Folk Tales of the Cosmos E-Book

Various

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Folk Tales
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 278

Beschreibung

'Janet Dowling is magic and her stories bring the wonders of the night sky onto the page. She has journeyed from Polar ice to Pacific islands in search of tales which will re-enchant the heavens under which we all live and which so many of us forget.' - Jeremy Harte, The Folklore Society Discover the Greek myths that are laid before you in the stars. Explore the folk tales of other cultures that have their own stories of the stars to guide the ancients in planting, navigating, and knowing when the beasts migrate across the plains. Start your own adventure to answer the question 'Whose constellation is it anyway?' in this compelling collection of folk tales of the night sky.

Leseprobe

First published 2023

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Janet Dowling, 2023

Illustrated by Vicky Jocher

The right of Janet Dowling to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 80399 418 5

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.

Cover illustration adapted from an illustration by Mohamed Nemr, courtesy of Shutterstock

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

CONTENTS

A Warning

‘Ah! June Star’ by S.E.K. Mqhayi

Introduction

1    The Greek Myths of the Stars

The Greek Myths and the Constellations that Appear in the Myths

Perseus: Hero of the People

Orion the Hunter and Ophuichus the Healer

Callisto

Hercules: The Twelve Labours

Jason and the Argonauts

2    The Rest of the World: Star Stories

The Promises

Rest of the World Star Stories by Greek Constellation/Star/Other

AFRICA

The Rabbit Prince (South Africa: Shangaan)

The Warrior, the Khunuseti and the Three Zebras (Bushmen: Namaqua)

The Stars and the Star Road (South Africa)

ASIA

The Cowherd and the Weaving Girl (China)

Krittika: The Seven Wives of the Rishis (Hindu)

EUROPE

The Eyes of Thiazi (Norse)

The Silver Woman (Siberia: Sami)

The Veil of Imatutan (Estonia)

The Seven Stars (Armenia)

NORTH AMERICA

The Great Bear and the Six Hunters (Seneca)

Follow the Drinking Gourd: The North Star to Freedom

Seven Wise Men (Lenape/Delaware)

The Children of the Northern Lights (Arctic and Greenland)

How Coyote Scattered the stars (Navajo)

Origin of the Pleiades (Onondaga)

OCEANIA

The Husband and Wives Who Became Stars (Australia)

The Three Brothers (Australia: Yolngu)

The Emu in the Sky (Australia: Papunya, Northern Territory)

Irdibilyi, Wommainya and Karder (Australia: Torres Strait)

The Trials of the Girls (Australia)

SOUTH AMERICA

The Path to Abundance (Argentina: Toba Indians)

The Llama Star (Peru: Incas)

3    The Rest of the World: Moon and Sun Stories

AFRICA

A Home for the Sun and Moon (Nigeria)

ASIA

The Buddha and the Hare (Sri Lanka)

Chang E: Goddess of the Moon (China)

Chu Cuoi: The Man in the Moon (Vietnam)

EUROPE

The Moon Tarrers (Estonia)

Daughter of the Moon, Son of the Sun (Siberia: Sami)

Sun Maiden and Crescent Moon (Siberia: Ket)

The Woman Who Tarred the Moon (Sweden)

A Garment for the Moon (Jewish)

NORTH AMERICA

Mouse-Woman and the Daughter of the Sun (North-West Coast of America and Canada)

OCEANIA

The Blue Fish and the Moon (Australia)

Rona: The Woman in the Moon (New Zealand: Māori)

Maaui Tames the Sun (New Zealand: Māori))

How to Steal the Moon (Caroline Islands)

SOUTH AMERICA

The King and the Moon (Dominica)

The Fifth Sun (Aztec)

Acknowledgements

Notes on Individual Stories and Sources

Bibliography

A WARNING

Quite often books of folk tales are given to children. This is a warning to parents that these stories contain adult themes and may not be suitable for children under the age of 14.

With thanks to my life partner, Jeff Ridge, who supports me in everything I do, holds my hand when things get dark, ensures that I get plenty of oxytocin hugs and knows exactly how much green tea and chocolate frosted cake is needed.

And to my friends and colleagues at the Norman Lockyer Observatory and the audiences who listened to my retellings of the tales of the night sky. I learned so much about how the stories were working from observing how you were reacting to the told tales.

And many thanks to my dear friend Margaret E for 40 years of friendship and support in dark days and the light.

‘AH! JUNE STAR’ BY S.E.K. MQHAYI

(Extract)

Summon all the nations, so that we can allot the stars:

The stars should be allocated,

You, Basotho people, take the Dogstar, the Harvest star before winter,

And share it with the Tswana and Chopi, and other loincloth wearers,

The Zulu will take the belt of Orion,

And share it with the Swazi, the Chopi and the Shangaan,

As well as all the other uncircumcised peoples.

You from Britain, take Venus,

And share it with the Germans and the Boers.

You whites-who-do-not-know-how-to-share-anything

Learn to share it with the Boers and the Germans.

We will hold on to the June star, we the people of Phalo,

That group of seven stars,

Is the star by which we count our years,

We count the years of being a man,

We count the years of manhood,

I can go on and on, but here I will stop.

© Translation: 2008, Antjie Krog, Ncebakazi Saliwa & Koos Oosthuyzen

INTRODUCTION

Humans love stories – whether they are in the land, sea, sky or about people in these settings. Born with curiosity (a gift granted to us from Eve) our brains are programmed to find connections between things – a basis for survival. The easiest way to make and remember a connection is to make a story. Whether it’s the Australian aboriginal who learns the landscape by endowing it with story, or the night sky full of stars to identify the ones that give you direction or tell you the time of year, there is a story. Or the cave dwellers with their paintings of the hunt – stories to be told, with the sharing of tactics that did or did not work. The observations that at certain times of the year a cluster of stars would be in alignment with the silhouette of a mountain, and soon after the rivers would flood. Or that when another cluster of stars rose above the horizon to spend time in the night sky, that foretold the season when the winds would be so great that nothing could leave the harbour. Over time these little associations became bigger and more essential to survival on a day-to-day basis.

The star clusters themselves became a calendar device where rhythms of nature were observed and facilitated the efforts of hunter-gatherers. The sun rose every day and the moon completed a monthly cycle. The Pleiades, a small, easily identifiable cluster of stars, moved above and below the horizon just before the equinoxes, becoming a seasonal marker. Hours to the dawn or sunset could be measured by the position of the moon and sun relative to the landscape. Some stars rose at the time the bison would start to migrate, or the disappearance of a cluster would lead to a period of intense cold, so preparations needed to be made for a long, hard, cold winter.

But even as you look at the night sky, it depends on where in the world you are looking from. The earliest tale-spinners were from Mesopotamia and Babylon, but they only saw the stars according to their position. To them, the night sky had part of the northern sky including the north polar star, and some of the southern hemisphere sky. From our position in England, we would have more of the northern hemisphere and perhaps a flicker of the northern lights, which the Greek had no notion of. Or in the south, the Māori would have only the stars of the southern hemisphere with no knowledge of the northern skies. Each community saw and interpreted the night sky according to their community, and what the story meant for the locality.

By the early twentieth century, the sky was full of overlapping ‘recognised’ constellations. In 1923, the International Astronomical Union officially recognised eighty-eight constellations. A map of the night sky was then drawn so that a star’s coordinates were uniquely identified in a part of space named for the closest constellation. Thus, the night sky is a patchwork of oddly shaped ‘pieces’ anchored around a constellation.

The majority were the forty-eight named constellations from Ptolemy. These included many that came from the earlier civilisations of Mesopotamia and Babylon (and others), incorporated into the Greek systems, and then added to by the Greeks’ own observations of the stars. The characters of the Greek myths were woven around the stars so that the sky becomes a story book. As you recount the stories, you learn the constellations and their position in the sky. As you learn the constellations, you are better able to assess their movement in the sky relative to the landscape (or specific manmade constructions like temples, standing stones) so that they are more use as a seasonal calendar or navigation tool.

I was inspired to write this book when I realised that the night sky was full of the Greek myths – that the constellations linked through story, and sometimes over two different parts of the sky. Then, as I researched them, I realised the eighty-eight were very Eurocentric in origin. I felt it was important to demonstrate that there were star stories from other cultures, but there were so many I could easily have filled ten volumes. However, many of the stories come from indigenous communities for whom the stories have a spiritual meaning. Then, balance of respect and cultural appropriation needs to be considered. Essentially, cultural appropriation is the use of sensitive cultural materials out of cultural context, and inappropriately for the purpose for which they were originally intended. In some cases, there also is the issue of monetary gain made by use of the material that does not return to the community.

There are many layers to a story. One is the ‘top’ story, the narrative that describes the basic story actions and consequences. Then there are further layers that relate to the description of the landscape the story takes place in, the emotional landscape between the main characters, the societal relationship, the mores and rules of behaviour, and not least the spiritual element of the relationship of the teller with the landscape. If you are part of the community, you recognise the references in the gaps between the words; but if you are not part of the community, the references go over your head and become meaningless. Many cultures do not want to share their original deep stories but may allow an outline action-only retelling – the outer edges of the top story. But changing or adding in one element of the top story through ignorance of the culture may cause offence. For example, in the Christian story of Easter, if a teller missed out the crucifixion and resurrection because ‘it did not fit with their experience or beliefs’, this would mean missing out a key component of the faith (i.e., that Christ died to save them from their sins and rose again).

I wanted to show that the Eurocentric naming of constellations and stars was not the only way to look at the night sky, and that because one cultural group saw a warrior and his sword, this did not automatically mean it was obvious to other cultures. Some tradition-bearers I consulted said, ‘Don’t do it.’ Some other tradition-bearers said, ‘A lot of it is out there already – do it but be respectful in what you do.’

At the same time Equity, the performing arts and entertainment union (www.equity.org.uk), was drafting its Guidelines on Storytelling and Cultural Appropriation. I consulted with several members of the group doing the work. The key principles of the guidance are available online, and this is my short version:

•    Respect the culture.

•    Research to understand the culture including symbols, language, images, or landscapes.

•    Learn from the culture.

As part of this process, it is important to understand the transition stories have been through from a native teller to the resources that you are working with. Ursula McConnel, in Myths of the Munkan (1957, based on field work in 1927 and 1934), says:

The stories are consistent with their environment and the social order which binds this environment to the storytellers. This blending of natural and social factors, so strange to us, cannot be understood in terms of external values … To appreciate the inner logic of the stories one must be familiar with their background … It must be realised that these stories are for oral transmission and the more active parts for dramatization. It is not easy to do justice to their style in the verbose form of written English, nor to convey the telling pauses, the pregnant silences. The impressive reiteration and the innuendos of the speaker’s voice, who, as he relates the story experiences and visualises the acts and scenes embodied in his short dramatic sentences … I have adhered as closely as possible to their way of telling.

Some storytellers will tell you the work that goes into telling a story starts with identifying the bones of an action line. It is then rehydrated with description of both characters and landscape, the emotional journey of the characters, the physical gestures that add to the story, the tone of the voice and the intentions of the storyteller. All affect choice of words and the delivery of the story.

However, in a written collecting situation you have the teller, the person who translates the story to the collector, the transcription into written words initially in note form, then in expanded form, and finally edited for publication. From first to last the emotion, intentionality and physicality are unlikely to be conveyed in the manner the storyteller intended. Furthermore, the listener may relate a part of the story to their personal experience and then carry that image forward when they retell the story themselves. An example of this is Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. Originally known as ‘Bear Lodge’ by native peoples, in the nineteenth century it was first described in English as ‘Bear Lodge Tower’. It may have been transformed phonetically into ‘Bad God’s Tower’ and thus into ‘Devil’s Tower’, which has a completely different meaning, has Christian connotations, and is offensive to the local community. At the time of writing (2023) there are attempts to get the name changed to reflect the original, which has more meaning to the local people.

There is also the influence of European colonisation and missionary work spreading their faith through stories. Once a story has been told and then retold, the links with the original storyteller and the context of their telling get lost. In retelling the story, the teller draws on aspects of language, concepts and landscape that they are familiar with. The listener/collector has no idea if this is a story from within this culture, if it has been influenced in the near or distant past, or just simply made up by a skilled storyteller in front of the listener using existing motifs and landscapes. Several nineteenth-century collectors, across the world, cited stories of the seven stars (aka Pleiades) where maidens run from a great hunter in different culture as evidence of a worldwide ancient origin myth – whereas it only takes one person retelling the Greek myth of Orion and the Pleiades for the story to be embedded in the culture.

For example, A.W. Reed (1999, p.298) retells the Australian Aboriginal story where first man and first woman are told by the creator to use everything they need in the garden, but not to touch anything of the tree that has the bee swarm and honey. The woman collects some wood and realises that she has picked up some fallen branches of the forbidden tree. Nothing happens to her. She is then emboldened to try the honey, at which point a giant bat, placed by the creator to guard the tree, emerges. Death has now entered the world ‘by the evil the woman has done’. This has some elements of the Adam and Eve story, as well as the tale of the golden apples placed by the Greek goddess Hera in a garden and protected by the dragon. Is this an origin story of the forbidden fruit in paradise – or a story influenced by a more recent local retelling of either the Biblical or Greek version? As a storyteller, I might let my personal perspective influence the stories I tell depending on my intention of the set. As a collector and reteller of traditional stories, I would be as neutral as possible – avoiding any influence of my own culture, values and prejudices.

In making this selection and retelling them, I have given myself the following ground rule.

I would try to determine the potential source of the story and how far it is from the original spoken source. If the story source was close to the root story, then my retelling would reflect the same language without any emotion, morals or values, landscapes or spiritual reference that was not in the original story. If it was a source that had clearly undertaken many retellings, and I could not find a root source, then I felt free to introduce emotion, personal values and intentionality.

Stories from the Greek myths were based on local variations and old myths from the Egyptians and Mesopotamians. Over the past 2,000 years they have been retold and reinterpreted, and I felt that gave me licence to retell the stories in my own way. The versions of the Greek myths of the night sky are the ones from my research of the many variants of the myths that I prepared for my storytelling performances entitled ‘Lust and Revenge: Tales of Passion in the Night Sky’. There are, of course, other Greek myths that are not represented in the night sky. Some stories from European and Chinese roots also had many variants, with none claiming to be the original. I chose to draw on the variants and craft my own.

Finally – this is a collection of folktales and myths of the night sky. It is not a comprehensive anthology of all the many and various tales – that would take several volumes. In the end, I could only skim the top layer of stories from each continent and give a taste of the wide variety of tales told and the richness of imagery beyond the Greek Eurocentric vision. However, I have included ‘Notes on the Stories’, which gives details of the sources I have used, and other books that I consulted to understand the context, which I hope readers will use as a springboard to do their own research.

If there are any errors or places where my writing is insensitive, I apologise now, and request that you contact me at [email protected] to advise me.

1

THE GREEK MYTHS OF THE STARS

The myths of the Greek gods have been handed down and became the role models by which subsequent generations and civilisations learned how to behave and how to be a leader.

Zeus was King of the Greek Gods, and with his two brothers, Hades and Poseidon, and sisters Hera, Demeter and Hestia, they were known as the Olympians. They had overthrown their father Cronus and his brothers and sisters, known collectively as the Titans. Thereafter, it was Zeus and the Olympians who held the praise and the loyalty of the people on earth. They forged their allegiances within the family – marrying each other, brother to sister – and having children born immortal and thus gods themselves.

However, some of the male gods, during the span of their immortal lives, sought their pleasures with more earthly women. Their Olympian wives either turned a blind eye or took out their vengeance on the earthly mothers and children. Never their husbands. A god does not contradict a god.

A child born of god and human had a chance of being born immortal, or not. There was no way of predicting which was likely. At birth, immortality was evident. The chosen ones would be feted, and when old enough to leave their mothers, they were taken to Olympus, home of the gods. But those who were mortal were left to make their own way in the world. Some of them became heroes, and some were souls blighted by their sense of loss, knowing that their birthright could have been so very different.

The Greeks populated their night skies with characters from their myths and legends. Chief among them are the stories of the mortal sons of gods, who raised themselves up from being abandoned sons to achieve reputations that made them immortal in memory.

THE GREEK MYTHS AND THE CONSTELLATIONS THAT APPEAR IN THE MYTHS

Myth

Constellations within the myth

Perseus: hero of the people

Medusa, Perseus, Ladon (the Dragon), Pegasus (the flying horse), Cassiopeia (the vain queen), Cepheus (her husband), Andromeda (their daughter and wife to be of Perseus), Cetus (the great sea monster)

Orion the Hunter and Ophiuchus the Healer

Corvus (the crow), Ophiuchus, Centaurus, Orion, Pleiades, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Scorpion, Taurus

Callisto

Great Bear, Little Bear

Hercules: the twelve labours

Hercules, Milky Way, Centaurus, Leo (the first labour), Hydra (water snake, second labour), Cancer (crab, second labour), Sagitta (the arrow), Corvus (the crow, aka Stymphalian birds, fifth labour), Taurus (the seventh labour), Draco (eleventh labour)

Jason and the Argonauts

Centaurus (the centaur), Aries (the ram), Argo (the ship; including Puppis the stern, Carina the keel, and Vela the sail), Castor and Pollux aka Gemini (the twins), Eridanus (the river)

PERSEUS: HERO OF THE PEOPLE

Medusa, Perseus, Ladon (the dragon), Pegasus (the flying horse), Cassiopeia (the vain queen), Cepheus (her husband), Andromeda (their daughter and wife-to-be of Perseus), Cetus (the great sea monster).

Medusa’s Story

Along the coast of Greece there were temples dedicated to the Goddess Athena served by virgin handmaidens. There was one young woman, Medusa, who wanted to serve Athena. She was taught the rituals, the offerings, and her duties when she was to stand to pray to Athena. Down by the shore there was a certain olive that grew there. With the sea salt, it looked and tasted so beautiful. The Goddess Athena particularly enjoyed them as an offering.

Sometimes, when the wind is up, waves are frothy and white. People called them white horses. As Medusa gathered the olives, she could see a real white horse emerging out of the water onto the shore, stand and then shake itself. She walked up to it and put her hand out to stroke its mane. The horse turned to her and started to nuzzle her neck. She found herself leaning into the warmth of the body and the muscles of the body, holding it tight. There were thoughts and stirrings in her that felt unfamiliar. On an impulse, she pulled herself up onto the horse, which raced up the beach. She rode until the sky darkened, and it was time for her to start the evening rituals at the temple. She slipped off the horse and began to walk back, taking the olives. As she came up to the steps of the temple, the horse followed behind her.

‘No, sorry, you can’t come in here,’ she laughed. She put her arms around its neck and held it tight, enjoying the moment with her eyes closed, breathing in the scent of the horse.

Then the smell changed. She opened her eyes and was no longer holding a horse. It was a man. She could see his aquamarine eyes and knew in that moment this was Poseidon in his human form, the God of the Sea, brother of Zeus. He stepped towards her and said, ‘You have ridden me. Now it’s my turn.’

She stepped back into the temple for sanctuary. But Poseidon followed her and there, on the altar of Athena, he took his pleasure from her. She tried to fight him off but there was nothing she could do. In the moment of his joy, he stood up, laughed, then walked away. Medusa cried out to the Goddess Athena, ‘Please help me.’

Up in the heavens, Athena looked down. A heavy musk hung in the air, and she knew what had happened. ‘My altar has been defiled. This is no longer a place of sanctuary. You have destroyed this.’

Medusa tried to explain: ‘I did not know it was Poseidon, I thought it was a horse.’

‘He is my uncle,’ responded Athena. ‘It must be your fault!’ And with that, she cursed Medusa.

Her nails went yellow, turning into claws. Her limbs began to grow scales. She put her hands to her face. Scales there too. Her beautiful hair was now a seething mess of hissing snakes.

‘No man or woman will ever look at you without out being turned to stone. You will be hated and hunted for all time. Get out of my sight!’

Medusa staggered out of the temple. There were people coming to lay offerings. They saw her, and with no time to even to gasp, they had turned into stone. She did not know where to go. She fed herself in the night from the plants that she could scavenge in the woods. Always running. Behind her was a trail of stone statues. Young men, determined to prove their bravery, declared, ‘I will go and slay this Medusa!’ Many never found her, many never returned.

Eventually, Medusa came to a shore. On the horizon she could see an island. She took a small boat and let it float across. As she came to that island and got out, two creatures came towards her with scaly skins, claws, and snakes for hair. ‘We are the Gorgons,’ they said. ‘We are immortal daughters of the gods. We have heard of you, Medusa. Come with us, be our sister, even though you are human and mortal. Share with us our pain.’

Medusa stayed, perpetually disturbed by the growing number of stone statues of young warriors on the shore determined to seek her death.

In the night sky, you can see the head of Medusa as part of the constellation of Perseus.

Perseus’ Story

There were a king and queen who had a daughter, Danae. However, kings of this time wanted sons to follow them to create their own dynasty. It was the fashion to ask for advice from the Oracle of Delphi – priests who would ‘consult’ with the gods and give a reply. The king went to the Oracle and asked, ‘Please tell me, when will my son be born?’

The Oracle replied, ‘You will have no sons; you will not have any other daughters. Your grandson will slay you.’ The king was horrified; no sons, no other daughters. The only way he could have a grandson was if this small child, Danae, would grow up and have a son. He did not know what to do. He certainly did not want to kill his daughter. His solution was to place her in an underground chamber, forged out of bronze and lit by candles, hidden out of sight. He told his wife he had sent the child away for safety. Handmaidens were appointed, sworn to secrecy, who were tasked with the care and upbringing of the child. His only thought was: ‘She must never, ever meet a man.’ The years passed, and Danae grew up. The king did not know what else to do to prevent a grandson being born. He visited her and was the only man she ever saw. Danae had only vague memories of what it was like in the world before she came into this underground bronze chamber.

Zeus, King of the Gods, always liked a dalliance with challenge. From his throne in the heavens, he could see over the whole world. When he saw Danae in a bronze chamber underground, hidden from sight, he knew he had to meet this one. He would show that he could not be kept out of anywhere. In keeping with the bronze chamber and the filtering lights, he turned himself into a golden shower and seeped through the earth, down into the chamber, and flowed all over the girl. As it touched her skin, Danae laughed and cried. The handmaidens cowered in fear. They did not know what was happening. Danae embraced it, and just for a moment she felt like there was someone hugging her back. Then it was gone.

‘Did you see that?’ she asked the handmaidens.

‘What was that?’ The handmaidens shook. ‘We saw nothing.’

In time, her belly bulged. When the king saw his daughter, he was furious. He quizzed the handmaidens until one confessed. ‘It was a golden shower; we think it was Zeus.’

Danae’s father shook with rage. He feared for his own life but decided he would not personally kill his own daughter and grandson. Instead, he would leave it to the will of the gods. He ordered Danae to be locked up in a box, taken out to the sea, and then the box thrown overboard. If she drowned, it was the will of the gods – not his.

Zeus had a choice. Whilst he felt he could not intervene himself, he would help things along. The box floated until it reached the nets of a fisherman called Dictys, who pulled it up out of the sea into his boat. When he opened it, he was very surprised to see a woman suckling a newborn child in it. He took them to shore, fed and cared for them. Danae told him that she was the daughter of a king, and this was her son Perseus, a child of a god. Dictys wasn’t interested in any of that. He just wanted to know that she and the child were safe. His brother was King Polydectes, but Dictys was content to be a fisherman. He was kind, and he was gentle. Danae was happy to stay with him and to learn how to wash, cook and sew.

In his palace, Polydectes heard that his brother had ‘acquired’ a woman and a child. He came down to see what was going on. ‘Well brother, what have you here?’

As soon as Polydectes learned that Danae was a princess in her own right, he wanted her as his wife and queen. He said, ‘Come to my palace. Marry me. It is a fitting match and much better for you than staying with my useless fisherman brother.’

Danae was frightened and said, ‘No. I cannot marry you until my son is a man. I must look after him.’

Polydectes laughed. ‘Well, when your son is grown, then I will come calling.’

Over the years, Perseus grew up. He learned all the ways of the sea, as well as how to fight and how to be strong. His mother told him all the myths and legends of the kings of Greece, not just the gods. With these stories he grew and learned how to work with men and women, and how to face trials and tribulations.

Eventually, Polydectes came and said, ‘Your son is old enough. Marry me.’

Perseus responded, ‘My mother does not need to marry you. And for as long as I’m here with her, she will not.’

‘We shall see,’ said Polydectes. He returned to his palace, and next day there came an announcement that he had decided to marry a princess from overseas. She would arrive soon, and everyone was to give her a gift of a stallion. Polydectes invited his brother Dictys and Danae to the wedding.

Perseus was expected to attend. He sent a message, and said, ‘I do not have the money to buy a stallion. But give me a task and I will do it. I will bring you anything.’

Polydectes laughed because all of this was a ruse. There was no princess from overseas. He was just looking for a way to get rid of Perseus. He was very pleased to declare, ‘Bring me the head of the Medusa!’ Perseus was stunned but he agreed. ‘Good,’ said Polydectes, ‘for when you do not return, we will know either you have failed or you are a coward, too frightened to return.’

Perseus went to the temple of Athena, and cried, ‘Athena, please help me in this. How can I take the head of Medusa without being turned to stone?’

Athena appeared with Hermes, messenger to the gods, by her side. ‘Perseus,’ she said, ‘I’ve heard your cry. Medusa has been such a thorn in my side. It is good to hear that you wish to end her time on this earth. Alas, too many young men have fallen to her sight and are in stone. So, I will help you. What you must do is avoid looking at her head, the snakes, and her eyes. Use this polished shield, which is like a mirror. This sword is made of the strongest substance that we have. It will cut through her neck with one blow. But you must be careful,’ she said. ‘You need to get swiftly in and out, making no mistake. Medusa lives with the Gorgons. And they fly fast, too.’

Hermes interrupted. ‘For this, I’m going to lend you my second-best pair of flying sandals. Here they are.’ The little wings on the sandals fluttered. ‘And this bag,’ he said, ‘will be very helpful to put the head in!’