Echo
Yesterday, my class was reading Book 3 of Ovid's Metamorphoses, including the story about Echo and Narcissus. We arrived at some profound points (no thanks to me, of course, in my silenced state) about how Ovid is engaging with the genre of tragedy in his Theban stories. And one of the characteristics of tragedy is that it's all about collateral damage. No one actually deserves any of the terrible things that happen to them, they just happen to be standing in the way of reckless, unjust gods through some bad luck. The Greek tragedy is not a morality play.
Considering all that, it's striking when Echo prays to the goddess Nemesis that Narcissus may never be loved by the one he desires. Nemesis? Nemesis rarely appears in tragedy, if at all, precisely because the tragic world is not an orderly one, in which crime A equals punishment B. Instead, justice figures as something primoridial and chaotic, vengeful at best, such as the Furies. By mentioning Nemesis, Ovid seems to be deliberately inviting a wrong, cartoonish interpretation of the tragey. Thus the Echo episode ends, and the Narcissus one continues.
Or so it seems. At the very end of the Narcissus story, Echo makes a last cameo. As Narcissus dies, grieving for his own death, Echo grieves, too - even though she was the one who prayed for this to happen. Again, collateral damage. Echo is the real tragic heroine because she committed no crime, but was standing in the way of a haphazard justice.
Anyways, I bring all this up because I AM Echo this week. Not being able to talk has robbed me of my entire personality. And there's nothing I can do but watch as the embers of a new relationship die out, in this tricky first stage; because once you take personal charm out of the equation, anything I do will be construed as either (a) neglectful, or (b) needy, depending on which tactic I choose to play. That's too bad. But perhaps once the embers start to die, there's nothing you can do about it anyways. I'm beginning to suspect more and more that that's the case.
At any rate, I'll feel much better once I can talk again. Being Ovidian is not all it's cracked up to be.
Considering all that, it's striking when Echo prays to the goddess Nemesis that Narcissus may never be loved by the one he desires. Nemesis? Nemesis rarely appears in tragedy, if at all, precisely because the tragic world is not an orderly one, in which crime A equals punishment B. Instead, justice figures as something primoridial and chaotic, vengeful at best, such as the Furies. By mentioning Nemesis, Ovid seems to be deliberately inviting a wrong, cartoonish interpretation of the tragey. Thus the Echo episode ends, and the Narcissus one continues.
Or so it seems. At the very end of the Narcissus story, Echo makes a last cameo. As Narcissus dies, grieving for his own death, Echo grieves, too - even though she was the one who prayed for this to happen. Again, collateral damage. Echo is the real tragic heroine because she committed no crime, but was standing in the way of a haphazard justice.
Anyways, I bring all this up because I AM Echo this week. Not being able to talk has robbed me of my entire personality. And there's nothing I can do but watch as the embers of a new relationship die out, in this tricky first stage; because once you take personal charm out of the equation, anything I do will be construed as either (a) neglectful, or (b) needy, depending on which tactic I choose to play. That's too bad. But perhaps once the embers start to die, there's nothing you can do about it anyways. I'm beginning to suspect more and more that that's the case.
At any rate, I'll feel much better once I can talk again. Being Ovidian is not all it's cracked up to be.
posted by Rex at 2:51 PM
2 Comments:
Ooh, come to think of it I had the same situation happen to me. I had just started dating someone but then had no voice.. so when they called I couldnt pick up. I ended up emailing him telling him that I was mute and would call him when I got my voice back.. We hung out a few times after that but then he got mad at me when I didnt put out.. Bastard! Then again he was an A-hole from the get go and I knew that.. the silly things we do :)
Yeah... I'm a solid convert to your philosophy that we'll pretty much always do silly things, no matter how much we swear that we're going to things differently next time. I tried emailing this guy, but I think he's already moved on. ADD or something.
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