something else entirely: not the eye of the
Gorgon, but her entire head. Allen's assertion is correct, I believe, although the
evidence he cites from Vitruvius, Manilius, and other Roman authors does not
support it. So why do I believe that Algol is the Gorgon's head? Because every
third day you can see Perseus cutting it off. It disappears as he stuffs it into the
kibisis. This also explains why there are three Gorgon sisters, but only one of
them is mortal. The two immortal sisters (Stheno and Euryale) represent the
t w o days during which Algol remains a bright, second-magnitude star. The
third day belongs to the mortal sister, Medusa, because on that day the bright-
ness o f the star dies. There might even be a connection here with the helmet
of invisibility, since the star becomes invisible.
There is more. Recall that I pointed out how the Gorgons and the Graiae
were doublets. Both were sets of triplet sisters born of the same parents, and
both were nemeses o f Perseus. I suggested that the Graiae were holdovers
from a parallel version of the myth in which they were the major threat Perseus
had to overcome. That parallel version, I hold, can also be explained in terms
of the stars. In this case Algol is an eye. It is the eye that is held in common by
the three Graiae and is passed back and forth from one to another. Every third
day, when it passes by Perseus, he steals it, and the light goes out (recall how
the ode of Pindar says he "darkened the Phorcides"). Algol lies at the end of
the arm of Perseus. He is always depicted carrying the head o f Medusa with
this arm, but he could as well be using it to decapitate Medusa or to steal the
eye of the Graiae.
What about Perseus's other arm—in particular, the peculiarity with his
right hand? As I've noted above, this hand is represented by two nebulous and
dim clusters. If you were to look at the stars in the sky in this area, you proba-
bly would not be tempted to draw an arm in there. So why is the arm of Perseus
in such an unlikely place?
Around the beginning o f August every year, the brightest meteor shower of
the year occurs in the constellation of Perseus. It is called, appropriately, the
Perseid meteor shower. This is the best time of year to see meteors, and, be-
ing late summer/early fall, it is usually a comfortable time to be outdoors as
well. If you set up a chair and look in the direction of Perseus, you can be as-
sured of seeing several meteors per h o u r — u p to about thirty to forty per hour
at the peak—some o f them quite impressive. The "shooting stars" rain down
like a shower o f gold. 6
The radiant of the meteor shower—the point in the sky from which the me-
teors appear to be coming—is not merely in the vicinity of Perseus; it is, pre-
cisely, at the end of his right arm. The radiant actually moves through the sky
over the course of time. W h e n the shower is near its peak, the radiant exactly
coincides with the double cluster. This cannot be coincidence. Perseus's arm is
there because shooting stars seem to come from there. And what is he doing?
He is hurling into Lake Tritonis the eye and tooth of the Graiae.
I can actually carry this somewhat further. It has always struck me as bizarre
that Perseus's arm was represented by such a dim set of stars. All our evi-
dence—even going back to fragments of Hipparchus, indicates that the Greeks
 Camelopirdah» » CaHiopew

Y'# Am 17 • s
12 #
7 Double Cluster * ^

« »
D
• ' — «

• *
Perseus •
• •
• S

• Algol

100 " T 1 r -

90 Perseids

80

V 70
L
X 60
3
i
50
-5
c
40
N

30

U I II
20

10

0
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
I f 8 3 August

6.5 (top) Motion of the Radiant of the Perseid meteorite shower with time. The radiant is the
position in the sky from which the meteorites appear to be coming. This position is not the same
from night to night. Note that the radiant passes directly through the Double Cluster, the dim and
nebulous collection of stars that are designated as the hand of Perseus in Ptolemy's catalog. Drawing
reproduced from Meteors (1993) by Neil Bone, by permission of Sky Publishing Corporation.

6.6 (bottom) Frequency of meteorite observations during a Perseid meteorite shower. The Perseid
shower is the most spectacular of the meteorite showers, and the frequency of meteorites peak in
early August, when the constellation Perseus is most prominent in the early evening sky. The
frequency is greatest witJtitt a week or two of the radiant passing through the Double Cluster.;
Drawing reproduced from Meteors ( 1993) by Neil Bone, by permission of Sky Publishing
Corporation.
 Mira and Algol 127

held that his arm was up there, at the source of the Perseids. But let's say you
are an ancient Greek, making up the constellations. You don't have Bayer's or
al-Sufi s drawings superimposed on the chart o f the stars to tell you which is
which. You don't have the star tables of Claudius Ptolemy to guide you. All you
have are a bunch of stars forming a pattern on the sky You can try this your-
self—go out into the open at night and look up into the sky where Perseus is
(there are plenty of guidebooks to help you find it). If, as they always say at the
planétariums, you are in an urban area (where most of the US. population
lives), you won't be able to see all the stars. That's just as well, if you could see
all the stars you would be receiving too much information, and it would be
hard to pick out the patterns. Look up in such an urban setting and you can
easily pick out the reversed question-mark-plus-triangle that make up Leo the
Lion, or the J-plus-T that make up Scorpio the Scorpion, and it should imme-
diately be obvious why those star-shapes have been identified with those ani-
mals. You can see the mouth and mane of Leo in that reversed question mark,
see the curled tail of the scorpion with its stinger in the tail of the J. And it cer-
tainly helps to only have the brightest stars visible.
So look out in the sky, or draw out the stars from a star chart, being sure to
retain only the brightest stars—those of fourth magnitude or higher. You'll find
that you have a very crude stick figure. The body of Perseus is roughly a
straight line. C o m i n g off to the side by Algol is a curving line, obviously his
right hand. From Ptolemy's time onward (at least), this hand has been shown
carrying the Medusa's head, but in m y interpretation it is reaching out to cut
off the head or to steal the eye of the Graiae. 7
And on the other side—well, Ptolemy and his followers all call that Perseus's
thigh. But this line is exactly the same size and height as the one that makes up
his right arm, and it's placed far too high to be a thigh. To the unprejudiced eye,
it has to be Perseus's left arm. And it ends in a tight little curve of stars—Mu
Persei and Lambda Persei and Perseus 48. Perseus's other arm thus ends in his
curved sword.
This is the reason Perseus is depicted with a curved harpe—not because it
evokes the memory of the moon goddess or because it is the Eastern weapon
of Marduk or because it is the peasant weapon of a peasant hero. Perseus orig-
inally carried a curved sword because his constellation is quite obviously car-
rying a curved sword. It was only later, when the recurring nature of the
Perseid meteorites came to be known and incorporated into the myth in vari-
ous ways, that the arm was moved much higher up. Hipparchus and pseudo-
Eratosthenes could then argue about whether there were any actual stars in
the arm of Perseus. Even though it was inappropriate, the thigh had to be
pulled up to take over the office of those stars that were originally the left arm
of Perseus.
Finally, my claim that Algol represents all the Gorgons and all the Graiae
can be validated in an unusual way. T h e three Graiae and the three Gorgons
were all the daughters of the same parents—Phorkys, the Old Man of the Sea,
and Ketos, the sea monster. Ketos in Latin is Cetus, which is also represented
by a constellation, the central star of which, Omicron Ceti, is better known as
 128 The Solution

\ P E R S E U S

6.7 The Constellation of Perseus. This drawing indicates the stars that are fourth magnitude or
brighter. These are the stars that can be seen from a modern suburban setting on a clear night. Î
suggest that the figure of Perseus was originally defined by the stick-figure seen here. One arm
held the head of Medusa (or the eye of the Graiae), the star Algol The other hand held a curved
sword, the harpe, clearly seen as an arc of stars. I maintain that when the Double Cluster was
defined as the Hand of Perseus (so that Perseus could be seen as hurling the Eye into Lake Tritonis
in the form of the Perseid meteorites) the "arm" had to be reinterpreted as the Thigh of Perseus.
Thereafter al Sufi and Bayer Algol were always drawn as the eye of Medusa. Illustration by Hillary
Mitchell

Mira. The first two variable stars to have been discovered historically were
Algol and Mira. Both are relatively bright stars that are easily seen by the naked
eye and whose variations are also easily seen by the naked eye. If it were not a
deliberate act, then it is surely a truly fantastic coincidence that the constella-
tion containing the first variable star to be discovered represents the mother of
the figure or figures represented by the second variable star to be discovered.
I have just begun. There are a great many more curious circumstances to
bolster my interpretation. T h e next chapter is devoted to these.
 rbe suRRounoinç SKY

f have wondered, reflecting that the story of Perseus

and Andromeda is not known to Greek literature
before Herodotus 7.150, whether the hero's association
with the heroine may not even have been created to
explain their contiguity in the skies.
—G. P. Goold,
in the introduction to his translation
of the Astronomien of Manilius

THE Astronomica is ONE OF THE poetical works R. H. Allen referred to as a

source for a name for Algol—the Gorgonis Ora I mentioned in the last chapter. 1
In Book i, line 359, of this first-century poem, Manilius simply says that Perseus
held up the face of the Gorgon to kill the Sea Monster (Cetus, although
Manilius doesn't name her). R. H. Allen notwithstanding, Manilius does not,
in fact, try to identify any star or cluster of stars with the Gorgon's face.
The citation in Goold's introduction is from the only surviving work of
Herodotus, The Histories, in which the first historian tells a story current in his
time about a messenger sent from Xerxes to the men of Argos. This messen-
ger supposedly bore word that the Argives and the Persians ought not to fight
with each other, because the Persians were the descendants of Perses, the son
of Perseus and Andromeda. The story makes no mention of the fabulous fight
with the sea monster, and Herodotus soberly reports it as a true history.
It's not likely, however, that any part of this story is true. The Persians cer-
tainly didn't believe themselves to be the descendants of the Greeks. The very
name Xerxes is a Greek attempt to force the Persian name Kshayarsha into some-
thing a little less foreign-sounding. The supposed derivation of Persians from
Perses is an attempt to forge an eponomy on a par with the biblical derivation
of Ammonites from an ancestor named Ben Ammi. The Persians must have been
as responsive to this explanation of their name as Native Americans are to be-
ing called Indians.
Nevertheless, the story illustrates that in Herodotus's day the story of
Perseus and Andromeda was at least partially believed. Herodotus wrote
around 446 B.C.E., so his account, brief as it is, is the earliest one w e have of
Perseus and Andromeda. Recall that this part of the story is missing from the

129
 130 The Solution

existing fragments of Pherekydes. (The story of the rescue of Andromeda

from the sea monster existed then, as well: recall the Corinthian black-figure
amphora from the previous century)
At about the same time that Herodotus wrote his Histories, Sophocles com-
posed his play Andromeda and Euripides his own trilogy based on the myth.
These two playwrights held that Perseus, Andromeda, Cepheus, and Cassio-
peia were set among the stars by the gods. The plays themselves have been lost,
but we know from the works of pseudo-Eratosthenes that the characters por-
trayed in them were supposed to have been translated to the sky, where they
became the constellations. Thus we know that by the fifth century B.C.E. the
Greeks definitely did associate the constellations with characters from the
myth of Perseus and the Gorgon.
The constellations of Perseus, Cepheus, Cassiopeia, and Andromeda are all
located very close together in the sky, along with Pegasus. The constellation of
Cetus is also relatively nearby, separated from the others by the zodiac. The
constellations span the sky from near the pole almost to the celestial equator,
and all are visible early in the evening in the late summer and early fall. This is
the same time that the Perseid meteor showers are at their height, so it was
perhaps inevitable that the spectacle of the meteors should be well known and
would be associated with the myth.
Goold suggests that the story of Perseus and Andromeda might not have
evolved simply to explain their constellations' being next to each other in the
sky. I believe that he is right, but that he does not go far enough. I believe that
the properties of the constellations dictated the form of the myth and deter-
mined which constellations were to be associated with each other.
Constellations are the products of physical forces, probability, and human
imagination. The laws of physics govern the creation of stars, which fall into
spatial relations with one another according to the rules of probability. Stars
may have an average density in space, but that doesn't mean that they are
evenly distributed. Throw a handful of pennies into the air and observe the way
they fall They won't form an even spread on your floor. Instead, they will
clump together in some places, with bare spaces in between. A. D. Moore, pro-
fessor of electrical engineering at the University of Michigan, liked to demon-
strate this behavior using a bottle filled with little green and red balls, which he
shook up. Instead of settling into an even pattern of red among green, the balls
would form little islands of red in a sea of green, and vice versa. In a few places
the colors were distributed in about even numbers. Moore called it his "non-
pareil mosaic." When he showed it to his students, many of them thought
there was something behind that clumping, some electrostatic force that drew
all the balls of one color together in a region. But it was only the inexorable
law of statistics, which dictated that clumps must occur as well as regions of
equal dispersal.
So it is with stars. In places they seem to be evenly scattered across the sky,
but inevitably there are places where they bunch close together, forming ap-
parent patterns. Here human imagination takes over, resolving those clumps
into meaningful shapes, which we call the constellations.
 The Surrounding Sky 131

There is a second layer to this idea of clumping. Some groups contain spe-
cial stars, like our variables Algol and Mira. One might naively think that these
should be evenly scattered across the sky But the same rules of probability de-
cree that we will have clusters of constellations that all contain the same kinds
of special stars. In such cases, I maintain, the constellations themselves are
linked together by the human imagination and spun into myths.
I have already mentioned that Algol and Mira are both in constellations as-
sociated with the same myth. Algol is, I suggest, the head of the Gorgon and
the eye of the Graiae, while Mira appears in the constellation of Cetus, the
mother of both the Gorgons and the Graiae. The preceding chapter noted
many other associations. For one thing, Cetus (Ketos) is also the name of the
sea monster from whom Perseus rescues Andromeda. Cetus thus has two en-
tirely different associations with the myth of Perseus—first as mother of the
Graiae and the Gorgons, then as a monster that Perseus himself kills.
Referring to the year-long variation of Mira, Julius D. W. Staal writes that
"ancient people believed this pulsating action to represent the beating heart of
the monster Cetus." Plausible as this statement may be, Staal is entirely out of
bounds in making it. No ancient text says this, or anything like it. It would be
wonderful if one did, as that would constitute proof of ancient knowledge of
variability Yet Staal's assertion is very attractive. Mira is in just the right posi-
tion to be the heart of the sea monster. It is red like blood, and its regular os-
cillation in brightness echoes the pumping of a heart. The likely association of
this striking, very visible variable star with the equally striking and visible vari-
able star Algol through three different lines of myth—Cetus as mother of the
Gorgons, Cetus as mother of the Graiae, and Cetus as the monster defeated by
Perseus—seems to me highly probable. Note that, to associate the constella-
tions of Perseus and Cetus, the ancient people would have had to "cross over"
Taurus and Aries, neither of which appears in the myth at all. That suggests a
deep compulsion to draw Cetus into the fold, because all the other constella-
tions associated with the myth of Perseus are contiguous,
We're not yet finished. Recall the last major variable star discovered by the
deaf astronomer John Goodricke: delta Cephei, which gave its name to the
class of Cepheid variables. The possessive Cephei means that this star is in
the constellation of Cepheus, the father of Andromeda. Goodricke used a tele-
scope to observe the star, but the variation is easily visible to the naked eye. It
ranges between magnitudes of 3.6 and 4.3, with a period of 5 days, 8 hours, and
48 minutes.
And what about the queen, Cassiopeia? There she sits on her throne, look-
ing like a giant " W " The most obvious star in the constellation is gamma
Cassiopeia, in the very center of the "W f " occupying a prominent place in an
obvious pattern. It is certainly a phenomenal coincidence that this most con-
spicuous star is a variable star as well—a fact that wasn't known to modern sci-
ence until after 1910. Up to that point, astronomers thought gamma Cassiopeia
had a constant magnitude of about 2.25.2 Then the brightness began to in-
crease, continuing until 1937, when it began to decrease. It leveled off in 1938 at
about 2.5, where it remained for two years before declining further to a mag-
 132 The Solution

nitude o f 3. Then, once more, it rose slowly, to 2.5 by 1954. For obvious reasons,
Gamma Cassiopeia is called an irregular variable star. Nobody knows why it
behaves as it does. The variations, though, are quite large ones for a star that is
already very bright. The only reason they are not more obvious is their lack of
periodicity and the long period of time over which the changes occur. But if
you were looking for this star, you would notice it easily enough without a tele-
scope.
Rho Persei, situated not far from Algol, is also a variable star. Its period is
also irregular, and its brightness ranges in magnitude from 3.2 to 4.1. Lettvin
thinks it is the other eye of the Gorgon, but 1 have to wonder if it might be the
tooth of the Graiae, taking Algol to be the eye.
There are no variable stars in the constellation Andromeda that can be seen
with the naked eye. But there are thirteen naked-eye variable stars in the sky
visible from the latitude of Greece. Six of them appear in constellations asso-
ciated with the myth of Perseus. The only apparent bonds among these con-
stellations are their location in the same area of the sky and the fact that they
all contain variable stars. All, with the exception of Cetus, are in contiguous
constellations, but the spectacular nature of Mira would encourage anyone to
give it a little slack and pull it in with the others, even though it's a little farther
away Other naked-eye variable stars are in constellations too far away to be
considered part of the pack—Eta Aquilae, Chi Cygni, and Betelgeuse (in Orion)
are just too distant. Lambda Tauri is close enough, but its variation is only half
a magnitude—0.5—and this may have kept it out of the club.
To reiterate, by chance a group of constellations that are close to-
gether—Perseus, Cepheus, Cassiopeia, Pegasus, and Cetus—all have variable
stars that can be seen by the naked eye. T w o of these are spectacularly visible
and were the first to be discovered historically. In addition, the spectacular
Perseid meteor shower (whose peak in activity occurs when the constellation
is most prominent in the evening sky) draws even more attention to this re-
gion. Under the circumstances, it would not be at all surprising that an ancient
civilization would link these constellations together in a common myth. I have
no direct proof that this was the case, but I offer up the fact that the constella-
tions do have this common bond as evidence that the ancient Greeks were
aware of that bond. Their association of Perseus, Cetus (in multiple senses),
Cepheus, Cassiopeia, and Pegasus in a common myth suggests they knew that
the constellations named for these characters all contained naked-eye variable
stars.
I can make an even stronger case. If we assume that the two variable stars
in Perseus are associated with his nemeses and not with Perseus himself, and
if we except Pegasus, then all the constellations containing variable stars rep-
resent antagonists of Perseus. Perseus fought the Gorgons and the Graiae. He
defeated Ketos/Cetus, the sea monster. Cepheus and Cassiopeia turned
against Perseus, siding with Phineus. That, too, seems an odd coincidence. I
maintain that it was a deliberate addition, one that fits in well with the idea that
the variable star was somehow malevolent, perhaps associated with the evil
eye. Note that Andromeda, w h o did not turn against Perseus, also does not
 The Surrounding Sky 133

A <•
< /
•i j

/ X \ X

i /

7.1 The Perseid Constellations. Only the brightest stars are indicated, and constellations not associ-
ated with the myth of Perseus (such as Aries, the Ram), are omitted. The size of the dot indicating
each star indicates the magnitude (brightness) of the star. Variable stars whose variation is observ-
able by the naked eye are indicated by circled dots. Illustration by Hillary Mitchell

contain a variable star Again, I have n o direct proof of this theory, but I would
argue that it is highly improbable all these circumstances occurred purely by
chance.
There are some very interesting parallels to the myth of Perseus and the sea
monster. Earlier 1 devoted an entire chapter to the artistic parallels; here I re-
fer to parallel myths—stories in which another hero seems to walk the same
path as Perseus.
One such hero is Hercules. Interestingly enough, Hercules was the grand-
son of Perseus. This is why it seems odd that Ovid has Perseus turn the giant
Atlas, w h o supports the sky, into the mountain Atlas by showing him the
Gorgon's head. Hercules is supposed to have briefly taken Atlas's place during
the course of one of his Twelve Labors. (According to the story, Hercules con-
vinced Atlas to fetch the Golden Apples of the Hesperides by agreeing to hold
up the sky for Atlas in the meantime. Atlas performed the task but, having
found someone else stupid enough to have taken on the task, was unwilling to
resume his burden again. Hercules agreed to continue supporting the sky, but
he asked Atlas to take it back for just a moment while he got a pad to cushion
his shoulders. Adas agreed—thus proving himself even stupider—and
Hercules ran off with the apples.) This he could not have done if Atlas had al-
ready been petrified into mountain form. But as I've pointed out, Ovid never
let consistency get in the way of a good story
 134 The Solution

One o f the less well-known myths of Hercules involved Hesione, the

princess of Troy, daughter of King Laomedon. Poseidon and Apollo agreed to
build the walls of Troy in exchange for all the cattle born in the kingdom that
year. After they were finished, however, Laomedon refused to pay their price.
In retaliation Poseidon sent a sea monster named Ketos against the city.
Laomedon learned from the oracle o f Zeus A m m o n that Troy would be spared
if the princess Hesione were chained to a rock as a sacrifice to Ketos.
Hercules came upon the naked, chained princess much as Perseus had dis-
covered the naked, jeweled, chained Andromeda. Like Perseus, he went to the
king and offered to save the princess from Ketos in return for a gift—in
Hercules's case, the magical horses Laomedon had received from Zeus.
Hercules received help from the goddess Athena and freed Hesione, then
leaped into the mouth of Ketos, killing the monster from within and emerg-
ing three days later from the belly of the beast. But Laomedon reneged on this
deal, too, as he had with the gods and as Cepheus had with Perseus. And so,
like Perseus, Hercules waged war against the king. This major war against Troy
took place a generation before the more famous Trojan War.
These parallels are astonishingly close, but if we consider another myth of
Hercules the similarities become truly awesome. According to Apollodorus,
when Hercules was fighting the Lacedaemonians he begged the king of a
nearby city for help. The king wavered, worrying about the security of his
o w n Tegea if he took his army and left the city undefended. But again Athena
came to Hercules's aid. She gave him a bronze jar containing the hair of the
Gorgon (!). Hercules gave this jar to Sterope, the daughter of the king, and told
her that if she held up the jar in front of a hostile army—provided she did not
look before her—the army would be put to flight. This is eerily similar to the
way Perseus defeated his enemies in Seriphos and, according to some, in
Ethiopia—by holding up part of the Gorgon to the enemy's sight while avert-
ing his own gaze.
And the name of the king? Cepheus!
To this I add that Hercules is one of the few heroes besides Perseus to use
the curved harpe sword. He used it to defeat the Lernean hydra. It would not
be unusual to depict him holding the sickle-sword. In fact, one of the few il-
lustrations we have of this legend, an Attic black-figure cup from Taranto,
shows Hercules grasping the tongue of Ketos with one hand and slashing with
a harpe held in his other hand.
The similarities between the story of Perseus and Andromeda and that of
Hercules and Hesione are so very close and so obvious that many mythologists
have insisted they must come from a common root. Robert Graves thought this
a misinterpretation of his imagined artwork, of course. Others see the myth of
the defeat of the sea monster as derived from the Mesopotamian myth of
Tiamat and Marduk; they imagine that the story of the fight with the monster
ultimately evolved into the myth of St. George and the dragon. I am, of course,
skeptical of such theories and think that the common root is the series of con-
stellations. I can identify the figure o f Perseus and his harpe with that of
Hercules and his harpe. Cepheus is Laomedon (and maybe Cepheus again),
 The Surrounding Sky 135

7.2 The Perseid Constellations interpreted as the characters in the myth of Hercules and Hesione.
Mythologists have long believed that this myth and that of Perseus and Andromeda were inspired
by the same original, possibly the same art work. Note that the sea monster is called Keto in both
myths, and that the king is arguably Kepheos (Cepheus) in both versions as well. Illustration by
Hillary Mitchell.

Andromeda is Hesione, Ketos is Ketos, and Pegasus is the magical horse of Zeus
that Hercules demanded as a prize. The red heart of Cetus represents the slay-
ing of Ketos from within. Perhaps the three-day period that Hercules spent in
the monster's belly is associated with the three-day period of Algol's variation.
Pegasus appears in the myth of Perseus when the winged horse springs
from the neck of Medusa. In this same myth, the tyrant Polydektes wants
horses brought to his party as wedding gifts. Hercules wants horses as the price
of saving Hesione. There seems to have been a concerted effort to bring horses
into the myths that can be associated with the constellations in this part of the
sky. Perhaps this is because the horse was already there. Pegasus apparently is
one of the constellations that the Greeks carried over from the older Babylo-
nian tradition. W h e n the myths of Perseus and, I believe, of Hercules and
Hesione grew up around the variable-star constellations, it was necessary to in-
corporate the horse into the story somehow, even if the coupling was some-
what forced. Perhaps this is the explanation for the horse-bodied Hippogorgon
on the Boeotian vase in the Louvre and for the few Hippogorgon gems. It
seems a much more direct connection than the association of Medusa as the
consort of Poseidon, w h o was sometime portrayed as a horse.
Mention of Pegasus brings to mind the other great myth in which the horse
Pegasus plays so great a part—the story o f Bellerophon. This is another very
 136 The Solution

old myth. Parts of it appear in Homer, and references to it abound in the Odes
of Pindar and elsewhere. Like the myth of Perseus, it is recounted in its en-
tirety by Apollodorus.
Bellerophon was the grandson of Sisyphus (he of the rock), a resident of
Corinth. It was said that he killed someone named Bellerus, whence his name
(.Bellerophontes = "killer of Belleros"), but that explanation seems forced and is
not universal. It could be that Graves is correct in deriving the name instead
from Beleephoron, meaning "dart thrower/' the appropriateness of which will
soon be evident.
Whether he killed Bellerus or not, Bellerophon was responsible for the
death of his brother, Deliades. He was forced to flee his native Corinth and take
refuge at the court of King Proetus of Tiryns (the uncle of Perseus, you will
recall). There Queen Stheneboea fell in love with him and made advances to-
ward him. Bellerophon refused her, and in retaliation Stheneboea accused him
of trying to rape her (just as the wife of Potiphar accused Joseph of doing in
the Book of Genesis). Proetus naturally believed his wife, but he could not act
against someone w h o m he had taken under his protection.
In order to punish Bellerophon, then, Proetus sent him to the court of Lycia,
where Iobates, father of Stheneboea, ruled. He gave Bellerophon a sealed let-
ter to be presented to Iobates. Upon reading the letter, Iobates decided to get
rid of Bellerophon by giving him an impossible task, as Polydektes had with
Perseus. He sent him to kill the Chimera.
The Chimera was, like Cerberus and the multiheaded Hydra, the offspring
of Echidna and Typhon; as Iobates explained, the king of Caria had made it his
o w n pet. The Chimera had the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail
of a serpent. Representations usually show it with a goat's head in the middle
of its body (the name Chimera means "she-goat"), a serpent's head formed
out of the tail, and a body more like a lion's than a goat s. According to legend,
it had fiery breath and was thus very dangerous to approach.
Bellerophon realized that he had a serious problem, and he went to the seer
Polyeidus, w h o advised him to catch and tame the flying horse Pegasus. This
he did with the aid of Athena, who gave Bellerophon a magic golden bridle.
Pictures of the battle between Bellerophon and the Chimera have been popu-
lar since the seventh century, with good reason. It is a spectacular scene. Flying
on the winged steed as Perseus flew on his sandals, Bellerophon came upon the
monster from above and peppered it with arrows. Finally he shoved a lump of
lead down its throat. The Chimera's breath melted the lead, which poured
down its throat and killed the beast.
After this Iobates again tried to kill Bellerophon by sending him against the
pirates of Caria, but Bellerophon defeated the pirates as well. Convinced now
that Bellerophon had the aid of the gods—and therefore might be inno-
cent—Iobates revealed the contents of the letter to Bellerophon and asked for
his side of the story. He then begged Bellerophon's forgiveness and gave him
his daughter Philonoe in marriage.
Nevertheless, Bellerophon came to a bad end. On Pegasus's back, he tried
to fly to Olympus, something a mortal was not allowed to do. Zeus sent a gad-
 The Surrounding Sky 137

fly to sting Pegasus, and Bellerophon was thrown to earth, where he fell onto
a thorn bush. For the rest of his life he wandered the earth, lame, blind, and
alone. Pegasus became the bearer of Zeus's lightning bolts.
The parallels with the Perseus myth are less exact here than they are in the
story of Hercules and Hesione, but they are still striking. The hero is sent to do
battle with a seemingly invincible monster by a king w h o hopes the encounter
will result in the hero's death. The hero receives magical gifts from Athena that
enable him to fly and to overcome the monster. At the end, the hero defeats the
monster, fights a band o f men, and wins the princess in marriage.
It's not hard to picture these figures as the constellations—substituting
Bellerophon for Perseus, Stheneboea for Cassiopeia, Iobates or Proetus for
Cepheus, Philinoe for Andromeda, and, of course, the Chimera for Cetus. The
Perseid meteorite shower, emanating from the hand of the figure of Bellero-
phon, could represent the darts that he throws at the Chimera (and that give
him his name). The glowing red star Mira represents the chunk of lead that has
been shoved into the mouth of the Chimera. For about half the year, when
Mira is dim, the lead is still solid. But then it begins to melt, and the molten
block of lead turns red, killing the Chimera. The constellation of Aries lies be-
tween Perseus and Cetus, and this may have something to do with the naming
o f the Chimera and the goat's head that the monster bears in its middle. Finally,
the fall of Bellerophon to earth might also have been inspired by the Perseid
meteor shower.
Curiously, there's no place in this scheme for Algol. If my scenario is cor-
rect, one would expect Algol to show up somewhere. Perhaps it is the stinging
gadfly that stings Pegasus.
How can all three myths be represented by the same constellations? There
already is a constellation of Hercules elsewhere in the sky. H o w can I propose
that the constellation of Perseus might also be viewed as Hercules?

7.3 Bellerophon attacking the Chimaera. A terra-cotta relief once used as a decoration on a chest or
other object. Mid-fourth century B.C.E. © The British Museum.
 138 The Solution

\ >
STHENEBOIA
/
V

SELLE BOP M
OM •« • /
•"* / \ KASANDRA
/ ©Aigo. \ \

\ \

' ' . f^fcic

Q" Mira

/ c i

7.4 The Persäd Constellations interpreted as characters in the myth of Bellerophon and the
Chimaera. Bellerophon attacked the Chimaera by throwing darts (his name may mean "dart
thrower"), which may be the Perseids. He killed the Chimaera by shoving a lump of lead into its
throat, which its fiery breath turned red and melted, killing it. I suggest this is the brightening of
the star Mira. Illustration by Hillary Mitchell.

All three heroes are Argive heroes and are related in different ways. But each
is associated primarily with a different major city. Perseus is from Argos and ul-
timately becomes king of that city Only later does he change places and be-
come king of Tiryns. Hercules is associated with Tiryns from the beginning
(naturally enough, as a descendant of Perseus, w h o had ruled the city), while
Bellerophon is from Corinth. This suggests that what w e have here is the same
story with slight modifications to match the city where it was originally told.
In Corinth the tale was of Bellerophon, and the stars were seen to represent
him. In Tiryns it was Hercules w h o was seen in the stars, and in Argos it was
Perseus. Each story was too good to stay at home, however, and in time each
spread abroad and developed a distinct identity, despite the close similarity
among them. Storytellers like Apollodorus and those he drew upon would be
tempted to stress the differences rather than the similarities, the better to differ-
entiate the stories.
There is one more myth of Pegasus, and I believe that the constellations can
throw some light upon this one as well. The warrior with the golden sword,
Chrysaor, and the flying horse, Pegasus, were both children of Medusa. They
were said to have sprung from her neck after Perseus decapitated her. Artists
w h o tried to depict the moment, however, inevitably produced a very bizarre
and unsatisfying representation.
 The Surrounding Sky 139

iX^.ct T^• /
y-i - »

7 \ v - U . t -

\
\'*//
M
- -v->
'H

7-5 (top), 7.6 (bottom) Perseus escapes with the head of Medusa in his kibisis, sheltered by
Athena's cloak Pegasus and Chrysaor are bornfromthe neck of Medusa, and one of the other
Gorgons threatens Perseus. Drawingfrom an illustration on a red-figure amphora, now in Munich.
Drawing reproducedfromArthur B. Cook's Zeus: A Study in Ancient Religion by permission of
Cambridge University Press.

W h y should the two have been born from her neck? Theories that they were
somehow the result of the Gorgon's fecund blood aren't really much help.
Serpents were said to have bred from the blood of the Gorgon's neck that fell
upon the sands of Libya. If just the blood was responsible, w h y couldn't Chry-
saor and Pegasus be born the same way?
But what if the artists have always misinterpreted the meaning of "born
from the G o r g o n s neck?" Invariably, they show the pair erupting from the
stump of the neck attached to the body, or lying near the dying carcass of
Medusa. According to the Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes (and other
sources), the Libyan serpents were born from drops of Medusan blood that fell
into the desert sands as Perseus flew homeward with his trophy. This blood
dripped from the parat of the neck that was still attached to the head. W h y
 140 The Solution

7 7 The Perseid Constellations interpreted as the Myth of the Birth of Pegasus and Chrysaor.
I suggest that both are born not from the stump that is attached to the body, but from the part of the
neck still attached to the head. As in our earlierfigures,Algol is the head of Medusa. The figure of
a warrior with the curved sword springs away to one side—Chrysaor—while the flying horse—
Pegasus—springs away to the other side. Illustration by Hillary Mitchell.

shouldn't Chrysaor and Pegasus also have been born from the head of Medusa,
rather than from her body?
Try visualizing the constellations once again. Ignore everything but the con-
stellations of Perseus and Pegasus. The variable star Algol represents the head
of the Gorgon. To the east lies the body o f a warrior with a curved sword in
his hand. To the west lies Pegasus. The identifications of the stars given by
Ptolemy indicate that both are facing away from the Gorgon's head. It thus ap-
pears that both the warrior with the sword and the flying horse are springing
from the head of Medusa.
This, I think, must be a very early interpretation of the constellation, inde-
pendent of the myth of Perseus. It became enshrined in the canon of Greek
myth at an early period and was recorded by Hesiod in his Theogeny. W h e n
Apollodorus found this scrap, he worked it into the myth of Perseus as best he
could, just as he retained the myth of the Gorgon in Hades from The Odyssey
and worked it into Hercules's visit to the underworld. Vase painters and cameo
cutters also tried to work this bit of Hesiod into the story of Perseus, with
mixed success.
I said earlier that the Chinese term for Algol—Tse Chie, meaning "the
heaped-up corpses"—could be explained in terms of the behavior of the stars
as well. To begin with, we have to look at the star patterns that the Chinese
saw. These are very different from the ones seen by the Greeks. Surprisingly,
the term "constellations" is applied only to those Western patterns first fully
reported by Ptolemy and to the ones added to star charts since the Renaissance.
The patterns recognized by other cultures are called "asterisms." The upper
body of Perseus and his thigh (what I called the hand holding the harpe) forms
"the celestial boat", T'ien-Tchouen, for the Chinese. Lambda Persei is Tsi-Choui
("the swollen waters"), the line of stars adjacent to Algol is Ta-Ling ("the great
trench"), and Algol is Tsi Chi ("the heaped-up corpses").
 The Surrounding Sky 141

As Julius D. W. Staal noted, the asterisms in this area of the sky—which was
most visible in the early evening in August and September—are named after
objects or events prominent at that time of year. This was the time of the great
floods, when a river might overflow its banks—thus, the swollen waters. Dams
might burst and dikes be washed away, and so boats were made ready at this
season. It was also the season for mass executions, when criminals from the
previous year were killed and the corpses piled up (Algol). They were then cast
into a wide pit (the great trench) for a common burial, a dishonorable fate.
I propose that the evil-sounding phrase "the heaped-up corpses" means sim-
ply that the corpses referred to were, every third day, cast into the great trench.
Like Medusas head, which was thrust into the kibisis out of sight, the corpses
are cast into the trench, where they, too, disappear. Like the eye of the Graiae,
they are picked up, and perhaps in the August-September Perseid meteor
shower we actually see them being tossed down. A grim story, perhaps, but a
vivid star-show.
We are often told that the stars in the night sky were the poor man's theater
of the ancient world, that lacking other diversions, the common people as well
as the priests watched the skies. At a time when most of the population was il-
literate, when the bright illumination provided by candles was costly, when the
diversions of prayer and gambling and sex and conversation were played out,
the stars were still there. Even a weary laborer must on occasion have looked
up at the skies and tried to make sense out of the passing show, endlessly re-
peated year after year. 1 can easily imagine a storyteller making use of this vast
natural visual display, timing his stories so that, in the course of an evening s
telling, the bright star that was the Gorgon's head or the eye of the Graiae had
dimmed by the time he called attention to it again. There it goes now, streak-
ing into Lake Tritonis! Or perhaps his Chinese counterpart was gleefully point-
ing out how the bodies of the criminals of heaven had disappeared from the
place where they had been piled up, and were now streaking down toward the
trench that awaited them.
Such knowledge indicates long observation. The period of Algol is actually
about three hours and fifteen minutes short of being three full days, so every
third day it winks out a little earlier in the night. After at most three observable
disappearances separated by three daytime periods, the next obscuration will
be invisible, since it will occur during the daytime. It took Goodricke, Pigott,
and Palitzsch weeks to observe and verify the actual period, and they knew
what they were looking for. The eleven-month cycle of Mira obviously requires
a year to observe, and the periodicity would not be obvious until several such
cycles had been completed. The variation of Gamma Cassiopeia is measured
in decades. Such careful observation over extended periods of time is certainly
possible, especially for people with fewer distractions after dark than we have
today, and who have a vested interest in the sky as a practical calendar.3
Let me recap what I have suggested in the last two chapters:

• The ancient people knew of the naked-eye variable stars Algol, Mira, Delta
Cephei, Gamma Cassiopeia, and perhaps Rho Persei. Because of this, they as-
 142 The Solution

sociate all the constellations containing these into a single myth, even though
they have to "cross" the constellation of Aries in order to bring Cetus into the
myth. T h e constellations containing variable stars are almost ail antagonists of
the central figure,
• In Argos, the hero is Perseus, in Tiryns it is Hercules; both bear curved blade
harpe swords, as the constellation originally had. In Corinth, the hero is
Bellerophon. In later times the sword arm of Perseus was moved from the
curved swathe of the harpe to the nebulous double cluster in order to take ad-
vantage of the Perseid meteorite shower, which thus seems to emanate from
his hand.
• The variation of Algol every third day is seen as Perseus cutting off the head
of Medusa and placing it in his kibisis. An alternative version has him inter-
cepting the eye of the Graiae. The Perseid meteorite shower, which occurs
when the constellation is most visible, represents Perseus hurling the eye into
Lake Tritonis.
• The Gorgons are three in number, two immortal and one mortal, because of
the three-day period of Algols variation. The two immortal Gorgons are the
two days during which Algol remains bright. T h e third, mortal sister repre-
sents the third day, on which the star winks out. Similarly, there are three
Graiae because the eye remains bright as it is passed from the first to the sec-
ond and from the second to the third on the first two days. W h e n it passes from
the third back to the first on the third day, Perseus is there to intercept it.
• Further evidence of the knowledge of variable stars comes from the fact that
both sets of triplet monster sisters (represented by Algol) are the daughters of
Cetus/Ketos, whose nearby constellation also has a very noticeable variable
star in it.
• T h e red variable star Mira probably does represent the beating heart of Ketos,
w h o m both Hercules and Perseus kill. They are usually represented doing so
with their swords, and perhaps the blood-red color of Mira also represents the
bleeding of their victims. Perhaps this is why Perseus does not use the
Gorgon's head to petrify Ketos. T h e earliest picture w e have of him with Ketos
shows that he has the kibisis, but not until very late does he use it against the
sea monster. In the myth of Bellerophon, the reddening of Mira represents the
molten lump o f lead that is forced down the chimera s throat, killing the beast.
• The horse, Pegasus, was already in that part of the sky as a constellation des-
ignated by the Babylonians. It had to be worked into the story somehow. So
Perseus has to provide a gift o f horses, and so there is evidence in both ancient
art and literature that the artists were trying to put Perseus aboard Pegasus. As
it is, the myth of the birth of Pegasus from Medusa's neck serves to link the
two. Hercules demands a gift of horses for rescuing Hesione, and Bellerophon
rides Pegasus,
• The odd birth of Chrysaor and Pegasus from the neck of Medusa is explicable
in terms of the constellations. Chrysaor, the warrior with the golden sword, is
represented by the figure usually taken as Perseus, with his prominent curved
sword, leaping to the east of Algol. Pegasus, the winged horse, leaps away to
the west from Algol, which represents the head of Medusa.

If m y suppositions are correct, the constellations and variable stars explain

m u c h about the m y t h s o f Perseus and Medusa, as well as A n d r o m e d a ,
Hesione, and Bellerophon and the C h i m e r a . But still this theory does not ex-
 The Surrounding Sky 143

plain everything. I do not believe, though, that it has to. As 1 have said, myths
are the product of many inputs, and they continue to evolve through time. In
particular, nothing in the stars explains the odd appearance of the Gorgon it-
self. (In fact, since I claim that Algol could stand in for the Graiae as well as
Medusa, I could hardly claim that the stars did dictate the form of the Gorgon.)
So where did the Gorgon's appearance originate?
Before I answer that question, I want to address two others; W h y does the
face of the Gorgon appear on shields? And why does it appear on ante fixes? I
believe these questions are essential to understanding why the figure of the
Gorgon is so widespread, and w h y it is so powerful. There is nothing capricious
about these appearances—they were deliberately chosen for a good purpose.
The fact that parallels to the Gorgon filled the same offices elsewhere in the
world proves that point, and in searching for the answer to why so many peo-
ple used it in precisely the same w a y I believe we will be led to the ultimate ex-
planation of the Gorgon.
 8
is •che face on The shielo

well-fashioned everywhere. A shining rim

he gave it, triple-ply, and hungfrom this
a silver shoulder strap. Five welded layers
composed the body of the shield. The maker
used all his art adorning this expanse.
He pictured on it earth, heaven, and sea,
unwearied sun, moon waxing, ail the stars
that heaven bears for garland: Pleiades,
Hyadês, Orion in his might,
the Great Bear, too, that some have called the Wain,
pivoting there, attentive to Orion,
and unbathed ever in the Ocean stream.
—The Iliad,
Book 18, lines 483-489

THUS DOES H O M E R D E S C R I B E T H E N E W shield that Hephaestus makes for

Achilles, to replace the one that was lost when Achilles let his protégé Patroclus
bear his arms and armor against the Trojans. After killing the young warrior,
Hector stripped him and took Achilles's armor for himself. The new shield is
described in great and loving detail. It provides justification for bringing up
other stories as asides, and it recalls the long-gone days when each piece of ar-
mament was a lovingly wrought w o r k of art. T h e fragment called "The Shield
of Hercules" was undoubtedly written in imitation of this passage from The
Iliad, in which the lines quoted above are only the introduction to a much
longer description. 1
T h e story of Perseus abounds in shields. First, there is the shield of Perseus,
which he uses to view the head o f Medusa as a reflection rather than looking
at her directly T h e n there is the aegis of Athena, which has been pictured both
as shield and breastplate. The story says that Perseus gave the goddess the head
of Medusa to place upon her aegis, and paintings and statues show Athena with
Gorgon heads on both shield and breastplate—often at the same time.

145
8.r Archaic Contithian hydria (water
vessel) depicting the Nereids mourning
the death of Achilles. His shieldt xt5
surface completely filled with the
Gorgoneion, the face of the Gorgon, lies
at the base of his bed. The shield with the
Gorgoneion is usually the attribute of
either Athena or of Achilles, but not
invariably so. Courtesy of the Musée du
Louvre, Paris. Photograph by M. and P.
Chuzeville.

8,2 Archaic cup from l&conia depict-

ing Adtiües lying in wait for Troilus.
He is identified by his Gorgon shield
(there are other interpretations of this
scene, I note, in which the warrior is
not Achilles). Courtesy of the Musée
du Louvre, Paris. Photograph by M.
and P. Chuzeville.

8.3 Achilles battling Memnon. A

redfigureAttic Kalyx Krater, dat-
ing from 490 to 480 B.C.E. The
Gorgoneion on Achilles' shield is
less prominent here. Courtesy
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston,
Catharine Page Perkins Fund.
 8-4 Hephaestus making the armorfor
Schill« as Thetù looks on. This drawing is
from an Atttc red-figure vase from Nola.
Courtesv of the Mitseum of Fine Arts,
Boston, Francis Bartlett Fund.

8.5 The birth of Athena from the forehead of Zeus, who is recognizable because of his thunderbolt.
Athena emerges fully armored. Ares stands to the right, holding a shield with a Gorgoneion filling
it. This is interesting because Athena is just being born and therefore cannot be responsible for the
Gorgon head being on the shield, regardless of whether it gets there by Perseus's actions or her own.
Perhaps this is another example of events telescoped in time appearing on a single figure, as with
the images of Medusa holding Pegasus and Chrysaor we saw in Chapter 3 (even though she has not
been decapitated yet). The Gorgon shield, so associated with Athena, might be thought important
enough to be present at her birth, despite the problems it presentedforcommons ense chronology.
Photograph Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Henry Lillie Pierce Fund.

8.6 Achilles receiving arms from the Nereids,

including a shield with an atypical Gorgoneion.
A black-figure Attic vase. Courtesy of the Museum
of Fine Arts, Boston,]. A. Rodocanachi. See also
figure S.20.

147
 148 The Solution

Recall also that the brothers Acrisius and Proetus, the grandfather and
grandunclc of Perseus, fought each other for the kingdom of Argos, and it was
in the course of their bitter struggle that the shield was invented, according to
Apollodorus. Other sources, however, report that Abas, the father of Acrisius
and Proetus, was a warrior of such renown that he could frighten his enemies
merely by displaying his shield, indicating that such a thing already existed.
Regardless, the family of Perseus seems to have been associated with
shields. Was this perhaps because of Perseus's role in placing the face of the
Gorgon on one? If so, perhaps the fact of the face's getting on the shield was
more important than how it got there. There is a tradition, reported in
Euripides's play Ion, that Athena herself slew the Gorgon (who is not there
identified as one of three sisters, nor is she associated with any of the rest of
the Perseus myth) and placed its head on her shield. (This may have influenced
our myth-novelist friend, Dionysius Skytobrachion, w h o said that she slew a
giant named Pallas and made a cloak of his skin, accounting for her being called
Pallas Athena.) Yet another tradition holds that Zeus himself slew a creature
to make the aegis.
These other traditions give different explanations for how the head of the
Gorgon came to grace the shield and/or the aegis of Athena. I submit that
there are actually two such traditions contained within the myth of Perseus as
we have it from Apollodorus. One explanation is the obvious one—that
Perseus gave the head to Athena, w h o then placed it on her shield. The other
is indebted to the late tradition that Perseus avoided the petrifying glance of
Medusa by looking at her reflection in the mirror of his shield. W h y use the
shield instead of some other mirror? Why would looking in the shield preserve
him from being turned into stone? I suspect that the real reason may be that
when Perseus looked at the head of Medusa in the shield and struck off her
head, its reflection was trapped in the shield—trapped as surely as the shadow
of Peter Pan was by Wendy Darling.
Regardless of whether my theory is true, clearly the bare fact of the Gor-
g o n s head on the shield had to be accounted for, as the several different myths
of Kirtimukkha in India tried to explain that evil head over the doorway. The
existence of the head on the shield in Greece is every bit as real as the head over
the doorway in India. Few shields from Bronze Age Greece have survived, but
we have many representations o f them on vases and in sculpture. Some of
these are meant to depict the shield of Athena (or her aegis) or that of Achilles,
but many more are not. The red-figure vases of Greece abound in pictures of
shields filled with the staring, grimacing, tongue-protruding Gorgon face.
The painted shields look very two-dimensional, as if the faces had been sim-
ply painted over the originals. By contrast, when the figure is carved in stone
the Gorgon face appears to be carved on the shield itself. We have plenty of ex-
amples of such. So, in the ancient world, were the faces of the Gorgons painted
on the shields or carved or beaten into them? The answer is, probably both, de-
pending on the nature of the shield itself Some were made of w o o d or of hide,
while others were of bronze, often backed by other materials. A plain hide or
 8.7 Shield with mask of the
Jaguar God. Detail of Stela I El
Caribe. Post-Classical Maya.
Compare with Greek shie/ds bear-
ing Gorgoneia. Photograph repro-
duced from Cecelia E Klein's The
Faces of the Earth (1976) by per-
mission of Garland Publications.

8.8 (left) A shield decorated with a very Gorgon-like face. Compare

with figure 8.9. This wooden shield was made by the Iatmul of the
Sepik River region of Papua New Guinea in the nineteenth and twen-
tieth century. It is typical of their shields. Note the face with excep-
tionally large eyes, broad nose, wide mouth, and protruding tongue.
Photograph courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Michael
C. Rockefeller Memorial Collection, gift of Nelson A. Rockefeller, 1969.

8.9 (right) A terra-cotta relief from a tomb

depicting Achilles with a shield. The entire front
of the shield is taken up with a Gorgoneion of the
archaic type, also done tn relief. Achilles is identi-
fied not only by the shield, but by his name in the
upper right. To the left can barely be made out the
Amazon Ainai, also labeled. This terra-cotta is
said to comefromKerameikos, Athens. Photograph
courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
Samuel D. Lee Fund, 1942•
 150 The Solution

wooden shield would be more likely to feature painted decoration, a metal one
would more likely have the face in relief
But why is the face there at all? As I've pointed out, the staring face appears
not only on Greek shields, but also on shields from the Sepik River region of
New Guinea. Similar Gorgon-faced shields were found among the Mayans,
who also had faces on their breastplates, aegis-style. Shields from Jaina Island
look eerily like the Greek shields, their circular portion being completely filled
with a gritted-toothed, staring, protruding-tongued face. I don't mean here to
suggest any sort o f diffusion—the appearances of the Gorgonlike shields are
far too widely separated in space and in time. But I believe that the similarity
of appearance indicates a similarity of intent—Greeks, Mayans, and Sepik
River people all put those faces on their shields for the same reason. This begs
the question—what was that reason?
The staring face with its scowl and protruding tongue pretty obviously sug-
gest a taunt to most people. It's one of the most obvious and natural ways of
"making a face." For many people, that explanation would be more than
sufficient. W h o hasn't seen a fighter taunting his opponent with words or ges-
tures, hoping that the other will make a rash move? This could indeed be the
reason for the faces on the shields, but I suspect the real reason lies somewhat
deeper. If taunting were the object, then why aren't there also obscene shield
devices? W h y not erect phalluses or hands with the middle finger extended?
W h y not the lesser gesture of the hand fingering the nose?
Could it be that the face on the shield is there simply as an apotropaic de-
vice, intended to frighten away evil influences? If the Gorgon face placed over
an oven was supposed to ward off evil spirits, why not put it on a shield to ward
off evil blows or the demons of bad luck? Again, this may have been the intent
of some w h o put the Gorgon on their shields. And again, I think the real rea-
son is more complex. If warding off evil were the intent, we would expect to
find other apotropaic devices on shields, perhaps the "horned hand"—a hand
with the index and smallest finger extended, while the others are curled to-
gether in the ancient sign to ward off evil.
To understand why the Gorgon's face was placed on shields, we must take
a detour, much like our trip through the stars. In this case we visit the realm of
psychology Around the year 1900 C.E., such researchers as Landolt and
Helmholtz were examining the way the human eye scanned objects. (Hans
Heinrich Landolt was a physical chemist whose research into refractive index
carried him into optics and vision research. Hermann von Hemholtz was an
extraordinary individual whose program of research was very broad. He is
probably best known today for his work in acoustics and electrodynamic the-
ory, but he was a major figure in physiological optics, inventing the ophthal-
moscope and compiling the seminal Handbook of Physiological Optics.)
One might think that the eye simply sweeps across objects within its view,
taking in all the details at a glance. It turns out, however, that things are a great
deal more complex than that. In 1891 Landolt investigated the behavior o f the
eye during such sweeping motions by having volunteers move their glances
through a thirty-degree arc of vision. He placed a magnesium lamp in the cen-
 The Face on the Shield 151

ter of the arc, providing a concentrated bright source. This light left an after-
image similar to the one produced by a photographic flash. It functioned as a
sort of living photograph that the subjects could still see and examine for sev-
eral seconds after completing the sweeping motion. Lo and behold, the shape
traced out by this afterimage was not a simple and uniform curve—rather, it
was interrupted by "knots" of light. Landolt concluded that the eye did not
make clean sweeps of its visual field, but instead made short hops, remaining
stationary between the hops. This phenomenon, called saccadic motion, became
the subject of intense study.
At first the study of eye motion was restricted to clever experiments in
which the subject was as much of an experimenter as the designer. Flashing
light sources were used to time the motion of the eye, and the observer sim-
ply counted the number of afterimages that could be observed across a sweep.
Later studies attempted to dissociate the subject from the experiment by hav-
ing the experimenter himself observe the eye as it moved.
In 1901 Raymond Dodge and Thomas Cline of Wesleyan University put the
scientific study of eye motions on a quantitative basis by photographing the
motion of the eye. From that time on, investigators strove for greater resolu-
tion and accuracy in plotting the motion of a persons gaze.
Some of these experiments are painful even to read about. Both researchers
and subjects must have been solidly dedicated to the search for truth. In 1914J.
O h m recorded motions by attaching a lever to the subject's eyelid and con-
junctiva. Others affixed contact lens-like "cups" over the eye, coupling the mo-
tion out with a lever or using a tiny attached mirror to reflect a beam of light
that traced the motion. Yet another method involved attaching a flake of white
medium or a tiny mirror to the cornea and photographically following its mo-
tion. T h e subject's eye was anaesthetized with cocaine derivatives in these stud-
ies, but still the experience could not have been pleasant. Despite all the pain
and effort, the resolution obtained by these methods was not very good.
A better approach was to photographically record the reflection o f a light
source from the cornea of the eye; this method didn't require that anything be
attached to the eye itself and was relatively unobtrusive. In 1973 T. N. Corn-
sweet and H. D. Crane of Acuity Systems and Stanford University introduced
the Double Purkinje Image method of tracking, in which the virtual images
created by reflection from the cornea and the one formed by reflection from
the rear surface of the cornea are used to very accurately locate the eye's posi-
tion.
Various other methods have since been added to the arsenal: reflections
from other parts of the eye, measurement of electrical potentials, observation
of the retina. One interesting system uses external magnets to measure the po-
sition of fine wire loops embedded in scleral contact lenses. Today it is very
easy to measure the position of the gaze to within V2 degree, and with the more
advanced methods one can do far better. 2
The earliest studies were concerned simply with h o w the eyes move and
h o w gaze shifts. Later studies tried to track eye motion during reading. But the
most interesting results were those from researchers investigating h o w the eye
 152 The Solution

moved to take in aspects of a picture. G. T. Buswell did some early studies of

this in the 1930s, using the relatively crude equipment available then. By the
1960s more refined apparatus allowed for much better measurements. Proba-
bly the most widely cited work is that of Alfred L. Yarbus of the Institute for
Problems of Information Transmission at the Academy of Sciences in Moscow.
His book Eye Movements and Vision (1967) features traces of eye movements by
various subjects studying several scenes. These traces are most interesting
when they are viewed side-by-side with the original scene or, better still, are
superimposed on the scene.
One figure shows the face of a girl from the Volga region, along with the
tracings of three minutes' worth of free gazing by a test subject. The result is
something that looks like a crude sketch of a face. One rough, light trace indi-
cates the outline of the head, showing that the subject scanned the face. But
the bulk of the viewer's time was spent studying the mouth, nose, and espe-
cially the eyes. The eyes are by far the darkest portion of the trace, showing
that the gaze returned to the eyes again and again. A dark and heavy bar be-
tween the eyes shows that the subject's gaze shifted back and forth frequently
between the right and left eyes. The next darkest trace is around the mouth,
and the two eyes and the mouth are joined by an equilateral triangle of gaze
tracks, showing that the viewer's gaze was concentrated on that small portion
of the face.
Yarbus himself notes this:

In the movements of the eye we have no analogy with the movements of the
hand of a blind person, tracing the outlines and contours. . . , The human eyes
and lips (and the eyes and mouth of an animal) are the most mobile and expres-
sive elements of the f a c e . . . . It is therefore absolutely natural and understand-
able that the eyes and lips attract the attention more than any other part of the
human face.5

Regardless of the reason, it is abundantly clear from Yarbus's photographs

that the gaze is magnetically drawn to these two features of the face. In an-
other figure, showing a one-minute gaze at the face of a girl, the tracing
sketches the edges of the face but is concentrated for the greatest amount of
time on the two eyes. In a third, a subject spends two minutes gazing at the
bust of Nefertiti in profile; the gaze outlines the figure but lingers longest at
the eyes and ear.
Even nonhuman faces, Yarbus notes, attract the gaze in the same way. The
picture of a two-minute examination of a drawing of a lion's head reveals that
the muzzle is traced and the ear explored, but again the darkest points, show-
ing the areas examined most closely, are the eyes. A study of a gaze at the statue
of a gorilla similarly indicates the strong attention paid to the eyes.
More important, 1 think, are the photographs showing the gaze of subjects
looking at the picture The Unexpected Visitor. This picture, a reproduction of a
painting by 1. E. Repin, shows a man who has just been allowed into a cham-
ber. A woman, who had been sitting, rises to meet him. Even when observers
were given this painting to look at without any prior explanation or instruc-
8.io (left), 8. H (right) Photograph of a girl "of the Volga, " along with the trace of the movement
of the gaze over a three-minute period. The gaze returns frequently to the eyes, and slightly less fre-
quently to the mouth, both key-features on the Gorgonäon. Photograph from Eye Movements and
Vision by Alfred L. Yarbus. Reprinted by permission of Plenum Press.

8.12 (left), 8,13 (right) Photograph of the face of a girl and the same photograph overlaid with
the motion of an observer's gaze in studying the photograph. The observer was allowed to look at
the photograph for one minute and his eye motions monitored using one of the techniques discussed
in the text. Notice how, although the gaze sweeps over the face, it returns much morefrequentlyto
the eyes than to any other feature. Notice also how the motion is not smooth. The small "knots "
represent the saccadic motion referred to in the text. Photograph from Eye Movements and
Vision by Alfred L. Yarbus. Reproduced by permission of Plenum Press.
 €1

8,14 (left), 8.15 (right) Photograph of a bust of Nefertiti, seen in profile, along with the record of
a two minute gaze. Hven in profile, the gaze returns to the eyes and to the mouth (as well as to the
eye-like ear). Photograph from Eye Movements and Vision by Alfred L. Yarbus. Reprinted by
permission of Plenum Press.

8.16 (left), 8.17 (right) Sketch of a Hon's head byV.A. Vatagin and a record of a two-minute gaze
studying the sketch. The observer's gaze is drawn repeatedly to the eyes and the mouth even when
the subject is not human. Photograph from Eye Movements and Vision by Alfred L. Yarbus.
Reprinted by permission of Plenum Press.

154
8.i8 f. E. RepimVs painting The Unexpected Visitor, along with the records of the gaze of
seven test subjects in studying the picture. Note than in all cases the attention is drawn to the faces
in the picture far mere strongly than anything else. One's attention is irresistably drawn to the face
in any depiction, and within the face one is drawn to the eyes in particular. Photograph from Eye
Movements and Vision by Alfred £. Yarbus. Reprinted by permission of Plenum Press.

155
 156 The Solution

tion, their gaze was strongly drawn to the faces of the people in it. Darker by
far than any other areas in the picture are the faces, with dark bars joining them
wherethe viewers' gazes shifted back and forth from face to face, occasionally
flitting down the bodies of the people but always returning to the heads.
Now, let's return to the shield and consider its purpose. It serves a useful
physical function as a deflector of weapons. But its value can be greatly in-
creased if it can also be used to distract an opponent. The face of the Gorgon
is the staring face par excellence. It has large and striking eyes—larger in pro-
portion to the other features than in a real human face, with larger pupils. The
mouth, too, is more dramatic than a human mouth, with its many teeth, its
fangs, and its protruding tongue. The Gorgon face commands attention, and,
as sculpted or painted on the shield, it is much larger than a human face. It is
inevitable that the attackers attention should be diverted to the face on the
shield. This is not a criticism of the attacker, or a measure o f his stupidity or
his lack of skill. As the Yarbus pictures show us, the gaze of a viewer is in-
eluctably drawn to a face.
But the deck is stacked in favor o f the Gorgon face on the shield. With its
great size, its huge eyes and large pupils, its threatening countenance, its active
mouth, it exerts a particularly strong claim on the attention of the attacker. If
it succeeds in distracting a portion of his attention, if only for a short time, then
it has done its job. It has given that much of an edge to the possessor of such
a shield, whose attention is not distracted in turn by his enemy's shield. This
affords him some small advantage in parrying a blow or exploiting an opening.
What proof can I offer that this is the intended function of the Gorgon on
the shield? Consider the other shield devices we know from Greek art. I have
seen a great many examples of spiral patterns, in which the shield is completely
covered with arcs radiating from the center, dividing it into curved sectors that
are then painted in highly contrasting black and white. The effect is almost hyp-
notic, drawing the eye toward the center of the shield. Remember that the
shield device need not hold the attacker's gaze for long—just long enough to
be a distraction. The spiral shields certainly do this. In other examples, a single
eye occupies the center of the shield, or attractive feminine legs. None of these
designs is convincing as an apotropaic device or a protective mechanism. But
all are singularly effective distractions.
A Gorgon on a shield appears in a work by Dioskourides, a third-century
B.C.E. epigrammist from Alexandria. It is mentioned in the Palatine Anthology
(6.126) and tells of the Cretan warrior Hyllos dedicating a shield with a Gorgon
face, surrounded by three legs:

T h e G o r g o n that turns m e n t o stone and eke the triple knees

He bade t h e m paint: you'll find them there, saying to all they m e e t
" L o o k not t h o u d o w n on m e , m y foe; that l o o k o f thine will freeze." 4

1 have seen it argued that a warrior does not want to have a shield that draws
attention, the idea being that a single such flamboyant shield among a number
of nondescript shields will attract the attention of several attackers, resulting
in the probable death of the bearer. This is, I think, the wrong way of looking
8.19 (left) Two warriors. An Attic black-figure Amphora circa 530 B.C.E. Again, the shield contain
an eye-catching spiral design, Photograph Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Henry
Lillie Pierce Fund.
8.20 (right) Six warriors with shields. This is the opposite side of the vase in figure S.6. Even
though the shields do not have Gorgoneia or spirals, they still have striking, simple designs.
Photograph courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, J. M. Rodocanachi.

8.21 (top), 8.22 (bottom)

Drawings of the picture on an
Attico-Ionian Amphora from
Caepo in Etruria, now in the
Louvre. Note the eye-catching
spiral design on the shield of
Zeus. This could serve the same
distracting purpose as the eyes of
the Gorgon. Illustration from
A. B. Cook's Zeus: A Study in
Ancient Religion. Reproduced
with the permission of
Cambridge University Press.
 158 The Solution

8.23 Warrior departing from home. A red-figure Stamnos Vase, circa 430 B.C.E. There is one eye,
or possibly a pair of eyes, in the center of the shield. Even without the rest of the face, this would
arrest the observer's attention. Object in the Museen Antiken Xîdnfettnst, Munich. Photograph
courtesy Hirmer Fotoarchiv, Hirmer Verlag.

at the situation. If all shields have such devices, then no one individual stands
out. Yet in single combat the shield can function very effectively as an atten-
tion-grabbing device.
Consider, too, the shield of Hercules, as described in the poetic fragment of
that name. Its surface abounds in staring figures:

In the center was Fear (Phobos) worked in

adamant, unspeakable, staring backwards with
eyes that glowed with fire. His mouth was full
of teeth in a white row, fearful and daunting.

Fate was there . . . and terribly she glared and

gnashed her teeth.

And there were heads of snakes unspeakably

frightful, twelve of them; and they used to
frighten the tribes of men . . . for they would
clash their teeth.

Also there were upon the shield droves of

boars and lions who glared at each other,
being furious and eager .. . the fierce boars and
the bright-eyed lions.

And on the shield stood . . . deadly Ares the

spoil-winner himself... . Beside him stood Fear (Phobos)
and Flight.
 The Face on the Shield 159

And upon the awful heads of the Gorgons great

Fear (Phobos) was quaking.

And behind them were the dusky Fates, gnashing

their white fangs, lowering, grim, bloody,
and unapproachable. . .. By them stood Darkness of
Death. .. . She stood leering hideously,5

It will be recalled that I (and several others) have suggested that Phobos was
another interpretation of the face that is now called the Gorgon. I suggest as
well that some of the other horrors of war depicted on the shield—Pursuit,
Flight (brother of Phobos), Tumult, Panic, Slaughter, Strife, Uproar, and
Fate—were also conceived as Gorgonlike, staring heads. Even without these,
though, the shield is awash with staring, menacing faces. 6 The shield of
Achilles in The Iliad also features these characters—Strife, Uproar, and "ghastly
Fate" are all there, amid less threatening scenes.
The face on the breastplate, which many have taken to be the aegis, served
the same purpose. Staring forth from the attacker's chest, the face of the
Gorgon diverted the gaze of the enemy, giving the attacker the slight edge he
would need. Putting the face on both the shield and the breastplate could offer
the warrior thus armed a double advantage. This, I believe, is the true expla-
nation for the face on the aegis—not the remnant of an animal cloak, with its
great, clumsy, lolling head, but a carefully crafted element of distraction.
I do not mean to imply that the ancient Greeks purposely set out to put
Gorgon faces on their shields and breastplates for the purpose of distracting
their opponents. I think that they probably experimented with several shield
devices, from a human desire to decorate things, or perhaps to identify indi-
vidual fighters in battle. But it was found that shields decorated with the
Gorgon face had an almost magical power to protect their bearers. They
seemed slightly luckier in combat. The positive value of the Gorgon face was
recognized, although the reason the image conferred this special advantage
might not have been known. In time, then, its use was attributed to the myth-
ical family most associated with shields, and this most excellent device was nat-
urally applied to the shield and breastplate of the battle goddess Athena.
The N e w Guinea tribes dwelling along the Sepik River found the same
thing—the local Gorgon variant placed on their shields somehow made them
more effective, so it became their standard decoration. The Mayans found that
both the Gorgon shield and the breastplate were effective, just as the Greeks
had, and so they used both.
So, I suggest, the face of the Gorgon on the shield or the breastplate wras ac-
tually a practical device, aiding the bearer for reasons he may not have been
aware o f It requires no great leap of the imagination to see how its use can
have come about, since similar distracting elements were also common shield
devices. Elsewhere in the world, other people noticed the same results, and by
a sort of convergent evolution they, too, developed shields with Gorgon faces.
One thing I have not explained is why the Gorgon face, specifically, ended
up being the one used. We can easily understand the use of a large face, with
 160 The Solution

exaggerated eyes and a scowling mouth. But why the protruding tongue? The
question is important. In principle, one would expect any large, staring face to
work as well—yet there are no other large faces apart from Gorgon faces. And
the parallel shields from New Guinea and Central America also feature Gorgon
faces, complete with the tongue. W h y is this?
T h e reason, I think, is that the Gorgon face was used because it was the best
example of a fearsome staring face. It was, as 1 have said, the staring and threat-
ening face par excellence. This means that it was a preexisting artistic motif
that was adapted for a particular use on shields. So, what was the Gorgon in
the first place? We will answer that after examining another use of the Gorgon
face, and some closely related figures, in the next chapter.
 çoRçons Ant) ÇARÇOYL6S

But apart from this, in the doùters, before the eyes of

the brothers while they read—what is that ridiculous
monstrosity doing, an amazing kind of deformed
beauty and yet a beautiful deformity? What are the
filthy apes doing there? Thefiercelions? The
monstrous centaurs? The creatures, part man and
part beast? The striped tigers? Thefightingsoldiers?
The hunters blowing horns ? You may see many bodies
under one head, and conversely many heads on one
body. On one side the tail of a serpent is seen on a
quadruped, on the other side the head of a quadruped
is on the body of a fish. Over there an animal koi a
horse for thefronthalf and a goat for the back; here a
creature which is horned in front is equine behind. In
short, everywhere so plentiful and astonishing a
variety of contradictory forms is seen that one would
rather read in the marble than in books, and spend the
whole day wondering at every single one of them than
in meditating on the law of God. Good GodJ If one is
not ashamed of the absurdity, why is one not at least
troubled at the expense?
—St. Bernard of Clairvaux,
Apologia, ca. 1125 C.E.

BERNARD'S Apologia, IN PARTICULAR the section that has been designated

"The Things of Greater Importance," has often been cited as an example of a
medieval ascetic condemning the apparently useless and pointless extrava-
gance of gargoyles on cathedrals. 1 In fact, a careful reading of the work shows
that he never mentions gargoyles by name, and that he is probably referring to
carvings on the capitals of columns (since he refers to them as being inside
buildings), and possibly to those depicted in illuminated manuscripts and
wooden carvings. As I will show in due course, medieval gargoyles are thought

161
 162 The Solution

to date from after 1200 C.E. (although gargoyles as such existed far earlier than
that), so it is not likely that Bernard had those architectural elements in mind
when he wrote his invective. Neverthless, his descriptions fit gargoyles very
well, and the saint would almost certainly have used the same words to com-
ment on them.
The question he posed has been asked many times since. What are odd
sculptures doing on the tops of cathedrals? They have been copied on secular
buildings as well, and virtually every major city now has some gargoyles look-
ing down from the heights. What are they? And why are they there?
There have been plenty of attempts to answer these questions. They are
apotropaic monsters, frightening away evil with their own evil faces. Or they
are the sculptors' way of expressing their individuality in the rigidly defined
world of cathedral building. Or they are survivals of pre-Christian pagan wor-
ship, surreptitiously worked into carving on the temples of the new faith so
that they may continue to oversee hallowed ground. Or they are inspired by
fossil bones, dug up and puzzled over by medieval minds. Or they are concrete
expressions of the terrors of the absence of God as described in the Twenty-
second Psalm:

Ravening and roaring lions

open their mouths wide against me.

There's no denying that they look incongruous up there, gaping mouths and
fierce gazes peering out from sacred buildings as if threatening the communi-
cants instead of evil influences. Could these really have been symbols of pagan
worship? Is there a point to symbolizing the loss of God this way? Wouldn't an
artist choose to express artistic individuality by rendering a more beautiful
figure, such as a horse, or geometrical forms, or even a nude?
Clearly there is a similarity between the gargoyles and the Gorgons. Gor-
gons, too, were placed along the outsides of temples and public buildings in
ancient Greece and Rome. Gorgons appear on vases, shields, and coins, but one
of the most common places for them to turn up is along the edges of roofs.
The Gorgon is one o f the most common images to grace antefixes, the terra-
cotta semicircular tiles that line the edge of tile roofs. Many of the largest and
most dramatic Gorgoneia appear 011 antefixes, although this fact is not usually
stressed in art books that picture them. Nor do the illustrations in those books
give a true feeling for the antefixes. A roof would have its entire edge bordered
by these, so that one could see Gorgon face after Gorgon face, side by side for
the length of the building. Gargoyles typically appeared only at intervals along
a roof, but Gorgons defined the entire edging. What was the point of having
all those staring, tongue-lolling faces leering out from the temple? Even if they
were there as apotropaic devices, to frighten off malign forces, wouldn't one or
two have been enough?
I believe that there was a very real purpose behind the face of the Gorgon
on the antefix, one that extended well beyond a need to frighten off vaguely
defined evil influences. A similar purpose lies behind the gargoyles as well, and
the principles are still in use today, although we may not recognize them.
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

Before w e look more closely at this, however, it is important to understand the

subject. We need to explore the history and design of antefixes and of gar-
goyles.
Pliny the Elder ascribes the first use of "masks" on the antefixes of build-
ings to a potter named Butades. This brief, tantalizing reference is all he offers
us. There is no attempt to date Butades or to explain why such faces should
have been put on the tiles. Greek antefixes date back to at least the seventh cen-
tury B . C . E . , and even the earliest ones w e know o f were decorated, rather than
being just blank semicircles of terra-cotta. They came into common use
shortly thereafter, and w e have a great many examples from Sicily, southern
Italy, and the Greek islands—as well as from the Greek mainland—dating from
these early days.
Tile roofs were a great improvement over earlier coverings. They made a
house waterproof and were impervious to fire. Although there were many
variations on the basic shapes, the central idea was the same. Tiles were made
with a U-shaped cross section and were laid down in rows, side by side, with
the higher rows overlapping the lower ones, in the way modern shingles do.
T h e ends of the U faced upward, and if that's all there was to the roof, it would
not adequately protect the house, because water could get down in between
adjacent tiles. The gap between these tiles had to be covered. This was done
with another U-shaped tile, which was placed with its concave side downward,
so that it covered the space between the original two tiles. Water running off
the curved part of this tile would collect in the trough of one of the two adja-
cent tiles and be funneled off the roof. Each row thus consisted of two differ-
ent types o f tiles—one set that rested on the wooden roof with concave faces
up, the second set placed over the joints between these tiles, concave faces
down. The tiles closest to the eaves were laid down first, with successive rows
overlapping the ones beneath, then a row of capping tiles was placed to cover
the ends of the topmost tiles at the peak of the roof. T h e tiling terminated at
the ends of rows with decorative tiles called akroteria.
From the ground, an observer could look up into the spaces formed by the
concave-down tiles. These defined "tunnels" that ran from the edge of the roof
all the way to the peak. To close off these spaces, Greek rooftilers created the
antefix, whose semicircular shape was exactly suited to seal the end of the tun-
nel. In time, more antefixes were added between these useful ones that sealed
the holes, so that they created an unbroken row of semicircular tiles along the

9.1 The three main systems of roofing riles—Laconuin (left), Sicilian (center), and Corinthian
(right). Courtesy of Yale University Press.
 164 The Solution

OL

tamagBBSm

QE4
tï m t * I
9'w llïll •ypjji

1<

9.2 Samptes <J/ antefixes and gutter tiles. Reprinted fiant Greek Architecture, courtesy of Yale
University Press.

entire roof edge. Not only did this look better, but it created a gutter along the
edge of the roof. The drainage ran off through spouts at the corners.
The blank, semicircular antefixes must have looked better than the bare,
dark tunnels of the roof tiles, but they must still have seemed unfinished, be-
cause virtually all the antefixes we have today are decorated with paintings or
reliefs. At first these took the form of somewhat abstract "floral" designs, the
kind that F. T. El worthy thought might be stylized octopodes. Eventually, how-
ever, these were replaced by faces, just as Pliny says Butades used. Many o f the
faces were Gorgons— the complete archaic type with the large, staring eyes,
ringlets of hair, fangs, and protruding tongue. But there were also bacchic
faces, resembling the god Dionysus as he was represented on cups and vases,
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

and the faces of goddesses. These were among the few cases in which gods and
goddesses were, like the Gorgon, presented en face, staring directly out of the
antefix at the viewer. N o antefix seems to display any other sort of scene or
style of portrait—there are no three-quarter views, for example, no reliefs de-
picting battles, or the Trojan Horse, or Oedipus and the Sphinx. W h y this re-
striction of subject matter? W h y only en face deities, Gorgons, and floral pat-
terns?
This solution to the roof problem was not restricted to Greece. There is a
long tradition of antefixes in China and japan as well. The evolution of the
finishing tiles in those places seems to have echoed the development in Greece:
the antefix is created as a means to seal off the unsightly tunnel at the end of a
row of convex roofing tiles. The Chinese and Japanese apparently didn't de-
velop the gutter, as the Greeks did, and they seem to have favored, in addition
to the antefix, a special end tile with a plug on the end. The portion of this tile
that faced the ground was round instead of semicircular, but it still bore a dec-
orative image. Similar plug tiles are the preferred way to terminate a row of
roofing tiles today in the United States, although now the end is left undeco-
rated.
The Chinese, however, adorned both antefixes and plug tiles, as well as akro-
teria (which they also developed). Chinese decorations showed much greater
variety than their Mediterranean models. Some tiles had writing on the ends
(Chinese ideograms), others showed three-lobed yin-yang symbols or flower
blossoms. But a great many bore Gorgonlike faces, as well. Many of these show
a startling resemblance to the Greek Gorgon, right down to the boggle eyes,
fangs, and protruding tongue.
This type of tile roofing doesn't seem to have caught on in India, or any-
where else between Greece and China. It may be a product of diffusion, but I
believe both the mechanical design of the antefixes and the Gorgon figure to
have been cases of convergent evolution. The form of the tiles was the same
in Greece and China because it was dictated by the same physical situation. The
similar subject matter evolved for a different reason. T h e Greek antefix spread
west into Sicily and Italy, then throughout the Roman Empire. The Chinese
antefix spread eastward to Japan.
Before trying to account for the similarity of the Gorgons on Eastern and
Western antefixes, let's look at the history of a related device, the gargoyle. T h e
similarity between the names gargoyle and Gorgon may not be coincidental.
Gargoyle derives from the French word gargouille, which in turn comes from the
Latin gurgulio ('water spout"), which ultimately derives from the word for
"throat." Scholars have traced the word Gorgon back to the Sanskrit garj, mean-
ing a throaty rumble or scream.
T h e standard history of the gargoyle was put together by the architect
Eugène-Emmanuel F. Viollet-le-Duc in the mid-nineteenth century, in two
works written for the Commission des Monument Historiques in Paris. Viollet-
le-Duc based his conclusions on a study of French cathedrals, especially those
o f Paris. There were no gargoyles earlier than 1200 C.E., according to Viollet-le-
Duc. The choir of Paris, dating from the time of Maurice de Sully (ca. 1190),
9 3 (top) Gorgonäon antefix from southern Italy. Courtesy of Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Otis Norcross Fund.
9.4 ( right) Gorgoneion with sphinxes. Terra-cotta antefixfrom southern Italy. Courtesy of the Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston. Purchased by conlritnUion,

9.5 (left) Gorgo)

probably an ant
Terra-cotta, six>
century B.C.E.
Courtesy of the
Arthur M. Sack
Museum, Harvc
University Art
Museums, gift o
Frederick M.
Watkins.

9.6 (above) Antefix in the form of a

satyr's head. Terra-cotta, ca. 470-450
B.C.E. Courtesy of the Arthur M.
Sackler Art Museumt Harvard Art
Museums, bequest of Frederick M.
Watkins.

9.7 (left) Antefix in the form of a Silenus.

Terra cotta, circa 470-450 B.C.E. Courtesy of the
Arthur M. Sadefer Museum, Harvard University
Art Museums, bequest of Frederick M. WafHrts,
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

9.8 Onigawara end tile from Japanese tile roof This example dates from the Edo period, circa i668.
It serves the same purpose as a Greek antefix in closing off the end of a row of tiles. As antefixes
often do, it bears a staring, scowling monstrous face. There does not appear to be a lineal connec-
tion between these oriental antefixes and those of classical Greece and Rome. This suggests that the
resemblance might be a case of "convergent evolution" in architecture—the faces on the end tiles
served the same purpose. I propose that this was not simply a vague apotropaic function, deterring
evil influences, but that the faces served a more direct and practical purpose -scaring away nesting
birds that might have harmed the roof Photograph Courtesy of the Peabody Essex Museum, Salem
Massachusetts.

lacks both gutters and gargoyles. Gutters were added to the structure about
i2io, and the water that collected in these drained off through channels in the
gutter. By 1220 true functional gargoyles first appeared in Laon Cathedral.
These gargoyles were made of two stones—a lower one that had a channel for
the water, while the upper one formed a cover to keep off debris. Some of these
were rudely carved in the form of beasts. Usually there were very few gargoyles
relative to the length of gutter to be drained, so the amount of water passing
through each was large. Within a few years, architects began to multiply the
gargoyles, putting in more and more to decrease the flow volume through
each. They also began to lavish care on the form, and over the next few cen-
turies the art of the gargoyle blossomed. Viollet-le-Duc believed that no two
medieval gargoyles in France were alike.
But Viollet-le-Duc's medieval French gargoyles, although they might ar-
guably represent the best examples of the art, do not represent the whole of
its history Numerous gargoyles predate those of Laon Cathedral, even within
France itself—a gargoyle found in Alesia that has a human head for a spout has
been dated to around 160 CE. The medieval versions probably represent an in-
dependent rediscovery of the utility of gargoyles.
Gargoyles were common in the Greco-Roman world, appearing at Pompeii
among other places. The Parthenon at Athens displays gargoyles in the form
of lions' heads. Similar lion-head gargoyles were found on the temple of Apollo
at Metapontum in Italy and the temple of Hera at Croton. Elsewhere, spouts
took the form of wolves' heads.
 168 The Solution

9.9 (left), 910 (right) Gargoyle (waterspout) in the form of a lion head. Terra-cotta, circa jjo-320
B.C.E. Courtesy of the Arthur M. Sackler Museum, Harvard University Art Museums, bequest of
David M, Robinson.

Astonishingly enough, there were even gargoyles on buildings in the Middle

Kingdom of ancient Egypt. One wouldn't think that they would be needed in
the desert, but it does rain along the Nile, and the buildings there had to be pro-
tected as they did anywhere else. These gargoyles were similar to the ornate
models found in Greece, Italy, and medieval France in function only—they
were not carved into animal forms and lacked even the covering stone Viollet-
le-Duc describes. The U-shaped troughs were probably hollowed out logs that
carried runoff from the roof over the edge of the portico.
Finally, the gargoyles of China resemble those of Europe, taking the form
of open animal mouths. An example from the site o f Yan Xiadu dates from the
third or fourth century B.C.E.
The romance o f the gargoyle has not been lost, and examples abound in the
United States, dating from the nineteenth century on. Gargoyles on buildings
at Princeton University were designed by Gutzon Borglum, the sculptor bet-
ter known for Mount Rushmore and Georgia s Stone Mountain. Some of the
Princeton gargoyles take very modern forms—a lecturing professor and a rush-
ing football player, for example. Classical gargoyles adorn the City College of
N e w York, and art deco gargoyles were placed on skyscrapers in N e w York City.
Not everyone was pleased with these contemporary attempts. "In modern
work the gargoyles rarely appear to be happily joined to the building," wrote
G. R. Redgrave in the Magazine of Art in 1882. "They are either badly placed; or
they are clumsy; or they are too slender, slim and weak in outline, deficient in
character, or wanting in invention. They lack, in fact, the appearance of real-
ity so remarkable in the old work, being frequently impossible and even ridicu-
lous imaginings, without a touch of the quality of style."
On the whole I can't agree with Redgrave. I think there are plenty of strik-
ing gargoyles, many of them functional, to be found on modern buildings. But
there are also many poor examples—sculptures whose shapes are not deter-
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

mined by function, or bastard cases like the gargoyle on the Furness Building
in Philadelphia, which has a drainspout protruding from its jaws. The gargoyle
was supposed to perform the function of a drainspout; instead, it looks like a
dragon undergoing endoscopy.
So what are they for, these great carved spouts? Everyone agrees that they
began their existence as functional items. Look for a building that has neither
gutters nor spouts, on which the rain rolls down to the edge of the roof and
drips straight to the ground. T h e ground around the building is marked by the
force of those trillions of drops. Each one exerts only a small force, but in time
that cumulative force contributes to serious erosion. If the roof 's edge lies
over concrete, you can see where the drops have gradually w o r n away the ce-
ment that binds the concrete together, revealing the bare stones in the mix. In
the ancient world the problem must have been much worse. The accumulated
water would undercut foundations and wear away stones.
Also, if the water were not carried away from the roof by some means, it
could penetrate the walls and run down the interior, weakening the structure,
rotting the wood, and ruining any painting on the walls. Je an-Louis Ceneval
thinks the Egyptians used gargoyles and other water-diverting constructions
to prevent ugly streaks on the wall decorations.
Today, if you want to divert the water from your roof you buy gutters and
downspouts from a hardware store. The obvious way to achieve the same re-
sults in the ancient world was to hollow out a log and place it where it would
lead directly to the gargoyle, and this is precisely what many people think the
ancients did. ' T h r e e simple gargoyles, perhaps round wooden shafts hollowed
out on their upper side, protrude from the entabulature/' says Alexander
Badawy of an Egyptian model of a temple. "Nowhere more clearly than in the
gargoyles of Gothic churches does one perceive that a wooden prototype has
been repeated in stone," wrote Charles de Kay in 1906. "It is plain that a log
bored or channeled lengthwise to form a waterspout has been finished in some
eccentric shape—a chimaera, a harpy, a nondescript beast."
Having redirected the stream of water from the roof to a point some dis-
tance from the building, the ancient Egyptians or medieval Europeans felt no
need to convey it formally to the ground, so they didn't devise a downspout.
Once away from the building the stream could fall free, broken into droplets
that spread their soft, destructive force over a larger area, no longer undercut-
ting the foundation or threatening to run down the inside of the building.
Downspouts are a modern invention.
Like the bare antefixes of the Greek temples, the simple gargoyles of either
w o o d or of stone must have cried out for ornamentation. "But if we could see
the streets of medieval towns exactly as they were before the age of Gothic
Churches," wrote de Kay, "perhaps w e should detect here and there grotesque
animals on the spouts carved of w o o d on such dwellings as ambitious burghers
loved to ornament otherwise with carvings and pictures."
But why the fierce heads of dragonlike monsters? W h y lions? Surely the
choice of these creatures was due to the same impulse that drives the builders
of modern fountains to direct jets of water out of the mouths of animal and
 170 The Solution

fish sculptures—because water does come out of real animals' mouths.

Because, although one could have water spurting from the penis or the anus of
a human male figure, or from the breasts of a female form (and all of these pos-
sibilities have been realized in gargoyles and fountains at one time or another),
to do so is a coarse jest, in very poor taste. It's better to be spit upon by a mon-
ster head than to be pissed o n — o r worse. Surely this reasoning alone explains
everything, doesn't it?
If that were truly the case, then there would be no riddle of the gargoyle.
But through the years, from St. Bernard to Stephen King, people have been ask-
ing why the gargoyles must have such odd, ravening faces. W h y scowling drag-
ons and lions? W h y reptilian forms so at odds with the sacred intent o f the
buildings? There are a few humorous gargoyles, like those at Princeton, or the
coarse, excreting gargoyles mentioned above, but these are far in the minority
W h y demons on the buildings? The same question goes for those antefixes
with the Gorgons—what are these leering faces doing on the outside of pub-
lic and religious buildings? What are they trying to frighten away?
The answer, I believe, is both surprising and mundane. Look closely at the
edge of a Greek or Chinese roof from which the antefixes have been removed.
What's left is a series of regularly spaced tunnels formed by the convex tiles
that seal off the spaces between the base tiles. The tunnels go all the way up to
the peak of the roof. They may be ugly, but that by itself wouldn't dictate that
you cover them up. People have lived with far uglier elements in their archi-
tecture. If something has been deliberately added, it's usually because there is
a functional purpose to the new part, not because it serves an aesthetic need.
The antefixes don't significantly help to make the roof more waterproof. They
might help hold the tiles on, but that's a secondary function. If the weak terra-
cotta antefix had to bear the weight of all the tiles above it, it would fracture in
short order. The antefix was placed on the roof, I think, in order to seal up that
inviting hole against incursions by birds.
Birds seek to nest in protected sites well above ground level and not much
larger than themselves. If they can, they seek out sites protected from the
weather in which to build their nests. The tunnels on tile roofs must have been
perfect. They were about tree-height above the ground, dry by design, roofed
against wind and rain from above. There was no direct access from the ground,
making the birds safe from nest-robbing predators. Even if some enemy should
get onto the roof, it would probably by stymied in its efforts to reach into the
hole between the tiles on an overhanging roof.
The Greeks and the Chinese must have independently discovered that their
tile roofs had become coveted birdhouses, and both must have regretted the
fact. It's not just that the birds created a nuisance, leaving droppings beneath
the roof edge. (Although that, by itself, is reason enough. At the end o f the
twentieth century, entire businesses exist whose sole purpose is to clean up bird
droppings on the roofs of gas stations and other businesses.) The movement
o f the birds going in and out, feeding the young hatchlings and enlarging the
nest, would start to break up the roof from within. I have seen this happen with
asphalt roofing. The problem is a continuing one, as a nest built one year con-
 Gorgons and Gargoyles 17 i

tinues to be used in succeedingyears. And once the tiles crack or separate, dam-
age to the roof begins and can only get worse. The idea is to prevent the birds
from nesting there in the first place, and the obvious solution is to seal up any
inviting openings. Enter the antefix, devised independently in the East and the
West. The Chinese even make special closed-end tiles to completely eliminate
the problem.
But no tile is perfect. Frequently there are gaps between the antefixes and
the lowest tiers of tiles, and birds can force their way in. Cracks can develop in
the tiles that give them an edge. The best thing to do is to keep the birds away
from these places, if you can. It doesn't hurt to keep them off the roof alto-
gether. H o w can that be accomplished?
This problem isn't confined to the ancient world, of course. Eliminating
birds has become a big industry. Bird-X of Chicago sells a variety of instru-
ments, chemicals, netting, and barbed wire to keep birds out of places where
they aren't wanted, T h e company also sells Terror-eyes, an inflatable yellow
balloon with huge red and black eyes on it, designed to scare birds away Pest
Management Supply Company sells Scare Eye balloons for the same purpose.
Flambeau Corporation of Middlefield, Ohio, manufactures decoys of various
sorts, but they also sell plastic Great Horned Owls in t w o different sizes, "for
even more effective pest control." Dalen Products of Knoxville, Tennessee, also
sells such owls. A great many other companies manufacture plastic or ceramic
owls for the same purpose—to scare away birds from fields, courtyards, and
buildings. The owls, with their huge, yellow staring eyes, are effective in keep-
ing pigeons away from popular roosting sites in the angles and on the ledges of
buildings. If modern businesses can sell these staring-eye constructions for the
purpose of keeping birds away (and earn a tidy profit while doing so), then why
couldn't ancient terra-cotta manufacturers have done the same? If we accept
Pliny s account as accurate, then Butades was the first businessman to cash in
on this system for passive bird deterrence. Those masks of Dionysus, god-
desses, and Gorgons all had one thing in c o m m o n — h u g e , striking, staring eyes.
Nor is that all. Consider the floral patterns that preceded the masks. A close
look reveals that these, too, had the appearance of a face with eyes. Most of the
"face" is only vaguely indicated, but the constant feature is a pair of curlicues
or circles about where the eyes should be. E. Douglas van Buren, in his classic
volumes Greek Fictile Revetments in the Archaic Period and Archaic Fictile Revet-
ments in Sicily and Magna Graecia, even explicitly calls these features on floral
antefixes 'eyes."
This, then, is the reason for the resemblance between the floral patterns,
noted by F. T. Elworthy, and the Gorgon. T h e octopus is not the common
ground between them—it is their common application as bird-scarers on
antefixes. I suspect that even Butades and the earliest potters did not truly un-
derstand the significance o f these faces and eyes—they only knew that those
designs seemed to work. I view the resemblance of the floral patterns to faces
as a case of evolution into useful form. Over time, it was found that when cer-
tain patterns were used on the antefixes, the roof tiles would last longer for
some reason, and that the most successful of these were the ones that looked
 172 The Solution

more like faces. This reasoning process led to the use of more facelike florals,
then masks, and ultimately Gorgoneia, which was (as Ï said in the last chapter)
the staring face par excellence. T h e same process took place in China, produc-
ing Gorgon faces on the antefixes by the same process.
Similar "staring eye" patterns developed in nature through a process of true
evolution, and for precisely the same purpose—to scare birds. The mantis
Pseudocreobotra wahlbergi has a pair of striking eyespots on its wings, yellow spi-
rals within dark circles, with a dark "pupil" at each center. The eyed hawk moth
(Smerinthus ocellatus) has such eyes on its hind wings. A Cassidid beetle of
British Guyana, Pseudomesomphalia contubernalis, has eyespots on its wing cover
that have been described as "like yellow penetrating orbs each with a black
pupil." The Brazilian butterflies of the genus Caligo have such eyespots on their
hind wings. "Here," says zoologist Hugh B. Cott, "the appearance reaches a
high degree of perfection. . . . N o one w h o has seen the insect, with its won-
derful gleaming ocelli [eye-spots], can fail to be impressed both by their beauty
and by their general deceptive resemblance to the eye of some large vertebrate
such as an owl, and it seems reasonable—in view of analogous instances and
observations—to conclude that the staring eye-spots would be mistaken in the
gloom by insectivorous birds and mammals for something on no account to be
meddled with." Sphinx moths and hornworm caterpillars also have such dis-
play spots that they reveal when threatened.
Recall, besides the Chinese and Japanese antefixes, the other Gorgon paral-
lels. The Japanese Daruma doll is well known as a wishing doll and good-luck
symbol, but it has another use in Japan that is not as well known. Large papier-
mâché Daruma dolls with both eyes prominently filled in are set up in rice
fields to protect the crop from the depredations of birds. There might be a sug-
gestion of an appeal to the supernatural here, but the figures are undisputably
effective scarecrows. It is surely not a coincidence that Daruma's animal em-
blem is the owl.
The Maori carvings that so closely resemble Gorgons, with their mother-of-
pearl eyes and protruding tongues, were placed atop buildings, chiefly store-
houses. Gable paintings featuring huge eyes formed from concentric circles, al-
ternating light and dark, appear on the facades o f men's huts in N e w Guinea
and N e w Zealand. The Kayan of Borneo paint the top of the salong,, or mor-
tuary hut, with a huge face featuring staring eyes. Everyone acknowledges that
all these faces are apotropaic, meant to keep something away I suggest that
among the malign influences the eyes repel are roosting and nesting birds,
which can be as destructive to the roof, house, and its contents as any evil spirit.
Does this really work? Assuming my theory to be correct, does placing a glar-
ing face near a tempting site actually keep birds away? Considering that whole
businesses are based on filling precisely this need, it's surprising how little data
there really is on the topic. Most of the information we do have is anecdotal,
and scientists don't generally like to rely on testimonials of effectiveness—after
all, claims for the virtues of all sorts of quack remedies are a dime a dozen.
Patent medicine bottles from the nineteenth century were covered with such
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

assurances by satisfied customers, but that didn't prove that the products really
worked.
Nevertheless, a trickle of reports in respectable journals offer some hard ev-
idence. E. C. LaFond, writing in Naval Research Reviews, noted that the instal-
lation of commercially available two-faced owls with glass eyes on a Navy elec-
tronics laboratory's research tower near Mission Beach in San Diego was
effective in deterring seagulls. (The owls had faces on both sides—why waste
a perfectly good owl silhouette by leaving it nonthreateningly blank on the
back?) The Navy had considered using noises, electric shocks, repellent paints,
and natural predators to control the birds, but none of these means was
thought to be effective for a frequently unmanned tower. "The owls were left
in place for a period of five weeks, during which time personnel were not con-
tinuously aboard," noted LaFond. "Inspections, made several times a week, re-
vealed no fresh gull litter, so it seemed that the owls had been a success.
However, during the ensuing month, when the owls were removed, the gulls
still did not return. . . . It thus seems clear that imitation owls, along with other
agitations, have succeeded in breaking the apparently ingrained habit of sea-
gulls to seek out the same roosting place. . . . Although perhaps no one factor
broke the seagull obsession with the tower, the imitation owls appear to have
loomed largest." At the time the report was written, the owls appeared to have
kept the gulls away for over a year.
Professor Ronald J. Prokopy of the Entomology Department at the Univer-
sity of Massachusetts at Amherst quantified his study of the effectiveness of
Scare-Eyes™ balloons by studying the changes in bird damage to a fifty-tree
apple orchard. The fruit was a disease-resistant stock but still suffered some at-
tacks by disease, insects, and, most especially, birds. From 1985 to 1987, before
Prokopy began testing, bird damage affected 12.2 percent of the fruit, more
than twice as much as disease and insect damage combined.
In 1988 Prokopy attached a single balloon one yard above the top of the tree
at the center of the orchard. Trees were four yards apart in each row, with the
rows six yards apart. At the end of the season, he found that the incidence of
damage caused by birds to trees within six yards of that center point was only
1.5 percent. Trees within twelve yards had an 11.7 percent injury rate, while the
injury to trees within eighteen yards was 20.6 percent. Clearly the balloon with
owl eyes had a deterrent effect.
During the next two years he placed balloons every twelve yards through-
out the orchard. T h e results were dramatic—a 0.4 percent injury rate in 1989
and 0.9 percent in 1990. He felt that the balloons were most effective against
crows, starlings, bluejays, and possibly blackbirds, but less effective against
robins and orioles.
Another manufacturer produces the similarly named Terror-Eyes balloons.
A flyer distributed by the Bird-X Corporation claims that the Terror-Eyes bal-
loons were developed by the Agricultural Experiment Center of the Tokyo
metropolitan government, but none of their testing results have been made
available, to my knowledge. The flyer indicates that the balloons have been
 174 The Solution

used effectively by wineries in France, an agricultural research center in Britain,

a military base in Switzerland, and a Frito-Lay plant in Cucamonga, California.
It must be acknowledged that motion certainly helps the eyed balloons to
repel birds. Prokopy admitted that the movement of his balloons in the air cur-
rents helped keep birds away from his fruit trees, and that this is why he had to
suspend them above the treetops. The eyes on Terror-Eyes balloons are aided
by lenticular arrays—the same technology used to give the illusion of motion
to pictures on plastic novelties, C D cases, and videotape containers—which
make the balloons seem to be moving even when they aren't. And, in a partic-
ularly damaging blow to the idea that the eyes alone can frighten birds away,
researcher Michael J. Conover actually found that crops of tomatoes watched
over by his large-eyed owl figures were protected when the figures were moved
by motors or wind wheels, but were actually more heavily devastated by birds
than a control patch when they were not!
Nevertheless, evidence from the Navy study, the Japanese Daruma figures,
and the manufacturers o f fixed ceramic and plastic owls would seem to argue
that even a stationary figure of a predator can have a deterrent effect. Under
these circumstances, 1 am surprised that the classic American scarecrow has
never acquired large, staring eyes, instead continuing to rely mainly on its re-
semblance to a human figure to deter crows. As has been observed, scarecrows
frequently don't.
Surely the reader has guessed my suggestion about gargoyles by this time.
Gargoyles are essentially the drainspouts of the gutters of Egyptian, Greek,
Roman, and medieval buildings. Drains don't work very well if they are
blocked by bird's nests, so the spouts were incorporated in the form of the
mouths of large eyed, glaring animal heads. Most writings about gargoyles
have centered on their generally outré appearance, and there has been little
comment on the eyes. Many gargoyles have fanged and snarling mouths. Why
should they look so fierce, if not for some good reason? The gargoyles of
Greece and Rome didn't look like the reptilian horrors o f France, but they were
equally threatening wolf and lion heads, always with prominent eyes.
The architectural elements visible below the Great D o m e at MIT, above
its columns, were clearly inspired by classical Greek models, right down to the
animal-head gargoyles. There are no bird droppings beneath them.
In two recent media productions, gargoyles are closely associated with
birds: the Disney adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame shows birds nest-
ing in the open mouth of a gargoyle, while a recent liquor ad shows a closed-
mouth gargoyle with feathers protruding between its lips. Both sets of illus-
trators, I think, came closer to the truth than they knew. Birds don't just nest
in any old place. They are very selective in their choices of habitat. A prospec-
tive nesting site must be the right size, the right distance from the ground, and
the right distance from other nests. If my theory about antefixes and gargoyles
being defenses against nesting birds is correct, then, we ought to be able to
identify which birds we are defending against. The spaces covered by antefixes
are a few inches in diameter and some tens of feet above the ground, and there
are many of them in relatively close proximity. The mouths of gargoyles pos-
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

sess the same features although, depending upon the location, they may be
much higher above the ground.
One pretty obvious candidate for tenancy is the c o m m o n pigeon (Columba
livia). Pigeons live in close proximity to humans, as everyone w h o has walked
through a public park knows. They nest on the ledges of a building and among
its ornamentation (evidently a variation on their original habit of roosting on
rock ledges), in spite o f a current half-joke that n o one has ever seen a baby pi-
geon. If there were one bird that w e would try to dissuade from nesting on our
buildings, it would be these pests. Pigeons have little fear o f people, and the
droppings in the vicinity of their roosts are plentiful. Pigeons like relatively
open ledges or places with holes about eight inches in diameter. Their nests can
range from as little as ten feet above the ground to several storeys up.
Another obvious choice is the starling (Sturnws vulgaris). Starlings have a rep-
utation as dirty birds. They have no objection to roosting in large communi-
ties, and they can be a noisy lot. There were no starlings in the Americas until
they were artificially introduced in the nineteenth century. Having no natural
predators, they quickly spread and became pests. There is no reason to think
that they were any more beloved in their native Europe.
Tile roof openings and gargoyle spouts are ideal nesting places for starlings,
w h o prefer holes at least one-and-a-half inches in diameter that stand ten to
thirty feet above the ground. They roost in congregations of hundreds to thou-
sands, so obviously they don't mind having other nests nearby Starlings are par-
ticularly aggressive in their nesting and will not hesitate to appropriate the nest
sites of other birds.
T h e house wren (Troglodytes aedon) doesn't seem as offensive as the pigeon
or starling, but it shares some of their nesting patterns. T h e small bird is un-
expectedly aggressive in its search for nests, like the starling. Wrens are terri-
torial, however, and will g o so far as to destroy the nest and even the eggs of a
competitor. They prefer tree holes or manmade sites about two inches in di-
ameter, four to thirty feet above ground.
Many of the stone features on medieval buildings that are called gargoyles
have nothing to do with drainage spouts. Serious architects and cathedral-
lovers prefer the terms chimera or grotesque for these freestanding, nonfunc-
tional figures. Chimera is derived from the monster that Bellerophon overcame,
and the term is relatively recent. Grotesque derives from grotte, meaning an un-
derground chamber (related to the word grotto). It is supposed to derive from
the sixteenth-century excavations of the then-underground Golden House in
Rome, originally built by Nero but submerged beneath many centuries of dirt.
The works o f art uncovered there inspired several artists, particularly Raphael,
w h o borrowed from them for his decoration of the Vatican.

Primarily grotesque designates these Classic and Renaissance symmetrical in-

terlacings of conventionalized plant forms with fantastic and human and animal
shapes, satyrs, centaurs, and similar fabulous creatures, heads, masks, and fes-
toons, birds and insects, arms and armor, vases and allegorical figures of virtues
and vices. Only by a monstrous perversion of the word can grotesque be twisted
from Renaissance to Gothic.2
 176 The Solution

Whatever the nomenclature, what concerns me here is the relationship be-

tween these nonspouting figures and the gargoyles and Gorgon antefixes. The
former don't cover anything, so why make them threatening? I believe that
these odd figures and faces, too, served a useful purpose. They adorned ledges
and angles, just the places pigeons and other birds used for resting and some-
times nesting. Some looked amazingly like the plastic owls manufactured to-
day—glaring-eyed, spread-winged owls set into the angles inside buildings, or
outside near a ledge. Some of the grotesques in English churches are aston-
ishingly Gorgonlike, their contrasting, staring eyes keeping watch over prime
bird real estate.
But we're not yet finished. Consider the capitals we call Ionic. These tops of
columns have a delicate, scrolllike appearance that differentiates them from the
earlier, simpler Doric form. What is this design meant to represent? Why put
a scroll atop a column?
Many Ionic capitals deviate somewhat from the "classical" scroll form. The
curls are much closer together, as in the capitals found at Delphi. Such capitals
bear a close resemblance those "floral" antefixes with their curlicue "eyes." The
tops of these columns "stare back" at the viewer and might serve to deter birds
that would otherwise frequent them.
For a long time I wondered if there might be a parallel to the Gorgoneion
or gargoyle in Islamic Arabic art. The Muslim religion forbids the depiction of
living creatures in art, so by extension there should not be any fantastic crea-
tures adorning Muslim architecture. Yet if the advantages of such bird-deter-
ring features as 1 suggest were real, Muslim artists and architects could have
been expected to adapt those objects to their own style or to develop them in-
dependently After all, Muslim art, being forbidden to use animals, developed
geometric ornamentation and tessellation to a high pitch. Surely something re-
sembling the Greek floral antefixes would be both effective and allowable un-
der Islamic law. And indeed, the capitals atop the columns at the Great Mosque
of Cordoba and the Alhambra fulfill these expectations. They are copiously
fitted with circular "eyes," as are the Delphic capitals.
There is one more prominent place where frightening Gorgon eyes ap-
pear—on Greek bowls and cups, as demonstrated by many examples in muse-
ums around the world. Sometimes a Gorgon face appears in the center of the
inside of a cup. Much more commonly, a pair of huge eyes is painted on the
outside of the cup. Much larger than human eyes—more like those of the
owl—they appear particularly striking because they are painted in high con-
trast. The eyes have vivid whites as well as huge and dark pupils, surrounded
by an eyelike silhouette. Sometimes are formed by concentric circles of alter-
nating light and dark, forming a hypnotic "bull's-eye."
The relationship between these eye-cups and the Gorgon are made clear by
the incorporation of Gorgoneia into the design of the cups. In some cases the
Gorgon face is set smack between the two eyes. In other cases the Gorgoneia
fill the pupils of the eyes. There can be no doubt that these eyes were meant to
be apotropaic, but why? It's not as if they were protecting a temple from ma-
lign influences. The best they could be said to do was to protect a drink. Worthy
9.iï Kyiisc (eye-cup—a drinking
cup decorated with large staring
eyes). An Attic black-figure cup
circa523-500 B.C.E. Courtesy of the
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston,
Francis Bartlett Collection.

9.12 Kylix (eye-cup). An

Attic black-figure cup circa
520-500 B.C.E. Note the
Bacchic face between the
eyes. There is a Gorgoneion
in the interior of the cup.
Courtesy the Museum of
Fine Arts, Boston, Henry
Lillie Pierce Fund.

9.13 Kylix (eye-cup). Attic

black figure cup circa 550-500
B.C.E. Courtesy the Arthur M.
Sackler Museum, Harvard
University Art Museums, be-
quest of Joseph C. Hoppin.
There is a Gorgoneion in the
interior (reproduced as figure
3-3)-
 178 The Solution

a goal as that may be, no one seriously proposes it as an explanation. Some, like
Françoise Frontisi-Ducroux, suggest that the design offered protection to the
person w h o drank from the cup. W h e n the cup was tilted and the drinker was
concentrating on the wine, the eyes might be protecting the drinker's vulner-
able throat. O r perhaps they were intended to provoke contemplation of su-
pernatural things, even death itself.
All of this seems pretty grim to me. And besides, Gorgon-eyed bowls are
only part of a grand tradition that covers much wider territory. Gorgon heads
also appear on the handles of ancient Greek food containers. In some cases,
jars and botdes were made entirely in the shape of Gorgon heads. In others,
the Gorgon head is attached to the handles of the vessel so that it stares pro-
tectively across the open mouth of the vessel.
Need I g o further? The Gorgon faces, especially the eyes, were placed on
containers to dissuade creatures from pilfering the contents. After all, cups
could contain other drinks than wine (although the Greeks were very specific
in the intended purposes of their crockery). I think the use of the Gorgon in
such cases was intended to go beyond scaring birds to include frightening small
mammals as well—for instance, mice and squirrels. Although some people feel
that scarecrows, of debatable value against birds, are even less useful against
the much smarter rodents, these same people will buy the plastic and ceramic
figurines sold today in an attempt to keep rabbits out of their gardens. 3
Many storage jars and vases from around the Mediterranean are adorned
with circles around the neck. These circles, either painted or incised, are almost
invariably in pairs. Often they take the form of concentric circles, striking be-
cause of their high contrast, and almost hypnotic. They may appear on the
necks o f vases or near the tops of "face pots" that usually lack any other re-
semblance to faces. There has long been a belief among many scholars that
these widespread figures represented, if not a single cult, then the track of a
belief that spread from the Near East and around the Mediterranean into
northern Europe. The most influential single volume about this phenomenon
is O. G. S. Crawford's The Eye Goddess (1957), in which Crawford draws together
all the evidence linking these figures and a primitive mother goddess. "The
great megalithic tomb builders of Western Europe were imbued with a reli-
gious faith," wrote a supporter, G. E. Daniel, the year after Crawford's work
was published. "[They] were devotees o f a goddess whose face glares out from
pot and phalange idol and the dark shadows of the tomb walls, whose image
is twisted into the geometry of Portuguese schist plaques and the rich carvings
of Gavrinis and N e w Grange."
Much skepticism has greeted Crawford's claims since his book was pub-
lished, although it has been muted. "It is probable that such statements reveal
more about the faith of prehistorians than about that of the megalith builders,"
noted Andrew Fleming in "The Myth of the Mother-Goddess" (1969). "There
is in fact an urgent need to re-examine the whole hypothesis."
I myself am skeptical of theories of a single prehistoric cult of such wide
dispersion, if only because it is so large. Crawford doesn't present any evidence
that the cult was united or homogenous. To my mind, he doesn't even present
 9.14 Greek and Etruscan
vases. Note the vase in the
upper right in the form of
a Gorgon head. Courtesy
of the Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston.

9.15 Vase in the form of a Gorgon head.

Courtesy of the Antikensammlung
Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer
Kulturbesitz.
 180 The Solution

evidence showing that those rings and circles on the mouths o f jars are god-
dess symbols at all. His evidence, in short, seems much like my own evidence
for the wide occurrence of the Gorgon face around the world—except that I
make no claims that these occurrences had a single origin or purpose, some-
thing Crawford does claim for his goddess symbols. Even Miriam Robbins-
Dexter, in her introduction to a recent edition of Crawford, noted, "Crawford's
usual careful methodology was lacking in The Eye GoddessRobbins-Dexter
cites many modern theories for the origin of the eye symbols. For all I know,
these may be quite correct. But I maintain that the reason such eye-circles ap-
peared consistently on storage pots was that they had a very real and useful
purpose—they deterred pilferage by small-brained creatures. The potters may
have placed them there because it was traditional to do so, or because they
hoped the god or goddess would protect the goods within, or for a great many
other reasons, but the symbols remained because they actually did work. 4
So there you have my theory explaining the use of Gorgons on antefixes and
their relation to gargoyles. In essence, I claim, both were there to deter birds
from nesting in roofs and drainpipes, thereby destroying the one and render-
ing useless the other. So effective was the deterrent that the Greeks and the
Chinese independently discovered the value of Gorgon antefixes (which later
spread to Italy and Japan), and the Borneans and Maoris also used the figure on
the gables of their storage and meeting huts. The Greeks, Chinese, and French
independently discovered the value o f the carved gargoyle. I suggest, as well,
that the same "evolutionary" forces that produced the Gorgon also produced
floral antefixes with "eyes" and the Ionic capital.
The same use of the Gorgon on pots, cups, and vases scared away small
mammals as well, protecting the food within. This practice, too, was indepen-
dently discovered throughout the ancient world and was widely used on pots
in many cultures. Remember the Chinese T'ao-T'ieh, the glutton? Legend had
it that he was put on the side o f food jars as a warning against overeating. I
think this is a later rationalization to explain the scarecrow on the pot.
My support for my theories is that staring owl faces are even now being used
as passive bird deterrent devices, and that this is the basis on which several com-
panies now produce plastic and ceramic owls and high-tech balloons.
W h y did the Gorgon face also appear on these objects? The Gorgon was not
exclusively used, even in Greece. Bacchus, for example, also appears on
antefixes and on cups. But the Gorgon was, I assert, the staring face of choice.
Among the pictorial archetypes of ancient Greece, the Gorgon was one of the
very few depicted en face, staring out at the viewer, and thus was one of the few
with two large, staring eyes. For this reason, the Gorgon became the face used
on bird-deterrent objects, just as it was the distracting face used on the shields
and breastplates. It is why Athena had the head of the Gorgon on her aegis.
What is curious is that others, elsewhere in the world, felt the same way
about this type of face. This is why there are Gorgonlike faces on antefixes in
China and Gorgons on the shields and breastplates of the Maya and the in-
habitants of the Sepik River in N e w Guinea. Its why Gorgons glare down from
 Gorgons and Gargoyles17i

the gables of buildings in Borneo and N e w Zealand. All of these people knew
that face and declared it the Staring Face, the obvious choice for these uses.
All of which raises the question: What, exactly, was the Gorgon? Earlier
chapters have suggested why the Gorgon appeared on antefixes, gables, shields,
breastplates, and cups. They have explained how elements of the Gorgon myth
are dictated by the astronomical features of the constellations. But none of
these things explains the Gorgon's features themselves. Any staring figure
might have answered for all of these causes. W h y it is specifically the Gorgon
that has the protruding tongue, the wide grin, the ringlet hair, and the staring
eyes? W h y did people find this face particularly frightening? This is the subject
we address in the next chapter.
 CDHAR x h e ÇORÇOD
R6A1LV 0 ) A S
In Greek and Roman tradition, Medusa was the most
famous of the three Gorgons, the serpent-haired sisters
whose glance was literally petrifying, and whof as the
bright schoolboy wrote, "looked like women, only more
horrible/*. . . These grotesque representations must be
classified among the few real failures of Greek art; to
the modern mind they seem about as frightening as a
Halloween mask designed by a six-year old child,
—Robert Burnham Jr.,
Burnham's Celestial Handbook, 1978

The Gorgon was a maiden bold

Who turned to stone the Greeks of old
That looked upon her awful brow.
We dig them out of ruins now;
And swear that workmanship so bad
Proves all the ancient sculptors mad.
—Ambrose Bierce,
The Devil's Dictionary, 1911

T H E QUOTES T H A T OPEN THIS C H A P T E R a r e d i a m e t r i c a l l y o p p o s e d t o t h e o n e

that opened Chapter 3, in which Humfry Payne called the Gorgon "one of the
most remarkable creations of the archaic period/' I agree with Payne (although
I should note that many of the Gorgon parallels from other cultures encroach
pretty heavily on Greek originality), but I see the points of Burnham and
Bierce, If the Gorgon is meant to be an apotropaic device, as so many claim,
then what sort of lily-livered attacker is it capable of scaring off? T o b e sure, it
has the features of a scowling monster. But be truthful—who would really be
afraid of that face? Doesn't its frequent appearances on antefixes, on shields,
and on cups and jars dilute what little shock value it may once have had? After
all, we in the twentieth century no longer see Gorgons everywhere we look,
but even w e are used to the sight. In ancient Greece and Rome, as I've shown
in the last few chapters, the Gorgon was a c o m m o n motif, repeated endlessly

183
 184 The Solution

around the roofs o f temples and other buildings, staring from the tops of pots
and jars, looking out from over the doors of ovens. Was this a face so fright-
ening that it could turn a man to stone?
As is often the case, I think that the inability of the Gorgon to impress our
modern sensibilities is the result of our not getting the whole picture. The
Gorgon would be much more horrible if we knew what it really was. It's not
that odd face by itself that's so terrifying, but what it implies. Renditions of the
Gorgon are as stylized as anything else in ancient art, and that stylizing is itself
a mask, hiding the unbearably awful reality beneath. This isn't just hyperbole
on my part. At the date of this writing (1999), you can see surgical operations
in all their gory glory on basic cable television. On the premium channels you
will find plenty of sex and violence. But no one has yet shown you the face of
the original inspiration for the Gorgon.
So what is this original figure? For a clue, we must consider all those Gorgon
parallels I brought up in Chapter 4. In addition to the seventh-century B.C.E.
Greek Gorgon (and other Greek parallels), we have the Egyptian Bes from 2000
B.C.E., the head of Humbaba from as early as 2750 B.C.E., Kirtimukkha in India
from much more recently, Kali in her present form from perhaps about 400 C.E. ,
and Rangda in Indonesia. In China the figure dates back to the eleventh or
twelfth century B.C.E. HOW far back the Maori carvings and those of the
Northwest Coast go isn't known. The Chavin metalworks in Peru date from
800 B.C.E., but the Teotihuacan, Mayan, and Aztec parallels are much later, com-
ing from about 100 B.C.E., 700 C.E., and 1400 C.E., respectively.
As I've pointed out, some of these parallels are astonishingly alike, and I find
none of them questionable (there are a great many other, less probable, paral-
lels I could easily drag into the discussion). More important, they often appear
to be serving the same functions—Gorgon shields in Greece find exact paral-
lels in Mayan shields and those from of the Sepik River. Gorgon faces over oven
doorways in Greece parallel the Kirtimukkha faces over temple doorways in
India. Gorgon antefixes in Greece exactly duplicate Gorgon faces on antefixes
in China and Japan. These depictions and uses, however, don't show any pat-
tern that could tie them together into a logical whole. In a perfectly ordered
and logical world, the oldest depictions o f a Gorgonlike ancestor would appear
in one place, such as Mesopotamia. The further you got from this Gorgonic
Eden in time, the further you would get from it in distance as well. The trail of
evidence documenting similar uses would show a continuous and even spread-
ing of that use as it was carried from place to place, moving through the set-
tled districts over time. But the Gorgon seems to have leapfrogged from place
to place, showing up in one place long after it had appeared elsewhere, with no
obvious connection between the new location and other areas where Gorgon
art was produced. Gorgon antefixes emerged in Greece and China without
ever seeming to have passed through en route. Gorgon shields aren't found
anywhere between Greece and New Guinea, or between New Guinea and
Central America.
From time to time people try to tie a few of the Gorgon parallels together
into some sort of chain. So Miguel Covarrubias tried to build a family tree of
 What the Gorgon Really Was 185

South American and Central American Gorgons, and G. F. Eckholm, Douglas

Fraser, and a great many others have tried to find a c o m m o n path for the
Gorgons of N e w Zealand, China, and the Pacific Northwest. Clark Hopkins
was sure that Humbaba had developed into Medusa; A. B. C o o k believed it
more likely that Bes provided the germ of the idea. Each of these separate con-
structions, however, though it may tie a few of the parallels together, fails to
account for the great mass of other parallels.
1 believe that most o f these parallels are truly independent, and that Co-
varrubias, Hopkins, and the others are barking up the w r o n g tree. T h e great
spread in space and time convinces me that we must find some other explana-
tion besides diffusion to account for all those similar faces. I don t believe in any
sort of telepathic or encoded "collective unconscious." Barring the possibility
of time-traveling von Däniken extraterrestials to account for the spread, we
must turn to something more basic. The Gorgon must represent something
common to all those cultures—something the people could see and interpret
for themselves, but in much the same way that others did.
This was the feeling of F. T. Elworthy, w h o m w e met back in Chapter 4.
Elworthy, you will recall, was convinced that the octopus lay at the heart of the
Gorgon myth. That decapitated, snaky head with its staring eyes was really the
head of a cephalopod with tentacles waving, its eyes so uncannily like the hu-
man eye in function and appearance. Elworthy gleefully noted, after his initial
lecture on the subject, that there were parallels to the Greek Gorgon from
South America and from N e w Zealand, both areas that were quite familiar
with the octopus. All these cultures had interpreted the features of the octo-
pus as a severed human head, with the same sort of mouth, perhaps inspired
by the parrotlike beak and the tonguelike siphon.
But I have to ask if this theory is really likely W h y should the Aztecs, living
in the center of Mexico a mile above sea level, have known or cared about the
octopus? W h y would they have associated it with the sun god or the earth mon-
ster? Wouldn't it have been more appropriate simply to associate it with the
sea? Is it likely that the octopus or squid was responsible for any o f the Indian
parallels? Octopodes certainly don't occupy a central position in the culture or
diet of India. And how about the parallels from noncoastal China? Is it really
likely that all of these groups would see the siphon as a tongue? Wouldn't at
least one or two draw that parrotlike cephalopod beak os a parrot beak, instead
of turning it into gritted teeth and fangs? Use of stylization and abstraction is
one thing, but this theory would require that everyone subscribe to the same
brand of anthropomorphization. Even if representatives from the artistic com-
munities of each group were gathered together in a room, I don't think you'd
be able to persuade them all to render the octopus as exactly the same kind of
human face.
That unlikelihood is what finally convinced me that basis for the Gorgon
was not the face of the octopus. By the same token, I don't believe the other
explanations that have been offered, either. At least the octopus does possess
features that everyone could conceivably (if not very probably) have meta-
morphosed into the same face. But why would both the Aztecs and the Greeks
 186 The Solution

have put pop-eyes and protruding tongues on the face of the sun? Or moon?
O r stormclouds? Could the Maoris have been inspired to come up with their
Tiki faces or the Chavin of Peru to have devised their metalwork images by the
sight o f gorillas or lions? Whatever the Catoblepas really was, could it have in-
spired the T'ao-T'ieh or the other Chinese parallels?
It doesn't seem likely to me that w e can designate some animal as the root
o f the Gorgon, since no one animal spans the geographical range of Gorgon
parallels. The sun and moon seem unlikely to have produced such universally
similar features as well; even if we grant that those round sky faces inspired
the en face aspect, they cannot account for the unique facial features. The ques-
tion is, what item, common to the experience of a broad range of human-
kind, could produce a humanlike face with huge, staring eyes, broad nose,
wide, gritted-toothed grin, protruding tongue, facial lines, and stylized hair?
We are not familiar with the answer because it is kept from us, deliberately.
A t one time in our history it was a much more common sight, just as deliber-
ately placed in view. Much of the time, it was simply considered inevitable. But
it was distasteful at best, horrifying at worst, and so over time it has been care-
fully removed from immediate view, a process that has now gone on for so long
that the object is no longer familiar.
"Nothing is inevitable except Death and Taxes," said Daniel Defoe (followed
by Benjamin Franklin and many others). But taxes were collected only with the
rise of civilization. Death has been the great common experience of human-
kind since the beginning.
After death the body undergoes a number of changes. The core tempera-
ture declines, the blood pools, rigor mortis sets in, then retreats. The body's de-
fenses against the onslaught of bacteria shut down, and it begins to decay The
rate of decomposition depends on the surrounding temperature and other en-
vironmental factors. Generally, it is not until one or two weeks have gone by
that the corpse begins to expand from the pressure of the gases generated by
decomposition. The results of this process are dramatic. The tongue begins to
swell, pushing itself out of the mouth. The eyes swell as well, and they pro-
trude grotesquely from the sockets. Sometimes a bloody fluid leaks from the
mucous membranes around the eyes. The face bloats, broadening all the fea-
tures. T h e lips may pull back from the teeth. The hair begins to detach itself
from the scalp. In other words, the body begins to take on the characteristic
features of the Gorgon.
You might think that I am pressing my case too far, exaggerating fringe as-
pects and pulling them together to create the impression that the putrefying
corpse looks like the Gorgon, that by selective re-stating of the evidence, I
could make the corpse resemble any of a number of creatures. But consider
the following quotations from textbooks on forensic medicine:

Discoloured natural fluids and liquefied tissues are made frothy by gas and some
exude from the natural orifices, forced out by the increasing pressure in the body
cavities. The eyes bulge and the tongue protrudes; skin blisters burst and the
bloated trunk disrupts. 1
 What the Gorgon Really Was 187

Gas disrupts internal organs which show air sacs. T h e skin affected likewise be-
gins to reveal blisters with or without slippage. Such changes are ordinarily seen
in bodies dead 3 to 5 days. In another day or t w o generalized swelling o f the tis-
sues begins and the face and the abdomen b e c o m e bloated and the eyeballs and
tongue protrude. 2

In other words, these Gorgonlike features are the most notable and visible
signs of progressing decay They mark the characteristic appearance of a body
that has been dead for one to three weeks without undergoing any sort of em-
balming. Our own lack of familiarity with this state is due to our rapid treat-
ment of the deceased. Bodies are rushed to coolers to retard the action o f bac-
teria, then treated with antibacterial fluids and preservatives. In the ancient
world, however, unless burial followed soon after death, these changes of de-
composition would have been familiar to everyone, especially in those cases in
which the body was deliberately kept from burial.
In addition to the facial resemblance between corpses and the Gorgon, 1
think we can detect other features that also relate to Greek Gorgon parallels.
The dark skin coloring, from "green to purple to black," recalls Pausanias's de-
scription of Eurynomos, the figure painted on the wall of the clubhouse at
Delphi. This figure was blue-black in color, "like the flies that settle on meat."
Jane Harrison thought that Aeschylus cribbed his description of the Erinyes
(Furies) from the Gorgons, but the description of them in The Eumenides does

10. i Photograph of a corpse after more than 48 hours. The gases of putrefaction have caused inter-
nal swelling. Thus makes the eyes pop; the tongue protrude, and makes the face round. The hair has
begun to separate as well. A/I of these features are prominent in the Gorgon and its parallels. Photo-
graph from Keith Simpson's Forensic Medicine, fifth edition. Reprinted courtesy of Edwin Arnold
Publications, London.

10.2 Photograph of a corpse deadfor more than 48 hours, seen in profile. This is a different subject
than in figure 10.1, but the same protruding eyes and tongue are clearly seen. Photograph from
anonymous donor.
 188 The Solution

not seem to come from a later, 'sterilized" Gorgon portrait. It exudes the real
feel of decay:

They are black and utterly repulsive,

and they snore with breath that drives
one back. From their eyes drips the foul
ooze.3

Similarly, in The Libation Bearers, the Furies are said to be "repulsive for the
blood drops of their dripping eyes." 4 Harrison thought that the foul ooze was
a representation of the power of petrification, but I think that the interpreta-
tion I offer here is more direct and intellectually satisfying.
This identification of the Gorgon with the putrefying corpse (and thus with
death) seems obvious in retrospect. In its first appearance in Greek literature,
the Gorgon head is the monster of Hades, the realm of the dead. The figure of
Eurynomos is the monster of hell, represented in a scene illustrating the same
passage. Apollodorus puts Medusa in the land of the dead, and Virgil places the
Gorgonlike Erinyes there as well. Other parallels from elsewhere in the world
continue the theme. Kali lives in the cremation grounds of the dead. T h e Tiki
figures of New Zealand represent dead ancestors. In Mexico the lord of the
dead is Mictecuhtli, with his skeletal rictus grin and protruding tongue. The
other Gorgon-faced deities, Tonatiuh (or Xochipilli- Piltzin tecuhtli) and the
earth goddess Coatlicue, are also associated with the dead. So is Xolotl, the
Gorgon-faced evening star. The Gorgonlike faces on masks in New Ireland and
on the gables of buildings in N e w Caledonia and New Zealand are supposed
to represent dead ancestors. In Borneo, the face is painted on the sides of mor-
tuary houses and on masks used in mortuary rites. Even if the putrefying
corpse weren't a promising candidate for the origin of the Gorgon on grounds
of a shared human experience, its claim would be strengthened by this
widespread association with death and ancestors.
As I've noted, the sight o f a decomposing corpse was more common in the
ancient world than it is today One reason for this was certainly the lack of mod
ern mortuary technology, but another was surely that burial was sometimes
deliberately avoided. The plot of Sophocless Antigone revolves around such a
denied burial. In The Iliad, Achilles retains the corpse of Hector in order to
defile it, denying it burial and dragging it by the heels around the walls of Troy.
Only the efforts of the gods, standing in as morticians, prevent the destruction
and decay of the corpse.
Battlefield corpses, too numerous to bury, would decay in just such a fash-
ion described above. This particular phenomenon has continued from ancient
times down to the present day, of course. After the battle of Gettysburg in the
American Civil War, a Union artilleryman noted:

The dead bodies of men and horses had lain there, putrefying under the sum-
mer sun for three days... corpses swollen to twice their original size, some of
them actually burst asunder with the pressure of foul gases and vapors. . ..
Several human or inhuman corpses sat upright against a wall, with arms ex-
tended in the air and faces hideous with something very like a fixed leer, as if tak-
 What the Gorgon Really Was 189

ing a fiendish pleasure in showing us what we essentially were and might at any
moment become.5

Another custom that delayed burial was the practice of beheading an en-
emy or criminal and displaying the head on a pike at some prominent location.
This practice had an especially useful purpose in cultures where most people
were illiterate—it unequivocally announced that a given person was dead. Sir
Thomas More and Bishop John Fisher of Rochester, opponents of Henry VIII
of England's break with the Roman Catholic Church, were beheaded and their
heads displayed on Tower Bridge. So were Lady Jane Grey and her husband,
twenty years later. T h e British continued the practice until 1747, when Lord
Friser de Lovat was beheaded and his head piked on Tower Bridge. The British
needn't be singled out, of course—the French also displayed the heads and the
quartered bodies of executed notables. Similar horror stories from throughout
Europe and the rest of the world abound. In Bronze Age Europe there was a
Cult of the Severed Head that decorated many displays and shrines with de-
tached heads.
Decapitation did not eliminate the bloating and gas pressure of decompo-
sition—the body is not one big bag of gas, which a single rupture can deflate.
The individual tissues each become distended by putrefaction, so even a de-
capitated head can acquire the Gorgonian bulging eyes and protruding tongue.
Forensic specialists have observed that, in the case of a drowning victim, the
head may, in fact, separate from the body without external force. Decay sim-
ply loosens the linkages between the torso and the head to such an extent that
the two can separate with little provocation, and such a putrefying Gorgonian
head can be left to drift at sea or be washed on shore. Is this, perhaps the rea-
son the Greeks associated the Gorgons with the sea?
This particular representation of death was dropped from the iconography
of Western art rather quickly If the Gorgon head is a stylized representation
of a newly decaying body (as I believe), then although in this form it came to
be a standard figure, the more realistic depiction of it never did attain such sta
tus. Bloated carcasses rarely appear in art, even down to the present day. The
symbol of death is usually a skeleton or a mummified corpse, in which tightly
stretched skin barely covers the underlying skeleton. An army of such skin-
and-bones dead men marches on humanity in Pieter Brueghel the Elder's 1562
painting Triumph of Death. The skeleton itself is familiar from many memento
mori paintings. But there is a dry, impersonal feel to these animated skeletons.
It's too easy to dismiss the notion that they were once housed in living human
bodies, that those dry bones ever had any connection to the organic.
The decaying corpse that lies behind the Gorgon is, I maintain, an altogether
more horrifying symbol o f death precisely because it is inseparable from a liv-
ing, breathing human. Tolstoy captured the essence of this horror in his rem-
iniscence, Childhood, Boyhood, Youth, in which he describes himself, as a young
boy, looking at the corpse o f his mother only one day after her death:

I stood on a chair, in order to see her face; but I imagined I saw in the place where
it ought to have been the same pale yellow, translucent object. I could not be-
 190 The Solution

lieve that it was her face. 1 began to look more closely at it, and by degrees rec-
ognized the familiar features which were so dear to me. Ï shuddered from ter-
ror, when I convinced myself that it was she. But why were her closed eyes so
sunken? Why this terrible pallor, and the black spot under the translucent skin
on one of her cheeks? Why was the expression of her whole face so severe and
cold? Why were her lips so pale, and their position so beautiful, so majestic, and
expressing such an unearthly calm that a cold chill passed over my back and hair,
as I looked at her?
I looked, and felt that a certain incomprehensible, irresistable power was at-
tracting my eyes to that lifeless face. I riveted my gaze upon it, and my imagi-
nation painted for me pictures abloom with life and happiness. I forgot that the
dead body, which was lying before me and at which I was looking meaninglessly,
as at an object which had nothing in common with my memories, was she. I
imagined her now in one, now in another situation: alive, merry, smiling; then
I was struck by some feature in her pale face, upon which my eyes were resting;
I recalled the terrible reality, and again the consciousness of reality destroyed my
dreams.6

The Gorgoneion is terrible because it shows us the transformation o f a hu-

man being into Death, and does so by a process that destroys all dignity. The
eyes pop out and may cross, the tongue protrudes, the skin discolors and spots,
the body bloats, the hair separates, and the entire thing stinks. It is terrible to
see in a stranger, worse to contemplate in a loved one, and shattering to con-
sider that the same fate awaits oneself.
In the stylized image of this process, the Gorgoneion, the more repugnant
aspects have been cleaned up. The eyes are piercing, but not disgusting. They
do not cross in a ridiculous way. The protruding tongue is neater. The bloating
has been rendered in neat form as a broad nose and wide cheeks. The separat-
ing hair has become neat curls, the skin blemishes regular marks and lines. It
has been made acceptable. 7
There is a somewhat less terrifying form that may also have influenced
shape of the Gorgon, one that is just as universal as death and decay This is the
appearance of a human undergoing a hysterical fit. J. M. Charcot described
these in the nineteenth century In his 1877 work, Lectures on Diseases of the
Nervous System, he notes the case of a woman he calls Ler , who underwent
fits "characterized in the first stage by epileptiform and tetaniform convul-
sions," including "a more or less marked permanent contracture o f the
tongue." 8 His sketch of Ler portrays her with a Gorgonlike rictus grin,
while another hysteric has an excessively protruding tongue. Charcot re-
marked on the similarities between such hysterical cases and historical cases of
demonic possession. The similarities in all respects are indeed striking. Charcot
and Paul Richer collected descriptions and depictions of such possessed indi-
viduals in their 1887 work Les Démoniaques dans l'Art. T w o of Richerts sketches
show afflicted women with truly Gorgonian faces, complete with a blank, soul-
less stare and grotesquely protruding tongues.
A historical example of such a possession occurred in New England shortly
before the time of the Salem witchcraft trials. Elizabeth Knapp of Groton, Mas-
sachusetts, suffered attacks starting on October 30,1671, and continuing until
 What the Gorgon Really Was 191

at least January 15,1672. These were reported in detail by her minister, Samuel
Willard. Knapp had fits and the sensations of choking. O n November 15 "her
tongue was for many hours together drawn up to the roof of her mouth, and
not to be removed, for some tried with the fingers to do it." A month later her
tongue was drawn ' o u t o f her mouth most frightfully, to an extraordinary
length and greatness." 9
Classical mythology contains a counterpart to these stories of possession in
the contortions of Hercules. In his play The Madness of Hercules (ca. 424 B.C.E.),
Euripides portrays the senseless insanity visited upon the great hero by the
gods. Note the description o f his appearance:

See him—lo, his head he tosses in the fearful race begun!

See his Gorgon-glaring eyeballs all in silence wildly roiled!
Like a bull in act to charge, with fiery pantings uncontrolled
Awfully he bellows, howling to the fateful fiends of hell!

lo, he seemed no more the same,

But wholly marred, with rolling eyes distraught,
With bloodshot eye-roots starting from his head,
While dripped the slaver down his bearded cheek.10

Hercules is described as "Gorgon-eyed" (gorgopis), Elsewhere in the play,

Madness is described as "Night's daughter, a Gorgon with hundred-headed hiss
of serpents, / Madness the glittering-eyed." 11 T h e identification with Gorgons
is hammered home by a recollection of Hera's attempt to kill the infant
Hercules by sending "Gorgon-glaring serpents secretly/Against my cradle,
that I might be slain." 12 The word used to describe the eyes of the serpents is
the same as that used to describe the eyes of the maddened Hercules a few lines
earlier. In no other account of this incident are the snakes so described. It is
clear that to Euripides, at least, the face of the Gorgon was the face of mad-
ness.
 11
-vche çoRçon today
Anyone who wants to travelfiirther by sea and arrive
near Jerusalem will go from Cyprus Jaffa, for that is
the nearest port to Jerusalem. There is the city of
Joppa; but it is called Jaffa after one of Noah's sons,
called Japhet, who founded it. And some men say it is
the oldest city in the world, for it was founded before
Noah's flood. And there are the bones of a giant there
who was called Andromeda, and one of hù ribs is
forty feet long
—Sir John M andevill e,
Travels, ijj6

NO ONE KNOWS EXACTLY WHO Sir John Mandeville was. He claimed to be an

English knight, but that claim is probably as false as everything else about him.
In 1372 a certain Jean de Bourgogne of Liège in Belgium claimed on his
deathbed to have written the Travels, and his tombstone identifies him as the
knight, but that assertion has come under suspicion, as well. Whoever he was,
his book was wildly popular in its day—one of the first printed bestsellers.
More than three hundred copies survive from the beginning of the sixteenth
century translated into every European language. Mandeville's book was pe-
rused by Christopher Columbus before he undertook his historic voyage, by
the explorer Frobisher, and by many others. Like a great many bestsellers since,
its charms are not due to the veracity of its contents. It is Mandeville we have
to thank for the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary and the Vegetable Goose of the
West, among other travel legends. W e know that he stole large portions of his
book from the works of others without attribution (at least twenty such
sources have been identified), and that he bumbled a few other sources to-
gether and made up much of the rest. He does have a few supporters w h o claim
to have identified original and believable sections amid all this dross.
But the quotation that opens this chapter is typical. In it Mandeville man-
ages to misidentify the princess Andromeda as a giant, possibly one of those

193
 194 The Solution

antediluvian Nephilim that the book of Genesis says was on the earth "in those
days," the days of Noah (Genesis 6:4). The idea may have been suggested to
Mandeville because he thinks Joppa itself predates the Flood and because of
the giant bones. He may have been thinking of the bones supposed to be those
of Ketos, the sea monster, which were said to have been found there, later to
be exhibited at Rome. Or perhaps he had a confused recollection of Flavius
Josephus s statement that the shackles that bound Andromeda were still to be
seen at the seashore at Joppa. Whatever the case, it shows how poor the mem-
ory o f the story of Perseus and Andromeda could have become by the four-
teenth century.
Although knowledge of the classics was never truly lost during the Dark and
Middle Ages, familiarity with many myths waned with the advent of Christian-
ity. Works of art illustrating the myths disappeared from pots and public build-
ings and other objects of everyday life, and the stories became the sole prop-
erty o f the literate class. Gorgonlike figures occasionally surfaced, such as the
grotesques and gargoyles we treated in Chapter 9, but I believe these were in-
dependent re-creations of the image, bearing little or no direct relationship to
the classical models that had preceded them. T h e monster Grendel in the Old
English poem Beowulf shows some similarities to the Gorgon, especially when
the hero, Beowulf, cuts off the monster's head in triumph, but that is another
case of an independent myth.
Just as it faded from art, the Gorgon vanished from the underworld, too. New
concepts of hell came from the Bible, from apocryphal sources, and from vision
literature. Illustrators, stonemasons, and mystery plays depicted the Mouth of
Hell as the literal jaws of a monster, a sort of Kirtimukkha swollen to be not
merely the guardian of the Gate, but the doorway itself But the spaces within
Hell were populated by fallen angels, bestial demons, monster birds, and the
new Christian Devil, derived (some think) from a demonized Pan. Gone were
the tortures and fantastical creatures of classical Hades.
A benchmark in the resurrection of the Gorgon is the work of a man in-
strumental in reintroducing classical mythology in a new guise. Dante Ali-
ghieri, poet and scholar, was born in 1265 in Florence. He is best known for
his monumental Divine Comedy, which gives a tour of hell, purgatory, and
heaven in a series of one hundred rhyming triplets, using a form Dante him-
self devised. The hero of the poem, also named Dante, is escorted through the
nine circles of hell before beginning his ascent through purgatory to the
heights of heaven. His guide through the underworld is Virgil, author of The
Aeneid. Much has been made o f the fact that Virgil was perceived by thirteenth-
century Italians as a prophet (because his Fourth Eclogue was thought to have
predicted the coming of Christ) and as a mediator between the pagan Rome of
the Caesars and the apostolic Rome of Peter and Paul. But surely the main rea-
son Dante chose him as a guide was because he admired The Aeneid and be-
cause that poem also describes a descent by its main character into the under-
world.
Dante clearly cribs from Virgil's descriptions of Hades. In particular, The
Aeneid says that the Furies reside right in the entrance hall to Hades's realm. It
 The Gorgon Today 195

is there that Juno goes to find Alecto, a Fury w h o is described in very

Gorgonion terms. Virgil also notes that the Gorgons, the Harpies, and Geryon
dwell there. T h e poem's hero, Aeneas, draws his sword at their approach. In
Dante's Inferno, the hero, Dante, and his guide, Virgil, are stopped at the city
of Dis, whose gate guards the sixth circle of Inner Hell. This gate is guarded
by the three Furies—Megarea, Alecto, and Tisiphone. The mortal poet and his
guide cower in fear as the Furies call up Medusa to turn Dante to stone, saying
that they let Theseus off too lightly Virgil shields Dante's eyes from the sight,
knowing that he would turn to stone and be unable to return to the world of
the living. They are saved by the intervention of an a n g e l
It has been said that Dante knew Latin but not Greek, and that his knowl-
edge of Homer was secondhand, but I think he did know Apollodorus, if only
in translation. "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds," wrote
Ralph Waldo Emerson, proving that the great Transcendentalist would not
have made a good Trekkie, or comic book enthusiast, or soap opera watcher.
Fans of pop culture are frequently obsessive in their knowledge of trivia and in
their laborious attempts to keep it all consistent. The Roman poet Ovid was
not of this stripe. As I've noted earlier, Ovid had no difficulty with altering
myths to suit his purposes. Had he been writing a p o e m about Sherlock
Holmes, he might very well have changed Watson's first name to Percy to fit
the meter. Apollodorus, on the other hand, would have been a Baker Street
Irregular. Ovid is and was more widely read because his poetry was good—he's
one of those "great souls" of Emerson's w h o don't care for consistency. But
scholars w h o want to know the myths as they were originally told read
Apollodorus.
It bothered Apollodorus, it is clear, that Virgil speaks of "Gorgons" in Hades
when only one of the monsters was mortal. Certainly there was one Gorgon
there, because the great authority himself, Homer, says so. Surely, Apollodorus
must have reasoned, this was Medusa, the sole mortal Gorgon, killed by
Perseus long before the Trojan War. Consequently, when Hercules visits the
underworld in Apollodorus's Library, he encounters a Gorgon that Apollodo-
rus identifies as Medusa. Like Aeneas, Hercules draws his sword against her.
And, also like Aeneas, he is told that these phantoms cannot hurt him.
Dante, like Apollodorus, mentions only one Gorgon and identifies her as
Medusa. It's likely that he got the idea from Apollodorus, although it is possi-
ble that he came to the above line o f reasoning by himself. The clincher,
though, is that the Furies in the Inferno say that they shouldn't have made things
so easy for Theseus. The reason Apollodorus's Hercules is in Hades in the first
place is to rescue Theseus, w h o was trapped there in the chair of Persephone.
It's unlikely Dante would have mentioned Theseus (rather than Aeneas, for in-
stance) as someone w h o got off too easy unless he had the lines from Apollodo-
rus in mind.
After Dante came the deluge. The Gorgon had been rehabilitated and be-
gan to reappear in Western art and literature. The next major contributor to
this renaissance was Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519). Around 1475 he painted a
shield. According to Giorgio Vasari, author of the Lives of the Artists (1568), da
 196 The Solution

Vinci's father, Ser Piero da Vinci, presented his son with a rude shield that one
of his peasants had made, Leonardo straightened it and had it turned flat and
smooth. He covered the new surface with a fresh coat of white gesso, then con-
sidered what to paint on it. Vasari says that Leonardo wanted to produce some-
thing that would have the same terrifying effect as a Medusa. He gathered to-
gether dead serpents, bats, and insects, which he fashioned into a single great
creature with poisonous and fiery breath, which he portrayed as emerging
from a cave. He carried out all this in secret, in a room he kept locked, and did
not even notice that the subjects had begun to decay, so that Ser Piero, coming
upon it, was quite understandably taken aback. Ser Piero was able to sell the
shield in Florence for a high price, and eventually it ended up in the hands of
the Duke of Milan.
The story is a romantic one, and it has its doubters. One detail of Vasari s
story can certainly be questioned—he doesn't actually say that Leonardo
painted the head of a Medusa. But the Anonimo Gaddiano (1542-1547), says
that "he painted a head of the Medusa with strange and remarkable coils of
snakes, which is now in the collection of His Excellency Duke Cosimo."
The shield was inexplicably lost before the eighteenth century. For a long
time a painting of Medusa's head in the Uffizi Museum in Florence was mis-
takenly identified as da Vinci's work, even inspiring two poems—Gabriele
d'Annunzio's 1885 "Gorgo" and Percy Bysshe Shelley's better-known 1819
poem "On the Medusa of Leonardo da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery" The
misleading painting is still extant. It shows the severed head lying face-up,
crown and right side toward the observer (perhaps so that the viewer is not
looking directly at the face and is thus preserved from petrification). This is a
modern depiction of a Gorgon, the angry face of a woman who has a gener-
ous crop of snakes in place of human hair. The other features of the archaic
Gorgon are missing—no fangs, no beard, no huge rictus grin, oversized star-
ing eyes, broad features, or facial lines. There is a frog in the lower right cor-
ner, lending some credence to the belief that this was Leonardo's beast-inspired
portrait. But modern experts agree that the style of the snaky headdress is dis-
tinctly Flemish, and the style of the seventeenth century at that.
Following Leonardo, many other artists produced classically inspired Gor-
gon shields. Filippo Negri did one in metal for Carlo V about 1541, and Jorg
Sigman constructed one in iron about a decade later. In 1608 Michaelanglo de
Caravaggio painted a Medusa head on a round panel that is still in the Uffizi
gallery. The head is presented en face, but the eyes look down (again, to spare
the viewer?). There is a look o f horror on the face, the mouth gaping open (but
without that archaic Gorgon tongue). The head is crowned with snakes. Was
this done in imitation of da Vinci's work? And is it possible that this dramatic
portrait, rather than the less impressive Flemish faux Leonardo, inspired Shel-
ley?
Peter Paul Rubens executed his o w n Medusa head a little later. His shows
the head almost in profile, its eyes huge and staring even in death, the red of
the severed neck plainly visible. Like the others, it does not look directly at the
viewer Its features are essentially those of a woman, and it is festooned with
h.I Head of Medusa, a painting now in the Uffizi gallery in Florence. This work was once at-
tributed to Leonardo da Vinci, and was thought to be the work described in Vfoari'5 biography of
him. It is now believed to be a Flemish work, dating from the seventeenth century, Photograph
courtesy of Alinari/Art Resource, N. Y.

11.1 Head of Medusa, a painting by Michaelanglo de Carravaggio, now in the Uffizi gallery in
Florence. It has been variously dated at 1591,1592, 1597, and 1608 by different authorities. This paint-
ing inspired two poems on Medusa, one of them by Shelley. Photograph courtesy of Scala / Art
Resource, N.Y.
 198 The Solution

writhing snakes. A few free snakes wriggle nearby, as well, as if they were molt-
ing from the head. Rubens liked the Gorgon head so well that he later included
it as an allegorical representation o f Discord (in opposition to Hercules as
Heroic Virtue) on the walls of the banqueting hall at Whitehall.
Medusa continued to be portrayed, usually as a head on shields and arch-
ways, Benvenuto Cellini's bronze statue of Perseus holding the head of Me-
dusa (1546-54) is one of the most famous of mythology-themed statues. The
original is in Florence, but there are copies in the Hermitage, the Victoria and
Albert Museum in London, and the Banco di Roma.
John Milton evoked the image of Medusa's head in his 1634 masque Comus,
and (no doubt inspired by Virgil's Aeneid) he populated hell with Gorgons in
Paradise Lost. The story of Perseus, Medusa, and Andromeda inspired several
operas in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Before the year 1800 there
were more than twenty-five o f them with titles like Andromeda, Andromeda e
Perseo, Andromeda liberata, Persée, and Perseo. They featured elaborate effects and
machinery and were later embellished with ballet. One gets the impression
that these were the seventeenth-century equivalents of such special-effects
blockbusters as Star Wars. Francesco Manelli s 1637 Andromeda, for instance,
was the first opera to be staged before a paying public. It was underwritten by
Manelli himself, w h o may have used the effects as a way to help fill the house.
Perseus rides the winged horse Pegasus to rescue Andromeda, as he does in
some o f Ovid's poems and in Francisco Pacheco's 1603 painting Perseus. A hero
on a winged horse is surely more dramatic (and on stage, more visible) than a
hero with winged sandals.
Jean-Baptiste Lully's 1682 opera Persée doesn't feature as much machinery,
and the rescue of Andromeda takes place offstage, described by the chorus. But
it does include the spectacle of Perseus's being given his weapons by the gods,
along with the spectacular death of Medusa (a tenor), followed by the onstage
birth of monsters from her blood.
In Britain, the Gorgon returned to the stage in a different way. Based on
Virgil and Milton, the monster was seen as a symbol of hell and became a reg-
ular feature of stage hells. Too regular a feature, judging from Alexander Pope's
Dunciad:

He look'd, and saw a sable sorc'ror rise,

Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies;
All sudden, Gorgons hiss, and Dragons glare,
And ten-hornéd fiends and Giants rush to war.
Hell rises, Heav'n descends, and dance on Earth,
Gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth,
A fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball,
Till one wide Conflagration swallows all.1

The taxonomists o f the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries used their clas-
sical training in their Adamlike naming of the beasts. The multitentacled crea-
ture that could regenerate lost arms was named the Hydra, after the seven-
ri.3 Head of the Medusa, a painting by Peter Paul Rubens, now in the Kunsthistorisches
Museum in Vienna. It is believed to have been executed around 1617. Photograph courtesy of
Erich Lessing/Art Resource, N.Y.

11.4 Perseus Holding the Head

of Medusa, sculpture by
Benvenuto Cellini. Photograph
from Alinari/Art Resource, NT-
 200 The Solution

headed creature fought by Hercules that could grow two new heads in place
of each one that was chopped off. In a similar vein, the class of jellyfish was
christened Medusa, after the nemesis of Perseus w h o was now universally rep-
resented with snaky hair. The sting of the jellyfish no doubt influenced the
choice, being an appropriate counterpart to the petrifying glance of the
Gorgon. D u e to this bit of classically induced nomenclature, Meduse became
the French word for jellyfish in everyday language, and other Romance lan-
guages adopted the name. T h e ancient Roman words for jellyfish were pulmo
and halipleumon.
By the nineteenth century Medusa had become a common theme in art, and
the story was more widely know once again. Thomas Bulfinch s Mythology in-
troduced the Gorgon to a public not familiar with the original classics. Edward
Burne-Jones worked on a series o f paintings—not all of which were com-
pleted—depicting the cycle. Aubrey Beardsley produced his own drawing, pos-
sibly in parody of Bur ne Jones.
But there was another aspect to the revived interest in the old creature.
From the late eighteenth century until the end of the nineteenth, she was a fre-
quently used symbol of the Romantics, who saw her as the Dark Lady, a man-
ifestation of Death. "This glassy-eyed, severed female head," wrote Mario Praz
in The Romantic Agony (i960), "this horrible, fascinating Medusa, was to be the
object of the dark loves of the Romantics and the Decadents throughout the
whole of the century."
The twentieth century saw Perseus and Medusa painted by Paul KJee, John
Singer Sargent, and Pablo Picasso. Auguste Rodin worked the characters into
his bronze sculpture titled The Gates of Hell Medusa also appeared in more op-
eras and ballets and was the subject of a vast flowering of poems, some of
which we will look at in more detail a little further on.
In popular culture, the story was made familiar again by Edith Hamilton's
Mythology (1942), probably the most popular text on mythology for more than
half a century now. Every paperback edition for the past forty years has fea-
tured a photograph or drawing of Cellini's Perseus Holding the Severed Head of
Medusa, and the spine o f the hardcover edition's dust jacket features the head
o f Medusa as well. (My paperback edition of Bulfinch's Mythology also has, as
its sole decoration, the head of Medusa. She has evidently become one of the
most recognizable images o f Greek mythology.) Sir James George Frazer, w h o
did so many translations of Greek classics for the Loeb Classical Library, pro-
vided his own retelling o f the myth in "The Gorgon s Head: A Fantasia" in The
Gorgon's Head and Other Literary Pieces (1927).
Medusa and her story have become familiar to modern Americans largely,
I think, through Hamilton's and Bulfinch's books, supplemented by many
other popular recountings, especially in children's books. I know from my own
youth that the Gorgon was referred to frequently in comic books, including
Justice League of America, The Twilight Zone, and others. The Fantastic Four in-
troduced a character named Madame Medusa, who had prehensile hair. (A
companion of hers was called Gorgon, but he was a satyr-legged individual
w h o could stamp his feet with devastating effect. I think writer/editor Stan Lee
 The Gorgon Today 201

simply liked the sound of the name.) One reason for the popularity of the
Gorgon as a comic-book menace is that, like the disintegrator beams of science
fiction comics, it can destroy people without leaving bloody remains.
Charles Grandison Finney, a newspaper reporter w h o spent most of his life
in Arizona (aside from a two-year stint in China), wrote occasional short pieces
that mixed his southwestern US. and Chinese experiences with his broader in-
terests. One of the more interesting pieces was Tfte Circus of Doctor Lao, a 1935
book in which the titular enigmatic Chinese intellectual showman brings a
most unorthodox circus to the Arizona town of Abalone. In place of the usual
freaks and performers, the circus is filled with creatures from Greek mythol-
ogy, which the good doctor has captured in most un-Greek locales, such as
China. The Medusa he displays "is a Sonoran medusa from Northern Mex-
ico"!!), complete with native (though nonpoisonous) Mexican snakes for hair.
Lao provides his clientele with a mirror in which to view the Medusa to pre-
vent their petrification, but one w o m a n ducks past the ropes and is turned into
carnelian chalcedony.
Catherine L. Moore's first published story was "Shambleau." It first ap-
peared in the magazine Weird Tales in November 1933, and it proved to be a
strong opening for her writing career. Forty years later, when Moore was be-
ing introduced at the World Science Fiction Convention, an audience of two
thousand reacted with recognition of the name o f the story before Moore's
name was even mentioned. They knew her instantly as the author of "Sham-
bleau/' This story was the first of many featuring a hero with the unlikely name
of Northwest Smith, a tough interstellar frontiersman wandering through
newly colonized worlds that were envisioned as an extension of the western
frontiers. 2 The title character, apparently a lost and bewildered woman being
chased by an angry mob, is rescued by Smith. She is ultimately revealed to be
a sort were-creature, whose red hair metamorphoses into snaky locks. She then
seems to become a mass o f red tendrils, wrapping herself around Smith and
enrapturing him, draining out his "life force," vampirelike. Smith is saved by
his friend, Yarl, who is himself almost overcome by her hypnosis until he sees
a mirror on the wall. He fires his ray gun at the reflection, killing the sham
bleau. Moore's evocation of the Gorgon was conscious, underscored twice in
the story itself. Her portrayal of the creature is not unsympathetic, although
clearly it is a dangerous being.
Curiously, the Gorgon has not been widely used in science fiction and fan-
tasy. The only other explicit example I know o f is Tanith Lee's short story "The
Gorgon" (1983, reprinted in The Gorgon and Other Beastly Tales [1985]). In this
tale, a young English vacationer swims to a privately owned Greek isle, said to
harbor a Gorgon. He finds the owner o f the island wearing a mask, which she
never removes. He stays with her a while, then grows bold and asks about the
mask. The lady removes it, and he sees that her face has been frozen into a
Gorgon mask—the result o f a fit and nerve damage, she explains, But with that
explanation, their conversation ends. He comes to realize that she has con-
tempt for those, like himself, w h o need not struggle against such a deformity,
and he feels himself belittled, petrified, by comparison. 3
 202 The Solution

One would have thought that the Gorgon, so recognizable and unusual an
image, would have soon found itself immortalized in an art form that special-
izes in presenting such memorable creatures. But the Gorgon was kept off the
motion picture screen by the very features that helped to make it a success in
popular culture. That crown of snakes, so easy to render in paintings, sketches,
and sculpture, defies most efforts to render it in motion. One would have
thought that at least this would be an easy thing to animate, but for some rea-
son the Gorgon has not attracted much interest in that quarter. She has, so far
as I can tell, appeared on screen only five times.
T h e first appearance was extremely unorthodox—a Warner Brothers car-
toon entitled Porky's Hero Agency, released December 4,1937. The director was
Bob Clampett and the animator Charles M. ("Chuck") Jones. (Porky Pig was
the big cartoon star for Warner Brothers at the time, Bugs Bunny arguably hav-
ing not been invented yet.) In the film, Porky falls asleep while reading a book
on mythology and dreams that he is a Greek hero, "Porkykarkus," w h o has
"nothin' to do but slay monsters and rescue damsels." He has wings on his feet,
à la Perseus and Mercury, and a schedule of fees for different feats of derring-
do. 4
The emperor sends for Porky and tells him that a Gorgon has been devas-
tating the kingdom, turning his subjects into stone, and he enlists Porky's aid
in getting rid of the menace. He's able to get a unanimous vote on this action,
because his council has been turned entirely to stone. But the emperor has
hooked all their arms up to a string so that, by pulling it, he can get them to
salute him in unison.
The Gorgon is an old hag w h o turns people to stone with her magic cam-
era. She also has a magic needle that, injected into one of these stone statues,
can return it to life. Her workshop is crowded with examples of her handiwork,
among which are the Three Stooges petrified as the Three Wise Monkeys and
a fence made out of caricatures of the Warner Brothers animators. W h e n
Porky comes upon her she is unsuccessfully trying to petrify a human pyramid
of acrobats (they keep petrifying as a real Egyptian pyramid, and she has to de-
petrifying them with her needle and begin over again). Porky steals the needle
and begins restoring statues. Some of the statues were never "real" to begin
with, and as a result the Venus de Milo (with Popeye arms) and the Discus
Thrower both come to life. Even an arch is given life and stumps away on its
two "legs." But the Gorgon finally catches up with Porky and tries to make him
look at her, at which point he awakes to find that his mother is the one trying
to get him to open his eyes.
George Pal, a filmmaker originally from Hungary, established himself in the
United States with his "Puppetoons" animated features. He moved on to live-
action films, specializing in fantasy and science fiction. In the 1950s and 1960s
he produced and often directed such films as The War of the Worlds, The Time
Machine, Destination Moon, The Conquest of Space, and The Wonderful World of the
Brothers Grimm. In 1964 he brought Charles Finney's novel to the screen as The
Seven Faces of Doctor Lao, serving as both producer and director. The film
starred Tony Randall as the Doctor (and in several other roles). The screenplay
 The Gorgon Today 203

was written by Charles Beaumont, a noted author of fantasy short stories and
one of the more prolific writers of scripts for the television series The Twilight
Zone.
Finney's b o o k doesn't have a plot so much as it has a mood; it is not much
more than a series o f expositions, and its appeal derives from Finney's odd
treatment o f these mythological creatures—dropped inexplicably into a mod-
ern setting, described in nonmystical terms—and the reaction they get from
the townspeople. Doctor Lao is less a protagonist than simply the focus of the
story, and his character doesn't develop—it mutates. He alternates with won-
derful inconsistency between a stage-comic Chinaman and a professorial lec-
turer speaking perfect English. The effect is either greatly entertaining or pro-
foundly annoying. In either case, this is not a traditional narrative, and Charles
Beaumont labored mightily to whip the unwieldy novel into dramatic form.
The effect displeased fans of the book.
Beaumont chose to tell the stories of a select group of people from the
book, focusing on the way their encounters with the circus changed their lives.
In particular, the spotlight is on villain Arthur O'Connell, w h o is attempting to
buy out the entire town of Abalone because (as only he knows) a railroad is
scheduled to g o through soon, at which time land values will increase astro-
nomically O'Connell and his two goons try to squelch the opposition of the
new editor of the local paper (John Ericson). In the end, the bad guy sees the
error o f his ways and 'fesses up, but not before he has numerous encounters
with the strange and bizarre.
Finney's well-populated circus has been reduced to six attractions, none of
which is seen at the same time as Doctor Lao. The implication is that the
Doctor himself is impersonating each of the six: Merlin the magician, Apollo-
nius of Tyana as a blind soothsayer, Pan, the Abominable Snowman, a serpent,
and Medusa. The implied identity is helped along by the fact that Randall him-
self plays the characters of Merlin, Apollonius, Pan, and Medusa. (The serpent
is alternately "played" by a puppet snake and by an articulated figure animated
by Jim Danforth. Both versions intentionally resemble Arthur O'Connell.
Randall reportedly did not want to get into the heavy costume and mask of the
Abominable Snowman.) This list differs somewhat from Finney's novel—the
blind soothsayer is combined with the (historical, and nonblind) Apollonius of
Tyana. Apollonius, w h o had a reputation as a wonder worker, was apparently
thought to be too obscure to modern audiences, so the office of magician that
Apollonius filled in the novel was taken by Merlin, w h o does not appear in
Finney's book. T h e obscure bear or Russian character has metamorphosed into
the Abominable Snowman.
Our interest here, of course, is the Medusa, w h o is played as a severe-fea-
tured woman with a headdress of snakes. Despite Pals love of animation (and
animator Jim Danforth's work in this film), Medusa is played by Randall wear-
ing a headdress of rubber snakes. It helps that the character is seen only in a
mirror or in quick cuts, and that the rubber snakes vibrate in a motion that, un-
der such circumstances, looks believable.
As in the book, a woman ducks around the curtain to prove the Gorgon a
 204 The Solution

fake, but instead proves the opposite when she is turned to stone. Unlike her
fate in the book, however, she does not remain in that state. Merlin steps in and
demonstrates that, despite his poor performance at the magic show, he really
is a good magician when he revives the petrified woman. In twentieth-century
pop culture, even petrification need not be forever.
The first film to try to tell anything like the story of Perseus and Medusa
was the Italian production Perseo VInvincibile (Perseus the Invincible), which was
released in the United States as Medusa against the Son of Hercules. Clearly there
is something wrong with Perseuss being called the "son" of his own great-
grandson. To anyone at all familiar with the real story of Perseus, this film is
filled with the most unbelievable howlers, I am going to take a closer look than
one might think the film is worth, and for a good reason, as I hope I will make
clear. In the meantime, I will cite (as T. H. White did in his wonderful transla-
tion, The Bestiary) Alexander Ross's 1652 bestseller, Arcana Microcosmi: "And as
dutifull Children let us cover the Nakednesse of our Fathers with the Cloke of
a favourable Interpretation."
At the opening of the film, the people of Seriphos, which is here presented
as an inland city, are being oppressed by the people o f the rival city Argos. The
Seriphaens have no access to the sea, the only routes being cut off by the moun-
tains, the Swamp Dragon, the Valley of the Medusa, or the Argives. The
Argives hope to starve the Seriphaens into surrender. The prince of Seriphos
tries to run the blockade on the road, but his men are beaten back. Some fall
victim to the Swamp Dragon. Finally, the prince and his followers find them-
selves in the Valley of the Medusa—realized here as a treelike creature with a
single huge, insistently glowing eye—and are turned to stone.
The rulers o f Argos, King Croesus(!) and Prince Gallinor, are hated by their
o w n subjects and must rule with an iron hand. Years ago Croesus had secretly
killed the reigning king and married the queen, Danae(!!), thereby becoming a
combination of Claudius from Hamlet and Acrisius from the original myth. At
the time, Danae's son Perseus was spirited away and is believed dead. Neverthe-
less, a prophecy has foretold that Perseus will kill Gallinor.
Through their agents in Seriphos, Croesus and Gallinor have let it be known
that they will open the road to the sea if the Seriphaen princess, Andromeda,
will consent to marry Gallinor. The prospective bride and groom are officially
introduced at a hunting party. Gallinor shoots a deer, but a commoner appears,
claiming the shot was his. The commoner is, of course, Perseus, although no
one knows it is he, and he is himself unaware of his true birth. Gallinor fights
Perseus and defeats him, but he is restrained from killing his opponent by
Andromeda, w h o says that it is not the custom to kill an unarmed man. She
proposes that they all return to Seriphos for a proper duel and says she will
marry the winner.
During the preliminaries Gallinor shows himself to be evil and stealthy, con-
trasted with the nobility and generosity of Perseus. Although the fighting at
first goes against Perseus, he eventually overcomes Gallinor, but does not slay
him. Gallinor recognizes Perseus by a birthmark. Perseus refuses both the hand
of Andromeda and any claim to rule Seriphos, insisting that Argos is his coun-
 The Gorgon Today 205

try. Nevertheless, Perseus is made captain of the Seriphaen Guard. He offers to

escort Gallinor back to Argos and to plead the case of Seriphos there.
As Perseus enters the city of Argos, Queen Danae recognizes her son.
Perseus returns Gallinor and asks Croesus to reopen the trade routes to
Seriphos. Later, in private, Croesus rebukes Gallinor for showing cowardice in
front of Perseus. Gallinor tells Croesus about the birthmark. Perseus, in the
meantime, has been summoned by the queen, w h o dresses his wounds and
tells him of his birthright. Gallinor breaks in and tries to shoot Perseus with an
arrow, but Danae steps between them and is killed. Perseus escapes through
the window.
In the countryside he organizes a band of Argive rebels. They attack the
army of Argos, but are defeated and scattered. During the battle they approach
too near the swamp, and the monster attacks the men of both armies. Perseus
battles the dragon and defeats it underwater, but he is thought to have been
killed in the battle.
Seizing the moment, Croesus and Gallinor march on Seriphos. Perseus ral-
lies the remaining Argive forces but realizes that they are too few to challenge
Croesus. To augment their numbers, he decides to fight the Medusa. Once the
monster is killed, the petrified men w h o were its victims will return to life and,
he hopes, help him defeat the Argives.
Perseus makes his way into the valley and searches out the Medusa. True to
the myth, he looks only in his highly polished shield. He doesn't try to decap-
itate the monster—the treelike monster doesn't really have a neck, and an ax
would really be a more appropriate weapon than a sword. Instead, he attacks
its great, single, petrifying eye, slashing it open. Ichor pours out, and the mon-
ster expires in an untreelike heap. The petrified men awake andjoin forces with
Perseus, and together they defeat the Argives, killing Croesus and Gallinor.
Perseus weds Andromeda and becomes king of Argos.
W h y do it? W h y change the story so completely? Surely the reason is that
the story of Perseus, as it has come down to us from Apollodorus, is not ap-
propriate for the modern screen. "God writes lousy theater," said playwright
Peter Stone (quoting an unnamed fellow author). He was defending the liber-
ties he'd taken in writing the book for the musical 1776. One might paraphrase
the quote as "The gods write lousy theater' 1 in order to extend the realm to that
of mythology. None of the classical myths has made its way unaltered to the
popular screen.
Consider the events of the Perseus myth: After an exciting start, in which
Acrisius tries to prevent the birth of Perseus, then tosses Perseus and Danae
into the Mediterranean, there is a lull of several years. Perseus grows up, then,
for no good reason, makes a rash v o w and is forced to hunt and kill the Gorgon.
He gets too much magical help from Hermes, Athena, and the Nymphs. His
first real actions are to steal an eye from some virtually blind women, then to
decapitate a sleeping female monster. None of this looks very heroic to a mod-
ern audience. In fact, it appears downright cowardly. Perseus redeems himself
by rescuing a princess from a sea monster, which is a properly heroic thing to
do. The treachery of Cepheus and Cassiopeia leaves a bad taste in the mouth,
 206 The Solution

however, Perseus's final triumph comes as the result of an orgy of destruc-

tion—he defeats and kills (or petrifies) Ketos (in some versions), Cepheus,
Cassiopeia, Phineas, and their followers. Then he does the same to Polydektes
and his followers, Finally, Acrisius gets his comeuppance from a misthrown dis-
cus. The death of Acrisius brings closure to the myth but doesn't seem to be
related very well to the exciting and interesting Graiae, Gorgons, sea monsters,
and magic weapons. It looks almost as if it wandered in from another myth.
Faced with such scattershot material and its occasionally unheroic hero,
what is a scriptwriter to do? The issue goes beyond the difficulty of weaving a
coherent narrative out of many plot strands or of presenting Perseus in a
heroic light. The story must also look good on film. Aeschylus and Euripides
could get away with having choruses describe the action and actors fill in gaps
in the story But the strength of the motion picture is its ability to show action,
and a good director will show it in an interesting way Jean-Baptiste Lully
rewrote the myth so that his opera could include a series of magical births on
stage (such showy stagework being one of the strengths of opera). In the same
spirit, director Alberto de Matino brought onto his stage a Gorgon and a sea
monster, hiring hydraulic and mechanical expert Carlo Rambaldi to accom-
plish the task. (Rambaldi would later become known for his work on the 1976
remake of King Kong and for providing the mechanical alien head for Ridley
Scott's 1979 movie Alien.) The plot of the original myth was hopeless, so it was
jettisoned and a new story woven out of a few remnants of the old—Perseus
and Danae are still there, along with the Gorgon, the sea monster (relegated,
however, to a swamp, where it would be easier to work), Acrisius (with his
name shortened to Croesus, although that may simply be due to the transla-
tors), and Andromeda. A single dramatic situation is needed, so the war be-
tween Seriphos and Argos is born, although it requires a drastic rearrangement
of geography. The sea monster and Medusa both have a place as menaces to
Seriphos, and the promise of revivifying the petrified men gives Perseus a rea-
son for going after the Gorgon and killing it. The needs of the motion picture
medium—like the needs of the Athenian stage, the Greek vase painting, the
dramatic poem, and the Paris opera stage—have effected a change in the story.
Those needs, it s true, could probably have been met without doing so much
violence to the plot of the myth. It's a little surprising that Italian moviegoers
tolerated such heavy tampering.
Much of the supernatural element has also been deleted. The monsters
themselves, the petrifying eye of the Gorgon, the prediction that Perseus
would be the death of Croesus—these are extraordinary and wondrous ele-
ments. But the gods are absent from the story, as are the Graiae. Perseus is not
declared to be the son of Zeus; there is no miraculous shower of gold leading
to his conception; he and Danae are not cast adrift in a chest. Perseus receives
no gifts from Athena or Hermes, and he kills the Medusa without anyone guid-
ing his hand. He's a secular humanist mythological hero.
Considering all that, it's a wonder the filmmakers bothered to retain the
names Perseus, Medusa, etc. The American distributors even twisted mythol-
ogy to make Perseus the son of his own grandson, Hercules.5 Considering how
 The Gorgon Today 207

little of the core story remains, w h y not simply toss out the names of Perseus
and Medusa and simply call the movie Maciste against the Tree Monster? That
would have made as much sense.
I think the reason for the lack of even more tampering is that public knowl-
edge of the myth of Perseus is too well entrenched. Thus the film's story de-
spite its many changes, remained essentially the story o f Perseus and would
have been recognized as such. It is a little scary to realize that this effort was
the closest the screen had come to portraying the myth of Perseus. Still, the
movie does illustrate my point about how the requirements and limitations of
a medium profoundly affect the story it tells. T h e need to reshape the story to
make Perseus a real hero and to bring a more traditional motion-picture nar-
rative structure to the plot, along with the need to adapt the story to the limi-
tations of contemporary special effects, were responsible for Medusa against the
Son of Hercules.
The next attempt to bring the Gorgon to the screen abandoned the tradi-
tional myth entirely and tried to tell a new story Hammer Films had found suc-
cess by remaking horror films for a new generation of moviegoers. Unlike their
predecessors of the 1930s and 1940s, these movies featured color, fast-paced ac-
tion, and sex appeal in the form of décolletage. Having remade Frankenstein,
Dracula, The Phantom of the Opera, and The Mummy, then performing several
variations on the themes, Hammer Films was looking for new creatures to fea-
ture. One result was the 1964 film The Gorgon, with a screenplay b y j o h n Gilling,
from a story by j. Llewellyn Devine. Terence Fisher, experienced at Hammer's
horror line, directed.
T h e story is set in a Bavarian Ruritania called Vandorf, rather than in Greece.
People begin turning into stone after glimpsing something in the abandoned
Castle Borski. T h e petrification in this case is gradual instead of instantaneous,
so the victims are able to make it back to town before they are completely im-
mobilized, and people begin to wonder. Peter Cushing plays Dr. Namaroff,
w h o tries to perform autopsies on the fresh statues, aided by nurse Carla
Hoffman (Barbara Shelley). Christopher Lee plays Professor Meister of Leip-
zig, who arrives to try to solve the mystery of his son's death. (The son's fiancée
had been lithified, and the son, suspected of somehow being responsible for
this, hanged himself.) The local authorities resent the intrusion. Eventually, it
is learned that a local legend tells of three Gorgons named Medusa, Tisiphone,
and Megaera. 6 The first two had been killed(!), but Megaera is still at large, hav-
ing fled, for some reason, to Vandorf.
It develops that the spirit of Megaera has inhabited the body of Carla
Hoffman, causing her to turn into a full-blown Gorgon during nights of the
full moon—another case of the twentieth-century phenomenon of the were-
Gorgon, and the closest it comes to the Hollywood version of the werewolf.
Hoffman is unaware of her transformations, but Dr. Namaroff knows and has
been covering up for her. In the climactic scene at Castle Borski, Dr. Namaroff
is petrified, and Dr. Meister decapitates the Gorgon with a conveniently handy
sword before she can affect anyone else. The decapitated head reverts to that
of Carla Hoffman.
 208 The Solution

The movie is a mess. It has atmosphere, but little logic. It s never clear why
people are doing the things they do, and there is little substance or point to the
plot. The attempt to switch locales from Greece to Germany doesn't really
work. Charles Finney was able to pull off the trick of placing the Gorgon out-
side her country of origin, but Hammer seems to have moved the myth to the
familiar stomping grounds of Frankenstein for no good reason. Carla Hoffman
is surely the most victimized screen Gorgon ever. Actress Shelley has stated that
she thought the Gorgon should have been performed by an actress wearing a
headdress of real snakes, and that she would have been willing to do that. Had
this been done, she said, the film would have been far more effective. As it was,
the Gorgon was costumed using rubber snakes, which proved far less effective
than those in The Seven Faces of Doctor Lao. Barbara Shelley did not even play
the Gorgon, a role that was filled by a woman with the unbelievable name of
Prudence Hyman. In the end, it's hard to believe that using real snakes would
have saved this film. It would have been more interesting to watch, but the
script really doesn't give the actors much to work with.
The Gorgon films of the 1970s are very obscure. This is surprising, consid-
ering the caliber of artists w h o worked on them. Harry Kumel's 1972 film
Malpertuis, for instance, starred Orson Welles as the dying Cassavius, w h o has
trapped some Greek gods in the modern day by imprisoning them in human
skins. Susan Hampshire plays a Gorgon who turns into stone a sailor (Mathieu
Carrière) who has fallen in love with her. The Belgian / French / German film
had a very limited release.
The next film was made in the style of Disney's 1940 film Fantasia; it had no
spoken dialogue, but featured animated stories set to music. Instead of the clas-
sical pieces used in the Disney film, however, Takashi's Metamorphoses (1978)
used works by Joan Bacz, the Pointer Sisters, the Rolling Stones, and other con-
temporary artists. As the movie s title implies, the stories were drawn from
O v i d s p o e m — a prologue, followed by the stories o f Actaeon, Mercury and
Herse, Perseus and Medusa, and Orpheus and Eurydice. A fifth segment telling
the story of Echo and Narcissus was excised from the film's final cut. The ani-
mation staff featured many artists w h o had worked on some of the classic
Disney animated films from the forties, including Fantasia—among them Nino
Carbe, Ray Patterson, Robert Carlson, and Edwin Aardal. Several other Disney
animators were involved, as well as contemporary comic artists like Mike
Ploog. Many of the preproduction sketches and animation samples are beau-
tiful.
So why haven't you heard of this movie? Today it is even more obscure than
Malpertuis. Unlike that film, though, Metamorphoses remains unavailable on
videotape and is not even listed in such compendia of obscure films as Michael
Weldon's Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film. (It has been released once on video-
tape, but as of this writing it is not "in print" anywhere.) The film was in re-
lease for only about a week before it closed. It was never reviewed in any ma-
jor newspapers or national magazines. Despite its artistic pedigree, it did not
live up to its potential—the songs are second-rate, the sound quality poor, and
the animation frequently falls to the poor level of jerky made-for-TV cartoons.
 The Gorgon Today 209

Because the story lines were not very clear, voice-over narration by Peter
Ustinov was added, and the result is not very satisfying. T h e fatal flaw was prob-
ably the use of t w o extremely cute child characters—one male, one female—as
the leads in all four segments. With their huge heads and huge eyes, these tykes
may have been acceptable in Japan, but Americans found them too cloying.
Perhaps now, with the growing interest in Japanese Anime, the film would do
better if re-released.
T h e Perseus segment is drawn from Ovid, of course, but with some
changes. Perseus is sent by his king to get the head of Medusa. He helps an old
man, w h o turns out to be Mercury, w h o gives him the winged sandals and the
helmet of invisibility. He helps an old woman, w h o is revealed as Minerva, w h o
gives him a shield. He steals the eye of the three Graiae (not two, as in Ovid)
and learns the way to the island of the Gorgons. He finds the three sisters, w h o
appear to be beautiful, until they see Perseus. They then turn into Gorgons
(were-Gorgons again). Perseus avoids looking at them by making use of the
mirrorlike shield and cuts off the head of Medusa. Pegasus (but not Chrysaor)
is born of her blood.
Malpertuis and Metamorphoses may have been the victims of poor distribu-
tion, but even with better distribution efforts, The Gorgon and Medusa against
the Son of Hercules were not well-known films. O f those listed above, only The
Seven Faces of Doctor Lao made any kind of impression on the public con-
sciousness. T h e next film to take on the Medusa story, however, was heavily
backed and promoted and featured many big-name stars. I suspect that most
people today w h o are aware o f the story of Perseus and Medusa owe their
knowledge to the 1981 film Clash of the Titans. Although competently directed
by Desmond Davis and written by Beverley Cross, Clash of the Titans is first and
foremost a Ray Harryhausen film. Harryhausen is neither an actor nor a pro-
ducer, but the director of special effects. To a large degree, he is the special
effects. Harryhausen is the leading dimensional animator alive today.
Dimensional animation is the process of bringing a character to life on
screen by constructing an elaborate model with a flexible internal armature,
then placing this on a miniature stage and moving it by increments from frame
to frame. This is a far different and far more demanding process than "eel" an-
imation or the more recent computer animation, because the work is placed
almost entirely in the hands o f one worker, w h o virtually cannot stop during
the production of each scene. In order for the motion to appear as natural and
fluid as possible, the animator must remember not only the direction in which
each joint is moving, but also its acceleration. The process is daunting enough
with a human figure, with its arms, legs, hands, fingers, head, and torso. It is
much more complex when the figure is the Hydra from Jason and the Argonauts,
with its seven heads on snakelike necks and its two tails. (Harryhausen and
Cross fused the monster fought by Hercules with the dragon w h o guarded the
Golden Fleece to create a more visually interesting foe.)
Critics have dismissed this sort of animation as "kitsch," but I note that
Harryhausen often brings to life figures very similar to those in the Greek vase
paintings. I think of it more as a modern analogue to the Japanese art of
 210 TJteSoiwiioH

Bunraku, that intricate puppetry form wherein several puppeteers, clad in

black, manipulate elaborate puppets to tell traditional stories. The black suits
are, like the helmet o f Hades, supposed to confer invisibility 7 In the case of di-
mensional animation, the process of photographing the model provides its
own sort of invisibility. Harryhausen's models are puppets without visible
strings, and Harryhausen the truly unseen puppeteer. Veteran viewers can
identify his work by the very way the characters move.
My brief description above does not convey the range of effects used to
bring Harryhausens animated creations onstage and have them interact with
human actors. An entire repertoire of techniques is used, including mattes, rear
projection, and miniaturized rear projection. Artistic distractions and misdi-
rections are also employed to direct the viewer's eye where the animator wants
it. The scenes are carefully crafted.
Harryhausen has always sought, understandably, to create situations that re-
quire his brand of animation and to use visually interesting figures. Often the
script for one of his pictures has been written after the storyboards showing
the figures and effects were already drawn. It's not surprising, then, that in
Clash of the Titans some liberties were taken with the story As had happened
before, Perseus was mounted on Pegasus rather than traveling via the flying
slippers, since a winged horse is far more visually interesting than funny shoes.
A two-headed (rather than three-headed) Cerberus guards the island of
Medusa. In place of the very human suitor Phineus to oppose Perseus for the
hand of Andromeda, there is the monstrously deformed Calibos(!), who has a
giant vulture as one of his servants. The sea monster, here called the Kraken(H),
and Medusa herself are imagined as very different creatures from any previous
representations, ancient or modern.
Nevertheless, the essential story sticks closer to its sources than any other
interpretation. Screenwriter Beverley Cross was an Oxford scholar in history
before he worked as an assistant to David Lean and Robert Bolt on the epic film
Lawrence of Arabia. He went on to co-write Harry hausen's 1963 film Jason and
the Argonauts, then wrote several more screenplays for Harryhausen and for
Columbia Studios. He claimed to have been inspired to write Perseus and the
Gorgon's Head (the original title on the Titans screenplay) in 1969 while living
on the Greek island of Skiathos, which he said "was very close to Seriphos" (it
isn't).
Cross did far less violence to the myth of Perseus than had Mario Guerra
and Luciano Martino in Medusa against the Son of Hercules. Many of the changes
involve only names. The fantastic element has also been strengthened, gener-
ally with an eye toward creating an impressive photographic shot.
The film begins with Acrisius and his soldiers sealing Danae and the infant
Perseus into the chest and tossing them into the sea. The act is witnessed by
Hermes in the form of a seagull. Hermes flies to Olympus, where he reports
what he has seen to the assembled g o d s — Z e u s (Laurence Olivier, in one of his
last roles), Thetis (Maggie Smith, the wife of screenwriter Cross), Hera (Claire
Bloom), Aphrodite (Ursula Andress), and Athena (Susan Fleetwod). Zeus is
outraged and orders Poseidon to release the last of the Titans, the Kraken, to
 The Gorgon Today 211

destroy Acrisius and the entire city of Argos, which assented to the crime.
Poseidon duly frees the beast from its underwater cage, and the monster
(which looks like a four-armed, lithe sea ape with a fish's tail) sends a tidal wave
that engulfs and destroys Argos. Zeus crushes a small terra-cotta statue of
Acrisius, and the real Acrisius crumples and dies along with his city.
This minor rearrangement of the myth serves several dramatic purposes.
Acrisius gets his comeuppance immediately bringing a sense of closure to the
misdeed that seems too long postponed in Apollodorus's version. It sets the
stage for the threatened destruction of Cepheus's c i t y j o p p a , by showing what
fate awaits it. And it gives us a glimpse of the sea monster and Harryhausen's
excellent effects in the destruction o f the city. At the same time, it shows active
involvement by the gods (in contrast to the other Perseus film), especially Zeus.
On the other hand, the intermixing of mythologies is already evident. The
name of the sea monster Ketos / Cetus has been changed to the Kraken, a term
that Cross found in Alfred Lord Tennyson's p o e m "The Kraken Wakes." The
Kraken, often described as a creature from Norse mythology is actually much
more modern than that—it was first mentioned by the Swedish archbishop
Olaus Magnus (whom w e met in Chapter 5) in the sixteenth century. In 1802
Denys de Montford pictured it as a giant octopus or squid that attacked ships,
which is how the Kraken in usually interpreted. (Harryhausen had already
brought such a giant octopus to the screen in his 1955 film It Camefrom Beneath
the Sea.) Ketos was not a Titan, nor was Medusa (as Cross's script later describes
her); the Titans were the children of Uranus and Gaia (Mother Earth and
Father Sky), w h o were also the parents of the Olympian gods. I suspect that
Ketos/Kraken and Medusa were made Titans by courtesy so that the movie
could be titled Clash of the Titans, which has more panache than Perseus and the
Gorgon's Head.
While all the destruction is going on in Argos, the chest containing Perseus
and Danae drifts ashore at Seriphos. T h e two land safely, and Perseus grows up
on the island under circumstances that are glossed over. Poiydektes and Diktys
are absent in this version, and no one lusts after Danae. Instead, after a few
scenes that show Danae mothering Perseus, she disappears from the picture.
Zeus approvingly watches Perseus grow to young manhood (when he is played
by Harry Hamlin) and neatly shelves the terra-cotta figure of him. Thetis asks
about her son, Calibos. Zeus replies that Calibos must be punished, since he
has proven himself destructive. He has killed all of the race of winged horses
except Pegasus(!) and has otherwise disgraced himself. Z e u s takes down
Calibos's terra-cotta figure and metamorphoses it into a horned, pan-footed,
tailed figure. (Calibos seems to be the character of Phineas—from the version
of the story told by Apollodorus—turned grotesque, because, before this
transformation, he was Andromeda's suitor. T h e name is obviously inspired by
another non-Greek source, Shakespeare's The Tempest, in which Caliban is the
monster/native of Prospero's island.)8 Calibos retires to a swamp, along with
a gang of henchmen.
Thetis, angry that her son should be treated this way while Zeus's son
Perseus is exalted, wants to take revenge but is stymied by Zeus's protection of
 212 The Solution

the boy. The worst she can do is to transport him magically to the Phoenician
city of Joppa in his sleep, thereby advancing the plot. Thetis s major role as a
goddess in this film is quite out of line with her position in mythology Here
she seems more important than Hera, Aphrodite, or Athena. You need only
look at her role in The Iliad to see the glaring differences. Cross's purpose in
making her so powerful becomes clear later on.
Perseus is awakened by an imposing masked figure asking who he is.
Perseus replies that he does not even know where he is. At this, the theatrical
figure whips off its clay mask and is revealed as Ammon (Burgess Meredith), a
playwright and actor. Ammon seems to have been inspired by the fifth-century
B.C.E. poet Simonides—he admits to having written (like Simonides) a poem
about Perseus and Danae being cast adrift. He also serves as a voice for ex-
plaining the plot of the myth. (1 suspect that there's a lot of Beverley Cross in
Ammon.) Ammon takes in the displaced and disoriented youth.
Zeus, learning of Thetis's action, demands that Perseus be given proper
weapons. At his command, Perseus is furnished with a magical sword, the hel-
met of invisibility and a highly polished shield (which, the voice of Zeus in-
forms him, will one day save his life). Perseus takes the gifts and sets off for the
city of Joppa, which is a huge city of gleaming white marble, decorated with
Babylonian man-bulls. Despite the lively trade conducted in the marketplace,
the city is under a curse. Calibos is the source of it ail. Since he cannot wed the
princess Andromeda, he has declared that no one will until a prospective suitor
can answer a riddle that he has given Andromeda. The riddle changes with each
suitor, and anyone who fails to answer correctly is immolated.
Perseus uses his helmet of invisibility to enter the princess's chamber at
night and sees her spirit being carried away in a cage by Calibos s pet vulture.
Realizing that he needs the ability to fly in order to follow, Perseus consults
with Ammon, who suggests that they capture and tame Pegasus. They go to
the spring where Pegasus drinks. They are not aided, as Bellerophon was, by a
magic bridle from Athena. Instead, Perseus slips on the helmet of invisibility
and uses a very non-Greek lasso to capture the flying horse and to tame it.
The next night he follows the vulture on Pegasus, eventually coming to
Calibos's swamp. Andromeda has been brought there to learn a new rid-
dle. Calibos (played, in close-up shots, by Neil McCarthy under very heavy
makeup) asks Andromeda once again to remember him as he was and to marry
him. Andromeda, in turn, asks Calibos to lift the curse from the city. He refuses
and gives her the new riddle. As she leaves, Calibos notices Perseus's footprints
and follows him. When Perseus takes off his helmet, Calibos attacks. Perseus
loses the helmet in the swamp, and the struggle continues.
The next day Perseus shows up at the royal palace of Cepheus and Cassio-
peia and offers to solve the riddle. He succeeds, of course, answering that the
riddle is a poetic description of the ring of Calibos, and throws the severed hand
of Calibos, still bearing the ring, at their feet. He has let the monster live in ex-
change for lifting the curse.
While the city rejoices, Calibos asks his mother Thetis to grant him revenge.
Their chance comes the next day when, announcing the wedding of Perseus
 The Gorgon Today 213

and Andromeda, Cassiopeia says that her daughter is more beautiful than
Thetis. Thetis is angered, and the head falls from her colossal statue. T h e eyes
open, and the goddess announces that because of this immoderate statement,
the princess must be sacrificed to the Kraken within thirty days, or else Joppa
will be destroyed, like Argos.
This is the reason that Thetis has been made much more important than she
ought to be; her anger and sentence of death on Andromeda provides the real
dynamic for the story "In the original myths everything happens without char-
acter motivation," explained Cross in an interview. "You'll see Perseus flying
over Joppa and suddenly he sees this girl chained to a rock. All I've done is make
him go get the Gorgon's head because he knows she is going to be chained to
the rock."
There is no question, in this version, of Perseus killing the monster with
rocks or his sword. He despairs until A m m o n , again, suggests a course of ac-
tion. The Stygian witches might know how to defeat the Kraken. The t w o men,
accompanied by Andromeda, begin their journey to find the witches. (In this
movie alone, Andromeda escapes the narrow limitations of a stereotypical
damsel in distress. As written by Cross and played by Judi Bowker, she is a
strong-willed and independent woman.) Along the way they encounter an odd,
mechanical bird. Zeus has ordered Athena to give Perseus her owl, Bubo, as a
gift to replace the lost helmet of invisibility Athena refuses, substituting a me-
chanical owl constructed by Hephaestus. The mechanical Bubo is one of the
disappointing elements of this film. Obviously inspired by Star Wars' R2-D2
(the owl "speaks" in hoots and whistles that only Perseus can understand), it
looks more than a little silly. In fact, it makes Clash of the Titans difficult to
watch.
The party moves on to the cave of the witches. These are, of course, the
Graiae. Their appearance in this film seems to be derived from Roman
Polansky's interpretation of Macbeth. As in that film, the three gather around
a bubbling cauldron containing human parts (one of which tries to escape).
The eyes of the actresses are obscured by latex appliances (as with the eldest
witch in Polansky's film). They see by holding up the Eye—a crystal ball—to
their foreheads. They try to lure Perseus into their lair, hoping to add him to
the brew, but Bubo flies in and steals the Eye, which Perseus then offers to re-
turn in exchange for information about how to destroy the Kraken. The
witches tell him he must obtain the head of the Gorgon, with which he can
petrify the Kraken. Perseus tosses the Eye back into the cave (not into Lake
Tritonis), and escapes.
Perseus and his men push on. Andromeda returns to Joppa, dutifully insist-
ing on being sacrificed, if need be, to protect the city. Perseus and his com-
panions come to the River Styx and hail the boatman, Charon, a (nonanimated)
skeleton in a cloak, w h o poles the boat over to the Island of the Dead, where
Medusa lives. Once there, they find the temple surrounded by weathered stat-
ues, the remains of those w h o have already tried to kill Medusa. Also guarding
the place is a two-headed dog, w h o is quickly dispatched.
Inside the temple-home of Medusa, the atmosphere is dark, lit by low fires.
 214 The Solution

T h e columns are painted in dark, zigzag lines. Medusa is an interesting creation

w h o resembles her representations in art but also possesses original features.
She has the by-now characteristic head covered with snakes, which for once are
coiling and writhing in proper Gorgon fashion. Her face is that of a woman,
but covered with snakelike, scaly skin. She scowls, but her tongue does not pro-
trude, nor does she have fangs. The scaly skin continues down her body. Below
the waist she has the body of an immense snake, like that of Cecrops, but ter-
minating in the coils of an American rattlesnake. The general look is a
modification of the snake-woman harem dancer from Harryhausen s 1959 film
The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad. The best touch, however, is that Medusa is made
to seem menacing aside from her petrifying glance. She carries a bow and has
a quiver slung over her shoulder, and she is no mean archer. So Perseus and his
companions cannot simply turn around and approach her by looking in their
shields.
The result is a moody and interesting sequence, in which Perseus and his
companions dodge around pillars and petrified men as they attempt to get the
drop on Medusa, w h o is hunting them with arrows nocked on the bow. (There
are no other Gorgons, As in Ovid's version o f the tale, Medusa is a mortal
woman w h o has been turned into a monster by a jealous Athena.) One by one
the companions slip and are lithified. Perseus uses the shield to save himself, as
legend says (and as Zeus had foretold), but in an odd w a y — h e throws it into
the hands of a statue. Medusa sees the reflection of Perseus and rushes toward
it, while the real Perseus waits behind a pillar. As soon as she passes, he slices
off her head with his sword. Jelly like blood pours out on the ground. It does
not produce Pegasus and Chrysaor, but it does dissolve his shield. Perseus care-
fully grasps the head (without looking at it, o f course) and ties it up in his cloak,
which serves as a kibisis.
There are still more hurdles to overcome. Calibos has kidnapped Pegasus.
He comes to Perseus's camp by night, attacks his men, and stabs the cloak-bag
containing the head. The blood of the Gorgon seeps out and is transformed
into giant scorpions. Perseus and his remaining companions fight off the arach-
nids and kill Calibos. Bubo contrives the escape of Pegasus. They unite in time
to get Perseus to Joppa just as the Kraken is descending upon the enchained
Andromeda. The head is displayed to the Kraken, w h o is frozen in stone, then
crumbles into the harbor. At the conclusion of the movie, it is related that the
principal figures are immortalized as constellations.
Clmh of the Titans was to have been Harryhausen's biggest feature, the start
of an amplified career. It was, instead, apparently his last film. For more than
fifteen years now there has been no new Harryhausen production, the longest
hiatus since he began making movies in the late 1940s. Time and economics
and advancing technology have caught up with his art. Today, instead of stak-
ing everything on an essentially one-man operation, in which a momentary
loss of attention can ruin an expensive scene, filmmakers use a battery of tech-
nicians to create computer-animated special effects. Mistakes can be erased.
There is no need for one-time-only work involving armatures or sodium-back-
ing shots. It is, I suppose, only a matter of time before someone will make a
 The Gorgon Today 215

movie in which the Gorgon is created via computer animation, but it won't
have the soul o f Harryhausens Medusa.
Clash of the Titans was the last gasp of the Gorgon on film, though not if w e
also include creations inspired by the Gorgon. I have in mind the 1987 film
Predator, directed by John McTiernan, written by Jim and John Thomas, and
starring Arnold Schwartzenegger (backed up by professional wrestlers). T h e
plot concerns an alien creature that comes to Earth to hunt human prey It
comes upon Schwartzenegger and company (a squad of Special Forces soldiers
on a mission in Central America) and begins bagging them one by one, taking
the heads(!) as trophies. T h e Predator wears a helmet of invisibility and carries
a shoulder-mounted weapon tied in to an aiming device in the eyes of the hel-
met; for practical purposes, it kills just by looking at its victim. Add to these
Medusan touches the dreadlocked hair and two mean pairs of fangs and a rep-
tilian hide and you have an updated version of the Gorgon. I do not know if
the director or writers of the film—or Stan Winston's creature shop, which cre-
ated the Predator—had the Greek myth in mind when they developed this crea-
ture, but if they did not, the coincidence is uncanny.
If the Predator was consciously based on the Gorgon, it would not be the
first time a modern monster had been erected upon that same framework. A
number of horror writer H. P. Lovecraft's odd beings have their roots in Greek
mythology. Lovecraft simply added extravagantly to the descriptions, making
his creatures seem much more loathsome than their original antecedants.
Consider, for example, the description of the Elder God, Cthulhu (from the
1928 story "The Call of Cthulhu"):

It s e e m e d to b e a sort o f monster, o r s y m b o l representing a monster, of a f o r m

w h i c h only a diseased f a n c y c o u l d conceive. If I say that m y s o m e w h a t extrava-
gant imagination yielded simultaneous pictures o f an octopus, a dragon, and a
h u m a n caricature, I shall n o t b e unfaithful t o the spirit o f the thing. A p u l p y ten-
tacle d head s u r m o u n t e d a g r o t e s q u e and scaly b o d y w i t h rudimentary wings;
but it was the general o u d i n e o f the w h o l e w h i c h m a d e it m o s t shockingly fright-
ful. 9

Compare this description with that of the Gorgon in "The Shield of Her-
cules." "Scaly body" and "rudimentary wings," indeed! He even works in the
modern theory of the octopus. 10
As I've noted, there are surprisingly few appearances by the Gorgon in mod-
ern literature, even in fantasy novels. Alan Dean Foster wrote a novelization of
the screenplay for Clash of the Titans. L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter
worked a Gorgon of sorts into "Black Tears," a Conan the Barbarian story, but
these examples are formulaic. 1 1
A significant characteristic of these modern examples of the Gorgon story
is that the role of w o m e n in them—especially that o f the goddess Athena—is
significantly diminished. In the two films that most closely parallel the original
myth, Andromeda, as the love interest, is given a large part, and Danae receives
some treatment. But there are no other w o m e n in Medusa against the Son of
Hercules. In Clash of the Titans, there are goddesses present, it is true, but their
 BBMBB

VHHI
4
:
— •••H
• M l wm

11.5 Medusa's sisters make an appearance in Neil Caiman's mythologically literate "graphic navel"
Sandman: The Kindly Ones. Stheno and Euryale don't have food because, being immortal, they
do not have to eat. Aegle, Erythia, and Arethusa are the Hesperides (although the name of the third
is usually given as "Hespere "). The retrieval of the golden apples from their orchard was one of the
twelve labors of Heracles. The Sandman is a trademark of DC Comics © 1998. All rights reserved.
Used with permission.
 The Gorgon Today 217

roles, aside from the inimical Thetis, are negligible. Aphrodite does nothing,
nor does Hera. Athena, w h o ought t o b e the prime mover of events, is reduced
to a headstrong side interest. T h e role of divine helper is taken by Zeus, mak-
ing this myth especially patriarchal. T h e switch in emphasis cannot be at-
tributed solely to the fact that the producers were able to obtain the services
of Laurence Olivier in the part o f Zeus, because they also had "name" stars to
play Aphrodite and Hera, yet gave them tiny parts. This diminishing of Athena
and exaltation of Zeus was a conscious decision. Even in the comic book The
Twilight Zone (noted above), the recounting of the myth o f Medusa eliminates
Athena, giving the role of divine helper entirely to Hermes.
The only cases I have found in which the female characters are given im-
portant roles are the two fantasy stories "Shambleau" and "The Gorgon," and
I note that both were written by w o m e n authors. They illustrate, I believe, the
beginning of an important trend in the modern history of the Gorgon—its role
as a female s y m b o l Author Iris Murdoch, for instance, employed Gorgon im-
agery in her 1961 comedy o f manners A Severed Head.11
Gorgons have been the subjects o f poetry since the Renaissance, but in the
twentieth century the poets w h o made use of this image were, more and more
often, women. Female artists, too, began to use the Gorgon as a potent sym-
bol. The Gorgon has become the symbol of female rage. One of the first pub-
lications to enunciate this principle was Women: A Journal of Liberation, in its
1978 issue on w o m e n and power. O n the cover of this issue is an unorthodox
drawing of a Gorgon by Froggi Lupton. Inside, the editors explain that "it [the
Gorgon] can be a map to guide us through our terrors, through the depths of
our anger into the sources of our power as women."
Emily Erwin Culpepper brought out many of these associations in her
1983 thesis, Philosophia in a Feminist Key: Revolt of the Symbols, and in a 1986 ar-
ticle for Woman of Power magazine entitled 'Ancient Gorgons: A Face for Con-
temporary Women's Rage." "One thing is very clear," she writes. "The Ama-
zon Gorgon face is female fury personified. This Gorgon/Medusa image has
been rapidly adopted by large numbers of feminists who recognize her as one
face of our own rage." 1 3
Edition number 13 of the journal Kef Search, entitled Angry Women, had a
cover featuring a snaky-haired Medusa whose snakes embrace missiles, stealth
fighters, telephones, and calculators. The editors explained: "For the cover of
this book, and as a minor antidote to the loss of the rich and meaningful
mythology in our lives, we resurrect the image of the Medusa, updated with
contemporary power icons. Reflective of the systematic destruction of matri-
archal history by the patriarchy, the Medusa expresses anger. The complex,
powerful pantheon of ancient goddesses such as Medusa, Juno, and Artemis
were reduced by their conquerors to narrow, negative, fearsome creatures.
Medusa's rage, embodied by seething snakes that turned men into stone,
seems to be an appropriate response to servitude. Anger is an emotion which
must be reclaimed and legitimized as Women's rightful, healthy expres-
sion—anger can be a source of power, strength, and clarity as well as a creative
 218 The Solution

force." 1 4 They later published a second volume on angry women, also with a
Medusa cover.
Medusa also made it onto the cover of Mary Valentis and Anne Devane s
book Female Rage: Unlocking Its Secrets, Claiming Its Power (1994). The Medusa in
this case does not look as fearsome—an artistic decision made at the insistence
of the publisher, w h o thought an angry face would not sell very well. This was
probably a mistake. The authors, professors of English literature at SUNY-
Albany, write: "When w e asked w o m e n what female rage looked like to them,
it was always Medusa, the snaky-haired monster of myth, who came to mind.
(Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, Roseanne Barr in She-Devil, and Lady Macbeth
came in as close seconds.). . . In one interview after another we were told that
Medusa is 'the most horrific woman in the world/ . . . None of the w o m e n we
interviewed could remember the details of the myth; none of them knew how
Medusa came to be the symbol o f female darkness and furious anger." 15
Emily Erwin Culpepper knows well the value o f using that anger:

Feminism has s h o w n m e w a y s to break t h r o u g h years o f conditioning (mine w a s

the w h i t e southern trying to b e c o m e middle-class variety) to b e always pleasant
and "nice/' L e a r n i n g to fight involves exploring y o u r capacity for fierce deter-
mination, and its focused expression. . . . Identifying w i t h G o r g o n s is not an un-
real, escapist r o m a n t i c i z i n g o f f e m a l e ferocity E n g a g e d in self-consciously in a
realistic w a y it is an important survival tool. O n N o v e m b e r 16th, 1980,1 w a s at-
tacked at m y h o m e . A b o u t 9:30 at night, while I w a s w o r k i n g on w r i t i n g m y dis-
sertation, the doorbell rang. Impatient w i t h this interruption, m y mind on m y
w o r k , I l o o k e d through the door's blinds at the y o u n g m a n standing there and
asked w h a t h e w a n t e d . His w o r d s w e r e unclear, s o m e t h i n g a b o u t m y neighbor.
T h i n k i n g he w a s a friend I had recently seen w i t h m y neighbor, still not clearly
understanding the m u m b l e d w o r d s , I o p e n e d the d o o r slightly. Abruptly he
pushed forward into the r o o m and started g r a b b i n g m e . I forcefully k n o c k e d h i m
o f f and shoved him back and o u t — s h o u t i n g , feeling m y face painfully contort
w i t h the force o f a fierce and desperate r a g e . . . . [An h o u r later] I let the fearful,
alarmed, desperate Rage so recent, still fresh, w e l l u p in m e in full force. A s I felt
m y face twist again into the fighting frenzy, I turned t o the m i r r o r and looked.
W h a t I saw in the mirror is a G o r g o n , a Medusa, if ever there w a s one. T h i s face
w a s m y o w n and yet I k n e w I had seen it before and I k n e w the n a m e to utter.
" G o r g o n ! G o r g o n ! " reverberated in m y mind. I k n e w then w h y the attacker had
b e c o m e so suddenly petrified. 1 6

In light of this account, it is interesting to note that there is a women's or-

ganization in Utrecht in the Netherlands called MEDUSA. Founded in 1991, it is
officially the Landelijk Bureau Ontwikkeling Beleid & Hulpverlening Seksueel
Geweld, and its purpose is to prevent the sexual abuse of women, provide re-
ferrals to victims in need of support services, and disseminate information.
Jane Caputi, in Gosstp, Gorgons, and Crones: The Fates of the Earth, sounds a
call to action:

In her earliest depictions, the G o r g o n is always fierce, bearded, toothy, and as-
suredly u g l y by Cockaesthetic standards. . . . This original G o r g o n face is o f o n e
w h o can vanquish and annihilate those w h o attempt to violate and victimize
 The Gorgon Today 219

her. . . . Medusa has been symbolically annihilated, shunned, slandered, and cat-
egorically defined as ugly and evil. Now, more than ever, we need to repudiate
that long-standing lie. Now, more than ever, we need to turn the face of history
to her face. 17

Elana Dykewomon's 1976 collection They Will Know Me by My Teeth features

a drawing of a very archaic-looking Gorgon on the cover (by Laura Kaye). "The
cover/' notes Culpepper, "is its public face, staring forth from bookstore
shelves, fulfilling the ancient Gorgon's function as guardian and promise of the
female power within/' The book is intended "to be sold and shared with
w o m e n only" notes Dykewomon. (Almost twenty years later, D y k e w o m o n re-
tired from the editorship of the lesbian journal Sinister Wisdom, and the last is-
sue she edited also featured a Gorgon on the cover.) A similar Gorgon face
graced a popular feminist button in the 1980s. Culpepper had one pinned to her
book bag.

The button contains no words, for it needs no explanation of what it is. This face
is self-explanatory. The father of an acquaintance saw this button on the book
bag I carry He had never heard of Gorgons nor seen a picture of one and asked
me what it meant. I asked him to tell me first what he thought it meant.
Immediately he replied, "It means: Keep Out!"18

H o w has the Gorgon achieved such a status in the minds of modern

women, even those unfamiliar with mythology? W h y not Athena in her guise
as the Battle Goddess? Certainly many see the Gorgon as another aspect of
Athena, but why shouldn't Athena be seen as a protectress in her own right,
helmed for battle, armed with spear and aegis? Wouldn't that be a more ratio-
nal symbol of female preparedness and willingness to fight? Controlled
strength versus uncontrolled rage?
I believe that one reason for the Gorgon's ascendancy is that it still occupies
a place in the public consciousness. H o w many other figures from classical
mythology fit the bill o f protector? H o w many Greek goddesses appear
sufficiently fearsome? Hera and Aphrodite and Thetis and so many of the oth-
ers just look like w o m e n in robes. For all their imposing gear, neither Athena
nor Artemis looks sufficiently daunting. Other w o m e n from Greek mythology
are generally victims (Daphne and Io and Iphigenia) or are not well known as
monsters. (What does Echidna look like? Or Scylla?) O f all of the possible can-
didates, only the Gorgon has the savage, threatening appearance to serve as an
immediately recognized symbol of rage and a protector of women's secrets.
And although the Gorgon is hailed as the symbol of female rage, it is actually
more than that—it is the symbol of empowered female rage. The Gorgon does-
n't merely threaten; it can carry out its threats. It can turn men into stone. It
can frighten off the enemy
This idea got some help from the theories of Robert Graves. "[The Gorgon's
head] is merely an ugly mask assumed by priestesses on ceremonial occasions
to frighten away trespassers; at the same time they made hissing noises, which
accounts for Medusa's snake locks." Graves speaks with such conviction that,
unless you read closely, you may not notice that he is saying this solely on his
 220 The Solution

own authority. Elsewhere he asserts that "the Gorgon-head is a prophylactic

mask, worn by priestesses to scare away the uninitiated." 19 Despite the lack of
evidence, it has become widely accepted that, in the ancient world, the Gorgon
mask was the guardian of female secrets.
The feminist interpretation of the Gorgon emphasizes different myths than
the ones I have examined in this book. I emphasize the "daughters of Phorkys
and Ketos" interpretation because it fits in so well with the astronomical the-
ory in Chapters 6 and 7. Helen Diner, author of Mothers and Amazons, on the
other hand, cites the "Medusa as A m a z o n " theory, which fits in well with the
idea o f the Gorgon as fierce protectress. Z . Budapest (cited in Culpepper by
way o f M. Womongold) argues that the Gorgons were a tribe of black
Amazons, "whose kinky hair caused the Greeks to mock them as having snakes
for hair." The idea seems to have been picked up by Alice Walker, who men-
tions it in her 1989 novel The Temple of My Familiar. Monica Sjoo and Barbara
Mor, in The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth, offer a
very detailed image of these Moroccan Amazons. They worshiped the goddess
Anatha (related to the Egyptian goddess Neith and the Greek Athena), w h o
wore a goatskin chastity tunic, the original of the aegis. She also carried a
leather pouch containing a sacred serpent and her protective Gorgon mask. It
is likely, Sjoo and Mor argue, that all the Amazons wore these chastity belts,
and that any man who removed them without the owner's consent could be
killed
This is an extraordinarily detailed picture to be drawn from a few thin
strands o f tradition. At the risk of appearing insensitive, 1 have to say that I can-
not accept it. Anatha was a Hittite goddess, and the relationship between
Anatha, Neith, and Athena is obscure at best. Where the sacred serpent in the
pouch comes from I do not know. The Gorgon mask seems to be from Graves's
theorizing, while the entire concept of Gorgons as Amazons (with Medusa as
their queen) seems to come from the ancient novelist (and untrustworthy
mythographer) Dionysios Skytobrachion, by way o f Pausanias and others.
Norma Lorre Goodrich, in Priestesses, weaves a web around the idea of an
Africa queen Medusa, tying her to goddesses and to historically documented
warrior w o m e n o f Africa. Judy Chicago places Medusa as a warrior queen
alongside Antiope, Lampedo, and Penthesilea in her artistic work, The Dinner
Party. It is a powerful image: the warrior queen vanquished by the patriarchal
Greeks, beheaded, then turned into a horrible monster of myth w h o is only
now being accorded the praise and honor she deserves, rescued from centuries
of male-imposed scorn. But I find it unbelievable, for the reasons stated above.
I don't wish to be misunderstood—I think that the Gorgon as a symbol of em-
powered female rage is important and useful, and I support such organizations
as MEDUSA. But I don't believe that the elaborately imagined myths of African
Amazons lie at the heart of the myth o f the Gorgon.
Other origin myths for the Gorgon have been put forward. One holds that
Medusa was transformed from a beautiful maiden into the monstrous Gorgon
by a wrathful Athena because she made love to Poseidon in one of Athena's
temples. Others present her as the "dark" side of Athena, as attested by the
 The Gorgon Today 221

presence of Medusa's face on the aegis. In either case, proponents of these al-
ternative myths believe that Medusa existed as a goddess figure in Greek pre-
history probably as one face of the Triple Goddess, and that our present myth
of Medusa as a monster is the result of patriarchal savaging of this rival deity.
Barbara G. Walker expounds this latter view in The Woman's Encyclopedia of
Myths and Secrets, claiming further that "a female face surrounded by serpent-
hair was an ancient, widely recognized symbol of divine female wisdom."
Walker has been a significant influence in modern interpretations. I find all
these points debatable.
About the most peculiar interpretation I have found is recounted in Elise
Bouldings The Underside of History: A View of Women through Time, in which the
author claims that "Carmenta created a Latin language from the Greek,
Medusa gave the alphabet to Hercules, Queen Isis to the Egyptians, (while) the
priestess-goddess Kali invented the Sanskrit alphabet." In fact, Thoth is usually
accepted as the god w h o gave hieroglyphics to the Egyptians. As we noted in
Chapter 4, Kali only attained importance recently, and no myth that I know of
has her inventing a language. The only interaction between Hercules and
Medusa in all of ancient mythology occurs in Apollodorus, who says that
Hercules met the spirit of Medusa in Hades. Certainly neither one had any-
thing to do with the alphabet. In a more recent reprinting of Boulding's book,
it is clear that she is quoting from Graves's The White Goddess, in which he holds
that the iconotropic origin of the myth of Perseus and Medusa was the Triple
Goddess's gift of the alphabet to Hermes.
"The patriarchal images of w o m e n from Graeco-Roman mythology will
continue to oppress as they remain 'encoded within our consciousness,' "
writes Susan R. Bowers in "Medusa and the Female Gaze." "The task for fem-
inist scholars and teachers is to expose the depth and profundity of these im-
ages in the Western psyche and discover how to reconstruct images of women
that represent their complexity and power. . . . Contemporary w o m e n artists
are turning to this matriarchal image for inspiration and empowerment. These
artists demonstrate how the same image that has been used to oppress w o m e n
can also help to set w o m e n free (p. 217)."
Indeed, there has been an explosion of such artwork, mainly in poetry and
painting. A recent collection of contemporary Puerto Rican women's stories
is entitled Reclaiming Medusa. "What power! And w h o can keep from envying
it, despite its fearful consequences?" writes editor Diana Velez. " W h y are w e
always pushed, as readers, into an identification with Perseus, the hero w h o ap-
propriated Medusa's power?. . . And what would be Medusa's desire? Probably
revenge. And what better way to get it than through writing. Writing, which
provides its o w n revenges and antidotes." 20
May Sarton was the first to call upon this new purpose of the Gorgon, in
her aptly titled poem "The Muse as Medusa":

I saw you once, Medusa; we were alone.

I looked you straight in the cold eye, cold.
I was not punished, was not turned to stone—
How to believe the legends I am told?
 222 The Solution

I came as naked as any little fish,

Prepared to be hooked, gutted, caught;
But I saw you, Medusa, made my wish,
And when I left you I was clothed in thought—-

Being allowed, perhaps, to swim my way

Through the great deep and on the rising tide,
Flashing wild streams, as free and rich as they,
Though you had power marshaled on your side.

The fish escaped to many a magic reef;

The fish explored many a dangerous sea—
The fish, Medusa, did not come to grief,
But swims still in a fluid mystery.

Forget the image: your silence is my ocean,

And even now it teems with life. You chose
To abdicate by total lack of motion,
But did it work, for nothing really froze?

It is all fluid still, that world of feeling

Where thoughts, those fishes, silent, feed and rove;
And, fluid, it is also full of healing,
For love is healing, even heartless love.

I turn your face around! It is my face.

That frozen rage is what I must explore—
Oh secret, self-enclosed, and ravaged place!
This is the gift I thank Medusa for.21

"She realizes, at the end of the poem, that the frozen rage' Medusa repre
sents is really the necessary concomitant of the world of creative feeling,"
notes Karen Elias-Button. 22
Barbara Deeming finds the strength for action in the Gorgon, as voiced in
"A Song for Gorgons":

Gorgons, unruly gorgons,

With eyes that start, with curls that hiss—

Once
I listened to the fathers' lies,
Took their false advice:
I mustn't look at you, I'd turn to
Stone.

But now I meet your clear furious stare and

It is my natural self that I become.
Yes, as I dare to name your fury
Mine—
Long asleep,
Writhing awake.

Ssisters, ssisters—of course they dread us.

Theirs is the kingdom
 The Gorgon Today 223

But it is built upon lies and more lies.

The truth-hissing wide-open-eyed rude
Glare of our faces—
If there were enough of us—
Could show their powers and their glories
To be what they merely are and
Bring their death-dealing kingdom
Down.

This is a song for gorgons—

Whose dreaded glances in fact can bless.
The men who would be gods we turn
Not to stone but to mortal flesh and blood and bone.
If we could stare them into accepting this,
The world could live at peace.

I sing this song for those with eyes that start,

With curls that hiss.
Our slandered wrath is our truth, and—
If we honor this—
Can deal not death but healing.

I sing: Our will be done!

I sing: Their kingdom wane!23

British poet and playwright Michelene Wandor applies a much lighter touch
in "Eve Meets Medusa":

Medusa. Sit down. Take

the weight off your snakes. We have
a lot in common, Snakes, 1 mean.

Tell me, can you really turn men

to stone with a look? Do you
think, if I had a perm—
maybe not.

Don't you think

Perseus was
a bit of a coward? not even
to look you in the face

you were beautiful when you

were a moon goddess, before
Athene changed your looks
through jealousy

I can't see what's wrong

with making love
in a temple, even
if it was her temple

it's a good mask; you must

feel safe and loving
 224 The Solution

behind it

you must feel very powerful

tell me, what conditioner do you use?24

"For poets, Medusa is an important archetype of feminine creativity," writes

Annis Pratt in Dancing with Goddesses: Archetypes, Poetry, and Empowerment.
"Medusa comes for many twentieth-century poets to serve as 'a metaphor for
powers previously hidden and denigrated, collective powers we are finally be-
ginning to reaffirm and claim for o u r s e l v e s . ' . . . The key to psychological sur-
vival as well as to poetic maturity is a face-to-face encounter with Medusa's per-
sonal and archetypal meaning. Each poet must complete a painful quest to
understand and to forgive Medusa; only by looking into her eyes and under-
standing what lies beneath them can we enter the healing seas of the uncon-
scious from which rebirth is possible (pp. 40-41)."
So this is where Medusa stands today The strands of her traditions have left
us with Medusa as classical Greek myth (known from books, paintings, and
sculpture as some part of our European cultural heritage), with the Gorgon as
monster in numerous films, and with Medusa as muse and as symbol of female
rage. If I can be forgiven a trite generalization, the difference between the sexes
is revealed in the way each looks at Medusa. To girls, she is a symbol of the
power of their anger and the source of their inspiration. But to boys, she's just
a real cool monster.
 12
Tsynthesis
Now, I must caution you gentlemen to look only in the
mirror. Man does not behold the face of the Gorgon
and live.
—Dr. Edward Morbius, in the
motion picture Forbidden Planet, 1956

I tell you. It does not pay to fool with a medusa. Are

there any questions anyone would like to ask? If not, I
suggest we go and look at the sphinx.
—Charles G. Finney,
The Circus of Dr. Lao, 1935

IN THIS CHAPTER, i INTEND TO s u m u p m y o b s e r v a t i o n s a n d d r a w every-

thing together into a tidy package. But here, too, 1 plan to take the bits that
wouldn't fit tidily in that package and lay them out for you, the readers, to
see—disordered remnants that I couldn't put elsewhere without disrupting the
flow. I also want to mention, briefly the research philosophy behind this book,
which may help explain why I have arrived at different conclusions from ev-
eryone else.
Based on the reasoning and inferences laid out in the preceding chapters, w e
should now be in a position to produce a tentative history of the myth of the
Gorgon. I assume that the myth really is a Greek invention, and that the par-
allels from around the world, including those from the relatively nearby Egypt
and Babylon and Crete, are independent creations that had little effect on the
Greek figure. I believe that there are no links with earlier goddesses or Gorgon
figures from prehistory.
The death's head is the nucleus around which the myth coalesced. The de-
caying head o f someone dead for a period ranging from a few days to one or
two weeks shows many of the features that would come to be associated with
the Gorgon: bulging eyes, which look like a parody of a stare; grossly pro-
truding tongue; puffy and lined facial skin—all o f these features are the result

225
 226 The Solution

of gases caused by decay bacteria. The separating hair gives the appearance of
an odd coiffure, and the skin may draw back from the teeth, revealing the ric-
tus grin. Bloody fluid can leak from the eyes, as was alleged of the Furies.
Bodies that were buried normally and given prompt funeral rites didn't dis-
play these features. But the heads of drowning victims (which have a tendency
to separate from the torsos) sometimes might. The heads of executed crimi-
nals, placed on public display, would clearly develop the features described
above and, in so doing, would invest them with notoriety.
From decaying heads, it is but a small step to masks, such as those found at
Tiryns and Sparta. At first the face on these masks was not identified with any-
thing in particular. This lack o f specificity allowed multiple myths to develop,
with the result that some saw the face as that of Phobos, or Fear, the son o f
Ares. At Delphi it was seen as Eurynomos, the guardian o f Hades.
During approximately the same period, the constellations were being
identified with stories. The celestial horse was probably imported from
Babylon, that particularly visible rectangle in the late summer sky suggesting
some large and imposing beast. Later identification with a winged horse was
probably the result of a belief that a horse in the sky would need wings. Nearby
was a hero with a curved sword in one hand and something that blinked in the
other. Also nearby was another bright red star that slowly dimmed and bright-
ened over the course of a year, like the slow beating of a great heart. Clearly
the two varying stars were related. Since the brighter star took only three days
to wink out, it was seen as the child of the slower, older one.
T w o myths, at least, began to crystallize around the three-day star. One held
that it represented the eye that passed among three monstrous sisters. Its dis-
appearance every third day showed when it was stolen by the hero. According
to the second myth, the star represented the head of a monster. For two days
the star did not dim, so on these days the star represented an "immortal" mon-
ster. O n the third day, the hero cut off the head and placed it in his kibisis, and
the monster was mortal. The three-day period of the star Algol thus gave rise
to two sets of triplets, both the daughters of the monster Ketos, with the star
Mira as its beating heart.
Once the myth had evolved to include the hero's stealing the eye, it was pos-
sible also to have him discard it. This facet fitted in neatly with the Perseid me-
teor shower, the most spectacular display in the sky, which appeared in the late
summer, just when the constellation was at its most visible at the setting of the
sun. The combination o f the two acts—theft and discarding—was such a suc-
cess, in fact, that it resulted in the hero's arm being moved from near the sickle-
shaped sword to the vicinity of the radiant of the meteor shower. In this way,
a pair o f relatively dim clusters became the arm of Perseus.
The very name Perseus may have been derived from the word for "cutter,"
since the hero cuts off the head o f the monster By extension, a monster with
its head cut off must have suggested the death's head, since the latter was usu-
ally represented without a body N o w there existed the beginning of a myth to
explain that head: A hero was sent to do it, a hero with a sickle sword who killed
one of three sisters, two of w h o m were immortal. Also drawn into the associ-
 Syn thesis 227

ation was Ketos, the monster with the beating heart, and perhaps the three sis-
ters w h o shared an eye that was later thrown to earth.
Other myths clustered around the same stars. If one could accept that Algol
was a monsters head, then one could also see a figure with a sword and a horse
springing away from it. T h e myth of the births of Chrysaor and Pegasus from
the neck of Medusa was originally a separate story, later incorporated into the
broader myth. Perseus was associated with the Perseid shower, which to some
suggested a miraculous impregnation of Danae by Zeus in the form of a
shower of gold. It was also possible for the same constellations to suggest
different heroes, with different stories—Bellerophon and the Chimera instead
of Perseus and Ketos, for example, or Hercules and Ketos instead of Perseus
and that same sea monster.
The presence of nearby constellations with variable stars (if not such obvi-
ous ones as Algol and Mira) suggested other characters—Cassiopeia and
Cepheus in the myth o f Perseus, along with the benign (and variable star-less)
Andromeda. Ketos (or Cetus) came to represent a direct threat, besides being
the parent o f other threatening characters. It was so spectacular that the sto-
ries found a way to cross the boundaries of other constellations and even the
zodiac to drag it in among those other clustered constellations that made up
the main part of the developing myth.
Some elements of the myth were brought in from less celestial sources.
Perhaps the idea for the shared eye of the Graiae came, as Lettvin suggests,
from the combat of octopodes. T h e idea of invisibility, suggested by the dis-
appearance of Algol, may have been reinforced by the camouflage ink pro-
duced by the squid, and the petrification of the Gorgon's victim was possibly
inspired by the "freezing" of potential prey under the eye of the octopus. The
flying sandals may have been suggested by the cuttlefish, but it seems more
likely to me that Perseus and the Gorgon were depicted with wings because,
like Pegasus, they were found in the sky.
The face of the Gorgon came to be the face on the shield, at first painted,
then molded. Because the myth had Perseus beheading the Gorgon with
Athena's help, it was only reasonable that he give the head to Athena to put on
her aegis, or her shield, or her breastplate. Or even, illogically, on all of these.
With the advent of polished metal shields, the tale of Perseus looking at the
Gorgon only in its mirrored surface (as protection against the monster's direct
glare) evolved to explain how the face became "fixed" in the surface.
By this time, w e have finally emerged from the preliterate Dark Age of
Greece, and w e can begin to see the Gorgon being molded by literature.
Dramas about Perseus and Andromeda were written, and the staged produc-
tions influenced the depiction of these characters on vases, which in turn re-
inforced changes in the story. Andromeda, unshackled in the earliest versions,
came to be chained up. The Gorgons began to get prettier. At first these
changes were subtle. T h e faces began to look more like heads than masks (al-
though perhaps at first they were masks, like the great clay heads of Tiryns),
then they grew more human, until finally Medusa looked like a sleeping
woman, about to be beheaded by the creeping Perseus. The wings that had
 228 The Solution

been attached to her shoulders migrated to her head. As her grosser fea-
tures—the b o a r s tusks, the protruding tongue, the rictus grin—disappeared,
the snakes that surrounded her were emphasized, until they actually inhabited
her hair. Sometimes, especially when the figure was small, the snakes even re-
placed the hair. But it wasn't until the rebirth of the Gorgon in the Renaissance
that w e were presented with the Gorgon w e are most familiar with today—the
wild woman with snakes in place of hair. It is this image that has endured up
to the present day
The story and the image of the Gorgon have grown through time, pushed
and prodded by many forces. I have attempted to unravel some of these. There
is nothing inevitable about the form taken by the final myth. The best proof of
this, I think, is the fact that, although there are many artistic doubles of the
Gorgon around the world, none of the myths associated with them duplicates
the story of Perseus and the Gorgon. One of the more interesting things about
the Indian Kirtimukkha, in fact, is that there are three or four different myths
about how that remarkable head came to be separated from its body Not one
bears much resemblance to Perseus and Medusa.
Another illustration of the nondcterminacy of myth is the status of that
classic image of hell, the Devil. One variation of the Christian Devil, in partic-
ular, has become an instantly recognized symbol of the underworld—the ver-
sion showing him with horns, goat feet, red skin, and pitchfork. W h e n Gary
Larson or B. Kliban draw a devil in a subterranean setting, you know they're
setting you up for a gag set in hell. But in a slightly different universe, the
Gorgon might easily have become this universal symbol for hell.
Think about it. If my theory of the Gorgon head's having been derived from
a decaying head is correct, then the Gorgon had a real start on the Devil. What
better symbol for the region of the dead than a decaying corpse? This is the
monster Persephone threatens to send up after Odysseus in Book u of The
Odyssey—and the works of Homer were often taken as literal truth by Greek
fundamentalists, just as the Bible is considered an unerring guide to the unseen
world by religious fundamentalists today. This is the creature Eurynomos de-
picted on the walls of the Lesche in Delphi. Virgil and Apollodorus put her in
hell, as well.
For some reason—it's still not at all clear to me why—interest in the Gorgon
as a creature of Hades evaporated over time. She is rarely placed in hell or spo-
ken of as a denizen of the underworld even in classical mythology, either Greek
or Roman. The coming of Christianity didn't kill her off, it just sealed her fate.
The Gorgon got a second chance when Dante and Milton and the Grub Street
playwrights brought her back into public view as a sure sign o f hell, but by then
the Christians' goat-footed Devil had been permanently ensconced there and
was all but impossible to dislodge. Nevertheless, in a world only slightly differ-
ent from our own, it would be easy to imagine Gary Larson drawing cartoons
about a hell inhabited by snake haired Gorgons rather than pudgy devils.
My own interpretations of the meaning o f the Gorgon and the origins of
her features differ from the most widely accepted views. Many of the theories
I've espoused above are original to me—in particular, the derivation of the
 Syn thesis 229

Gorgon head from a decaying head, the scarecrow theory of Gorgons and gar-
goyles, the variable star hypothesis of the myth of Perseus and Andromeda,
the linking of the constellation of Perseus with the harpe, and many others. I'm
happy to be able to put forward so many theories, but at the same time I feel a
sense of trepidation. If these theories are any good, why hasn't anyone else pro-
posed them before now? I certainly like m y theories. I think I've bolstered them
with evidence wherever I could, and I believe they are consistent with the facts
and with each other. But, of course, proponents of other theories would likely
make exactly the same claims. They would feel as justifiably proud o f their
ideas as I am of mine. There is no absolute proof of the truth of any one the-
ory and the best one can do is to present the best case for one's proposal.
That said, I'd like to address a couple o f issues concerning the relationship
of my theories to those of others. After all, w e can't all be right, can we? Is the
original inspiration for the Gorgon the octopus, or the lion, or the gorilla, or
the vagina dentata, or the imported face of Bes or Humbaba, or the decaying
head? Or is it something else entirely? I have tried to explain the elements of
the myth as coming from astronomical phenomena and psychological effects.
Robert Graves and Joseph Campbell think that the myth of Perseus represents
the Hellenes' overrunning of the land and suppressing the shrines of an earlier
culture's goddesses. Campbell draws attention to parallels with other mytholo-
gies from around the world, as I do, but he chooses entirely different myths
and entirely different parallels. W h o ' s right?
To begin with, I note that Campbell, for one, generally chooses to empha-
size different aspects of the Perseus myth. In his book The Hero with a Thousand
Faces, he concentrates on the inner journey, rather than on the external effects.
Campbell often disregards the details of the myth; the obstacles that must be
overcome are interesting bits of ephemera, but his concentration is on the
broad outlines of the story—the hero's journey, the threshold of adventure,
the setting out, and the return home. I, on the other hand, have reversed the
emphasis. My arguments strive to explain the details and ignore the broader
sweep.
My theories as presented in Chapters 6 through 10 explain a lot about the
myth, but not all. If you take away all the elements covered by my own expla-
nations from the myth of Perseus, you are still left with the following unex-
plained elements:

• The prediction of Acrisius's death at the hands of his grandson

• The sealing of Danae in a chamber
• The miraculous visitation of Danae by a god
• The sealing of Danae and Perseus into a chest, which is tossed into the sea
• Danae and Perseus's being pulled ashore by Diktys
• Polydektes's lust for Danae
• Perseus's rash boast
• Polydektes's sending Perseus on a quest
• Andromeda being set out as a sacrifice
• Perseus's rescue of Andromeda from the monster
• Cepheus and Cassiopeia's turning against Perseus
 230 The Solution

These are all "classical" mythological motifs. They all came from some-
where else—not from astronomy, forensic medicine, or the psychology of star-
ing. Simply put, then, I do not presume to explain all the elements of the myth.
It's true that I think many of the explanations offered for the myth by oth-
ers to be flawed. But not all o f them. To explain how this can be, I must explain
the underlying philosophy of my research. I did not at first realize that I was
being guided by this theory, but it became obvious to me, over time, that I was.
Many philosophies underlie the various approaches to cultural anthropol-
ogy. The one that has made its deepest impression on me is the philosophy
championed by Marvin Harris, former professor at Columbia University.
Harris calls it cultural materialism, and he has promoted it through a series of
popular books as well as technical works and textbooks. He prefaces his
Cultural Materialism: The Struggle for a Science of Culture with the following
words:

Cultural Materialism is the strategy I have found to be most effective in my at-

tempt to understand the causes of differences and similarities among societies
and cultures. It is based on the simple premise that human social life is a response
to the practical problems of earthly existence. I hope to show in this book that
cultural materialism leads to better scientific theories about the causes of socio-
cultural phenomena than any of the rival strategies that are currently available.
I do not claim that it is a perfect strategy but merely that it is more effective than
the alternatives.1

Stated in the technical language of anthropology, Harris's strategy assumes

this daunting form: "The etic behavioral modes of production and reproduc-
tion probabilistically determine the etic behavioral domestic and political
economy, which in turn probabilistically determine the behavioral and mental
emic superstructures." 2 This is quite a mouthful and, to the nonspecialist, thor-
oughly impenetrable. Harris is much more comprehensible in his popular
works, where he makes it clear that his main thesis is that peoples actions and
their belief systems are determined by the physical realities of their existence,
rather than the other way around.
An example he cites over and over in his books is the case of the sacred cow
of India. The Hindus do not eat beef because their religion forbids them to.
Violence has erupted between Hindus and Muslims in India over just this is-
sue, since Muslims are not forbidden to eat beef. It has been argued that those
excess cattle wandering through Indian streets might be slaughtered and
turned into a useful food source. In the 1960s, in fact, it was proposed that the
development o f a beef-slaughter industry could help raise many Indian fami-
lies out of poverty and lead to greater prosperity And what could be better than
to remove animals that served no useful purpose, drained needed supplies, and
were public nuisances as well?
Harris's argument was that the cattle were by no means useless—they scav-
enged on the streets with little need for support, yet they produced much-
needed milk. They also supplied draft animals in the form of calves—no mean
benefit in a poor country where gasoline-driven tractors are expensive enough
 Syn thesis 231

in their own right, not even counting the costs of upkeep and fuel. Finally, the
cows provided dung. This last item seems odd and even humorous to the rel-
atively affluent middle-class American, but cattle dung is exceptionally valuable
as a slow-burning fuel, as construction raw material, and as fertilizer.
There is a great deal more to Harris's explanation, but in bald terms, his
main point is that those scrawny, wandering cows are much more valuable alive
and producing their meager output of milk, calves, and dung than they would
be dead and constituting an ephemeral meal. A street cow (which is not own-
erless) may produce much less milk than a prize American dairy cow, but it re-
quires negligible feed and upkeep, so on a pint-per-cost basis it comes out well
ahead.
Harris makes the same sort of argument about the taboo against eating
pigs. Jews are forbidden to eat swine, and so are Muslims. The ancient
Egyptians would not eat pigs, either, going so far in their avoidance as to feel
dirtied even by the shadow of a pig. The ancient Sumerians had a religious rule
against the pig as well. But many modern Americans eat pork often. (Harris
points out that, during the colonial era and well into the nineteenth century,
Americans ate much more pork than beef) And in Melanesia the eating of pig
is a religious duty Why are Melanesians required to eat pig, while Middle
Eastern cultures are constrained to avoid it? Not, presumably because the pig
is a "dirty" animal—chickens are far less discriminating in their choice of food
than pigs, yet they are not taboo. Not because of trichinosis or other parasites,
either. These are easily killed by sufficient roasting of the meat. In addition,
cows are also subject to parasites, and worse (witness the recent outbreak of
"mad cow disease" in Britain). And not because of classification schemes based
upon cloven hoofs, says Harris. The real reason, he believes, is that raising pigs
is economically impractical in the Near East. In that environment, pigs com-
pete with people for food and habitat, whereas cattle and chickens eat grasses
and seeds that people cannot digest. Worse, the pig has no value aside from its
meat—you can't harness pigs and use them as draft animals, and you can't re-
ally get milk (or eggs) from a pig. On top of all this, pigs have a thermal regu-
lation system unsuited to desert life, because they can't sweat. In order to cool
off, they wallow in mud (which is better at thermal transfer than water alone).
In a hot climate, if they don't wallow they die. If there is no mud available, they
will, out of necessity, wallow in their own urine and feces (hence their reputa-
tion as "dirty beasts").
Pigs did well enough in the Near East when it was largely forested, since pigs
thrive in a forest environment where there is sufficient shade, water, and roots
to eat. But the climatic changes that occurred in ancient times, resulting in the
"desertification" of the region, made the pig, once a "succulent treat," into a
liability. Why eat pig meat when one can, with greater efficiency, eat the roots
oneself while continuing to get meat from cows, chickens, and goats?
This is only a quick outline of the arguments detailed at greater length in
Harris's books, but these examples should suffice to give an idea of his method.
It is by no means completely accepted. There is still a great deal of controversy
about cultural materialism and its application. The theory appeals strongly to
 232 The Solution

me because it suggests a powerful reason driving people's behavior, because it

generates testable hypotheses, and because its conclusions have the "ring of
truth" to them.
Before I plunge into my own application of these methods, I'd like to note
that the interpretations I am about to offer are entirely my own, and not the
suggestions of Harris or any other practitioner of the method. Any errors must
be laid solely at my door. 1 should also note that Harris does not claim that this
cultural materialist method will explain all human actions and beliefs. A great
many human activities are determined and guided by beliefs rather than by re-
sults. But when faced with a new and puzzling phenomenon, it is a good place
to start, especially if other approaches seem contradictory.
As a prime example of my own use of this approach, consider the inter-
pretations of the Gorgon as octopus/squid and as the head of a decaying
corpse. The way in which I arrived at the latter interpretation, and its implica-
tions, illustrate the forces that have helped shape the myth.
Originally I did not intend to write an entire book on the Gorgon. Ever since
I had read Jerome Lettvin s article linking the Gorgon to the octopus in 1978,1
was convinced he had found the underlying truth of the myth, and I intended
to write a brief article about that. I was encouraged when I found others who
had independently come to the same conclusion—Willy Ley, F. T. Elworthy,
the unnamed companion of H. J. Rose, Jacques Schnier, and those named by
A. B. Cook. I was intrigued by the encyclopedic work of scholars like Thalia
Phyllies Howe, w h o gathered a great deal of information on the subject, yet
did not even mention the cephalopod hypothesis.
Yet the more I read, the more troubled I became, not only with Howe's the-
ories, but with those of Lettvin and company as well. My thoughts crystallized
around one of the characteristic features of the Gorgon. Not the snakes. As I
have pointed out, snaky hair was not a feature of the Archaic Gorgon, or of its
counterparts around the world. Not the staring eyes. As I noted in Chapter 8,
there is a visceral human reaction to staring eyes that is shared by most of the
animal kingdom. 3 Not the mouth full of sharp teeth and fangs—that, too, is
an obvious threat, recognized in the animal kingdom as well.
The Gorgon-defining feature that bothered me was the tongue. W h a t was
it doing there? Unlike the other Gorgonic features, the tongue does not have
an obvious, instantly recognized meaning. N o animal signals threats with its
tongue. There is no shared fear of the protruding tongue among the people of
the world, or among animals. Yet the protruding tongue is one of the salient
features of Gorgons and Gorgon parallels.
Howe had this to say about the subject in 1954:

It is clear that some terrible noise was the originating force behind the Gorgon;
a guttural, animal-like howl that issued with a great wind from the throat and
required a hugely distended mouth, while the tongue, powerless to give coher-
ence, hung down to the jaw.4

You can't deny that there is much in what she says. The name of Humbaba
seems to be derived from something meaning "howler," and something o f the
 Syn thesis 233

sort seems behind some of the names o f the Kirtimukkha. At the same time,
her argument does not seem quite right. The Gorgon does not have "a hugely
distended m o u t h " — i t has a tightly closed mouth. Its teeth are gritted, closing
the orifice. If you were going to portray a howling creature, wouldn't you give
it a wide-open mouth, crying aloud to the world? Furthermore, the tongue
does not hang "down the jaw," "powerless to give coherence," Rather, the
tongue is painfully distended, straining outward to its fullest extent. I urge the
reader to try this experiment: push your o w n tongue out of your mouth as far
as you can. Use the pictures of Archaic Gorgons in Chapter 3 as models. (Do
this in private, if you wish. I don't want m y readers thought insane.) N o w try
to make a sound. You'll find your vocal chords restrained, your windpipe
blocked. This is a uniquely bad posture for doing any sort o f howling. It's not
just that your words would be incoherent—it's almost impossible to form them
at all.
You may argue that artistic truth is a thing different from physical reality If
the image conveys the idea of inchoate roaring, then doesn't it fulfill its func-
tion, regardless of whether or not it is physically possible? My reply is that it is
unlikely that an artist would choose to represent an action in a manner that is
physically unlikely and that would occur to a viewer only if mentioned by some-
one else. I maintain that, to the untutored, the face of the Gorgon certainly does
not suggest a roaring face, because its mouth is blocked. But see below.
Lettvin is bothered by that tongue, as well. He notes: "The modern Greek
scholars will assure you that this was a sign of fear or terror among the Greeks.
But that is a strange sort of assertion; why should a tongue sticking out appear
only on Gorgons and no other creatures?" 5
W h y indeed? Lettvin's theory is that the tongue is, in fact, the siphon of the
octopus, "which has much the same mobility as the human tongue and can be
pointed in any direction. It is always hanging out, and this is not a sign of fear;
it is the hallmark of the cephalopods." A clever hypothesis, and one that pegs
that anatomical feature of the Gorgon to a physical reality Elworthy felt the
same w a y pointing out that such Gorgonic features as tongue and fangs ap-
peared on a number of Gorgon parallels, which themselves occurred where
cephalopods were well known to the people. Thus the Incan pots and the
Maori tikis.
I was satisfied—for a time. But it continued to bother me. W h y should peo-
ple separated from each other by space and by time independently arrive at the
same face from a model so far removed as the octopus or squid? Because the
truth is that, although the cephalopod may suggest a human head with tongue
and fangs, the siphon and the parrotlike bill don't look like tongue and fangs at
all. Surely someone would have given us a monster with a parrot beak, or a
tubular tongue, or something even more bizarre.
W h y in fact, should so many people have used the octopus or squid as the
basis for this symbol in the first place? Perhaps the cephalopod was important
to the seagoing Greeks and Maoris, but what about the mainland Chinese, or
the Aztecs, living far from the seacoast on a plateau over a mile above sea level?
It didn't make sense that a sea creature would inspire their artwork.
 234 The Solution

The answer, I was sure, had to lie in some shared human characteri-
stic—something common to the human experience that Aztecs, Incas, Mayans,
Maoris, Chinese, Indians, Greeks, Egyptians, and others could see and inter-
pret clearly and unambiguously on their own. I tried and discarded several hy-
potheses before stumbling upon W. E. D. Evanss description of the decaying
corpse in an epigraph in Paul Barber's excellent 1988 book, Vampires, Burial, and
Death: Folklore and Reality. Here it all was—the bloated face, the facial mark-
ings, the pop eyes, and the distended tongue. Death is surely one of the great
common experiences of humankind, if not the most important. N o one could
mistake these features, not anywhere on earth, at any period in history. Here,
I thought, was surely the model for the Gorgon and its parallels.
And here is where the story really begins, because once that image has be-
come established—established so well that it becomes part of the background
of the culture—society can move on and forget the original meaning. N o w the
symbol can be invested with other meanings. N o w it can become a monster
fought by Perseus, independent of its meaning of Death. More to the current
point, now it can become associated with inchoate noise. N o artist, I still main-
tain, would create such a symbol de novo. But with the symbol already in ex-
istence, one can credit it with being a representation of howling. It's unlikely
that many disparate people would anthropomorphize an octopus into a
Gorgon face, but once the latter was there, it could take on the features o f the
octopus. N o one would create the Gorgon as a symbol of the sun, but once
that round face (made so very round originally in imitation of the bloated, gas-
swollen corpse) was known, it could be identified with the very round sun and
moon, giving us the Gorgon/ Apollo figures in Greek art and the face on the
Aztec Calendar Stone.
The same goes for the Gorgon parallel of Kali. One explanation holds that
the tongue is a symbol of coyness. Yet, aside from Kirtimukkha, no other
Indian figure has that tongue, and no others use a tongue as a symbol of coy-
ness. It is only after the symbol evolved from a different beginning, by a differ-
ent route altogether, that such an explanation could be retrofitted to it. The
same goes for the more "philosophical" explanation that it represents rajas (ac-
tivity) restrained by sattva (spirituality). Such allegorizing is much simpler in
retrospect, after the image has already evolved.
My position, then, is that the concrete symbol probably originated first, in-
fluenced by obvious (at the time) physical features. Other associations, ab-
stractions, and allegories attached themselves to this initial image over time
and contributed to the growth of the myth. Thus the Gorgon can seem to pos-
sess the features of octopi, squids, lions, apes, and other things. It can be asso-
ciated with thunder and lightning, with howling and wind. It can be an alle-
gorical figure. In fact, such identifications are probably inevitable in the life of
a symbol that has endured as long as the Gorgon has, especially given that most
people throughout its life were unaware of its original meaning and had to
come to some understanding of that image, unaided much by literature or phi-
losophy.
Similarly, other features of the myth of the Gorgon were inspired by phys-
 Syn thesis 235

ical events, then elaborated upon. So it is, I maintain, with the miraculous birth
of Pegasus and Chrysaor from the neck of Medusa. As I stated in Chapter 7, I
believe this incident to be derived from the relative positions o f the constella-
tion o f Perseus proper (interpreted here as Chrysaor, the hero with the golden
sword), Algol (representing the head of Medusa), and the constellation of
Pegasus. Once this image was created, it could be reported by Hesiod and oth-
ers, then it could be embellished. Pegasus became the bearer of Zeus's light-
ning. (Associated, perhaps, with the Perseid meteorites? Meteorites were often
lumped together with lightning by the Greeks and others. Meteors were seen
as the physical manifestations of lightning bolts.) Perhaps, as C o o k suggests,
Chrysaor's sword became linked with lightning as well (again, not too surpris-
ing, since the Perseid shower appears to emanate from what came to be his
sword hand). Many writers have remarked upon the conjunction of the
Gorgon head with an equine body on that Boeotian vase (see Chapter 3). I think
that they place too much emphasis on a single piece of artwork. But I would
note that this association becomes easier once Medusa is already affiliated with
Pegasus by that stellar proximity. 6
It's extremely easy to speculate at random about sources for various aspects
of the myth of the Gorgon. In this book I've tried to restrict myself to theories
that I thought could be corroborated by more than one piece of evidence—the
multiple connections between the myth and the stars, the several ways in
which Ketos is associated with the myth, the use of Gorgon faces for identical
purposes on antefixes, breastplates, and shields around the world, the world-
wide appearance of Gorgon parallels. I have considered and discarded a great
many speculations simply because I could find no corroboration for them.
They were interesting ideas, but they could be "pegged down" at no more than
one point and were, for that reason, not compelling. I have included a few of
the less improbable o f these in an appendix. One 1 would like to mention here,
however, because it potentially explains a very striking image—the snake-
haired Gorgon. As I've noted, the archaic Gorgon did not have snakes in place
of hair. But she was often associated with snakes: the Gorgon on the Corfu ped-
iment has a snake belt, Pindar alludes to the hissing of the Gorgon's snakes,
and the monster is sometimes described as having snakes in her hair.
Sometimes the Gorgoneion is shown fringed with snakes, but they are clearly
drawn around the circumference of the head, rather than being attached to the
head itself. Generally, one only sees snakes in place of hair in situations where
the image is reduced, as on a coin, and it would be hard to show both snakes
and hair.
That frieze of coiled snakes that appears around the Gorgoneion is very
odd. It consists of identical S-shaped snakes arrayed evenly spaced in a circle
around the head. It doesn't appear in any other image that I'm aware o f Where
does it come from? One interesting possibility suggests itself. T h e caterpillar
that is the larva of the sawfly (Croesus latitarsus) is a social insect, congregating
on leaves it eats. W h a t is most peculiar is that the caterpillars are capable of act-
ing in unison, as if with one mind. W h e n threatened, the caterpillars (which
are located around the periphery o f the leaf they are eating) raise their ab-
12. i, 12.2 Gorgon face with frieze of coiled snakes on vase m British Museum, compared with
drawing of warning display of sawfly larvae. The caterpillars of the sawfly (Croesus Latitarsus)
wiiï, when disturbed, engage in a coordinated warning display in which they curl away from the
leaf they are eating. Such a coordinated motion may have suggested the image of the frieze of
snakes around the head of Medusa, as shown here. Compare with other illustrations of Gorgoneia
with fringes of coiled snakes (seefigures3.8,3.20,3.2S). The sawfly occurs in Europe and North
America. Photograph of the vase courtesy of the British Museum. Drawing of sawfly larva by
Leslie C. Costa.
 Syn thesis 237

domens away from the leaf and wave about in an S-shaped motion. The image
they present is uncannily like that frieze around the Gorgon s head. Is this, then,
the origin of the snake border and ultimately perhaps, the origin of the snaky
hair of the Gorgon? Not snakes, but caterpillars. (The sawfly is found in both
North America and Europe. Oddly, it is not clear which way it migrated. But
related species are to be found on both continents.)
I have tried minor experiments on the theories suggested in this book. When
small birds started to reuse a robin's nest in the corner of my porch, I strapped
one of my collection of Daruma dolls next to the nest. 1 was gratified to find
that the birds were frightened away. But they were replaced by a pair of mourn-
ing doves, which took no notice of the staring guardian and nurtured its brood
until they were old enough to fly away.
I had a T-shirt painted with a Gorgoneion adapted from a plate in the
Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek in Munich. With its snarling,
fanged mouth, outsized, staring eyes, and striking orange color (done in imi-
tation of red-figure colors), I reasoned, it should make an eye-catching design.
If people's eyes were drawn to it, it would support my theory about the
Gorgoneion on the aegis being a distracting feature. Alas, I didn't notice that
people stared at my shirt more than the ordinary The design did not obviously
arrest their gaze. These uncontrolled experiments don't prove anything, of
course, but I had hoped for a little more success.
And so here, at last, I grind to a halt. It has been an interesting journey start-
ing with the Greek legend in its many forms, continuing on through parallels
in world mythology In the course of investigation and explanation, we have
taken side trips into history, psychology, zoology, natural history forensic
pathology, astronomy, architecture, art, motion pictures, comic books, femi-
nist theory, and cultural anthropology, among many others. I've recounted a
number of theories put forward by others, proposed a great many of my own,
and rattled a lot of cages. Many of the theories and ideas I have proposed are
new and original, and I've dismissed a number of widely held beliefs, which
will undoubtedly cause me trouble. I am convinced of the validity of my own
hypotheses, but so, of course, were the promulgators of those theories I've
spent much of this book arguing against. I hope, at the very least, that the jour
ney has been thought-provoking, and that I have not committed that cardinal
sin (as Oscar Wilde says) of being boring.
 Appenojx

I D LIKE TO NOTE HERE a few notions I have had that I do not think as well
supported as those I have made in the body of the text, or that I could not con-
veniently fit in elsewhere.

Janus

The Roman god of doorways and passages, and of the New Year (whence the
name of the first month, January). He really doesn't have a mythology associ-
ated with him. So where does he come from, and what does he mean? I note
that a god of doorways might originally have been located over them, just like
Kirtimukkha in India was placed atop doorways and windows. Janus might be
yet another Gorgon parallel, albeit one that has softened into a very human
face by the time we first see him. The only representations we have show him
as two faces in profile, joined at the back of the head. This is the sort of image
you would see in a doorway split up the middle, viewed on edge. This doesn't
seem to be a probable route for the creation of an image, but I can't shake it
from my mind.

Three Days

"Pagan gods . . . were resurrected on the third day," notes G. A. Wells in his
book Did Jesus Exist? His footnote indicates that he had in mind Adonis and
Osiris. Is it possible that the three-day period of Algol inspired this tradition?

239
 240 Appendix

Irish Parallels

The Irish hero Finn McCool and his men were once snared by the three Hags
of Winter, C a m o g ("small bag"), Cuilleann ("holly"), and Iornach ("spindle" or
"skein of yarn"), before the caves of Keshcorran in County Sligo.

Three phantom sprites came out o f the hill. Devilish was the guise o f the
w o m e n . They spell-bound my companions. Three black unsighdy mouths, six
white eyes never closing, three red bristling heads o f hair, six twisting legs under
them, three warlike swords, three shields with their three spears — it was not an
easy task to gaze upon the women or their gear. 1

They reduce Finn to "a withered quaking ancient" and do the same to his
men. Finn is aided by the goddess Göll and finally cuts off Iornach s head with
his sword.
The similarity to the story of Perseus and the Gorgons is intriguing, but I
don't know how the two stories are related, if at all. Certainly this is the only
close parallel I have encountered in all of world mythology Yet I cannot rule
out the possibility that the Greek legend directly inspired this Irish one.

Olmec Mirrors

A m o n g Olmec artifacts are mirrors made of natural magnetite. These mirrors

have been ground and polished by hand into concave surfaces, with biconic
holes drilled in for supporting cords. The mirrors are very small (about 2 inches
in diameter) and date from about 1500 B.C.E. to 300 C.E. Exactly what purpose
they serve hasn't been established. They have been supposed to be devices for
starting fires, magnifiers, camerae obscurae, or astronomical devices. Certainly
the time and effort put into them suggests that they are something other than
simple ornaments.
J. B. Carlson has suggested that they were worn as pectorals by high rank-
ing individuals. If so, I suggest that they were used as distracting devices, just
as the Gorgon on the breastplate was. The odd optical effect of a concave mir-
ror, which changed its reflection with each new position in a way unlike a
carved or painted decoration, would have been a superlative attention getter.

Names

The names of characters in the myth o f Perseus and Medusa, and in many of
the parallel myths, are of a very basic sort. Many o f them are simply descrip-
tions of the characters. This seems to indicate great antiquity. Perseus may, as
I've noted, come from Pterseus ("cutter"). Danae may mean "woman of the
Danaans," Diktys, the fisherman, has a name that means "net," which is how
he caught the chest with Perseus and Danae. Bellerophon's name may mean
 Appendix 241

"dart thrower." If these characters are known only by these names that indi-
cate their functions, it is unlikely that these are new stories about characters
known from somewhere else.

Users of the Harpe

As 1 remarked earlier, both Perseus and Hercules were users of the harpe, that
characteristic curved sword. I noted that I believed their use of this sword de-
rives from the curved shape that appears in what would originally have been
seen as the "hand" of the constellation of Perseus. It was only after the Perseid
meteorite shower came to be associated with the myth that Perseus's hand was
"moved" up to the double cluster, so he could be seen to be throwing stars.
Hercules, I maintained, was also associated with the same constellation and,
not surpisingly, had the same sword. Bellerophon is not associated with a
sword, but as the "dart thrower" it may not have been expected of him.
This makes me wonder about the other figures of Greek mythology w h o
used the harpe. There are few of them. Zeus used it in his fight against Typhon.
The myth is recounted in Apollodorus, but is believed to be very much older.
Is it possible that in one strand o f tradition the constellation now called Perseus
represented Zeus? Was the constellation of Cetus seen as Typhon?
Hermes was said to use the harpe as well, but the details are less clear. Again,
might the constellation have been seen as Hermes elsewhere in Greece?
Hercules fought Cetus, but he is said to have used the harpe only against the
many-headed Hydra. Is there a tradition in which the constellation of Cetus
represents the Hydra?
Kronos used a sickle. The tradition is a very old one, yet one that has, sur-
prisingly come down to modern times. Kronos with his sickle is the inspira-
tion behind Father Time and his scythe, a figure that used to be widespread
(Hogarth, among others, used it allegorically) but is today confined to New
Year s Eve celebrations. Is there a possibility that the ancestor of old Father
Time shows up in the sky a little early every year?
Finally, there is reason to associate the god Mithras of the Mithraic religion
with the constellation of Perseus. Intriguingly, although w e know little about
the Mithraic religion, we do know that the symbol of one of the grades of ini-
tiation was the harpe. Perhaps Perseus is Mithras, right down to the weapon.

Mania

Another Roman triple goddess was Mania, a set of deities that resembled the
Furies in many ways. They, too, may have been inspired by the features of
Algol.
 242 Appendix

Cepheid Meteorites

Another notable meteorite shower is the Cepheid shower. As the name implies,
the radiant for this shower (the spot in the sky from which the meteorites ap-
pear to emanate) lies within the constellation of Cepheus. In view of the fact
that the myth tells us of a war between Perseus and Cepheus, is it possible that
the showers of meteorites emanating from the two constellations helped to
shape this interpretation? Is this w h y the constellation of Cepheus came to be
associated with the king (rather than the W of Cassiopeia, which also had the
damning variable star)?

Headgear

Another point of similarity between the cultures around the Pacific rim, in ad-
dition to figures with protruding tongues and large eyes, is the use of helmets
that look like monstrous heads, with large staring eyes and mouths that ap-
parently engulf the wearer's o w n head. Examples come from the Americas,
China, Southeast Asia, and the Pacific islands. Was this perhaps another use of
the distracting face? Just as the face on the shield or on the breastplate could, I
maintain, act as a useful distraction, so could one on the head. It recalls the lion-
headed skin that Hercules wore.

American Indian Observations of Variable Stars

As I was researching this I learned that someone is working on the possibility

that Indians of the American Southwest may have knowledge o f variable stars,
and that this is preserved in their mythology Details are not yet available on
this work.
 nores

CHAPTER I

i. Actually, Superman was anticipated in this respect by another costumed hero

from newspaper strips. Lee Falks The Phantom had made its debut a few years earlier,
featuring a character w h o dressed in an incongruous, skin-tight, bright purple suit as
he fought evil-doers in a tropical jungle(!). Falk experimented with the appearance of
his character, varying it until he had something that "felt right" to him and his readers,
so the Phantom's appearance is the result o f the same evolutionary pressures felt by
Superman. The Phantom has been as successful as S u p e r m a n — h e is still in syndication
and has recently b e e n canonized on the cinema screen.

CHAPTER 2

1. This is the story as we have it from Pherekydes, our oldest source. Exacdy why
Perseus made the brash vow that propelled him into his adventure really isn't entirely
clear. The implication seems to be that he said it as a joke, trying to top the extravagant
suggestion of a horse as a gift, then was trapped by that seemingly innocent hyperbole.
In Pherekydes's account, Perseus did ultimately bring a horse to Polydektes, but it was
refused.
In Apollodorus's account, though, the emphasis has changed. Polydektes is s h o w n
as deliberately plotting against Perseus w h e n he first invites him to the feast, then in-
sists upon a horse. Perseus's retort that he w o u l d not stick at bringing the Gorgon's
head seems like a cry o f h u m o r o u s exasperation—"Heck, y o u might as well ask m e to
bring the Gorgon's Head!" In Apollodorus's version, Perseus does not bring horses to
the feast, and this omission enables Polydektes to insist u p o n the gift that Perseus did
p r o m i s e — t h e impossible G o r g o n head.
Apoîlodorus follows Pherekydes so closely elsewhere that it seems odd for him to
depart here. Was he following a different tradition, or w a s he subtly reshaping the story
to make w h a t was a chance inspiration in his source into an evil plot against a poor boy,
so that Polydektes's eventual downfall w o u l d seem more richly deserved?
2. In " T h e Shield o f Hercules" the b a g is said to b e silver, with gold tassels, but that

243
 244 Notes to pages 129-136

probably refers to the colors of the shield itself. Elsewhere, the author of "The Shield
of Hercules" refers to gold grapevines with silver stakes holding them up.
3. Goodrich, Priestesses, 179; Henle, Greek Myths, 89; Feldman, "Gorgo and the
Origins of Fear. "

CHAPTER 4

1. The suggestion was made by Cecelia F. Klein in The Face of the Earth: Frontality in
Mesoamerican Art, originally presented as her doctoral thesis.
2. Even less likely as either a gorgon ancestor or parallel is Marija Gimbutas's can-
didate, a figurine excavated at the Karanova site in modern Hungary This figure, which
Gimbutas claims was a goddess of death, dates from the mid-fifth millennium B.C.E.
Again, its provenance is separated from that of the gorgon by time and space, and there
are no examples that suggest a link between this sole figure and the Greek gorgons. And
again, the points of resemblance between this figure and the gorgon are few, indeed.
The eyes are mere slits, the mouth closcd, and most other features are only sketchy
The only feature that might identify this as a "gorgon" is what Gimbutas calls a tongue.
But this appendage is a most un-tonguelike blob below the mouth. Were it not for the
position, one would not dream of identifying it as a tongue.
Gimbutas pointed out another early "gorgon" figure on a pot from the island of
Melos in the Aegean. My comments on Cook's Minoan gorgon apply here, as well. This
figure of Gimbutas's, which shows a frontal representation of a face (although the body
is sideways), staring eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth, is a much better candidate
for a gorgon parallel.
3. "The Shield of Hercules," 11.144-48, in Hesiod, Homeric Hymns and Homerica.
4. Ibid., 11. 229-37-
5. Homer, The Iliad, Bk. 5,1. 738-743.
6. "The Shield of Hercules," 11. 248-61. Reprinted by permission of the publishers
and the Loeb Classical Library.
7. Aeschylus, The Libation Bearers, 11.1048-49, in Aeschylus I: The Oresteia. Used with
permission of the University of Chicago. All rights reserved. Published 1953.
8. Aeschylus, The Eumenides, 11. 48-49, 52-54, in ibid. Used with permission of the
University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 111. © 1953 by the University of Chicago. All rights
reserved. Published 1953
9. Virgil, The Aeneid, Bk. 7,11. 443-44» 447~5Q, 467-69, 475-77.
10. Julius Pollux of Naucratis, a second-century C.E. scholar, reported on the masks
that a Greek theater company of Euripides' time would have required. He noted that
there should be both a Gorgon mask and a Fury mask among the property of a well-
stocked troupe, so certainly he recognized a difference between them.
11. Theocritus, "The Women at the Adonis Festival," Bk. 15, L 57, in Greek Bucolic
Poets, 185.
12. Kinsley, Sword and the Flute, 88, 95-96.
13. Campbell, Mythic Image, 2:121.
14. A decorative Paiwan house pane! from Taiwan, which closely resembles New
Zealand carvings and which for many years provided one example of a "stepping stone"
from New Zealand to the Americas, is now no longer believed to be an authentic piece.
It was first reported in 1961.

CHAPTER 5

1. Plato, "The Symposium" and "The Phaedrus," 89.

2. Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists, 2:498-501 (bk. 5, sees. 220-21).
3. Edward Topsell, The History of Four-Footed Beasts (London: E. Cotes, 1658). Cited
in White, The Bestiary, 266.
4. Philopatris, in Lucian, Lucian, translated by M. D. MacLeod, Section 9:432-33.
 Notes to pages 94-127 245

5. I note in passing something that might not be obvious; A lion does not have "cat's
eyes." That is, the pupil of a lion's eye does not contract to a vertical slit in bright light,
like a house cat's. It contracts to a smaller circle, like a human eye. Thus the huge non-
feline eye of the Gorgon is entirely consistent with a leonine origin.
6. A modern suppporter of the lunar theory is A. P. H, Scott, who in a 1974 paper
stated that the original meaning of the word gorgon is "the Moon as it is terrible to be-
hold." His interpretations—that the snakes of Medusa's head derive from the sun's
corona (visible behind the shadow of the moon during an eclipse) or from the rippling
of the moon's shadow due to the refraction of the earth's atmosphere—seem ingenious
but unlikely.
7. Graves, The White Goddess, 343,348.
8. Klaus Thelewit, Male Fantasies, Volume 1. Translated by Stephen Conway (Minne-
apolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987), p. 201.
9. The surprising plural of octopus is not octopi, second declension, but octopodes,
irregular third declension, as Dr. Lettvin pointed out to me when I incorrectly used the
former in his presence. The alternative is the cacophonous octopuses.
10. Actually applied to the Graiae, but the description can be seen as applying to the
Gorgons as well if we accept the essential identity of the two sets of triplets.

CHAPTER 6

1. By contrast, the name Sirius is an authentic ancient name for the Dog Star. It ap-
pears in the seventh-century B.C.E. Works and Days of Hesiod and in "The Shield of
Hercules" of about the same date.
2. Hoskin, "Goodricke, Pigott, and the Discovery of Variable Stars."
3. Ibid. It's easy to look back on this exchange with a modern knowledge of the sit
uation o f Algol and feel a sense of satisfaction that Goodricke finally "got it right." But
such would be " W h i g History " Goodricke s contemporaries had an excellent reason
for doubting that the variation in brightness was caused by an eclipsing compan-
ion- the shortness of the eclipsing interval coupled with the short period between
eclipses required that the size of the orbit be not much larger than the diameters of the
stars themselves. This was thought to be an unlikely, unstable system. They expected
that the individual stars ought to be visible. Although the idea was raised several times
afterward, as I note above, it wasn't until Vogel performed his spectroscopic analysis
that there was physical proof for the eclipse hypothesis. See Furness, Introduction to the
Study of Variable Stars.
4. Even theJournalfor the History of Astronomy gives him little notice. Peter Brough-
ton s article "The First Predicted Return of Comet Halley" (vol. 16 [1985]: 123-33) de-
votes only two sentences to Palitszch's work.
5. Lettvin, " T h e Gorgon's Eye," 82.
6. David Ulansey has suggested to me that this is the origin of the unusual form
Zeus took to impregnate Danae, Perseus's mother. I have since found that others have
proposed the same idea. In fact, I was surprised to find that the "golden shower as me-
teorite shower" connection was first put forward in 1927 by L. Radermacher, although
he does not seem to have associated it with the Perseids. A. B. Cook, recounting
Radermacher's theory, noted that it might explain why the chest into which Danae and
Perseus are sealed by Acrisius is very often adorned with stars (when it is depicted in
vase paintings). "But shooting stars, after all, were a phenomenon familiar enough to
the Greeks, and were never confused by them with rain, golden or otherwise" (Cook,
Zeus, 3:475). I wonder if the association of the golden shower specifically with the
Perseid shower, rather than with some more generalized phenomenon, would have
made him change his mind.
7. There is another interpretation of the Perseid meteorites in quite another branch
of folklore. In England and Germany they were said to be the tears of Saint Lawrence.
The feast of Saint Lawrence, a third-century Roman martyr, falls on August io, near
 246 Notes to pages 129-136

the peak of the display. This fact is often cited as an example of ancient knowledge of
the regularity of meteorite displays. In fact, modern science didn't recognize the regu-
lar appearance of the Perseid meteorites until the nineteenth century, when they were
independently "discovered" by three astronomers, Edward Herrick of Yale University,
John Locke of Cincinnati, and Adolphe Quetelet of the Brussels Observatory The sit-
uation parallels that of Algol—three modern observers working independently toward
the same conclusion, which was already known in much earlier times and had become
embedded in mythology. In this case no one doubts that the phenomenon was known
well in advance of the modern discovery—that was attested to in unambiguous lan-
guage long before Herrick, Locke, or Quetelet began their work. See Littman, "Discov-
ery of the Perseid Meteors/'

CHAPTER 7

1. Goold himself examined the astronomical origins of the myth of Perseus at

greater length in "Perseus and Andromeda: A Myth from the Skies," in the Proceedings
of the African Classical Association 2 (1959) 110-15. His conclusions differ from those I sug-
gest in this chapter.
2. The variability of Gamma Cassiopeia was suspected a hundred years earlier by
W. R. Birt, w h o voiced his suspicions in the Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society in 1833 and 1859. Birt never followed up his suspicions, however. Nor did anyone
else. The matter lay dormant until the flare-up in the twentieth century See D. L.
Edwards, "Changes in 7 Cassiopeiae during the Past 100 Years," Monthly Notices of the
Royal Astronomical Society 105 (5):283-29i.
3. Algol is the brightest eclipsing variable star visible in the northern skies. By curi-
ous coincidence, the second-brightest eclipsing variable star is also in Perseus—it is
Gamma Persei, located roughly in the hero's head. But whereas the period of Algol is
about three days and shows a dramatic dip, the period of Gamma Persei is about 14.5
years, and the dip of 0.3 in magnitude lasts about ten days altogether. Such a dip is barely
visible to the naked eye—even if you know when to look for it. An observer in the an-
cient world would probably not live long enough to see the star eclipse three times, so
it's not surprising that the discovery of the variability of Gamma Persei was so re-
cent—it was not known until 1991. (See Sky and Telescope 85, no. 5 [ June 1991]* 598-600).

CHAPTER 8

1. Homer, The Riad, translated by Robert Fitzgerald, Anchor/Doubleday (1974)

Book 18, lines 487ff; reprinted by permission of Anchor / Doubleday. It is a peculiar thing
that according to The Riad, the great authority on matters mythological to the
ancient Greeks, it is the shield of Agamemnon that carries the Gorgoneion, yet
Agamemnon is never depicted in art with a Gorgon shield, whereas the shield of
Achilles commonly is shown with a Gorgoneion. Yet, as we see here, there is no men-
tion in Homer—or anywhere else in ancient literature—of Achilles having a Gorgon
shield.
2. One system that inevitably caught our attention is a combination target genera-
tion system and gaze analyzer built by James Anliker of NASA's Ames Research Center.
His Programmed Eye-track Recording System and Eye-coupled Ubiquitous Scene
Generator has a somewhat tortured name that gives it the acronym PERSEUS.
PERSEUS uses the Cornsweet-Crane system to track the motion of the eye in follow-
ing computer-generated images. It has an accuracy rating of better than five minutes
of arc, Anliker s description of the device draws analogies between it and the myth of
Perseus, with the goal of Perseus's quest, the head of Medusa, standing for the ineifable
and unutterable Truth that cannot be grasped (seen) directly.
3. Yarbus Eye Movements and Vision, 190.
4. Book, Zeus, 1:307.
 Notes to pages 159-180 247

5. " T h e Shield of Hercules," in Hesiod, Homeric Poems and Homerica, 230-33, 236-39.
6. I k n o w o f one example that depicts the Shield o f Hercules, based o n the de-
scription. That example, by J. L. Myers, is not satisfactory. There is n o g o o d reason to
depict Phobos as a griffin, as Myers does, and the other staring faces are reduced to
insignificance. See Myers, "Hesiod's 'Shield o f Herakles.' " A less ambitious interpre-
tation, which does not have the same faults, is found in Hathaway, View of Greek Art, 72.

CHAPTER 9

1. Some examples o f b o o k s that apply Bernards words to gargoyles include Sheri-

dan and Ross, Gargoyles and Grotesques, and diRenzo, American Gargoyles.
2. G. Leland Hunter, "Notes on Gargoyles, Grotesques, and Chimeras," T h e Archi-
tectural Record 35 (February I9i4):i36.
3. A personal anecdote: I have been given a stuffed gargoyle by my sister, w h o
knows of m y interest in gargoyles and the like only too well. (I still have several cans o f
gargoyle-shaped pasta in m y cupboard, also gifts from her.) T h e idea of a soft, cuddly
gargoyle is pretty much an oxymoron, whatever your theory o f gargoyles, but it is ap-
pealing. I t o o k the beast, with its mock-ferocious glare and m o u t h full of soft cloth
teeth, and shook it face-first at one o f our cats. T h e result w a s startling. T h e cat in-
stantly j u m p e d o f f m y wife's lap and w e n t into full-alert defensive mode. Her back
curved up to exaggerate her size, the Conquistador-helmet ridge o f fur up her spine
fully erect. Her tail f u z z e d out to three times its normal size and stood away from her
body. She gingerly stepped about, always facing the n e w threat. She continued to dis-
play at the innocuous figure for several minutes, 110 doubt wondering w h y m y wife and
I weren't taking any notice o f this strange n e w creature that had suddenly appeared in
the supposedly safe sanctuary o f our h o m e . O u r other cat, approaching from the other
side, sniffed briefly at the stuffed figure and walked away Eventually, 1 turned the gar-
goyle around so that its glaring face w a s away from the first cat and bopped the figure
on its head a few times to show its dormancy. O u r cat eventually walked up and sniffed
the figure, but she still didn't trust it. Don't tell m e such figures can't fool mice.
4. There is another significant use o f the eye symbol in ancient Greece that I want
at least to mention here. 1 cannot tie it to the G o r g o n in any way, or to any o f the other
uses of the eye, except as a general sort o f apotropaic device. This is the custom of
painting an eye on either side o f a ship's prow, supposedly to watch over the path of the
ship and keep it from harm. Perhaps there is no other explanation needed. A series of
articles in American Neptune in the 1950s debated the origin o f these eyes. (See Richard
LeBaron Bowen, "Martime Superstitions of the Arabs," American Neptune 15 [January
1955]: 5ff; Carroll Quigley, "Certain Considerations o n the Origin and Diffusion o f
Oculi," ibid, 15 (July 1955]: 191-98; Bowen, "Origin and Diffusion o f Oculi," ibid., 17
[October 1957]: 262Â; and Quigley, " T h e Origin and Diffusion of Oculi: A Rejoinder,"
ibid. 18 [January 1958]: 25-29.) These devices on ships seem to date back to at least 2000
B.C.E, in Egypt and were c o m m o n throughout the R o m a n and Greek worlds, reaching

far beyond the Mediterranean to Africa and India. Exactly where the practice originated
and h o w it spread is the subject o f the debate b e t w e e n B o w e n and Quigley. It seems to
have been halted by the Muslims, w h o in this case took the Koranic injunction against
depicting living creatures to heart. Nevertheless, in Aden the boats sport circular dec-
orations in exactly the same positions occupied by the eyes on other boats, so perhaps
this is another case o f Islam's accommodating the decoration to the situation. At one
point Bowen notes that Arab bow-patches were green rather than red as was often the
case elsewhere. H e believed the red patches resulted from the use of a blood sacrifice
upon launching a ship (akin to the present-day practice of breaking a bottle of cham-
pagne across the bow), and that the Arabs changed the patch to green w h e n Islam pro-
scribed blood sacrifices. Is sacrifice the origin of the boat eyes? O r is Carroll Quigley
correct in ascribing them to symbols o f the Egyptian goddess Isis that spread through
the Mediterranean? Or are they the o u t g r o w t h of some normal b o w feature on ships?
 248 Notes to pages 129-136

The jury still seems to be out, and I still don't see any relationship to the Gorgon, ex-
cept in a vague, apotropaic way.

CHAPTER 10

1. Evans, Chemistry of Death, p 9

2. Fatteh, Handbook of Forensic Pathology, pp. 24-25.
3. Aeschylus, Aeschylus h The Orestäa, p. 136,11. 52- 54. Used with permission of the
University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 111. © 1953 by the University of Chicago. All rights
reserved. Published 1953.
4. Ibid., p. 131, 1. 1058. Used with permission of the University of Chicago Press,
Chicago, 111. © 1953 by the University of Chicago. All rights reserved. Published 1953.
5. Cited in Wood, The Civil War, p. 236. The "arms extended in the air" of these
bloated corpses recalls the common position of the arms of Stheno and Euryale as they
pursue the escaping Perseus. They, too, hold their arms stretched over their heads in an
unnatural fashion.
6. Tolstoy, Childhood, Boyhood, and Youth, p. 121-122.
7. To my knowledge, the only other suggestion that the appearance of a newly de-
cayed corpse contributed to the image of a mythological figure was made by Tomio
Watanabe, former medical examiner for Tokyo, who suggests that the image of the
Indian figure of Garuda, the half-human king of the birds, draws its inspiration from such
corpses (Atlas of Legal Mediane, p. 16). Watanabe notes that the protruding tongue and
lips of a decomposing corpse resemble the beak of Garuda. Most images of Garuda,
however, share few features in common with corpses or the Gorgon, and few even show
protruding tongues. The general rcsemblancc is so slight that I did not even include
Garuda in my chapter on parallels. Another example Watanabe gives is the figure of
Yama, judge of the dead, with his prominent eyes and his blue- or green-tinged skin (p.
14). A closer match is one between a decaying corpse and the image of a vampire, as noted
by Paul Barber in his book Vampires, Burial, and Death. Barber makes an excellent case.
8 Chadwick Hansen, Witchcraft at Salem (New York: George Braziller, 1969),
1:280-281.
9 . Ibid., 8 : 5 5 5 - 5 7 0 .

10. The Madness of Hercules, in Euripides, 3:196-97, 204-5,11- 867- 870, 931-934.
11. Ibid., 3:198-99,1. 881-882.
12. Ibid., 3:232-33,1.1267-1268.

CHAPTER 11

1. Pope, The Dunciad, Bk. 3,11. 229-36.

2. Northwest Smith was surely one of the influences behind director/producer
George Lucas's decision to name his tough archaeologist hero Indiana Jones.
3. A "Medusan" appeared as an alien—an ambassador, no less—in "Is There in
Truth No Beauty?," an episode from the third season of the original Star Trek television
series. The energy being is so ugly that it drives humanoids mad unless viewed through
a special visor.
4. "Porkykarkus" requires some explanation. Not only does it sound like a Greek
amplification of Porky, but it is also a parody of Parkyarkarkus, the name of a Greek
character on a then-popular radio show. Parkyarkarkus, in turn, is obviously meant to
be heard as "park your carcass"—that is, "sit down and stay a while." Sometimes the
anthropology of everyday life from only a few decades ago is fully as obscure as the. an-
thropology of ancient cultures.
5. Perseus was called "the son of Hercules" in the American release because of the
success of the 1 9 5 7 film Hercules (released in the U.S. in 1 9 5 9 ) and its J 9 5 9 sequel, Hercules
Unchained. Both films were made in Italy by Warner Brothers and released there first.
 Notes to pages 207-224 249

Other film companies quickly saw the advantage of releasing muscleman pictures
dubbed into English, with the name o f the h e r o — o f t e n Maciste—changed to Hercu-
les. O n e distributor simply added a preface saying that all the various heroes were spir-
itually "sons of Hercules," including Perseus.
6. T h e latter t w o are names o f t w o o f the Furies. Perhaps Stheno and Euryale were
thought t o o hard to pronounce. T h e third Fury was Alecto, as given by Virgil.
7. Modern Bunraku performances take place in front o f painted backdrops, before
which the black-suited puppeteers are extremely visible. I have often suspected that
they derive not from an agreed-upon convention of assumed invisibility, but from a
time when the performances t o o k place before a black backdrop. In that case the pup-
peteers w o u l d really have been invisible. T h e innovation o f painted backdrops must
then have been too much o f a lure to ignore.
8. T h e name Caliban, like the word cannibal, is thought to be a corruption of Carib,
the name Caribbean natives gave themselves and the source for Caribbean.
9. Lovecraft, "The Call o f Cthulhu," in The Best of H. P. Lovecraft, p. 77-78.
10. Lovecraft was also supposed to have edited a short story by Zealia Bishop,
'Medusa's Coil," about a modern-day G o r g o n .
11. T h e s u m m e r 1997 release o f the Disney film Hercules brought the G o r g o n back
to the animated screen, albeit briefly Perseus is mentioned early on by Philoctetes(S),
in this incarnation a satyr-trainer. We briefly glimpse a statue o f Perseus holding the
head of Medusa, although later in the film Hercules fights a G o r g o n in an extremely
brief scene. More interesting is the film's unconventional v i e w o f the Fates, here seen
as somewhat monstrous creatures, à la " T h e Shield o f Hercules/' rather than as beau-
tiful goddesses. The animators appropriated the detachable eye o f the Graiae for these
cronelike Fates, which makes an interesting touch.
I note that there is a company called G o r g o n Video, which specializes in tapes show-
ing people being killed. A series of such films—Faces of Death I, Faces of Death U,
etc.—has been issued. ! asked representatives of this company why they chose the
G o r g o n as a symbol. It seemed appropriate, considering the previous chapter of this
book. They said that it just seemed a g o o d image for them. T h e company logo features
a green-faced Beautiful-type G o r g o n with a headful o f snakes, although y o u wouldn't
really call her beautiful.
12. This b o o k was later adapted by Murdoch and J. B. Priestley into a play, and later
still made into a motion picture. Oddly enough, one o f its stars was Clair Bloom, w h o
played Hera in Clash of the Titans.
13. Culpepper. Philosophia in a Feminist Key, 2:460, and "Ancient Gorgons," p. 22.
14. Re/Search, edited by Andrea Jano and V. Vale. (San Francisco: Research Publica-
tions).
15. Mary Valentis and Anne Devane, Female Rage ( N e w York: C r o w Publishers,
1994), p 5-
16. Culpepper, 'Ancient Gorgons," pp. 23-24, and Philosophia in a Feminist Key
2:465-469.
17. Caputi, Gorgons, Gossips, and Crones, p 166.
18. Culpepper, 1986, pp. 22-23.
19. Graves, Greek Myths, p. 245, and The White Goddess, p. 231.
20. Diane Velez, ed., Reclaiming Medusa: Short Stories by Contemporary Puerto Rican
Women (San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt Lute, 1988), p. 2.
21. "The Muse as Medusa," copyright © 1971 by May Sarton, from May Sarton:
Collected Poems, 193^993- Reprinted by permission o f W W. N o r t o n and C o m p a n y Inc.
22. Elias-Button, "The Muse as Medusa," p. 204.
23. Barbara Deeming, "A Song for Gorgons," in McAllister, Reweaving the Web of
Life, pp. 43-44.
24. Michelene Wandor, "Eve Meets Medusa," in Linthwaite, Ain't I a Woman?,
pp. 115-16.
 250 Notes to pages 129-136

CHAPTER 12

1. Harris» Cultural Materialism, p. ix.

2. Ibid., pp 55-56.
3. This is why aliens are often portrayed as "bug-eyed monsters/' why eyes appear
in nightmares, and why there is a horror movie entitled The Crawling Eye. No one has
yet proposed a companion feature, The Running Nose (based on a story by N. Gogol).
4. Feldman [Howe], "Origin and Function of the Gorgon-Head," p. 212.
5. Lettvin, "The Gorgon's Eye," p. 78.
6. Just a suggestion: Isn't it interesting that the figures of Perseus, Medusa's head,
and the horse's body line up on the vase just as the constellations do in the sky?

APPENDIX

i. Daniels, Mythic Ireland, p. 207.

 RefeRences

Aeschylus. Translated by H e r b e r t W e i r Smith. C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: L o e b Classical

Library, Harvard University Press, 1952.
. Aeschylus I: Oresteia. Translated by R i c h m o n d Lattimore. C h i c a g o : University
o f C h i c a g o Press, 1958.
. Aeschylus II. Four Tragedies. Trans, by Seth Benardet and David Grene.
Chicago: University o f C h i c a g o Press, 1958.
Ahl, Frederick. "Classical G o d s and the D e m o n i c in Film." In Cïo^5îc5 in Cinema,
edited by Martin M. Winkler, 40-59. Cranbury, N.J.: Associated University Presses,
1991.
Allen, Richard Hinckley. Star Nam«.* Their Lore and Meaning. 1899- Reprint. N e w York:
Dover, 1963. (Originally published as Star-Names and Their Meanings.)
Apoîlodorus. The Library (Bibliotheka). Translated b y Sir James G e o r g e Frazer.
C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: L o e b Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1921.
Apollonius o f Rhodes. The Voyage of the Argo (Argonautica). Translated b y E. V. Rieu.
H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin Classics, 1959.
Apuleius. The Golden Ass. Translated b y Jack Lindsay Bioomington: Indiana
University Press, 1932.
Aratus. Callimachus, Lycophron, and Aratus. Translated by G. R. Mair. C a m b r i d g e ,
Mass.: L o e b Classical Library, Harvard University Press, i960.
Arthur, Marilyn. " 'Liberated W o m e n ' : T h e Classical Era." In Becoming Visible: Women
in European History, edited by Renate Bridenthal and Claudia K o o n z . Boston:
H o u g h t o n Mifflin, 1977.
Arthurian Chronicles. Translated by E u g e n e Mason. N e w York: Everyman's Library,
Dutton, 1912. (Contains the Roman de Brut o f R o b e r t W a c e and the Brut o f
Layamon.)
Ashbrook, Joseph. 'Algol and Scientific C o n s e r v a t i s m " Sky and Telescope 21 (June
1961): 316-17.
Ashe, G e o f f r e y (with Debrett's Peerage). The Discovery of King Arthur. N e w York:
D o u b l e d a y Anchor, 1985.
Ashe, Geoffrey, ed. The Quest for Arthur's Britain. L o n d o n : Pall Mall Press, 1968.

251
 252 References

Athenaeus. The Deipnosophists. Translated by Charles Burton Gulick. 6 vols.

Cambridge, Mass.; L o e b Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1927.
Attwater, Donald. A Dictionary of Saints. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin Books,
1965.
Badawy, Alexander. A History of Egyptian Architecture: The First Intermediate Period, the
Middle Kingdom, and the Second Intermediate Period. Berkeley: University o f
California Press, 1966.
Badner, Mino, and Robert Heine-Geldern. Two of Art in the Pacific Area: The
Protruding Tongue and Related Motifs in the Art Styles of the American Northwest Coast,
New Zealand, and China and a Note on Relations between the Art Styles of the Maori
and of Anrient China. Vienna: Verlag Ferdinand Berger and Sohne, 1996.
Barber, Paul. Vampires, Burial, and Death: Folklore and Reality. N e w Haven, C o n n . : Yale
University Press, 1988.
Barnes, Hazel E. The Meddling Cods: Four Essays on Classical Themes. Lincoln:
University of Nebraska Press, (974.
Barrett, Jacqueline K., ed. Encydopedia of Women's Associations Worldwide. Detroit,
Mich.: Gale Research, 1993.
Barrow, Terence. Maori Art of New Zealand Paris: A. H. and A. W. Reed and the
U N E S C O Press, 1978.
Batten, Alan. " T w o Centuries o f Algol Systems." Space Science Reviews 50, nos. 1 - 2
(1989): J-S.
Beekman, G e o r g e W. E. " T h e Farmer Astronomer." Sky and Telescope 79 (May 1990):
548-50.
Bell, Robert E. Dictionary of Classical Mythology Symbols. Santa Barbara, Calif.: A B C -
C l i o Inc., 1982.
Benton, Janetta Rebold. Holy Terrors: Gargoyles on Medieval Buildings. N e w York:
Abbeville Press, 1997.
Bierce, A m b r o s e . The DeviVs Dictionary. 1911. Reprint. N e w York: Dover, 1958.
Biers, William R. The Archaeology of Greece: An Introduction. Ithaca, N.Y.: C o r n e l l
University Press, 1980.
Bird-X Corporation. "Maintenance Managers K e e p T h e i r Eyes o n the Birdie to
Eliminate Birds." Advertising flier. C h i c a g o , III.: Bird-X C o r p o r a t i o n , ca. 1990.
Boardman, John, Jose Dorig, W e r n e r r Fuchs, and Max Hirmer. The Art and
Architecture of Ancient Greece. L o n d o n : T h a m e s and Hudson, 1967.
Bobrovnikoff, N. T. " T h e Discovery o f Variable Stars." Isis 33» pt. 6, no. 92 (June 1942):
687-89.
Boethius, Axel, and J. B. Ward-Perkins. Etruscan and Roman Architecture.
H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin Books, 1970.
Bone, Neil, Meteors. Cambridge, Mass.: Sky Publishing C o r p , 1993.
Bonneau, D. "Orbital Inclination and Masses N e w l y D e t e r m i n e d for the Triple
System Algol." Astronomy and Astrophysics 80 (1979): L1T-L12.
Bowers, Susan R. "Medusa and the Female G a z e . " National Women's Studies
Association Journal 2 (Spring 1990): 217-35.
Brenn an, Shawn, ed. Women's Information Directory. Detroit, Mich.: Gale Research,
1993-
Bridaham, Lester Burbank. Gargoyles, Chimaeras, and the Grotesque in French Gothic
Sculpture. N e w York: Da C a p o Press, 1969.
Brown, Robert. Researches into the Origin of the Primitive Constellations of the Greeks,
Phoenecians, and Babylonians. London: Williams and Norgate, 1899.
Budding, E. " W a s T h e r e an Ancient K n o w l e d g e o f Algol's Variability?" Southern Stars
32 (March 1988); 180 -90.
Burckhardt, Titus. "Swiss Folk Art." Studies in Comparative Religion 16 (Winter-Spring
1984): 103-4. ( T w o short extracts from Burckhardt's first b o o k . )
Burnham, Robert, Jr. Burnham s Celestial Handbook. N e w York: Dover, 1978.
Burton, Richard F , Sir. The Book of the Sword. London: C h a t t o and Windus, 1884.
 References 253

C a b a r g a , Leslie. The Fleischer Story. N e w York: D a C a p o Press, 1988.

C a m p b e l l , Joseph. The Mythic Image. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974.
C a p u t i , Jane. Gossips, Gorgons, and Crones: The Fates of the Earth. Sante Fe, N.M.: Bear
and C o m p a n y Publishing, 1993.
Carter, Jane Burr. " T h e Masks o f O r t h e i a . " American Journal of Archaeology 91 (July
1987)3: 355-383.
Cenival, Jean-Louis de. Living Architecture: Egyptian. L o n d o n : O l d b o u r n e , 1964.
C h a r c o t , J. M. Lectures on the Diseases of the Nervous System. L o n d o n : N . p , 1877.
C h a r c o t , J. M., and Paul Richer. Les Demoniaques dans VArt. Macula, 1984. (Originally
published in 1887, Adrica D e l a h a y e et Emile Lecrosnier o f Paris.)
C h a u d h u r i , A r u n K u m a r R a y "A Psycho-Analytic Study o f the H i n d u M o t h e r
G o d d e s s (Kali) C o n c e p t . " American Imago 13 (1956): 123.
C h e n , Kwan-yo, and Ernest G . Reuning. "Infrared P h o t o m e t r y o f Beta Persei."
Astronomical journal 71 (May 1966): 283-96.
C h o u , K y o n g C h o i . 'Algol: Still a D e m o n Star!" Sky and Telescope 27 (January 1964):
24-26.
C h r é t i e n de Troyes. Arthurian Romances. Translated b y W. W. C o m f o r t . L o n d o n :
E v e r y m a n ' s L i b r a r y D e n t Publishers, 1914.
C o n o v e r , Michael R, " P r o t e c t i n g Vegetables f r o m C r o w s U s i n g an A n i m a t e d C r o w -
Killing O w l M o d e l . " Journal of Wildlife Management 49, no. 3 (1985): 643-45.
. "Response o f Birds to Raptor M o d e l s . " In Proceedings of the Eighth Bird
Control Seminar. B o w l i n g G r e e n , O h i o : B o w l i n g G r e e n State University, 1979.
C o o k , A . B. Zeus: A Study in Andent Religion. 3 vols. C a m b r i d g e : C a m b r i d g e University
Press, 1914-40.
Coriat, Isador H . "A N o t e on the M e d u s a S y m b o l i s m . " American Imago 2 ( D e c e m b e r
1941): 281-85.
C o r n s w e e t , T. N., and H . D. C r a n e . 'Accurate T w o - D i m e n s i o n a l Eye T r a c k e r U s i n g
First and Fourth Purkinje Images. "Journal of the Optical Society of America 63
(August 1973): 921-28.
C o s t a , James T. "Caterpillars as Social Insects." American Scientist 85 (March-April
1997): 150-59.
C o t t , H u g h B. Adaptive Coloration m Animals. L o n d o n : M e t h u e n , 1940.
Covarrubias, Miguel. The Eagle, the Jaguar, and the Serpent: Indian Art of the Americas.
N e w York: Knopf, 1967.
. Indian Art of Mexico and Central America. N e w York: Knopf, 1957.
C r a w f o r d , O . G . S. The Eye Goddess. 1957. Reprint. O a k Park, 111.: Delphi Press, 1991.
C r o o n , J. 11. " T h e M a s k o f the U n d e r w o r l d D a e m o n : S o m e R e m a r k s on the Perseus
G o r g o n S t o r y " Joumal of Hellenic Studies 75 (1955): 9 16.
Culpepper, Emily Erwin. ' A n c i e n t G o r g o n s : A Face for C o n t e m p o r a r y W o m e n ' s
R a g e . " Woman of Powers ( W i n t e r / S p r i n g 1986): 22-24, 40.
"Philosophia m a Feminist Key: Revolt o f the S y m b o l s . " D . T h . diss., Harvard
Divinity School, 1983.
D a l y Mary, and Jane Caputi. Webster's First New Intergalactic Wickedaryof the English
Language. Boston: B e a c o n Press, 1987.
D a m e s , Michael. Mythic Ireland. L o n d o n : T h a m e s and H u d s o n , 1992.
Daniels, M i c h a e l Mythic Ireland. L o n d o n : T h a m e s and H u d s o n , 1992.
D a n t e Alighieri. The Inferno. Translated b y M a r k Musa. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.:
P e n g u i n B o o k s , 1971.
D i o d o r u s Siculus. Diodorus Sicuius. Translated b y C . H . O l d f a t h e r and Rüssel M . Geer.
C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: L o e b Classical L i b r a r y H a r v a r d University Press, 1961-62.
D i R e n z o , Anthony. American Gargoyles: Flannery O'Connor and the Medieval Grotesque.
C a r b o n d a l e : S o u t h e r n Illinois University Press, 1993.
D i t c h b u r n , R. W Eye-Movements and Visual Perception. O x f o r d : C l a r e n d o n Press, 1973.
D o d g e , R a y m o n d . "Five T y p e s of Eye M o v e m e n t in the H o r i z o n t a l Meridian Plane
o f the Field o f Regard." American Journal of Physiology 8 (1902): 307-29.
 254 References

Dodge, Raymond, and Thomas Spakes Cline. "The Angle Velocity of Eye
Movements." Psychological Review 8 (1901): 145-57.
Dreyer, J. L. E. A History of Astronomy from Thaïes to Kepler. N e w York: Dover, 1953.
DuBois, Page. Sowing the Body: Psychoanalysis and Ancient Representations of Women.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988.
Elias-Button, Karen. "The Muse as Medusa." In The Lost Tradition: Mothers and
Daughters in Literature, edited by Cathy N. Davidson and E. M. Broner, pp. 193-206.
N e w York: Frederick Ungar, 1980.
Elworthy, F. T. 'A Solution of the Gorgon Myth." Folk-Lore 14 (1903): 212-42.
Euripides. Euripides. Translated by Arthur S. Way Cambridge, Mass.: Loeb Classical
Library, Harvard University Press, 1950.
. Ion. Translated by Ronald Frederick Willetts. In The Complete Greek Tragedies,
Euripides, Vol 3, edited by David Grene and Richmond Lattimore. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1958.
. Orestes. Translated by William Arrowsmith. In Euripides IV: The Complete
Greek Tragedies, Vol 4, edited by David Grene and Richmond Lattimore. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1958.
Evans, W. E. D. The Chemistry of Death. Springfield, 111.: Charles Thomas Publications,
1963.
Fatteh, Abdulleh. Handbook of Forensic Pathology. Philadelphia, Pa.: J. B. Lippincott, 1973.
Feldman [Howe], Thalia. " G o r g o and the Origins of Fear/' Arion 4, no. 3 (Autumn
1965): 484-94-
. " T h e Origin and Function of the Gorgon-Head." American Journal of
Archaeology 58, no. 3 ( July 1954): 209-21.
Ferenczi, Sandor. "On the Symbolism o f the Head of Medusa." In Further
Contributions to the Theory and Techniques of Psycho-Analysis. London: 1926.
Fleischer, Michael L. The Great Superman Book. N e w York: Warner Books, 1978.
Fleming, Andrew. "The Myth of the Mother-Goddess." World Archaeology 1 (October
1969): 247-61.
Fontein, Jan, and Tung Wu. Unearthing China's Past. Boston: Museum of Fine Arts,
1973.
Fraser, Douglas. Primitive Art. N e w York: Doubleday, 1962.
Fraser, Douglas, et al. Early Chinese Art and the PaciWc Basin: A Photographic Exhibition.
N e w York: Intercultural Arts Press, 1968.
Frazer, Sir James George. The Golden Bough. New York: Macmillan / St. Martin's
Press, 1966.
Freud, Sigmund. "The Infantile Genital Organization." In The Standard Edition of the
Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, 19:144. London: Hogarth Press, 1961.
. "Das Medusenhaupt." "Medusa's Head," trans. James Strachey. In The
Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, 18:105-106.
London: Hogarth Press, 1961.
Frothingham, A. L. "Medusa, Apollo, and the Great Mother." American Journal of
Archaeology, 2d ser., vol. 15 (1911): 349-77-
Furness, Caroline E. An Introduction to the Study of Variable Stars. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 1915.
Gandz, Solomon. Review of Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babe I, by Johann
Schaumberger. /sis 25, pt. 2, no. 70 (September 1936): 473-76.
Gantz, Timothy. Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources. Baltimore,
Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993.
G a r d n e r j o h n , and John Maier (trans.). Gilgamesh; Translated from the Sin-leqi-unninni
Version. N e w York: Vintage Books, 1984.
Gaster, T h e o d o r H. The Oldest Stories in the World. Boston: Beacon Press, 1952.
Geoffrey o f Monmouth. The History of the Kings of Britain. Translated by Lewis
Thorpe. Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Classics, 1966.
Gibson, James J. Perception of the Visual World. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1950.
 References 255

Gilbert, Sandra M., and Susan Gubar, eds. The Norton Anthology of Literature by
Women: The Tradition in English. N e w York: N o r t o n , 1985.
Gillispie, Charles Coulston, ed. The Dictionary of Scientific Biography. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons, 1972.
Gilman, Carolyn. "John Goodricke and His Variable Stars." Sky and Telescope 56
( N o v e m b e r 1978): 400-403.
Gimbutas, Marija. The Language of the Goddess. San Francisco, Calif.: Harper and Row,
1989.
Glasby, John S. The Variable Star Observer's Handbook. N e w York: N o r t o n , 1971.
Goldberg, Marilyn Y. "Archaic Greek Akroteria." American Journal of Archaeology 86
(1982): 193-209.
. "Greek Temples and Chinese Roofs" American Journal of Archaeology 87 (July
1983)305-10.
Goldman, Bernard. "The Asiatic Origin of the Greek Gorgon." Berytus 14, no. 1 (1961):
1-22.
Goodrich, Norma Lorre. Priestesses. New York: Harper Perennial, 1989.
Goodricke, John. "A Series of Observations On, and a Discovery of, the Period of the
Variation of the Light of the Bright Star in the Head of Medusa, Called Algol."
Transactions of the Royal Society of London 73 (1783): 474-82.
Graves, Robert. The Greek Myths. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin Books, i960.
. The White Goddess. N e w York: Far rar, Straus, and Cudahy, 1948.
Gray, Louis Herbert, ed. The Mythology of All Races. Boston: Marshall Jones, 1942.
Grimai, Pierre. The Dictionary of Classical Mythology. Translated by A. R. Maxwell-
Hyslop. 1951. Reprint. London: Blackwell Reference, 1985.
Grinnell, Isabel Hoopes. Greek Temples. 1943. Reprint. N e w York: A r n o Press, 1974.
Hamilton, Edith. Mythology. Boston: Little, Brown, 1942.
Hamlin, A. D. F. A History of Ornamentation: Ancient and Medieval N e w York: T h e
Century Co., 1929.
Hanks, William F., and Don S. Rice, eds. Word and Image in Maya Culture. Salt Lake
City: University of Utah Press, 1989.
Hansen, Chadwick W. Witchcraft in Salem. New York: George Braziller, 1969.
Harding, Elizabeth U. Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar. York Beach, Maine:
Nicolas-Hays, 1993.
Harre, R o m , and Roger Lamb, eds. The Encyclopedic Dictionary of Psychology.
Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1986.
Harris, Marvin. Cultural Materialism: The Struggle for a Science of Culture. N e w York:
Vintage Books, 1979.
Harris, Raymond L. Outline of Death Investigation. Springfield, 111.: Charles C. Thomas
Publications, Sprinfield, 111. (1962).
Harrison, Jane Ellen. Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1903.
Hartland, Edwin S. The Legend of Perseus. 3 Vols. London: David Nutt, 1896.
Hathaway, R. Ross. A View of Greek Art. Providence, R.I.: Brown University Press,
1973-
Heckethorn, Charles William. The Secret Societies of All Ages and Countries. 1875.
Reprint. New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1965.
Heidel, Alexander. The Gilgamesh Epic and Old Testament Parallels. Chicago: University
o f C h i c a g o Press, 1946.
Heintz, W u l f f D. Double Stars. Dordrecht, Holland: D. Reidel Publishing, 1978.
Henle, Jane. Greek Myths: A Vase Painter's Notebook. Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1973.
Herodotus. The Histories. Translated by Aubrey de Selincourt. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.:
Penguin Books, 1954.
Hesiod. The Homeric Hymns and Homerica, Translated by H. G. Evelyn-White.
Cambridge, Mass.: Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1964.
 256 References

Hindu Myths. Translated by Wendy O'Flaherty. Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin

Books, 1975.
Holland, Barron. Popular Hinduism and Hindu Mythology: An Annotated Bibliography.
Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1979.
Holloway, R. Ross. A View of Greek Art. Providence, R.Ï.: Brown University Press, 1973.
Homer. The Riad. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald. N e w York: Doubleday Anchor,
1974.
. The Odyssey. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald. N e w York: Doubleday Anchor,
1963.
Hopkins, Clark. " T h e Sunny Side o f the Greek G o r g o n J Berytus 14, no. 1 (1961): 25-35.
Hoskin, Michael. "Goodricke, Pigott, and the Quest for Variable Stars." Journal for the
History of Astronomy 10 (1979): 23-41.
Hülst, Cornelia Steketee. Perseus and the Gorgon. La Salle, 111.: Open Court Publishers,
1946.
Hunter, G. Leland. "Notes on Gargoyles, Grotesques, and Chimaeras" Architectural
Record 35 (February 1914): 132-39.
Hyginus. The Myths of Hyginus. Translated by Mary Grant. Lawrence: University
Press o f Kansas, i960. (Contains Fabulae and Poetica Astronomical
Johnson, W. T., and H. H. Lyon. Insects That Feed on Trees and Shrubs. Ithaca, N.Y.:
Cornell University Press, 1991.
Joly Henri L. Legend in Japanese Art. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E. Tuttle, 1967.
Jones, Prudence, and Nigel Pennick. A History of Pagan Europe. London. Routledge,
(1995).
Juno, Andrea, and V Vale, eds. Angry Women. Re/Search no. 13. San Francisco, Calif.:
Re/Search Publications, 1991.
Juvenal. The Sixteen Satires. Translated by Peter Green. Harmondsworth, Eng.:
Penguin Books, 1967.
Karo, George. Greek Personality in Archaic Sculpture. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press for Oberlin College, 1948.
Kay, Charles de. "Gargoyles Old and New/' Architectural Record 19 (1906); 419-24.
Keith, A. Berriedale. "Indian Mythology." In The Mythology of All Races, edited by
Louis Herbert Gray, vol. 6. Boston: Marshall Jones Co., 1942.
Kim, Ho-Lin. "BV Light Curve Analysis o f Algol/' AstrophysicalJournal 342 (July 15,
1989): 1061-67.
King, Stephen, and "f-stop Fitzgerald." Nightmares in the Sky: Gargoyles and Grotesques.
N e w York: Viking Press, 1988.
Kinsley, David R. The Sword and the Flute. Berkeley: University of California Press,
1975.
Klein, Cecelia F. The Face of the Earth: Frontality in Two-Dimensional Mesoamerican Art.
N e w York: Garland Publishing, 1976.
Kodansha Encyclopedia of Japan. Tokyo: Kodansha, Ltd., 1983.
Kopal, Zdenek. Close Binary Systems. N e w York: John Wiley and Sons, 1959.
Kramrisch, Stella. The Hindu Temple. 1946. Reprint. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1976.
LaFond, E. G. "Two-Faced O w l s vs. Seagulls." Naval Research Reviews, April 1961,
15-17.
Lamb, Charles, and Mary Lamb. The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb. 7 Vols. London:
Methuen, 1903.
Langdon, Stephen H. "Semitic Mythology." In The Mythology of All Races, edited by
Louis Herbert Gray, vol. 5. Boston: Marshall Jones Co., 1942.
Lawrence, A. W. Greek Architecture. 3d ed. Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Books,
1973.
Lee, Tanith. The Gorgon and Other Beastly Tales. N e w York: D A W Books, 1985.
Lettvin, Jerome Y. "The Gorgon's Eye." Technology Review 80 (December 1977): 74-83.
L e y Willy. Willy Ley's Exotic Zoology. N e w York: Capricorn Books, 1966.
 References 257

—-— . Watchers of the Skies: An Informal History of AstronomyfromBabylon to the Spac

Age. N e w York: V i k i n g Press, 1963.
Linthwaite, Ilona, ed. Ain't I a Woman?: A Book of Women's Poetryfromaround the
World. New York: Peter Bedrick Books, 1988.
Littman, Mark. "The Discovery of the Perseid Meteors." Sky and Telescope 92, (August
1996): 68-71.
Lord, Mary P., and W. D. Wright. "The Investigation of Eye Movements." Progress in
Physics 13, no. 1 (1950): r-23.
Lovecraft, H o w a r d Phillips. The Best of H. P Lovecraft: Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and
the Macabre. N e w York: Del Rey Books, 1982.
l.ovi, G e o r g e . "Rambling through N o v e m b e r Skies." Sky and Telescope 50 (November
1975): 313-M.
Lubell, Wilfred Milius. The Metamorphosis of Baubo: Myths of Woman's Sexual Energy.
Nashville, Tenn.: Vanderbilt University Press, 1994.
Lucan [Marcus A m n n a e u s LucanusJ. Lucan. Translated by J. D. Duff. Cambridge,
Mass.: Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1962.
Lucian. Lucian. Translated by K. Kilburn. Vol. 6. Cambridge, Mass.: Loeb Classical
Library, Harvard University Press, 1959.
Lucian. Lucian. Translated by M. D. MacLeod. Vol. 8. Cambridge, Mass.: Loeb
Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1967.
McAllister, Pam, ed. Reweaving the Web of Life: Feminism and Nonviolence. Gabriola
Island, British Columbia, Canada: New Society Publications, 1982.
McKean, Philip Frick. "Rangda the Witch." In Mother Worship, edited by James J.
Preston, 265-82. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982.
MacKenzie, Normal. Secret Societies. London: Aldus Books, 1967.
McKeon, Carolyn H. "Iconology of the Gorgon Medusa in Roman Mosaic." 3 vols.
Ph.D. diss., Classical Art and Archaeology, University of Michigan, 1983.
McClure, H. Elliott. "Protecting Grain Fields in Japan from Pilferage by Birds."
Journal of Wildlife Management 20 (October 1956): 462-64.
Mandeville, John. The Travels of SirJohn Mandeville. Translated by C. W. R. D.
Moseley Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Books, 1983.
Manilius. Astronomica. Translated by G. P. Goold. Cambridge, Mass.: Loeb Classical
Library Harvard University Press, 1977.
Manitius, Carolus. Hipparchi in Arati et Eudoxi Phaenomena Commentariorum Lipsiae,
Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1894.
Martha, Ann, and D o r o t h y Myers. Goddesses in World Mythology. Santa Barbara, Calif.:
A B C - C L I O , Inc., 1993.
M e d l e y Margaret. A Handbook of Chinese Art. N e w York: Harper and Row, Icon
Editions, 1964.
Michaud, L. G. Michaud, ed. Biographie Universelle. Paris: Michaud, 1822.
Miller, Arthur A. "An Interpretation of the S y m b o l i o s m of Medusa." American Imago
15 (Fall T958): 389-99
Milton, John. Complete Poems and Major Prose. Indianapolis, Ind.: Bobbs-Merrill, 1957.
Monaghan, Patricia. The Book of Goddesses and Heroines. N e w York: E. P. Dutton, 1981.
M o n t y Richard A., and John W. Senders, eds. Eye Movements and Psychological
Processes. N e w York: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, John Wiley and Sons, 1976.
Moore, Catherine L. The Best of Catherine L. Moore. N e w York: D e l Rey Books, 1975.
Mukherji, Kalinath. Popular Hindu Astronomy. 1905. Reprint. Calcutta: Sree Sarawaty
Press Ltd., 1969.
Mull er, W. Max. "Egyptian Mythology." In The Mythology of All Races, edited by Louis
Herbert Gray, vol. 12. Boston: Marshall Jones C o . , 1942.
Munsterberg, H u g o . The Arts of China. Rutland, Vt.: Charles E, Tuttle, 1972.
Myers, J. L. "Hesiod's 'Shield o f Herakles': Its Structure and Workmanship." Journal
of Hellenic Studies 61 (1941): 17-38.
 258 References

Napier, A. David. Foreign Bodies: Performance, Art, and Symbolic Anthropology. Berkeley:
University o f California Press, 1992.
N e u m a n n , Erich. The Great Mother. Translated by Ralph Mannheim. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1955.
. The Origins and History of Consciousness. Translated by R. F. C . Hull.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1954.
Nicholson, H. B., and Eloise Q u i n o n e s Keber. Art of Aztcc Mexico: Treasures of
Tenochtitlan. Washington, D C . : National Gallery o f Art, 1983.
Oakley, John H. "Perseus, the Graiae, and Aeschylus' Phorkides." American Journal of
Archaeology 92(3) (July 1988): 383-391.
Olson, Valerie F " O l m e c Magnetite Mirror: Optical, Physical, and Chemical
Characteristics." Applied Optics 23 (15 D e c e m b e r 1984): 4471-76.
"Origin o f the Gargoyle, T h e . " Architect and Contract Reporter, April 8, 1904, 243-44.
Ottino della Chiesa, Angela. The Complete Paintings of Leonardo da Vinci, London:
Wcidenfeld and Nicolson, 1967.
O v i d [Publius Ovidius NasoJ. Metamorphoses. Translated by Mary M . Innes.
H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin Books, 1955.
Palitch, a Farmer [ Johann Georg]. "Further Observations upon Algol." Transactions
of the Royal Society of London 74 (1784): 5.
. "Observations on the Obscuration o f the Star Algol." Transactions of the
Royal Society of London 74 (1784): 4.
Pannekoek, A. A History of Astronomy. London: G e o r g e Allen and Unwin, 1951.
Pausanias. Guide to Greece. Translated by Peter Levi. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin
Books, 1971.
Payne, H u m f r y Necrocorinthia: A Study of Corinthian Art in the Archaic Period. 1930.
Reprint. College Park, Md.: M c G r a t h Publishing Co., 1971.
Peters, Christian Heinrich Friedrich, and Edward Ball Knobel. Ptolemy's Catalogue of
the Stars: A Revision of the Almagest. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institution of
Washington, 1915.
Phillips, G r a h a m , and Martin Keatman. King Arthur: The True Story. N e w York:
R a n d o m House, 1992.
Phillips, Kyle M., Jr. "Perseus and A n d r o m e d a . " American Journal of Archaeology 72
(1967): 1-23.
Phinney, Edward, Jr. "Perseus' Battle with the Gorgons." Transactions and Proceedings
of the American Philological Association 102 (1971): 445-63.
Piggott, Stuart. Ancient Europe from the Beginnings of Agriculture to Classical Antiquity,
Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1965.
Pindar. The Odes. Translated by C . M. Bowra. H a r m o n d s w o r t h , Eng.: Penguin
Classics, 1969.
Pinsent, John. Greek Mythology. London: Paul H a m l y n , 1969.
Plato. Phaedrus. Translated with c o m m e n t a r y by C.J. Rowe. Wiltshire, Eng.: Aris and
Phillips, 1986.
— . Plato's Phaedrus. Translated w i t h c o m m e n t a r y by R. H a c k w o r t h . Cambridge:
C a m b r i d g e University Press 1952.
. "The Symposium" and "The Phaedrus": Plato's Erotic Dialogues. Translated with
c o m m e n t a r y by William S. C o b b . Albany: State University o f N e w York Press,
1993-
Pliny [Gaius Plinius Secundus]. Natural History. Translated by H. Rackham.
Cambridge, Mass.: L o e b Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1952.
Plutarch. Moralia. Translated by W. C . Helmhold. Cambridge, Mass.: L o e b Classical
Library, Harvard University Press, 1934.
Poison, Cyril John. The ScientiWc Aspects of Forensic Medicine. London: Oliver and
Boyd, 1969.
Poison, Cyril John, D.J. Gee, and Bernard Knight. The Essentials of Forensic Medicine.
4th ed. Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1985.
 References 259

Pope, Alexander. The Dunciad. 1729. Reprint, edited by James Sutherland, L o n d o n :

M e t h u e n , 1943.
Pratt, Annis, Dandng with Goddesses; Archetypes, Poetry, and Empowerment
B l o o m i n g t o n : Indiana University Press, 1994.
Prokopy, Ronald J. " S c a r e - e y e ™ Balloons for C o n t r o l l i n g Flocking Birds in
Orchards/' Fruit Notes 56(2) (Spring i99i):i6.
Rainwater, Catherine, and W i l l i a m J. Scheick, eds. Contemporary American Women
Writers: Narrative Strategies. Lexington: University Press o f K e n t u c k y 1985.
Redgrave, G. R. " T h e G a r g o y l e in Medieval Architecture." CdsseU's Magazine of Art 5
(1882): 462-63.
Reik, T h e o d o r e . " M o d e r n Medusa," American Imago 8 ( D e c e m b e r 1951): 323-28.
R i d g e w a y William. Journal of the Hellenic Sodety 20 (1900): 64.
Robbins. Miriam Dexter. Whence the Goddesses: A Source Book. N e w York: P e r g a m o n
Press, 1990.
Robertson, D. S. A Handbook of Greek and Roman Architecture. 2d ed. C a m b r i d g e :
C a m b r i d g e University Press, 1959.
Rose, H.J .A Handbook of Greek Mythology. N e w York: E. P. D u t t o n , 1959.
Rose, Peter. "Teaching G r e e k M y t h o l o g y and C o n f r o n t i n g C o n t e m p o r a r y Myths." In
Classics and Cinema, edited by Martin W. Winkler, 17-39. Cranbury, N.J.:
Associated University Presses, 1991.
Rudolph, C o n r a d . The "Things of Greater Importance": Bernard of Clairvaux's A p o l o g i a
and the Medieval Attitude toward Art. Philadelphia: University o f Pennsylvania
Press, 1990.
Sadie, Stanley, ed. The New Grove Dictionary of Opera. L o n d o n : Macmillan, 1992.
Sahade, Jorge, and Frank Bradshaw W o o d . Interacting Binary Stars. Oxford: Pergamon
Press, 1978.
Sarton, May. Collected Poems. Toronto: G e o r g e J. M c L e o d , 1974.
Scapperotti, D a n . "Ray H a r r y h a u s e n s Clash of the Titans." Cinrfantastique 10 (Winter
1980): 4-11, 38-45.
Schäfer, Edward H. Pacing the Void: Tang Approaches to the Stars. Berkeley: University
o f California Press, 1977.
Schaumberger, Johann. Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babel, Volume3. Muster in
Westfalen: Verlag der Aschendorffschen Verlagbuchhandlung, 1935,
Schnier, Jacques. " M o r p h o l o g y o f a S y m b o l : T h e O c t o p u s . " American Imago 13 (Spring
1956): 3-31-
Schuhmacher, Stephan, and G e r t Woegner. The Encyclopedia of Eastern Philosophy and
Religion. Boston: Shambhala, 1989.
Scott, A. P. H. "Aeschylus, Astronomy, and Sex." Unpublished paper, distributed at
N e w York Institute o f Technology, 1974. Cited in Shuttle and Redgrove, The Wise
Wound.
Sharer, Robert J. The Andent Maya. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1976.
Sheridan, Ronald, and A n n e Ross. Gargoyles and Grotesques: Paganism in the Medieval
Church. Boston: N e w York Graphic Society, 1975.
Shuttle, Penelope, and Peter Redgrove. The Wise Wound: Myths, Realities, and
Meanings of Menstruation. Rev. ed. N e w York: Grove Press, 1988.
Siebers, Tobin. The Mirror of Medusa. Berkeley: University o f California Press, 1983.
Simpson, Keith. Forensic Mediane. 6th ed. L o n d o n : Edward A r n o l d Publications, 1969.
Sinha, B. C. Hinduism and Symbol Worship. Delhi: A g a m Kala Prakashan, 1983.
Six, J. Spedmen Literarium Inaugurale de Gorgon. A m s t e r d a m : d e R o e v e r Kröver-Bakels,
1885.
Sjoo, Monica, and Barbara Mor. The Great Cosmic Mother. San Francisco, Calif.:
Harper and Row, 1987.
Slater, Philip. The Glory of Hera. Boston: Beacon Press, 1968.
Smith, Sidney " T h e Face o f H u m b a b a . " Annals of Archaeology and Anthropology 11
(1923): 107-14.
 260 References

S o d e r h j e l m , S. " W h a t D o W e K n o w a b o u t Algol?" In Close Binary Stars: Observations

and interpretation, edited b y M i r e k J . Plavec, D a n i e l M . Popper, and R o g e r K.
Ulrich, 217-19. D o r d r e c h t , H o l l a n d : D . Reidel Publishers, 1979.
S o u t h , M a l c o l m , ed. Mythical and Fabulous Creatures: A Source Book and Research Guide.
W e s t p o r t , C o n n . : G r e e n w o o d Press, 1987.
Spitz, W e r n e r U., and Russell S. Fisher, eds. Medicolegal Investigation of Death. 2d ed.
Springfield, 111.: C h a r l e s C . T h o m a s Pulications, 1973.
Staal, Julius D. W The New Patterns in the Sky. 1961. Reprint. Blacksburg, Va.:
M c D o n a l d and W o o d w a r d Publishing, 1988. (Originally published as Patterns in the
Sky.)
Starck, Marcia, and G y n ne Stern. The Dark Goddess: Dancing with the Shadows.
F r e e d o m , Calif.: C r o s s i n g Press, 1993.
S t e i n m a n , R. M., W. B. C u s h m a n , a n d A . J . Martins. " T h e Precision o f G a z e : A
R e v i e w . " Human Neurobiology 1 (1982): 97-109.
S t e r a n k o , James. The Steranko History of Comics. R e a d i n g , Pa.: S u p e r g r a p h i c s , 1970.
S t e w a r t , R o b e r t . Metamorphoses. Fantastic Films t ( O c t o b e r 1978): 20-24, 28-29.
Stokes, D o n a l d W A Guide to the Behavior of Common Birds. B o s t o n : Little, B r o w n ,
I979.

Strabo. Geography. Translated by H o r a c e L e o n a r d Jones. C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: L o e b

Classical Library, H a r v a r d University Press, 1949.
Stutley, Margaret, and J a m e s Stutley. Harper's Dictionary of Hinduism. N e w York:
H a r p e r and Row, 1977.
Suther, Judith D. " T h e G o r g o n M e d u s a , " in S o u t h , Mythical and Fabulous Creatures,
163-78.
Tashihiro, T s u b o i . Kokenchiku no Kawarayane. T o k y o : R i k o g a k u s h a , 1981.
— . Zukan Kawarayane. T o k y o : R i k o g a k u s h a , 1977.
Tasker, A n n . " R a y H a r r y h a u s e n T a l k s a b o u t H i s C i n e m a t i c M a g i c . " American
Cinematographer 62 (June 1981): 556-58, 600-615.
T a u b e , Karl. Aztec and Maya Myths. Austin: University o f Texas Press, 1995.
T h e l e w i t , Klaus. Male Fantasies. T r a n s l a t e d b y S t e p h e n C o n w a y . M i n n e a p o l i s :
University o f M i n n e s o t a Press, 1987.
T h e o c r i t u s . The Greek Bucolic Poets. T r a n s l a t e d b y J. M . E d m o n d s . C a m b r i d g e , Mass.:
L o e b Classical Library, H a r v a r d University Press, i960.
. The Poems of Theocritus. T r a n s l a t e d b y A n n a Rist. C h a p e l Hill: University o f
N o r t h C a r o l i n a Press, 1978.
T h o m p s o n , Eric S. Maya History and Religion. N o r m a n : University o f O k l a h o m a
Press, 1970.
T h o m p s o n , R. C a m p b e l l . The Epic of Gilgamesh. O x f o r d : O x f o r d University Press,
1930.
T i g a y , Jeffrey H . The Evolution of the Gilgamesh Epic. Philadelphia: University o f
P e n n s y l v a n i a Press, 1982.
Tolstoy, L e o . Childhood, Boyhood, Youth. T r a n s l a t e d b y L e o W i e n e r . Boston: D a n a
Estes and C o m p a n y , 1904.
Tripp, N a t h a n i e l . " S c a r e c r o w s : A Frightfully Safe D e t e r r e n t . " Horticulture, M a y 1987,
22-26.
T u r k , F. A.Japanese Objets d'Art. N e w York: Sterling Publications, 1962.
T y r r e l l , W i l l i a m Blake. Amazons: A Study in Athenian Mythmaking. B a l t i m o r e , Md.:
Johns H o p k i n s University Press, 1984.
Ulansey, D a v i d . The Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries: Cosmology and Salvation in the
Ancient World. N e w York: O x f o r d University Press, 1989.
Valentis, Mary, and A n n e D e v a n e . Female Rage: Unlocking Jts Secrets, Claiming Its
Powers. N e w York: C a r o l S o u t h e r n B o o k s , 1994.
Van Buren, E. D o u g l a s . Archaic Fictile Revetments in Sicily and Magna Graecia.
W a s h i n g t o n , D . C . : M c G r a t h P u b l i s h i n g C o . , 1973.
 References 261

. Greek Fictile Revetments in the Archaic Period. Washington, D.C.: M c G r a t h

Publishing C o . , 1973.
Vasari, Giorgio. The Great Masters. 1550-68. Reprint, translated by Gaston du C. de
Vere. N e w York: H u g h Lauter Levin, 1986.
Vaucouleurs, G e r a r d de. Discovery of the Universe: An Outline of the History of
Astronomy from the Origins to 1956. N e w York: Macmillan, 1957.
Velez, Diana, ed. and trans. Reclaiming Medusa: Short Stories by Contemporary Puerto
Rican Women. San Francisco, Calif.: Spinsters/Aunt Lute, 1988.
Virgil [Publius Vergilius Maro]. The Aeneid. Translated by R o b e r t Fitzgerald. N e w
York: Vintage Books, 1983.
Vitruvius. On Architecture. Translated by Frank Granger. C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: L o e b
Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1956.
Walker, Barbara. The Women's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco, Calif.:
Harper and Row, 1983.
Wallace, Lew. Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ. N e w York: Harper and Brothers, 1880.
Ward well, Allen. The Art of the Sepik River. Chicago: Art Institute o f Chicago, 197* •
Wasserman, Jack. " T h e Monster L e o n a r d o Painted for His Father." ïn Art Studies for
an Editor: Twenty-five Essays in Memory of Milton S. Fox, edited by F. Hartt, 261-65.
N e w York: Harry N. Abrams, (1975).
Watanabe, T o m i o . The Atlas of Legal Medicine. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1968.
W a u c h o p e , Robert, ed. Handbook of North American Indians. Austin: University o f
Texas Press, 1966.
Wells, G. A. Did Jesus Exist? L o n d o n : P e m b e r t o n Press, 1975.
W h i t e , T. H. The Bestiary: A Book of Beasts. N e w York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1954
Wilk, Stephen R. "Ancient Observations o f the Variability o f Algol." Double Star
Observer 3 (Winter 1995): 15-17.
. " M y t h o l o g i c a l Evidence for Ancient Observations o f Variable Stars." Journal
of the American Association of Variable Star Observers 24, no. 2 (1996): 129-33.
Willetts, William. Foundations of Chinese Art. N e w York: McGraw-Hill, 1965.
Wilner, Eleanor. " T h e Medusa C o n n e c t i o n . " Tri-Quarterly (Fall 1993): 104-32.
W i s s o w a , G e o r g . Paulys Realencyclopädie der Classischen Alterumswissenschaft. Stuttgart:
Alfred D r u c k e n m u l l e r Verlag, 1954.
W o o d , Ernest. Zen Dictionary. N e w York: Citadel Press, 1962.
W o o d , G e o f f r e y C . The Civil War: An Illustrated History. N e w York: Knopf, 1990.
W o o d w a r d , Jocelyn M. Perseus: A Study in Greek Art and Legend. 1937. Reprint, N e w
York: A M S Press, 1976.
Yarbus, Alfred L. Eye Movements and Vision. Translated by Basil Haigh. N e w York:
P l e n u m Press, 1967.
Yoke, H o Pen. The Astronomical Chapters of the Chin Shu. Paris: M o u t o n Press, 1966.
Yun, Qiao, and Sun D a z h a n g , eds. Ancient Chinese Architecture. H o n g Kong: China
Building Industry Press, Beijing and Joint Publishing C o . , 1982.
Zaslow, R. W "Myths." In Encyclopedia of Psychology, 2:415. N e w York; Wiley-
Interscience, 1984.
Z i m m e r , Heinrich. The Art of Indian Asia. N e w York: Pantheon, 1955.
Myths and Symbob in Indian Art and Civilization. N e w York: Pantheon, 1946.
 jnoex

Aardal, Edwin, 208 Alecto (Fury), 60-61,195» 249

Abas, 19,148 Alexander of Myndus, 89-91
Abydos, 46 Algol (variable star), 107,108,110-115,116,
Achilles, 145,346,147,149,188,246 120,121,122,123,124,127,128,131,132,135,
Acrisius, 19» 23,25,50,51,148, 204, 210,211, 137,140,141,142,143» 227,235,239,246
229,245 Algol, 114
Actaeon, 208 Alien, 206
Action Comics, 11,12 Alighieri, Dante, 194» i95
Adbhuta Ramayana, 69 A l k o m e n i a (Praxidike), 61
Adonis, 239 Allen, Richard Hinckley, 120,121,124,129
Aegis, 24, 42, 43,44,4% 48,49» 58, 81,90, Almagest. See Syntaxis
93, 145,148, 221 Alpha Orionis, See Betelgeuse
Aegisthus, 60 Amalthea, 43
Aegle (Hesperides), 216 Amasis, 47
Aelian (Claudius Aelianus), 91 Amazons, 25,217,220
Aeneas, 195 A m e n h o t e p IV. See A k h e n a t o n
Aeneid, 8, 6o-6it 194 American Imago, 101
Aeschylus, 7, 8,60,187 Americas, 77-82
A g a m e m n o n , 6,24,60,246 A m m o n , 212,213
Agenor, 23 Amores, 67
Agni, 69 Anatha, 220
A g r a , 88 Ancient Maya, The, 8or 82
A k h e n a t o n , 62,63 Andress, Ursula, 210
Akroterion, 38, 82 A n d r o m e d a , 22, 23, 26,33,54, 96,129,130,
Alalkomenia, 61 131, 137, 142, 193. 198, 210, 212, 213, 214,
Alcaeus, 23 215,227,229
 264 Index

A n d r o m e d a (constellation), 129,130,132, Ashe, Geoffrey, 9

W , 2.27, 29 Astronomica, 129
Andromeda (opera), 198 Athamas, 5, 6
Andromeda (play), 130 Athena, 8,17, 20,22,24,25,27,38,41,42,
Andromeda Liberata, 198 43» 44. 46, 48,49>$2> 53,58,96, 98,134»
Andromeda e Perseo, 198 136,137» 139,145,147» US, 159,210,212,
Angry Women, 217 214, 217, 219, 220, 227
Anliker, James, 246 Athenaeus, 88-90
Antefix, 163,164,165,166,183 Atlas, 8,133
Antefix (Chinese and Japanese), 165,167 Atropos (Fate), 59-60
Anthony, St., 77 Aulis (Praxidike), 61
Antigone, 188 Ault Hucknall, 84
Antiope, 220 Axayacatl, 78
Anubhavasikhamani, 68 Aztec Calendar Stone, 55,56,57,78,95,
Anubis, 62 234
Aphrodite (Venus), 210,212,217,219 Aztecs, 55,56,78,80,95,184
Apollo, 95,134,234
Apollo, temple at Metapontum (Italy), Bacchus, 180
167 Badawy, Alexander, 169
Apollodorus, 6, 7,18, 21, 22, 24, 26, 43, 46, Baez, Joan, 208
48, 60, 87,134,136,138,188,195, 211, 221, Baghdad, 57
228, 243 Barber, Chris, 9
Apollonia ad Rhynduium, 46 Barber, Paul, 234, 248
Apollonius of Rhodes, 6,7,18,87,139 Bar Freston, 84
Apologia, 161 Barong (Barong Keket), 73
Apotropaic device, 42, 84 Barr, Roseanne, 218
Apuleius, 4 Basilisk, 91
Aqua Sulis, 95 Baubo, 98
Aratus of Soli, 119 B a y e r j o h a n n e s , 107,117,119,127,128
Arcani Microcosmi, 204 Beaumont, Charles, 203
Archaic Fictile Revetments in Sicily and Bella C o o l a , 77
Magna Grecia, 171 Bellerophon, 8,135,136,137,138,142,212,
Ares, 58,147, 226 227, 240, 241
Arethusa (Hesperides), 216 Bellerus, 136
Argonautica, 6,7.18,139 Bengal, 69, 70,71
Argonauts, 5,7 Ben-Hur, 107
Argos, 17, i8,19,23, 24,26,38,138,142,148, Beowulf, 194
204-207, 211,213 Berliner Astronomischer Jahrbuch, 113
Argus, 93 Bernard of Clairvaux, St., 161-162,170,
Aristophanes, 54 247
Aristotle, 101 Bes, 62-63, 64,65,94,184,185,229
Artemis, 217, 219 Beset, 63
Artemis, temple at Corcyra, 39 Bestiary, 204
Artemis Ortheia, sanctuary of, 36 Beta Persei. See Algol
Arthur, King, 9,10 Beta Lyrae (variable star), 114
Artorius Rex Discovered, 9 Betelgeuse (variable star), 132
 Index 265

Bierce, A m b r o s e , 183 Calibos, 210-214

Birt, W D., 246 Callirhoe, 22
Bishop, Zelia, 249 C a m p , L y o n Sprague, de, 215
Blackett, Baram, 9 C a m p b e l l , John, n
Blankenberg, C., 94 C a m p b e l l J o s e p h , 3, 68,76,229
B l o o m , Ciaire, 210, 249 Caputi J a n e , 218-219
Bly, Robert, 3 C a r a v a g g i o , Michaelangelo, 196,197
Bobrovnikoff, N, T., 122 Carbe, Nino, 208
Bodaidaruma. See B o d h i d h a r m a Caria, 136
Bodhidarma, 76 77 Carlson, Robert, 208
Boeotia, 5, 6,36, 61 Carlson J , B., 240
Bologna, 54 C a r m e n t a , 221
Bolt, Robert, 210 Carriere, Matthieu, 208
B o n d j a m e s , 27 Carter, Lin, 215
Bone, Neil, 126 Cassiopeia (Cassiepeia), 22-24, 212, 213,
The Book of the Sword, 28 229
Boothroyd, Major, 27 Cassiopeia (constellation), 130,132,133,
Boreas, 87-88 227
B o r g l u m , G u t z o n , 168 Catoblepas, 92,186
B o r n e o , 83,172» 188 Cecrops, 93, 214
Boulding, Elise, 221 Cellini, Benvenuto, 29,198,199, 200
Boulliau, Ismael. See Bullialdus Centaurs, 88, 93
Bowers, Susan P , 221 C e p h e i d meteorites, 242
B o w k e r j u d i , 213 C e p h e i d variable stars, 115
Brahe, T y c h o , 108,109 C e p b e u s , 22, 23, 211,212,229
Braidwood, T h o m a s , 111 C e p h e u s (in m y t h o f Hercules), 134,135
Brueghel, Pieter the Elder, 189 C e p h e u s (constellation), 130,131,132,133,
Brühl, C o u n t , de, 114 227
Brussels A c a d e m y i n Cerberus, 24, 93.136, 2ro
Brut, 9 Cetus. See K e t o s
Bubo, 213, 214 C e t u s (constellation), 122,130,131,132,133,
Budapest, Z.» 220 227
Bulfinch, T h o m a s , 200 C h a r c o t J . M., 190
Bullialdus, 109,112 C h a r o n , 213
Bunraku, 210, 249 Chavin, 81,184,186
Burne-Jones, Edward, 200 C h i c a g o J u d y , 220
B u r n h a m , Robert, 110,116,183 C h i C y g n i (variable star), 14,132
Burnham's Celestial Handbook, n o , 114,116, C h i e n K'ang. See N a n k i n g
183 Childhood, Boyhood, Youth, 189-190
Burton, Sir Richard Francis, 28, 29 C h i m a e r a , 22, 88,136,137,138,142,175»
Buswell, G. T., 152 227
Butades, 163,164,17t China, 73-76, 82. 84,94,123
C h i n Shu (star), 123
Cadmus, 5 C h o u , 75
Calcutta, 70,72 C h r é t i e n de Troyes, 10
Caliban, 21, 249 Chrysaor, 22, 23, 37,38,39, 4 6 , 4 s . 49, 50,
 266 Index

Chrysaor (continued), 99,102,138, ijq, 140» Cushing, Peter, 207

142,147,209,214,227, 235 Cyclades, 19, 20
Chrysococca, 120 Cyclops, 17, 93
Cicero, Marcus Tullius, 43,119 Cyprus, 48,193
Circus of Dr. Lao, The, 3, 84, 201,225
Clair, Jean, 98 Dakshineswar, 70,72
Clampett, Bob, 202 Danae, 19, 20,23, 24,50,51, 204-207, 210,
Clash of the Titans, 209-215, 249 212,215, 229,240
Claudius the God, 95 Danae and shower of gold, 26,30,51,52,
Clement o f Alexandria, 95 227,229, 245
Cliges, 10 Danaids, 19
Cline, Thomas, 151 Danaus, 19
Close, Glenn, 218 Dancing with Goddesses, 224
C l o t h o (Fate), 59-60 Danforth,Jim, 203
Clytemnestra, 6,60 Daniel, C. E., 178
Coatlicue, 78,79 D'Annunzio, Gabriele, 196
Cocijo, 80,82 Daphne, 219
Coins, Gorgons on, 33,34,43, 46,95 Darling, Wendy, 148
Collyer, Bud, 12 Daruma doll, 76-77,172,174
Columbus, Christopher, 193 Davis, Desmond, 209
Comus (masque), 198 Decomposition, 186-190
Conjeeveram, 76 Deeming, Barbara, 222
Conover, Michael J., 174 Defoe, Daniel, 186
Conspiracy of Catiline, 90 Deimos (panic), 58
Cont du Graal, 10 Deino (Graiae), 20, 59
C o o k , Arthur Bernard, 41,43,45» 49,57, Dcipnosophists, The, 88-90
62,139,157,185,232,235,245 Deliades, 136
Corcyra, 38,39,99 Delphi, 58-59,187, 226,228
C o r f u , 38,39, 46, 235 Delta Cephei (variable star), 114,131,141
Corinth, 17,23,35,37,38,46,136,138,142 Demoniaques dans l'Art, Les, 190
Cornsweet, T. N., 151 Dent, Lester, 10
Cott, H u g h B., 172 Derbyshire, 84
Covarrubias, Miguel, 81-82,184 Devane, Anne, 218
Crab Nebula, 109 Devil, 228
Crane, H. D., 151 Devil's Dictionary, The, 183
Crawford, O. G. S., 178 Devi Mâhàtmya, 69
Crawling Bye, The, 250 Devine, J. Llewellyn, 207
Croesus, King, 204-207 Did Jesus Exist?, 239
Croesus Latitarsus. See Sawfly larva Diktys, 20, 23,2ii, 229, 240
Croon, J. H., 95 Dil-Gan (constellation), 122
Cross, Beverley, 209, 210, 213 Diner, Helen, 220
Cthulhu, 215 DinnerParty, The, 220
Cuauhxicalli. See Aztec Calendar Stone Diodorus Siculus, 25,43
Culpepper, Emily Erwin, 217, 218, 219, 220 Dionysius Skytobrachion, 4,25,43, 89,
Cultural materialism, 230-232 148,220
Cultural Materialism, 230 Dionysus, 164,171
 Index 267

Dioskourides, 156 Europe, 83-84

Dis, 195 Euryale (Gorgon), 2 1 , 2 2 , 3 3 , 3 5 , 4 1 , 4 8 , 4 9 ,
Discovery of King Arthur, The, 9 57,102,125,216, 248,249
Disney Studios, 249 Eurydice, 208
Divine Comedy, 194 Eurynomos, 57, 59,187,188,226, 228
D o c Savage, 10, n Evans, W D,, 234
Doctorow, E. L., 25 Eve Meets Medusa, 223-234
Dodge, Raymond, 151 Exact Sciences in Antiquity, The, 122
Donenfeld, Harry, n Exorcist, The, 65
Double Stars, 121 Eye Goddess, The, 178, I8D
Dresdenische Gelehrte Anzeigen, 113 Eye Movements and Vision, 153-155
Dunciad, 24,198
Durga, 73 Fabricius, David, 108
Dyaks, 43 Fabricius, Johann, 108
D y k c w o m o n , Elana, 219 Face of the Earth: Frontality in Mesoameri-
canArt, The, 56, 78, 79,149, 244
Eagle's Bowl. See Aztec Calendar Stone Face of glory. See Kirtimukkha
Echidna, 136,219 Faces of Death, 249
Echo, 208 Facius,J., 94
Eckholm, G. F., 185 Faîk, Lee, 243
Edinburgh, HI Fang Ting, 74,
Eggen, OlinJ., ri5 Fantasia, 208
Egypt, 31, 62-63, 94 Fatal Attraction, 218
Electryon, 23 Fates, 59-60,159, 249
Eleusis, 37,46 Father Time, 241
Elias-Button, Karen, 222 Female Rage: Unlocking Its Secrets, Claiming
Elworthy, F. T., 100,121,164,171,185, 232, Its Power, 218
233 Ferenczi, Sandor, 98
Enkidu, 64 Finney, Charles Grandison, 3, 87, 201,225
Enyo (Graiae), 20,59 First Man in Rome, The, 90
Eratosthenes, 119 Fisher, John, 189
Erechtheus, 87 Fisher, Terence, 207
Eric et Enide, 10 Fleetwood, Susan, 210
Ericson,John, 203 Fleming, Andrew, 178
Erinyes. See Furies Flugel, J. C., 98
Erlangga, 73 Folk-Lore Society (London), 100
Erotes, Tomb of, 44, 45 Forbidden Planet, 225
Erythia (Hesperides), 216 Forensic Medicine, 187
Estes, Clarissa, 3 Foster, Alan Dean, 215
Eta Aquilae (variable star), 114,132 Fourth Eclogue, 194
Eta Aurigae (variable star), 122 Fraser, Douglas, 185
Ethiopia, 22, 26,134 Frazer, Sir James George, 21, 200
Eudoxos o f Cnidos, 119 Freud, Sigmund, 55, 97-98,101
Eumenides. See Furies, 66 Frobisher, 193
Eumenides, 60,187 Frontisi-Ducroux, Françoise, 178
Euripides, 7, 8, 25, 54,130,148,191 Frothingham, 95
 268 Index

Furies, 59, 60-61,93,187-188,195, 249 Gorgon, 4, 8, 14, 20, 21, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28,
Furness building, 169 31-47,49, 59, 60, 62, 84, 88, 90-104,120,
Furtwangler, 31,93 121,124,125,131, 134,139,140,142,143,
145,147,148.150,159,161-181,183-191,
Gaddiano, Anonimo, 196 194,195,198, 200, 209, 213, 214, 215, 219,
Gaedechens, E. R., 95 220, 225, 228, 233, 235, 243, 244. 245, 249
Gaia, 25,211 archaic, 31,32,34» 47.55» 56,57,58,235
Gaiman, Neil, 216 as aurora, 95
Gaines, M. C., 11 beautiful or late, 33,34, jy, 41,57
Gaius Marius, 90 as fear, 94-95
Galen, 89 as gorilla, 94, 229
Galilei, Galileo, 108 and hot springs, 95
Gallinor, 204-207 as Hon, 94, 229
G a m m a Cassiopeia (variable star), middle or transitional, 33
131-132,141,246 as moon, 95,234,245
G a m m a Persei (variable star), 246 as nightmare, 95
Gargoyles, 83-84,161-181,229 as octopus/squid, 100-104,227,229,
Gartner, Christian, 113 234
Garuda, 248 as scarecrow, 229
Gaster, Theodore, 65 as sun, 95, 234
Gates of Heil (sculpture), 200 as symbol of female rage, 217 -224
Gavrinis, 178 as vulva, 98-99,229
Genesis, 136 Gorgon, The, 207-209
Geoffrey of Monmouth, 9 "Gorgon, The", 201, 217
Geography, 89 Gorgoneion, 31, 32,, 40, 42, 43,44, 47, 50, 54,
Gerhard, E., 95 57, 81, 93, 100,146,147, J49, j66, 172,176,
Germanicus Caesar, 119 190, 235, 237, 246
Gerojannis, K., 94 Die Gorgonen und Vcrwantes, 93
Geryones, 22,195 The Gorgon's Head and Other Literary
Gesner, Konrad, 101 Pieces, 200
Gilgamesh, 64-65, 84 Gorgon video, 249
Gilgamesh, Epic of 64 Gorgophone, 23
Gill, Sarah, 83 Gossips, Gorgons, and Crones, 218-219
Gilling,John, 207 Graiae, 20, 26, 51-53,59,102,104,125,127,
Gimbutas, Marija, 244 128,131,141,142, 209, 213, 227,249
Gladiator, 10,11 Grasamukha, 66
Glutton, 74,75 Graves, Robert, 6,14,28,95-97, 99,134,
Golden Apples of Hesperides, 133» 216 219-220, 221, 229
Golden Ass, 4 Great Bear. See Ursa Major
Golden Fleece, 3,5, 6,14,209 The Great Cosmic Mother, 220
Goldman, Bernard, 94 Great Head, 77
Goodrich, N o r m a Lor re, 9,220 Greek Fictile Revetments in the Archaic
Goodricke, John, 111-115,131,141 Period, 171
Goold, G. P., 129-130,246 The Greek Myths, 14,95-97
Gorgo, 61 Green, G. ï L, 101
Gorgo, 196 Grendel, 194
 Index 269

Grotesques, 83 -84,175 Herschel, William, HI, 112,114,115

Grey, Lady Jane, 189 Herse, 208
Guerra, Mario, 210 Hesiod, 18, 22,59,140, 235
Guerrero, 80, 82 Hesione, 27, 134,135,137,142
Herpere (Hesperides), 216
Hades» 7,21,22,27,28,61,140,187,194» Hesperides, 133, 216
210, 221, 226 Hevelius, Johannes (Heweliusza), 108-110
Haida, 77 Hipparchus, 119,125,127
Haliartos, 61 Hippogorgon, 36,37,135
Halley's C o m e t , 113 Hiryakashipu, 68
Hamilton, Edith, 6,17, 200 Historia Animalium, 101
Hampshire, Susan, 208 Historiola Deila Mira Stellae, 108-109
Handbook of Greek Mythology, 101 Histories, 22,130
Harpe (sword), 21, 28,48,49,128,134,140, History of Four-Footed Beasts, 91-92
142, 229,241 History of the Kings of Britain, 9
Harpies, 195 Hoffman, Gotthold, 113
Harris, Marvin, 230-232 Hogarth, William, 241
Harrison, Jane, 60,187,188 Holmes, Sherlock, 195
Harryhausen, Ray, 209-215 Holwarda, Phocylides, 108
Hartland, Edwin, 14 Homer, 4. 8, 24,35, 57,58, 60, 93> 136,145»
Hathor, 62 195,228
Hay, 95 Homoelle, 95
Head of the Medusa, 197-199 Hopkins, Clark, 65, 84, 95,185
The Hebrew Myths, 95 Horus, 62
Hecate (Hecate Trevia), 59» 62 Hoskin, Michael, i n
Hector, 145,188 H o w e , Thalia Phyllies (Feldman), 8, 93,
Heinsiuus, Gottfried, 113 232
Heintz, Wulff D , 121 Hsin T'sun, 73
Heleus, 23 Hsing Ching, 123
Hell, 194, 195, 228 Huher, Daniel, 115
Helle, 5, 8 Humbaba (Huwawa), 55, 64,6y, 84,184,
Henry VIII of England, 189 229
Hephaestus (Vulcan), 145,147, 213 Hunchback of Notre Dame, 174
Hera, 98,91, i95,210,212,217,219 Hyades (constellation), 145
Hera, temple at Croton, 167 Hydra, 136,198, 209, 241
Hercules (Heracles), 24, 27,44,46,133, Hyginus, 7, 23,25,120
134,135,137.142,191» 200, 209,216, 221, Hyman, Prudence, 208
227,241
Hercules, 3,249 Iatmul, 149
Hermes, 17,20, 21, 24, 27,47, 48,49,52, 53, /, Claudius, 95
96,101,208,209,210, 217, 221 Iliad, 6, 8,24,45,58,93,145,188, 212,246
Hermotimus, 88 India, 66-72, 84,123
Herodotus, 22,43,128-130 Indonesia, 72-73,94
Hero with a Thousand Faces, 3, 229 Inquiry into Birds, 89-90
Herrick, Edward, 246 Ino, 5,7
Herschel, John, 114 lo, 219
 270 Index

lobâtes» 136-138 Kibisis (wallet), 21,23,28,33,48,49,54,96,

Ion, 8,25» 148 102,139,141,142, 214
Iphigenia, 6,219 King Arthur, 9
Iron John, 3 King Arthur: The True Story, 9
Iroquois, 77 King, Stephen, 170
Isis, 221 King Kong, 206
Jt Camefrom Beneath the Sea, 211 Kinsley, David R., 68-69
Ixion, 5 Kirch, Christfried, n o
Kirtimukkha (face of glory), 55,66-68,72,
Jaffa. See Joppa 84, 94,148,184,194,233, 239
Jaguar God, 149 Klee, Paul, 200
Jahn, Otto, 98 Klein, Cecelia E, 56,78,79,149,244
Jaina Island, 80 Kliban, B., 228
Janus, 239 Knapp, Elizabeth, 190-191
Japan, 76-77» 82,84 Knight, Richard Paine, 98
Jason, 5 Kraken, 100, ioi, 210,211,213,214
Jason and the Argonauts, 209-210 Kronos, 241
Jones, Charles M., 202 Kugler, Franz Xavier, 122
Jones, Ernest, 98 Kumarasambhava, 69
Joppa, 22, 26,193-194,211,212, 213, 214 Kumel, Harry, 208
Joseph, 136 Kümmernis, St., 13
Journey to Avalon, 9 Kuo P o , 75
Judah, 26 Kwakiutl, 77
Jugurtha, 90 Kylix (eye cup), J77
Juno. See Hera Kyrenaike (hydria), 41

Kala-Makara, 66,68 Lacedaemonians, 134

Kali (Smashan Kali), 68-72,84,184,188, Lachesis (Fates), 59-60
221 LaFond, 173
Kalidasa, 69 Lambda Persei (Tsi-Chou, star), 140
Kaligata. See Calcutta Lambda Tauri (star), 132
Kalimantan, 83 Lament of Danae, 19
Karanova, 244 Lamia, 73
Karnak, 116 Lampedo, 220
Kay, Charles, de, 169 Lancelot, 10
Kayan, 172 Lane, Lois, 6, n - 1 3
Kaye, Laura, 219 Landolt, Hans Heinreich, 150-151
Keatman, Martin, 9 Langdon, Stephen Herbert, 65
Kent, 84 Laomedon, 134
Kent, Clark, 6,11-13 Laon Cathedral, 167
Keraunos (thunderbolt), 14 Larissa, 23, 26
Ketos (Cetus), 21,22, 26,33,54,127,131, Larson, Gary, 4,228
142,194, 211,220,227 St. Lawrence, tears of, 245-246
in myth of Hercules, 27,134-135, 227,241 Lawrence of Arabia, 210
Khnum, 62 Layamon, 16
 Index 271

Lean, David, 210 Maori, 82,184,186

Learches, 5 Maraldi, n o , 114
Lee, Christopher, 207 Marduk, 28,134
Lee, Tanith, 201 Mark, 26
L e o (constellation), 127 Martino, Luciano, 210
Lesche, 58-59, 228 Maskelyne, Nevil, m - 1 1 2
Lettvin, Jerome Y., 101-104,121-122,124, Masks of God, The, 3
132, 227, 232, 233, 245 Matino, Alberto, de, 206
Levenzow, 95 Matthew, 26
Lexikon, 93, 99 Maxell, Bob, 12
Ley, Willy, 101, 232 Maya History and Religion, 81
Libation Bearers, 60,188 Mayans, 80-81, 82,149,150,159,184
Liberata, St., 13 Mayavati. See Algol
Library, 18,195 Mayer, 98
Libya, 43, 95 McCarthy, Neil, 212
Lilith, 73,120 M c C o o l , Finn, 240
Lilitu, 73 McTiernan, John, 215
Lives, 90 Mediterranean Sea, 102,103
Lives of the Artists, 195-196 Medusa, 15,17,21,23, 24, 26, 27,33,36,38,
St. Livrade, 13 39,41, 46,47,49,57, 59, 96,102,104,
Locke, John, 246 U7,121,125,127,128,135,138,139,140,
Louvre, 36, 40,135 141, 143,145,147,183,188,195,196,198,
Lovat, Lord Friser, de, 189 200, 202, 203, 204-209, 210, 2ii, 213, 214,
Lovecraft, Howard Phillips, 215,249 216, 217, 218, 220, 221, 223, 224, 227, 235,
Lowick, 84 249
Lucian, 89,92 M E D U S A (organization), 218,220
Lully, Jean-Baptiste, 198,206 Medusa Against the Son of Hercules. See
Lupton, Froggi, 217 Perseo Vlnvincibile
Lu Pu-Wei, 75 Medusa's Coil, 249
Lu Shih C h u n Ch'iu, 75 Medusa's Head. See "Medusenhaupt, Das"
Lycia, 136 "Medusenhaupt, Das", 55, 97
Lynceus, 19 Megaera (Fury), 60-61,195, 207
Megapenthes, 23
Macbeth, 213 Melicertes, 5
Macbeth, Lady, 218 Melos, 244
Madness of Hercules, 191 M e m n o n , 146
Magazine of Art, 168 Meredith, Burgess, 212
Mahabharata, 69 Merlin, 9,10
Malatimadhava, 69 Mesopotamia, 64-65
Malory, Sir Thomas, 10, 24 Mestor, 23
Malpertuis, 208-209 Metamorphoses, 6,18, 21, 42, 208-209
Mandeville, Sir John, 193-194 Meteors, 126
Manelli, Francesco, 198 Metope, 39
Mania, 241 Meyer, Eduard, 64
Manilius, 120,129 Mictecacihuatl, 79, 80,188
 272 Index

Midas o f Akragas, 41-42 N e w Caledonia, 83,188

Miletus, 99 N e w g r a n g e , 116,178
Miller, Arthur, 98 N e w Guinea, 83,172
Milton, John, 198, 228 N e w Ireland, 83,188
Minerva. See Athena New Patterns in the Sky, The„ 121
Minotaur, 93 N e w Zealand, 82-83,100,172,188
Mira (variable star), 107-110, no, i n , 112, Ngadju, 83
113-116,122,127-128,131» 137,141.142, Nikator, 46
227 Nikias, 54
Mistress of Animals, 99 Nineveh, 100
Mithras, 241 N o a h , 193-194
Moerae. See Fates N o o t k a , 77
Montanari, Geminiano, no, 114 Northern Exposure, 3
Montford, Denys, de, 211 Northumberland, 84
M o o r e , A. D.,130 Nova Stella, de, 109
M o o r e , Catherine L., 201 N y m p h s , 20,21,23,26,27,101
Mor, Barbara, 220
Moralia, 89 Oaxaca, 80
More, Sir T h o m a s , 189 Ocean (stream), 21
Morte d'Arthur, Le, 10,24 O c e a n (Titan), 22
Moses and Monotheism, 97 O ' C o n n e l l , Arthur, 203
M o t h e r Goddess (Great Mother), 99 Ocuius (eye-spot) on ships, 247-248
Mothers and Amazons, 220 Odysseus (Ulysses), 24,59,124,228
Moyers, Bill, 3 Odyssey, 6,8,57,95,140, 28
Mukherji, Kalinath, 123 Oedipus, 165
Muller, Max, 62 O h m , J., 151
Mundaka Upanishad, 69 Olaus Magnus, ioo, 101 211
Murdoch, Iris, 217, 249 Olbers, Wilhelm, 113
Severed Head, A, 217 Olivier, Sir Laurence, 210, 217
The Muse as Medusa, 221-222 O l m e c , 240
Mysia, 46 O l y m p u s , 5,136
Mythology, 17 O l y m p u s , Mount, 23
O m i c r o n Ceti. See Mira
Nanking, 76 Onigawara (tile), 167
Naples, 103 On the Medusa of Uonardo da Vinci in
Narasimha, 68 Florentine Gallery, 196
Narcissus, 208 Operas, 198,206
Natural History, 91 Oreithuia, 87-88
Nauplia, 36 Orestes, 60
Necrocorinthia, 31 Orestes, 60
Negri, Filippo, 196 O r i o n (constellation), 132,145
Neith, 220 O r p h e u s , 208
Nephele, 5 , 6 Osiris, 239
Nereids, 22,146,147 Ossa, Mount, 23
Neugebauer, Otto, 122 O t D a n u m , 83
N e u m a n n , Erich, 99 Otthi, 95
 Index 273

Ötzi, 7 208-209, 210, 212, 213, 221, 227, 229, 234,

Orpheus and Orphies» 95 240, 243» 248, 249
O v i d (Publius Ovidius Naso), 4,6, 8,18, Perseus (constellation), 125,127,128,129,
21» 24,26,42,59» 133» 195» 208, 209, 214 130,132,133,229,235,241
PERSEUS (device), 246
Pacific cultures, 82-84 Perseus: A Study in Greek Art and Legend,
Pacing the Void, 123 47» 50» 52
Padmapurana, 67 Perseus and the Gorgon's Head, 210,211. See
Pal, George, 10, 202-204 also Clash of the Titans
Palatine Anthology, 156 Perseus Holding the Head of Medusa,
Palermo, 37, 39 198-199, 200
Palitzsch, Johann Georg, 112-115,141 Peru, 81,100
Pallas (giant), 43,148 Peter Pan, 148
Paradise Lost, 198 Phaedrus, 87 88
Paris Academy of Science, 111,113 Phaedrus, 87-88
Parks, Fanny, 71 Phansigars, 71
Parthenon, 167 Phantom, The, 243
The Patriot. See Philopatris Pherekydes, 18,19,21,23,26,59, 87,243
Patterson, Ray, 208 Phillips, Graham, 9
Patroclus, 145 Philonoe, 136,137
Pausanias, 7,14, 25, 26, 46,58-59, 87,187, Philopatris, 92
220 Philosophia in a Feminist Key, 2.17
Payne, Humfrey, 31» 183 Phineus, 22,132, 210,211
Pazuzu, 65 Phobos (fear), 57,58,99,158,159,226
Pegasus, 8, 22,23,38,39» 46,48,49,50, 62, Phorkides. See Graiae
88, 99, 102,137, ijg, 140,142,147,198, Phorkys, 20,21, 25,26,52, 53,59,127,220
209, 210, 214, 227, 235 Phrynichus, 54
Pegasus (constellation), 130, r32,133,137, Phryxus, 5,7, 8
138,140, 235 Picasso, Pablo, 200
Peloponnese, 17 Pigott, Edward, 111-115,141
Pemphredo (Graiae), 20, 59 Pigott, Nathaniel, in
Penthesilea, 220 Pindar, 7, 20, 41-42,46,125,136
Perceval, 10 Plato, 87-88
Persée, 198 Pleiades (constellation), 145
Perseid Meteors, 125,126,127,141, 227, 235, Pliny the Elder (Gaius Plinius Secundus),
241, 245, 246 54,91,163,164
Perseo, 198 Ploog, Mike, 208
Perseo I 'Invincibile (Perseus the Invincible), Plutarch, 89, 90, 95
204 207, 209,215 Pluto. See Hades
Persephone, 228 Pointer Sisters, 208
Perses, 23 Pollux, Julian, 244
Persia. 23 Polydektes, 20,24, 54,135, 211, 229, 243
Perseus, 8, 14,15,17-29, 33, 36, 37,47, 48, Polyeidus, 136
49, 50. 51, 52,XM4» 57» 84, 96, 99» 101,117, Polygnotos, 58
121, 125,129,130,131,133,134,135, 136, Pompeii, 167
137,138,139,142.145.148, 204-207, Pope, Alexander, 24,198
 274 Index

Popular Hindu Astronomy, 123 Repin, I. E., 152,155

Porky Pig, 202 Re/Search, 217
Porky's Hero Agency, 202 Rho Persei (variable star), 122,131,141
Poseidon, 6,22,24,32,53,69,134,135,210, Richer, Paul, 190
211,220 Ridgeway, William, 43,45,90,94
Potiphar, 136 Robbins-Dexter, Miriam, 180
Pralahda, 68 Rodin, Auguste, 200
Pratt, Annis, 224 Rolling Stones, 208
Praxidikae, 59,61-62,69 Roman de Brut, 10
Praxinoa, 61-62 Romantic Agony, The, 200
Praz, Mario, 199 Rondanini Medusa, 41,46
Predator, 215 R o o f tiles, 163-167
Priestesses, 220 Roscher, W i l h e l m Heinrich, 31,33,35, 93,
Priestley, J. A., 249 99
Princeton University, 168 Rose, H. J., 101,232
Proetus, 19,136,137,148 Ross, Alexander, 204
Prokles, 25 Royal Society o f London, HI, 112,114,115
Prokopy, Ronald J., 173,174 Royal Soäetyof London journal of the, 112,
Prose di Signore Academici Gelati de 114
Bologna, n o Rubens, Peter Paul, 196,198,199
Prospero, 211
Pseudo-Eratosthenes, 119,127,130 Sabula, L. Cossutius, 96
PsychotronicEncyclopedia of Film, 208 Saccadic motion, 151,153
Ptolemy, Claudius, 108,118,119,120,127 Sahade, Jorge, 123
Pykit, David, 9 Salem witchcraft, 190-191
Pyramid texts, 62 Sallust, 90
Salmoneus, 6
Quetelet, Adolphe, 246 Sandman; The Ktn<% Ones, 216
Quintus Smyrnaeus, 93 Sarawak, 83
Sargent, John Singer, 200
R C o r o n a e Borealis (star), 115 Sargon o f Agade, 64
R Hydrae (star), 112 Sarton, May, 221
Radermacher, L,, 245 Satyr, 166
Rahu, 66,67,68 Sawfly larva {Croesus latitarsus), 235,236,
R a h u r m u k h a , 66 237
Rairni, Sam, 3 Schäfer, Edward H., 123
Rama, 70 SchaumbergerJ o h a n n , 122
Ramakrishna, 70 Schnier, Jacques, 101,232
Rambaldi, Carlo, 206 Scholiast, 18
Ramprasad, 70 Schuster, Joe, 11
Randall, Tony, 202-203 Schwartzenegger, Arnold, 215
Rangda, 72,73,184 Scorpio (constellation), 127
Ravana, 70 Scott, A . P., 245
Reclaiming Medusa, 221 Scylla, 219
Redgrave, G. R., 168 Seleukos, 46
 Index 275

Selinus, 39 A Songfor Gorgons, 222-223

Sepik River (Iatmul), 83,149,150,159,184 Sophocles, 7,25,54,130,188
Seriphos, 19, 22, 23, 25, 26, 95,134,204-207, Sparta, 17,36,226
211 Sphinx, 165
Sessler, Levina, n i Staal, Julius D. W., 121,131,141
The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao, 202-204» 209 Star Names and Their Meanings, 120
The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, 214 Star Trek, 7,248
Severed Head, A, 217 Star Wars, 213
Sewell, William, 115 Stebbins, J. C , 115
Shamash, 64,65 Sternkunde und Sterndienst im Babel, 122
"Shambleau", 201,217 Sterope, 134
Shang, 73 Stheneboea, 136-138
Sharer, Robert J., 80, 82 Sthenlaus, 23
SheDevil, 218 Stheno (Gorgon), 21, 22,33,35» 41» 48,49»
Shelley, Barbara, 207-208 57,102,125, 216, 248, 249
Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 196,197 Stonehenge, 116
Shensi, 75 Strabo, 89
Shepherd, Rev. A n t h o n y 112 Stygian witches, 213
Shield of Hercules, 18, 21,31,58, 59, 60,145, Styx, river, 213
158, 215, 243-244, 247, 249 Al-Sufi, R a m a h , 117,118,128
Shiva, 67, 68, 70 SU.GI (constellation), 122
Sicily, 37,38 Sully, Maurice, de, 165
Siegel, Jerome, 11 Sumatra, 73
Sigman,Jorg, 196 Superman, 10-14, 243
Silenus, 166 Sword and the Flute, The, 68
S i m h a m u k k h a , 66, 94 Syama Praharanam, 69
Simhika, 68 Symposium, 89
Simonides o f Keos, 19, 87,212 Syntaxis, 108, n 8 , 1 1 9
Simpson, Keith, 187 Syracuse, 38
Sinister Wisdom, 219
Singa, 73,94 Takashi, 208-209
Siret, L., 101 T a i w a n , 244
Sirius (star), 107,245 T ' a o T i e h , 74, 75, 76, 94.186
Sisias, 73 Tarsus, 46
Sisyphus, 136 Tecpatl, 78
Six, J., 95 Tegea, 46
Sjoo, Monica, 220 Tell Asmar, 57
Skandapurana, 67 Tempest, The, 211
Skiathos, 210 The Temple of My Familiar, 220
Slater, Philip, 98 Tennson, Alfred Lord, 211
Sleeman, William, 71 Teotihuacan, 80,82
Smith, M a g g i e , 210 Thebes, 5
Smith, Sidney, 64 T h e l e w i t , Klaus, 98
Socrates, 87-89 Theixinia (Praxidike), 61
"A Solution o f the G o r g o n M y t h " , 100 T h e o c r i t u s of Syracuse, 61-62
 276 Index

Theogeny, 22,140 Ursa Major (constellation), 145

Theseus, 195 Ustinov, Peter, 209
Thetis, 147,210,2ii, 212, 213, 217,219
They Witt Know Me by My Teeth, 219 Valentis, Mary, 218
The Things of Greater Importance. See Vampires, Burial, and Death, 234,248
Apologia Vanaspati, 68
Thomas, Jim, 215 Van Buren, E. Douglas, 171
Thomas, John, 215 Vinci, Leonardo, da, 195-197
Thompson, Eric S., 81 Vasari, Giorgio, 195-197
T h o m s o n , Stith, 14 Velez, Diana, 221
Thugs, T h u g g e e , 71-72 Viollet-le-Duc, Eugene Emmanuel, 165,
Tiamat, 134 167,168
T'ien Tchouen (constellation), 140 Virgil (Publius Vergilius Maro), 8,24,
Tiryns, 17,19,23,26,36,38,136,138,142, 60-61,188,194,195,228
226,227 Vishnu, 67, 68
Tisiphone (Fury), 6o-6i, 195, 207 Vitruvius, 120
Titans, 210, 211 Vogel, H . C . , 115
"Tjalon A rang", 73 Volcker, 95
Tlaloc, 80, 82 Von Helmholtz, Hermann, 150
Tlaltecuhtli, 79 Voyage of Argo. See Argomutica
Tlingit, 77
Tolstoy, Leo, 189-190 Wace, 10
Tonatiuh, 55,56,187 Wain. See Ursa Major
Topsell, Edward, 91-92 Walker, Alice, 220
Triple Goddess, 96, 221 Walker, Barbara, 99,221
Tritonis, Lake, 21, 25,96,125,141,213 Wallace, Lew, 107
Triumph of Death, 189 Walters, P., 94
Troilus, 146 Wandor, Michelene, 223
Trojans, 145 Warrington, i n
Trojan Horse, 165 Watanabe, Tomio, 248
Trojan War, 134,195 Weldon, Michael, 208
Troy, 134 Welles, Orson, 208
Tsi-Chi.See Algol Wells, G. A., 238
Tsimshian, 77 Wetherby, 111
T s o Chuan, 75 White, T . H . , 204
Tsonoqua, 77 White Goddess, The, 95,221
Twilight Zone, The, 200, 217 Wilgefortis, St., 13,14
Typhon, 28,90,93,136 Willetts, William, 76
Wilson, Alan, 9
Uffizi, 196,197 Winston, Stan, 215
Ulansey, David, 94, 245 Woman of Power, 217
Uncumber, St., 13 Woman's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets,
Underside of History, The, 221 221
Unexpected Visitor, The, 152, i j j Wo?nen; A Journal of Liberation, 217
Uranometria, 107,117 The Women at the Adonis Festival, 61
Uranus, 211 Women Who Run with the Wolves, 3
 Index 277

Wornongold, M., 220 Yorkshire, i n

W o o d , Frank Bradshaw, 123 Yu.75
W o o d w a r d , Jocelyn M., 47, 50, 52. Yucatan, 94
Wu-ti, 76 Yvain, 10
Wylie, Philip G., 10
Z e n , 77
Xochipilli-Piîtzintecuhtli, 55,56 Z e u s , 5, 6, 8, 24, 25, 28, 43, 45, 69,134) Î36,
Xolotl, 79 137,147,148,157, 2io, 211, 212, 213, 214,
Yama, 248 217, 227, 235,241
Zeus: A Study in Ancient Religion, 44, 50,
Yarbus, Alfred L., 152-156 139,157
Yoalactecotii, 79 Z i m m e r , Ernst, 115
York, i n