The right word spoken at the right time is as beautiful as gold apples in a silver ·bowl [L setting].
Proverbs 25:11, Expanded Bible
Dearest Rachel –
There’s a story in ancient Greek mythology of a girl born to the King of Arcadia who was given the name Atalanta. I’m not sure why his majesty King Iasus took the trouble to give her a name, since he promptly had her abandoned atop a mountain to die; the fellow wanted a son, confound it, and he wasn’t about to let this, this… female inherit his kingdom, apparently.
And the crazy thing is, he basically appears to get away with it, as Atalanta doesn’t seem to wreck revenge on him, but actually returned to the kingdom after making a name for herself. You’d think that, if ever a girl could be expected to have daddy issues, it’d be her; but for whatever reason, it rolls right off her back. Good for her, I suppose.
But – having been raised by a she-bear who raised her after losing her own cubs, instilling in her adopted daughter the strength and speed of her kind – the name that Atalanta made for herself was that of a fearsome, if comely, warrior. She was able to track down and draw first blood from the Calydonian boar as the sole female member of the hunting party tasked with destroying the notorious and deadly pest. At the same time, she was also known for having shot two centaurs dead for attempting to force themselves upon her. This was not someone made entirely of sugar and spice and everything nice; at least, not if you crossed her.
At some point in her story, she returned to Arcadia, where her father now welcomed her with open arms. After all, she was a hero; not even all male princes achieved that literally mythical status. And yet, for whatever reason, he had to tinker forever with chance, and find her a husband – maybe he was still hoping for his little girl to bear him a grandson.
She wasn’t having any of it, although she pretended to go along with her father. She did establish one condition for the suitors he found for her; they would have to beat her in a footrace. If they won, her hand was theirs, but if not… well, it was the axe for them. It astonishes me that her father accepted her terms; maybe it didn’t occur to him why and how she had become a hero in the first place. Needless to say, many men tried, and many men died. They couldn’t outrun her, even if – though – their lives depended on it.
At this point, a young man by the name of Hippomenes fell madly in love with Atalanta, but was well aware of both her terms for marriage and the fact that he would no more be able to outrun her than the next fellow (which is to say, not at all). As this is a Greek myth, he appeals to the gods and gets them involved, and Aphrodite supplies him with three golden apples to draw the girl’s eye and distract her during the race. You can probably guess how it goes, considering that divine intervention is involved; as Atalanta began to pass him, he would throw an apple in front of her, she would run after it and gather it up, at which point, she would have to catch up with him, only for him to drop another one for her to pursue and collect.
It’s this part of the story that seems so out of character for what I can understand about her as a dedicated athlete and a confirmed… bachelorette? Is that a concept? The thing is, a truly competitive runner – and an avowed… well, ‘man-hater’ is putting it too strongly, but it’s as close a description as I can think of, seeing that her ‘body count’ is quite literal – would not let herself get distracted in the middle of a race, especially one with such high stakes. Running may not have been the scientifically analyzed sport that it is today, but even the ancients knew about setting aside distractions; even the likes of the apostle Paul talked about not getting distracted during training, let alone in the middle of a competition. How much more so in the middle of a competition that’s meant to determine your fate (which, while it may not strictly be a matter of life or death for Atalanta, the results would be equally permanent, after all)?
Unless she was literally about to trip on them, nothing about these apples should have diverted her attention from the goal that was the finish line and victory (not to mention continued freedom, from her perspective). I’ve read that they were supposedly irresistible – which might make sense, given they came from Aphrodite herself – but it they truly were, how is it that Hippomedes was willing to let go of them, then? Wouldn’t he have held onto them himself?
On the other hand, there are different character interpretations of Atalanta, as myths and legends are prone to have. It may be that she was tired of constantly fighting off suitors like this; maybe not so much tiring of the race as such, as the end result. Having so much blood on your hands might do things to one’s conscience, for all I know. There’s also the possibility that she had some form of genuine affection for Hippomedes – or at least respected him for his cleverness (however divinely augmented) – and the apples were a convenient excuse for her to throw the race and give herself to him with honor.
Now, I may be applying modern mores to ancient Greek culture, and thereby completely missing the point of the story – assuming there was one – I freely admit to the possibility. But I rather think that, just as in so many of those ancient myths, the characters are archetypal of people throughout both fiction and history (consider Oedipus and Freud, just as an example).
I just wish I knew where to get some of those golden apples…
Anyway, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 