Audiobook Review: Pandora’s Jar by Natalie Haynes

Audiobook Review: Pandora’s Jar by Natalie Haynes

The Greek myths are one of the most important cultural foundation-stones of the modern world.Stories of gods and monsters are the mainstay of epic poetry and Greek tragedy, from Homer to Virgil to from Aeschylus to Sophocles and Euripides. And still, today, a wealth of novels, plays and films draw their inspiration from stories first told almost three thousand years ago. But modern tellers of…

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[It can be said, surely, that Ariadne wept. That she found her knees in the sand and her throat caught by the burn of the sun. There is enough grief there- radiating from her slender body, to feed a King full and then some. There is madness to be found in the heat of the tormenting sun, in the heartbreak slung against the rocks, in the dehydration and headache that crawls forwards from her weeping. There is madness to be found elsewhere, as well. It is called to, though not vocally. Like a bigcat with its nose perked by the scent of spilled blood caught in the wind, it stalks. Inevitably, the stranger-god descends.]

STRANGER: Hello, hello. Why do you cry, young lady, with your jewels to the dirt? I could feel you shaking the island with your tears all the way from the other side of it.

PRINCESS: Forgive me, stranger. I had believed myself to be alone here in these accursed dunes.

STRANGER: And why are you by yourself here, vulnerable as you are to sharp rocks and salty tide? I saw that ship curve close enough to drop you off like damaged cargo, and I see it now on the horizon as it pulls slowly away. 

PRINCESS: I have been left to die. 

STRANGER: And will you?

PRINCESS: What?

STRANGER: Die.

PRINCESS: Oh. Well everyone does, don’t they? Why delay it any longer?

STRANGER: Do they?

PRINCESS: There is nothing here but miserable heat and saltwater and heartbreak. Death will ride his own boat here eventually. I would do best to sit and wait.

STRANGER: You claim to be so resigned, but still you weep. 

PRINCESS: I’ve had a terrible day, stranger. I’m allowed to be contradicting. 

STRANGER: Please stand at least, princess. It ails me to see you crumpled in the sand. 

PRINCESS: How would you know me as princess?

STRANGER: You are of Crete. It is in your blood. It is why I am offended on your behalf, that you should be cast aside like molding wood or day old fruit.

PRINCESS: Oh, I don’t want to talk about Crete! I don’t want to talk about anything at all, actually. Can’t you go away, stranger? I tried to be amicable but I am tired and my head pulses with pain.

STRANGER: Then you should rest. Here, come with me.

PRINCESS: Why would I go with you, man who knows things he should not?

STRANGER: You seem bitter now, knowing I know your name.

PRINCESS: Of course I am bitter. Anywhere I rest on this island I will wake up dead. What difference does it make, to curl up right here?

STRANGER: You can stay here in the sand and watch your skin blister while you scream with madness from the heat of the sun. I will watch, too. Or I could take you somewhere much nicer.

PRINCESS: If that is how you try and tempt a woman, I must at least award you with the grace of being better than the last man who did so. 

STRANGER: You have not seen a fraction of my temptation. Otherwise you would already be attached to my side and clawing at my hip.

PRINCESS: You are bold.

STRANGER: Bold is a fine word, though I’d rather like to say I simply have a good sense of humor.

PRINCESS: You have yet to make me laugh.

STRANGER: My first joke.

PRINCESS: Was it?

STRANGER: You distract me with your harshness, princess. Please, let me get you out from under the sun. I can promise you will find me more palatable somewhere away from here.

PRINCESS: And how are you to take me anywhere? There is not another boat parked anywhere on this island!

STRANGER: When did I say anything of a boat?

PRINCESS: You are beginning to make me feel crazy.

STRANGER: Yes, I haven’t decided if that is my goal yet or not.

PRINCESS: Where would you take me, then, and how would we get there?

STRANGER: I would take you anywhere you’d like to go, princess. My first intention, though, would be to guide your hand up to Heaven. It’s a nice place to cool down. Grab a drink.

PRINCESS: You are calling yourself a god, to say you would be able to bring me up to Olympos.

STRANGER: I am.

PRINCESS: A god. Oh, yes, I think I see it.

STRANGER: And do you know me?

PRINCESS: I fear that I may.

STRANGER: You don’t sound very excited.

PRINCESS: I think I am hallucinating.

STRANGER: Hallucinating is never necessarily a bad thing.

PRINCESS: I think you may be the only person to ever have said so.

STRANGER: I’ve met many a madwoman who would agree with me.

PRINCESS: I imagine those in your retinue would agree with anything you say.

STRANGER: Are you confessing to recognizing me? I had worried perhaps that word of me had ceased to pass between the royal halls of Crete.

PRINCESS: Everyone knows of you.

STRANGER: You flatter me.

PRINCESS: Which is why I hesitate to go along with you anywhere. You could have me ripped apart by cheetahs.

STRANGER: What a thought! It is not usually my cats which do the maiming.

PRINCESS: You would not have me torn apart by human hands like some common woman.

STRANGER: Of course not. No, you are not common at all.

PRINCESS: It is of no debate. My mother is a goddess.

STRANGER: Perhaps we’ve met.

PRINCESS: Well, hopefully not. 

STRANGER: Then why bring it up? 

PRINCESS: Oh, I do not know. Perhaps the heat is truly getting to me now, ripping me from my senses.

STRANGER: Though the thought of you senseless delights me, I must once again suggest departure. Perfect time as any to ditch this joint. 

PRINCESS: If truly you would take me to Olympos, how can I know that I will not walk the slope of the mountain only to be melted to nothing by the full force of the gods in Heaven?

STRANGER: I hope that was not a dig at my own mother.

PRINCESS: I- no, it was not intended as such. My lord. 

STRANGER: Ha! I’ve made you flustered enough to call me lord, though it was easier than I had thought it would be. Do not fear, princess, for my mother will adore you.

PRINCESS: Why present it as a choice, then, if you are going to take me with you regardless?

STRANGER: Did I say that? I leave you with your choice. My mother will adore you if she meets you in Heaven, or she will adore you when I bring her here in a fortnight and she gazes with me at what remains of your body - bloated and red as a grape and dehydrated by the sun.

PRINCESS: That doesn’t leave me much option.

STRANGER: Sure it does. One is simply a better option than the other.

PRINCESS: How can I know you will not ditch me as well?

STRANGER: Your heart is still so tender. I had hoped the sight of me would have driven that blond out of your thoughts by now.

PRINCESS: You’d thought I would rejoice? My heart is still broken.

STRANGER: I’d love to see what you do with all that grief.

PRINCESS: I’d burn his ship to nothing if I could.

STRANGER: And devour this island whole.

PRINCESS: The sea with it, were it in my power.

STRANGER: I could make it so.

PRINCESS: But surely you have some ulterior motive.

STRANGER: Yes, most definitely. 

PRINCESS: Such easy admittance!

STRANGER: I find motives of the heart most easily confessed.

PRINCESS: You want my heart? You have just called it tender! Just seen it stomped on!

STRANGER: Do you truly fear I would do the same? I am no mortal man.

PRINCESS: Man all the same.

STRANGER: Unless you’d like me to be otherwise.

PRINCESS: You would take with you a woman dumped at sea by a hero?

STRANGER: You say it like it is shameful. Do you care still what he thinks? Do yourself a favor. Wear your grief around your throat like a locket if you like, but wear it for yourself. Not for him.

PRINCESS: I suppose maybe you are right. It is true he is horrible. Scheming and crude, and not in a good way.

STRANGER: There is a good way to be those things?

PRINCESS: I suppose if there is then it is you who embodies it.

STRANGER: You beckon me with such kind words.

PRINCESS: You almost stole a laugh from me, but I will not bend.

STRANGER: Give it a bit of time. Come with me, princess. If nothing else, I’ve a love for gossip and a great ear. Bear your heart to me. Come and complain to me for days. For years.

PRINCESS: You are so strange.

STRANGER: Give me an answer at least, after dragging my own heart so far along. Will you stay on this island or come with me to Olympos?

PRINCESS: Honestly, what kind of question is that? Anyone with any sense would pick Olympos. Only a fool would deny you.

STRANGER: I hope you are only admitting to having been purposefully difficult, and that you are not confessing to being a fool yourself.

[Behind her head the horizon sings in saffron and scarlet, opening up its mouth in waiting for wine-god. His watching does not cease, his gaze so piercing as he waits for her to vocalize her answer. The princess held down thickly with wiles - those of her own making and those of others pressed onto her- stands shakily to her feet in the cursed sand. She stumbles but does not fall, holding her weight and raising her head to meet eyes of molten walnut. For one second Ariadne is sure the undying god seethes with the sight of a Feast in front of him, but only she is there.]

ARIADNE: Take me to Heaven in your hands, lord Dionysos.

DIONYSOS: Then come, Ariadne. 

This is more of an embellishment than a retelling but since Dionysos growing up with Ampelos is part of existing mythology, I tagged it as a retelling rather than an original myth. I hope you enjoy. Evoe!

“Hurry up, hurry up! He’s coming!”

Ampelos’ tail was swishing in excitement. Dionysos poured their concoction into the cup, careful not to spill anything and reveal their mischief. His peplos was stained with the juices of fruit and herbs, condemning evidence of their attempt at pharmakeia.

“Ruuuuun!” Ampelos snatched the empty jar and pulled him off the table, rushing into the nearby bushes. Dionysos crouched down next to him, still holding on to his hand.

“Do you think it’s gonna work?”

“Sure! It works for Kirke, doesn’t it?”

“Kirke is a goddess.”

“And you have abilities beyond the scope of any mortal girl. Your mother MUST be a nymph! Plus, I’m a satyr. A spark of the divine is in me too.”

“Yes.” Dionysos looked to the ground. True, he had a gift with plants. When they carefully cut the black roots for their milky ooze, there was more than enough from a single plant. They always found the herbs they were looking for, as if gentle Demeter or honey-sweet Persephone were watching with kind eyes. Ampelos was right, he was no mortal girl.

“Look, look, look!” The satyr boy whispered, nudging his ribs with a boney elbow. “He’s here!”

Old Silenos had arrived at his chair, the table with his cup right next to it.

“Should’ve thought twice before having children,” he muttered, “Not a moment to oneself!”

He fell into the chair heavily, sniffing at the cup he deemed filled with nectar, the drink of the immortal gods. Irresponsible to leave it unguarded as he did, really. Dionysos put a hand over his mouth not to giggle.

“Aaaah, how a drink can revive an old goat!”

The satyr put the cup to his lips, draining its contents eagerly. A resounding belch attetest to his satisfaction with the drink. He adjusted his chair slightly to sit in the sun and closed his eyes. Dionysos watched with growing discontentment.

“Nothing’s happening!”

“Maybe it takes a while to take effect?” Ampelos hugged him. “I’m sure we did everything right!”

Dionysos would have complained about how tedious it was to wait hiding in the bushes but hiding in the bushes cuddling with Ampelos more than made up for the wait. The satyr boy’s lush hair tickled Dionysos’ soft neck. He wore it long, in the fashion of young men, but even the hair couldn’t hide his pointed, donkey-like ears. Dionysos’ heart was pounding. If his father ever saw him, he’d come down as an eagle and take him away to Mount Olympos like he did with the Trojan prince. He rubbed the cute snubby nose with his own, as if accidental, prompting his friend’s tail to rise. Ampelos caught his gaze. His eyes were as green as the forest they lived in and just as beautiful. Was he interested? Should he be looking away? What if Ampelos thought him a w- Suddenly his lips were on his, warm and gentle and oh so unambiguous in its expression of love. Dionysos stroked his long, soft donkey ears, the kiss sweeter even than the nectar that Hermes brought from Olympos.

“Oh sweetness…” Ampelos sighed. “I love you.”

Dionysos heart jumped, the moment of innocent joy crushed by the ugly truth.

“I… I need to tell you something, Ampelos.”

He blushed deeper than a pomegranate at harvest.

“What is it?” The satyr boy was smiling at him. Evidently he didn’t expect anything that could change his feelings.

“I’m not a girl.”

Ampelos shrugged.

“Do you mean to say that you are not a virgin? That you already slept with someone? I don’t mind.”

“No. I…” Dionysos sighed. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, not a single soul. But if they kissed, there would be hands. Wandering hands. He’d rather avoid any accidental discoveries. Hermes and Pappa Silenos couldn’t expect him to stay chaste forever, could they? If they had wanted that, they would have sent him to his sister Artemis and her retinue. Among all these handsome satyrs and seductive nymphs, it would be cruel to never let him touch.

“Come on!” Ampelos cuddled him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“I’m the son of Zeus who gathers the clouds.” Dionysos gouged his reaction with big, dark eyes. “Swift Hermes is my brother. He and Pappa Silenos thought it would be best to raise me as a girl so Hera won’t notice I am here. She tried to kill me several times already.”

“Oh…” Ampelos tightened the embrace. “That must have been horrible!”

“It was. It is. I can’t know if maybe she’ll find me again. Hermes turned me into a goat kid once to hide me. I don’t want to spend my life as a goat!”

“I’m sure you were a very cute goat.” Ampelos smiled. “I’ll keep your secret. As promised. All of them.”

“Thank you.” Dionysos cuddled up to his friend’s chest. “I’d get in so much trouble otherw-”

His words were drowned by another kiss, unexpected and wonderful. His worries melted away. Ampelos would be by his side, no matter what. He was about to give his boyfriend’s lips a lick when a sudden noise interrupted their kiss. Their eyes darted back to Silenos who was standing in front of the bushes, pouring a jug of water out over them.

“Trying to curse me with a potion, eh? And smoochin’ in the bushes to boot! Ungrateful rascals, if I get a hold of you your buttocks will be raw!”

Ampelos and Dionysos scrambled to crawl out of the bushes and run for the hills. Thankfully, Silenos was old and slow and he didn’t catch them but they’d have to return home in the evening. Hopefully he’d have forgotten until then. As far as Dionysos was concerned, they could stay hidden away in the hills forever. They had just discovered a wonderful way to pass the time. And there would be many more to follow.

FIN

I want to thank @odiko-ptino for the idea of a youthful Dionysos pranking Silenos and recommend this beautiful artwork of Ampelos and Dionysos that served as inspiration for the love story (aside from the original myths). Many thanks also to the organisers of the online Dionysia, it’s always a delight