This is the ONE book that you must have read if you any reader of classic literature,
Whatever you read you will find refernces and quotations to Ovids Metamorphoses.
And anyway, The book in itself is soo imaginatif and wonderfull. Where is the line between legend and fiction, if there is any.

To read this in English is to not have read it. The few Latin verses I could read and understand were more pleasurable than all the wonderful myths and twisted fates. The verses take the form of what it describes, they flow or pause or rear up along with its subject. The translation feels beautiful at those rare times when I can call to mind some of the great works of art inspired by those artists who loved and lived these verses. No statues were made by artists inspired by translations.

Ovid was ignored by classical scholars for a long time as being frivolous and just not serious enough. He has now been rehabilitated and Metamorphoses is recognised as being one of the most complex, sophisticated and problematic poems of the age of Augustus.

It's also one of the wittiest and most accessible, and this translation deserves prizes for being both faithful to the original Latin and yet reading beautifully in modern English blank verse.

Too often regarded as a compendium of Greek and Roman myths, Metamorphoses should be read as a continuous poem telling the story of the world from the creation to the apotheosis of Julius Caesar - but in Ovid's own inimitable and often funny and scurrilous fashion. Along the way, he takes in almost every story ever told in the ancient world: Narcissus and Echo, Orpheus and Eurydice, Pygmalion, Medea, Venus and Adonis, the Trojan war, the foundation of Rome, Romulus and Remus.

His style is witty, urbane and sophisticated, and he plays games with every genre of literature: love poetry, epic, philosophy, Greek science.

The ostensible theme of the poem that unifies the 12 books is change, but modern scholars recognise that this too is part of the game Ovid is playing with his readers, and the debate continues over what Ovid is 'about'.

More interesting, perhaps, is the way in which he plays with our preconceptions of gender, power, status and authority - but all with the lightest of touches that never reduce the brilliant story-telling to mere polemic.

Writing after Vergil, on one level Metamorphoses is a response to and a dialogue with the Aeneid, and has sometime been read as an antidote to the supposedly pro-Augustan sympathies of Vergil. Certainly Ovid was banished from Rome by the Emperor Augustus just after the poem was published though the reason cannot be known due to the loss of all sources relating to the the incident. However, many scholars now recognise the other subversive voices within the Aeneid itself, questioning the imperial mission of Rome and Augustus, so maybe Ovid and Vergil are not so far apart at all...

In any case, the Metamorphoses remains one of the most brilliant examples of the pure power of superb story-telling, and has inspired artists from Shakespeare to Bernini to Ted Hughes.

I never quite finished this and will need to start again now. The problem was reading it before bed at night - there are so many stories and so many characters that keeping track of them all in that twillight between awake and asleep proved too much for me. But this is the Classical World's Bible, although much more interesting in that the stories are clearly meant to be taken as metaphor and there isn't endless boring bits where all that happens is praise for the jealous god.

The Greeks and Romans had a much better sense of irony than the Jews or Christians, I think. If you read this you might get that odd sense of having heard many of the stories before - and that might be one of the main reasons for reading this book at all - it has been the source of so much else in our literary tradition, that alone is reason enough to read it.

So the hardback of this new translation is beautiful. I should buy this yes?
It will look great on the shelf.
It’s also long and will I ever actually read it? Maybe?
But it will look great on the shelf.
And I should probably read it which will be easier if I have it looking gorgeous on my shelf, right?

Is six stars possible? Awesome .... just awesome.

4.25/5stars

read for my masters, not bad, def will be helpful in my shakespeare studies

"Throughout all ages,
If poets have vision to prophesy truth, I shall live in my
Fame."

Thus the closing lines of Ovid's "Metamorphoses". He was certainly right in his statement, but it feels like an appropriate irony that his work has been transformed, metamorphosed, over the millennia since he wrote his compilation of Roman and Greek literature. I have known most of the collected stories since my early days at university, but only now finished reading the "Metamorphoses" as a whole, from cover to cover, and my impression is that Ovid's fame is mostly due to the brilliant interpretation of his text by European visual artists over the centuries.

Through the metamorphosis from text to visual art, Ovid has stayed famous. Bernini's "Apollo and Daphne" symbolises it more accurately than any other myth retold in the collection: a god chasing a young nymph, who slowly transforms into a laurel tree to avoid sexual assault, only to find herself the eternal symbol of Apollo's high status, and the honorable prize for literary or artistic fame. Ovid is resting on those laurels, wearing his Apollonian laurel wreath - as is Bernini, who can proudly compete with Pygmalion in the skill with which he made the marble leaves come alive, transforming hard stone into delicate art.



I knew I would be going on a tour through art history when I embarked on the Ovid journey, and I enjoyed every minute of it, often reading with a pile of art books next to me. As a pleasant extra surprise, I found myself revisiting several favourite Greek plays from a different narrative perspective, focusing on the transforming powers of dramatic storytelling rather than on unity of time, place and action. Hercules' story unfolded from a new angle, as did many of the Trojan and Minoan adventures.

After finishing Virgil's The Aeneid a couple of months ago, the short summary of Aeneas' adventures was welcome as well. Generally speaking, the "Metamorphoses" can be viewed as a Who's Who in the Ancient Roman and Greek cosmos, with a clear bias in favour of the Roman empire and its virtues. There are fewer long fight scenes than in the Iliad or the Aeneid, which makes it a more pleasant, less repetitive narrative, once the Centaurs and Lapiths are done with their violent duties.

After decades of immersing myself in the world of ancient mythology, I found the "Metamorphoses" to be an easy and lighthearted reading experience. When I read excerpts from it during my early university years, I struggled to recognise and place all those famous characters. It is a matter of being able to see the context, and background knowledge is a clear advantage.

I just wish my Latin was strong enough- it must be a special pleasure to read it in original!

Claude opus!

“Ma con la parte migliore di me io volerò in eterno più in alto delle stelle, e il nome mio rimarrà, indelebile. E ovunque si estende, sulle terre domate, la potenza romana, le labbra del popolo mi leggeranno, e per tutti i secoli, grazie alla fama, se qualcosa di vero c'è nelle predizioni dei poeti, vivrò.”

Classico tra i classici greci, Le metamorfosi è una raccolta di alcuni dei miti più famosi e conosciuti, ma non solo. Partendo dalla nascita del cosmo, Ovidio ci conduce alla scoperta di dei e dee, eroi, semplici esseri umani. Storie di amore e odio, di vendetta e dolore, di riscoperta e rinascita, di vita e morte.

Le metamorfosi mi ha tenuto compagnia per settimane, l'ho centellinato perchè non volevo finirlo, ho preferito assaporarlo a poco a poco. La ricchezza della prosa, i tanti racconti uniti da un sottile filo rosso, creano un mosaico di storie che esplorano, come spesso accade quando si leggono i miti, la nostra stessa umanità.
In scena, al centro di ogni racconto, c'è proprio la metamorfosi, l'evoluzione, il cambiamento. La metamorfosi del mondo, ma sopratutto di chi lo abita che viene catturato nel continuo evolversi, nel continuo cambiare per diventare qualcosa di diverso. Un ciclo senza fine che ben rappresenta la nostra vita e l'essenza della nostra umanità.

Attraverso le parole di Ovidio assistiamo alle terribili vendette degli dei, ai loro amori, a volte crudeli a volte insensati. Siamo lì con Orfeo quando cerca di riprendersi la sua Euridice, siamo lì quando Dafne fugge disperatamente da Apollo e preferisce mutarsi in alloro piuttosto che cedere al dio di tutte le cose belle. E ancora il rapimento di Persefone, la triste sorte di Medusa, la vendetta di Medea, le maledizioni delle Furie, Arianna e Teseo, Narciso e Atalanta.

La scrittura diventa vertigine e ci trascina in un mondo quasi irreale che però somiglia pericolosamente a tutto quello che conosciamo e ci è familiare. I miti hanno sempre parlato di noi e continuano a farlo mutando esattamente come facciamo noi.

Having gotten more familiar with Greek myths I returned to this translation by David Raeburn, published by Penguin in 2004.

This is an incredible feat of work that catalogue’s Ovid’s interpretation of Greek Myths. It’s also a daunting read that can seem disjoined if they were not all tied by one theme, transformation. Back in 2018 I guessed there were 100 myths but coming back to this again – 200 plus seems more likely.

I enjoyed reading this but many times it was hard to know how to take the violence, which felt like double violence when compounded by injustices.

This edition comes with a very informative essay by Dennis Feeney, and also reading other articles, I understand Ovid wrote Metamorphoses to showcase his storytelling skills, and this is not to be read too seriously, but I’m left with the question: how?

I’m guessing this answer will come to me as I keep reading. I found many wonderful poetical descriptions of scenes and moments in this edition. And there were many times I was absorbed and wanted to know how the story would unfold, though I knew that myth.

So, it’s difficult to know how to take this, more so, when the last part, book 15, where Julius Caesar is transformed to a god, and where Augustus will also follow, seems mocking. It’s like Ovid is having a joke and sharing it. I did not notice this when I read it back in 2018.

Now I’m left intrigued by what I have just read. If I had no other books to read, I would go back and read this from the start. Instead, the best I can do is put it on my growing pile of books to read again.

Book the First: “Of bodies chang’d to various forms, I sing” The world is a constant changes… Everything moves and one thing always changes into the other.
The earth was created by the god unknown as a sphere hanging in space… And life there was an idyll: no crimes, no enmity no wars… “From veins of vallies, milk and nectar broke; And honey sweating through the pores of oak.”
But then the human history started and the deterioration began… “Truth, modesty, and shame, the world forsook: Fraud, avarice, and force, their places took.”
Sins multiply and on observing the cases of cannibalism, Jove decides to destroy the sinful seed with the global deluge and to plant new generation of human beings sowing stones and turning them into males and females… “What the man threw, assum’d a manly face; And what the wife, renew’d the female race.” And then the multiple, fantastic and fabulous metamorphoses of deities commenced…
Changes, alterations, transformations…

Book the Second: Now it’s time for incompetent Phaeton to take his disastrous trip through the sky… “Th’ astonisht youth, where-e’er his eyes cou’d turn, Beheld the universe around him burn…” And the corresponding place in the Bible: “Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven…” Genesis 19:24. Both events are probably the references to the Minoan eruption of Thera, which was a major catastrophic volcanic eruption in recorded history.
Arrogant deities keep intriguing, fornicating and stealing shamelessly… They are ready to use any means… “Livid and meagre were her looks, her eye In foul distorted glances turn’d awry; A hoard of gall her inward parts possess’d, And spread a greenness o’er her canker’d breast; Her teeth were brown with rust, and from her tongue, In dangling drops, the stringy poison hung.” This description of Envy is flowery and magnificent.
Deception and revenge are the way of Gods…

Book the Third: No one, except the major deities, is safe from a pernicious metamorphosis and fatal perishment. Transformations are miraculous and unpredictable: Actaeon into a stag; Tiresias into a woman; Narcissus into a flower; Echo into an incorporeal voice and mariners into dolphins…
The archetype of dragon seems to have been known since the most ancient times… And the sowing of the dragon’s teeth have afterwards become the attribute of many fairytales: “He sows the teeth at Pallas’s command, And flings the future people from his hand.”
The story of Tiresias as an arbiter of male and female sexual pleasures is the most picturesque: “‘The sense of pleasure in the male is far More dull and dead, than what you females share.’ Juno the truth of what was said deny’d; Tiresias therefore must the cause decide, For he the pleasure of each sex had try’d.”
Much earlier Tiresias appears in Homer’s Odyssey as a prophetic ghost in the land of the dead.
In the last century Tiresias was mentioned in the progressive rock song The Cinema Show by Genesis: “Once a man, like the sea I raged, Once a woman, like the earth I gave.”
The tale of Narcissus is an allegory of egocentrism and the story of Pentheus is a fable of the foolish obduracy.

Book the Fourth: An intrigue of The Story of Pyramus and Thisbe, especially in the end, reminds of that in Romeo and Juliet: “Then in his breast his shining sword he drown’d, And fell supine, extended on the ground. As out again the blade lie dying drew, Out spun the blood, and streaming upwards flew.” Now it is clear where the inspiration came from.
“As when the stock and grafted twig combin’d Shoot up the same, and wear a common rind: Both bodies in a single body mix, A single body with a double sex.” The image of Hermaphroditus was integrated both in poetry and in modern pop culture. “Where between sleep and life some brief space is, With love like gold bound round about the head, Sex to sweet sex with lips and limbs is wed, Turning the fruitful feud of hers and his To the waste wedlock of a sterile kiss…” Algernon Charles Swinburne – Hermaphroditus
“From a dense forest of tall dark pinewood, Mount Ida rises like an island. Within a hidden cave, nymphs had kept a child; Hermaphroditus, son of gods, so afraid of their love.” Genesis – The Fountain of Salmacis
The gods have a rich imagination and a wry sense of humour so the miraculous changes they work on the others are unpredictable.

Book the Fifth: The description of the massacre at the feast is a pure satire… Who can be a match for Perseus possessing such a mighty weapon of mass destruction as Medusa’s head?
“Weak was th’ usurper, as his cause was wrong; Where Gorgon’s head appears, what arms are strong? When Perseus to his host the monster held, They soon were statues, and their king expell’d.”
Lewd Pyreneus decided to keep all the Muses in his private harem but they turned into birds and flew away while the unlucky libertine lacking creative imagination just fell from a tower: “Then, in a flying posture wildly plac’d, And daring from that height himself to cast, The wretch fell headlong, and the ground bestrew’d With broken bones, and stains of guilty blood.”
And the tale of Ceres and Proserpine is one of the archetypal myths explaining the existence of seasons: “Jove some amends for Ceres lost to make, Yet willing Pluto shou’d the joy partake, Gives ’em of Proserpine an equal share, Who, claim’d by both, with both divides the year. The Goddess now in either empire sways, Six moons in Hell, and six with Ceres stays.”

Book the Sixth: In the tales of Arachne and Niobe Ovid just ridicules the vainglory and smugness of gods and their unmotivated cruelty too: “Next she design’d Asteria’s fabled rape, When Jove assum’d a soaring eagle’s shape: And shew’d how Leda lay supinely press’d, Whilst the soft snowy swan sate hov’ring o’er her breast, How in a satyr’s form the God beguil’d, When fair Antiope with twins he fill’d. Then, like Amphytrion, but a real Jove, In fair Alcmena’s arms he cool’d his love.” Arachne’s tapestry is a set of sheer evidences against gods’ lechery and she has obviously won but Goddess in fury destroyed the masterpiece and turned Arachne into a spider: “This the bright Goddess passionately mov’d, With envy saw, yet inwardly approv’d. The scene of heav’nly guilt with haste she tore, Nor longer the affront with patience bore; A boxen shuttle in her hand she took, And more than once Arachne’s forehead struck.”
And so it is with a coldblooded murder of Niobe’s children.
The tale of Tereus, Procne and Philomela is something like a horror mystery told in the goriest hues: “But soon her tongue the girding pinchers strain, With anguish, soon she feels the piercing pain: Oh father! father! would fain have spoke, But the sharp torture her intention broke; In vain she tries, for now the blade has cut Her tongue sheer off, close to the trembling root.”
This book is a very sanguinary one.

Book the Seventh: Medea knows her witchcraft: “In a large cauldron now the med’cine boils, Compounded of her late-collected spoils, Blending into the mesh the various pow’rs Of wonder-working juices, roots, and flow’rs; With gems i’ th’ eastern ocean’s cell refin’d, And such as ebbing tides had left behind; To them the midnight’s pearly dew she flings, A scretch-owl’s carcase, and ill boding wings; Nor could the wizard wolf’s warm entrails scape (That wolf who counterfeits a human shape).”
“Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing, For a charm of pow’rful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.” William Shakespeare – Macbeth
The methods of witches and their cooking recipes hardly changed since Ovid’s time.
This book seems to be less impressive than the previous ones.

Book the Eighth: The greater part of the book is the tales of traitorous Scylla and hunting for the ferocious boar.
The most famous legends of Minotaur: “These private walls the Minotaur include, Who twice was glutted with Athenian blood: But the third tribute more successful prov’d, Slew the foul monster, and the plague remov’d. When Theseus, aided by the virgin’s art, Had trac’d the guiding thread thro’ ev’ry part, He took the gentle maid, that set him free, And, bound for Dias, cut the briny sea. There, quickly cloy’d, ungrateful, and unkind, Left his fair consort in the isle behind…” and Icarus: “When now the boy, whose childish thoughts aspire To loftier aims, and make him ramble high’r, Grown wild, and wanton, more embolden’d flies Far from his guide, and soars among the skies. The soft’ning wax, that felt a nearer sun, Dissolv’d apace, and soon began to run. The youth in vain his melting pinions shakes, His feathers gone, no longer air he takes: Oh! Father, father, as he strove to cry, Down to the sea he tumbled from on high, And found his Fate; yet still subsists by fame, Among those waters that retain his name.” are told just en passant…
And the beautiful story of Philemon and Baucis is most warmhearted and even romantic.

Book the Ninth: Vicissitudes of love keep ruling over both gods and mortals…
I liked how an origin of cornucopia was described: “Nor yet his fury cool’d; ’twixt rage and scorn, From my maim’d front he tore the stubborn horn: This, heap’d with flow’rs, and fruits, the Naiads bear, Sacred to plenty, and the bounteous year.”
And the process of turning of Heracles into a constellation was beautiful: “So when Alcides mortal mold resign’d, His better part enlarg’d, and grew refin’d; August his visage shone; almighty Jove In his swift carr his honour’d offspring drove; High o’er the hollow clouds the coursers fly, And lodge the hero in the starry sky.”
I especially enjoyed the tale of Iphis and Ianthe. Even Egyptian goddess Isis had her finger in the pie – she assisted two girls in love with each other transforming one of them into a youth making thus their love legal: “Not much in fear, nor fully satisfy’d; But Iphis follow’d with a larger stride: The whiteness of her skin forsook her face; Her looks embolden’d with an awful grace; Her features, and her strength together grew, And her long hair to curling locks withdrew. Her sparkling eyes with manly vigour shone, Big was her voice, audacious was her tone. The latent parts, at length reveal’d, began To shoot, and spread, and burnish into man. The maid becomes a youth; no more delay Your vows, but look, and confidently pay.”
All we need is love…

Book the Tenth: Story of Orpheus and Eurydice seems to be most popular in the world of poetry, arts, literature and even music. And “Never look back” is also an archetypal motif in myths, the Bible (Lot’s wife) and many fairytales all over the world: “They well-nigh now had pass’d the bounds of night, And just approach’d the margin of the light, When he, mistrusting lest her steps might stray, And gladsome of the glympse of dawning day, His longing eyes, impatient, backward cast To catch a lover’s look, but look’d his last; For, instant dying, she again descends, While he to empty air his arms extends.”
Pygmalion carved his statue in ivory: “Yet fearing idleness, the nurse of ill, In sculpture exercis’d his happy skill; And carv’d in iv’ry such a maid, so fair, As Nature could not with his art compare…” so it couldn’t be bigger than a figurine or a statuette but the story goes as if it were lifesize.
And the clinical case of Myrrha’s incestual lust is told in a weird psychoanalytical style of Sigmund Freud.
And anemone is an extremely anemic flower: “Still here the Fate of lovely forms we see, So sudden fades the sweet Anemonie. The feeble stems, to stormy blasts a prey, Their sickly beauties droop, and pine away.”

Book the Eleventh: Orpheus has met the bitter end – he was ripped to shreds by drunken Maenads: “His mangled limbs lay scatter’d all around, His head, and harp a better fortune found; In Hebrus’ streams they gently roul’d along, And sooth’d the waters with a mournful song.” Somehow, this reminded me of the mass hysteria of the Beatles’ concerts in the middle of the sixties…
Ever since my childhood I was fascinated with the fable of King Midas – I enjoyed both his golden touch foolishness: “He pluck’d the corn, and strait his grasp appears Fill’d with a bending tuft of golden ears,” and his award of ass’s ears: “Fix’d on his noddle an unseemly pair, Flagging, and large, and full of whitish hair; Without a total change from what he was, Still in the man preserves the simple ass.”
“Pan tun’d the pipe, and with his rural song Pleas’d the low taste of all the vulgar throng; Such songs a vulgar judgment mostly please, Midas was there, and Midas judg’d with these.” It reads exactly as if Ovid portrayed the showbiz and music critics of today.
And Ceyx’s hapless attempt at seafaring is in a way quite antithetical to The Odyssey: “An universal cry resounds aloud, The sailors run in heaps, a helpless crowd; Art fails, and courage falls, no succour near; As many waves, as many deaths appear.” The sea always was a merciless widow-maker.

Book the Twelfth: This book is of war and warriors. One strangled warrior was turned into a swan and one raped maiden was turned into male warrior… The incessant descriptions of battles are too monotonous and tedious and even the death of Achilles seems to be unimpressive: “Of all the mighty man, the small remains
A little urn, and scarcely fill’d, contains.”

Book the Thirteenth: Troy fell. Ajax and Ulysses compete for dead Achilles’ magical armor. “Brawn without brain is thine: my prudent care Foresees, provides, administers the war…” Ulysses declares and wins… “Now cannot his unmaster’d grief sustain, But yields to rage, to madness, and disdain…” Unable to endure his dishonor, Ajax falls upon his own sword… War is evil… Make love, not war.

Book the Fourteenth: Nymphomaniac sorceress Circe embarks on a spree of malicious alterations: out of jealousy she turns Scylla into a bloodthirsty monster: “Soon as the nymph wades in, her nether parts Turn into dogs; then at her self she starts…” and she turns innocent sailors into beasts: “Soon, in a length of face, our head extends; Our chine stiff bristles bears, and forward bends: A breadth of brawn new burnishes our neck; Anon we grunt, as we begin to speak.” And with many adventures Ulysses sails on and on…

Book the Fifteenth: Rome is founded and caesars begin to reign trying to usurp divine power of their gods…
“The work is finish’d, which nor dreads the rage Of tempests, fire, or war, or wasting age…”
Gods are like humans but they are more vainglorious, more powerful, more cunning, more perfidious, more libidinous and much more vengeful.

NARCISSUS AND ECHO:

The Birth of Narcissus

Narcissus was fathered by Cephisus, who "forcefully ravished" the dark river nymph, Liriope.

Narcissus was so beautiful that, even in his cradle, you could have fallen in love with him.

His family asked a seer whether he would live to a ripe old age. He replied, "Yes, if he does not come to know himself."

At first, it seemed that this reply was innocuous. However, ultimately, according to Ovid, it was proven to be true for two reasons: "the strange madness" that afflicted the boy and the nature of his death.

Sweet Sixteen

At the age of 16, Narcissus could be counted as both a boy and a man.

Both males and females fell in love with him. However, Ovid says that "his soft young body housed a pride so unyielding that none of those boys or girls dared to touch him."

The implications of this assessment are complicated. There are three components:

1. Narcissus was proud or vain.

2. He (or his pride) was unyielding.

3. None of his admirers dared to touch him.

What is unclear is whether he rejected the approaches of his admirers.

Did he not yield to their approaches? Alternatively, did he appear to be so unyielding that they didn't make any approaches? Did none dare to approach him?

The Importance of Gender

It's important to recognise that Narcissus' admirers were of both genders.

He was equally attractive to both.

Equally, he implicitly rejected approaches from both genders, so there is no reason to suspect that his sexuality was resolutely either heterosexual or homosexual or bisexual.

The Arrival of Echo

The narrative accelerates with the entry of Echo.

She is unable to initiate a conversation, but can respond to another's comments, by repeating the last words that she has heard.

She falls in love with Narcissus. When he detects her presence, he says "I would die before I would have you touch me." Echo replies, "I would have you touch me." She is inviting physical contact. He scorns her and she wastes away, almost anorexically, until only her voice is left.

At this point, Ovid mentions that Narcissus has treated her exactly as he has treated both female and male admirers.




"Echo and Narcissus" (1903), by John William Waterhouse


An Admirer Scorned

Now, another of Narcissus' admirers (not Echo) causes him to be cursed:

"May he himself fall in love with another, as we have done with him! May he too be unable to gain his loved one!"

The curse effectively makes his love unattainable.

A Clear Pool with Shining Silvery Waters

In the next scene, we find Narcissus next to a pool in the woods.

As he drinks from the pool, he becomes enchanted with the beautiful reflection that he sees.

He has become "spellbound by his own self". However, at this stage, there is no suggestion that he knows that the image is himself:

"Unwittingly, he desired himself, and was himself the object of his own approval, at once seeking and sought, himself kindling the flame with which he burned."

Unknowingly, Subject and Object had become one.

However, as a result of the curse, the Subject could not attain his Object, himself.

The Shadow of Your Reflection

Ovid warns Narcissus in the text:

"Poor foolish boy, why vainly grasp at the fleeting image that eludes you? The thing you are seeing does not exist; only turn aside and you will lose what you love. What you see is but the shadow cast by your reflection; in itself it is nothing. It comes with you, and lasts while you are there; it will go when you go, if go you can."

However, there is no suggestion that Narcissus hears the warning. Ovid's caveat comes after the event, when he is writing his tale. Narcissus must acquire knowledge of his predicament on his own. He must come to know himself alone.

Narcissus' Love

Narcissus' dilemma is that he can't reach or attain his love:

"I am in love, and see my loved one, but that for which I see and love, I cannot reach; so far am I deluded by my love...Only a little water keeps us apart."

Eventually, he recognises himself and realises the nature of his love:

"Alas! I am myself the boy I see. I know it: my own reflection does not deceive me. I am on fire with love for my own self. It is I who kindle the flames which I must endure."

What is to be done?

"What should I do? Woo or be wooed? But what then shall I seek by my wooing? What I desire, I have..."

He has come to recognise that the Object of the Subject is the Subject itself.

Because he already possesses himself (in fact, he is self-possessed), his desire is futile. He cannot acquire again what he already has.

Separation and Pursuit

His one response is:

"How I wish I could separate myself from my body."

The mind needs to separate from the body, the Subject needs to separate from the Object, so that the one can pursue the other.

This process of separation would make it possible to both desire and acquire. However, again, it is a futile endeavour.

My Ill-Starred Love

Narcissus realises that he can never touch the object of his love, because it is watery and illusory.

As his image recedes in the pool, he pleads:

"Let me look upon you, if I cannot touch you! Let me, by looking, feed my ill-starred love."

Let me gaze, if I cannot touch. Even if the object of my gaze is myself.

He remains trapped in his self-possession.

Woe is Me

Narcissus, absorbed by his own image, remains by the pool and does not eat or drink. Like Echo before him, he wastes away. His last words before he dies are:

"Woe is me for the boy I loved in vain!"

It seems that he has come to "know himself" It's interesting to speculate on the meaning of this phrase in this context. Normally, to "know yourself" would be good advice and might prolong life. Here, knowledge will abbreviate Narcissus' life. I wonder whether the verb "know" is being used in a different sense to knowledge, perhaps something analogous to the "Biblical sense"? Was his problem knowing himself as he might know an Other? Alternatively, is there an implication that the illusion could have continued had he not recognised himself? and therefore, in terms of the prophecy, he would not live a long life.

When they are preparing his funeral pyre, the only evidence of him they can find is "a flower with circle of white petals round a yellow centre", a narcissus.

Love of One's Own Echo

The Narcissus myth has been interpreted as a warning against:

1. self-love; and/or

2. homosexual love.

It's arguable that the reason Narcissus loved in vain, is that he loved in vanity.

If initially he loved another, eventually he loved his own image.

However, in doing so he was deluded, or he deluded himself.

The object of the pursuit needs to be an Other, an Object, not the Subject.

It takes two to make one.

Vanity or excessive pride can be an obstacle in this quest.

Same Sex Attraction

The second issue relates to whether the Object needs to be an Other, someone who is not like you. In other words, someone who is different, someone who is of a different gender.

In a way, the implicit question is whether homosexuality is a quest for another self, a match, a doppelgänger, rather than an opposite or a complement.

If the former, is homosexuality a form of "narcissism"?

I don't think that the original Narcissus myth implies anything about homosexuality.

Initially, Narcissus did not yield to approaches by either gender. There was no differentiation between heterosexuality and homosexuality. They were equally available and appropriate.

It's true that, inevitably, Narcissus saw a male image in the pool, just as a woman would have seen a female image. He also rejected the advances of the female Echo (as he did previously reject the advances of both genders).

However, I don't see the myth as a caveat against same sex attraction and relationships.

Leaving Room for An Other

The real issue seems to be a preoccupation or an obsession with yourself, the obsession of Subject for Subject. This is the "strange madness" that Ovid refers to.

In other words, the myth itself suggests that it is not sufficient for a Subject to be attracted to itself, a Subject needs an Object, regardless of gender.

Although Echo was originally a nymph capable of giving love to Narcissus, her fate in mythology suggests that, while it might have been legitimate for Narcissus to fall in love with Echo, it wasn't appropriate for Narcissus to fall in love with his own echo.

Ultimately, Narcissus died by his own hand, killed by a reflection or an echo of his former self.



This review is part of a reading sequence that includes both Freud and subsequent Queer Theory:

On Narcissism: An Introduction

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

Reflecting Narcissus: A Queer Aesthetic

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...