Inspiration of Mythic Proportions Part I (from Kristina Wojtaszek)

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This is part one of a two part series from Kristina Wojtaszek, author of OPAL. Her novella is part of the winter romance anthology, A Winter's Enchantment, alongside my own contribution, TAMING FATE. Part two will be posting Thursday, March 6th! --Amalia

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Nothing is written that hasn't been told before, or so it's said.  And when you begin reading the oldest fairy tales you can find, those firstborns sired by folkloric fathers and mythical mothers, you realize it must be true.  There is always something older, something that came before.  Even the gods and goddesses of myth have parents; even they have some unfathomable beginning.  So it shouldn't surprise us when we find a Beauty in the Beast in the story of Persephone and Hades, or that East of the Sun, West of the Moon is so like the tale of Cupid and Psyche.  Ever wondered if Pandora was really married to Bluebeard, or if Snow White's vain stepmother had any relation to Aphrodite?

As I began to reacquaint myself with Greek mythology, I kept finding scattered seeds of fairy tales within the fruit of their stories.  Even the infamous Hans Christian Andersen and Charles Perrault, who are celebrated as fathers of many well-known fairy tales, gained inspiration from older folklore.  But how much mythology did they know, and did it play any part in the creation of their fairy tales?  Here I explore two of their fairy tales that have quite striking mythological equivalents, which may or may not be coincidental.

1) Hephaestus pounds out a Steadfast Tin Soldier  

Biographer Jackie Wullschlager tells us that Hans Christian Andersen's Steadfast Tin Soldier “is the first tale he wrote which has neither a folk tale source nor a literary model, but comes straight out of his imagination…"  Now that I have begun reading Wullschlager's stunning biography of Andersen, I cannot help but see a bit of his own life story in this beloved tale of a little soldier who is pushed along on many a journey by fate, and who never quite fits in or finds an equal in love, but sacrifices himself wholly to his art, being ultimately steadfast in the vision of his future.  So I think the connection I've made between The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Greek god of metallurgy is really one of my own imagining.

Still, the resemblance is remarkable between the disfigured godling who is cast from his mother, Hera, at the sight of his ugly, twisted, and useless leg, and that of the tin soldier whose maker ran out of tin and left him with but a single leg to stand on.  Whether Hera exiled Hephaestus from Olympus due to his birth defect, or Zeus exiled him for coming between he and Hera (and his throwing Hephaestus down from Olympus caused his leg to become injured and lame), Hephaestus was the only exiled god to return to Olympus, where he worked (steadfastly!) hammering out the powerful weapons and armor of the gods.  He was an outcast who was literally cast out, just as the tin soldier was blown, or thrown, from his place out the window.  And Hephaestus journeyed to earth, just as the soldier journeyed through many realms, and yet both returned to serve; Hephaestus at work in his special place in Olympus, and the soldier at the side of his love, the little paper dancer, even as she fell into the fire.

Though it is doubtful that Hephaestus had any influence on the tale of the Steadfast Tin Soldier, his ability to create animistic statues, as those that guard the gates of Olympus, and his steady dedication to his work despite all that debilitated him, is very like Hans Christian Andersen himself, who was one of the first children's authors to give animation to toys and voices to everyday objects, in order to tell in some small way the greater story of his life.

Tune in Thursday for Part Two, Featuring Perrault, Little Red Riding Hood, and Cronus!

Affairs of the Gods: Hades and Persephone

Hi, Followers-of-Amalia! I’m thrilled to be guest blogging here today. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Diana Paz, longtime friend of the spectacularly talented and adorably wonderful, Amalia. [Note From Amalia: Part One, which discusses Hades and Persephone individually, is over yonder on Diana's blog!]

I’m here today to discuss the topic of my current work-in-progress, the Greek myth most commonly known as The Rape of Persephone. I’m excited to share some of my FINDINGS, and indulge in the glorious research that, in part, makes writing such a joy for me. Onward we go, into the Underworld!

Hades and Persephone: A Match Made in the Underworld

NFA: Hades and Persephone are in the HORSE drawn chariot.
I'd guess that's Dionysus above them with the leopards.

In my mind, there could hardly be a more opposite goddess for the harsh and austere Hades than Persephone, goddess of innocence and springtime. Maybe that’s part of what makes this match so appealing to me. Whoever Hades married would be elevated to the status of queen, and the sheltered Persephone seemed hardly prepared to rule. Her life had been spent doing little more than growing flowers and creating beauty. But maybe that’s all Hades really needed.

So. How did this match come about? There are a few variations explaining how she was whisked off. Sometimes Eros shoots Hades with an arrow when he notices him near Persephone, just for kicks. Sometimes Aphrodite was the mastermind behind this, because Persephone was following in Athena’s and Artemis’ footsteps in becoming another virgin goddess, and Aphrodite wasn’t too pleased about having any more mortals taking vows of chastity. But sometimes Hades is the one who asks Zeus about finding a bride, feeling in need of companionship down in the Underworld. And sometimes it’s Zeus who is depicted as orchestrating the whole affair, because he believes his big brother could use a queen.

Whatever the case, Persephone is usually shown gathering flowers when she wanders away from the protection of the nymphs. She’s often out of earshot, which indicates she’s ventured rather far. Most sources tell of an earthquake, which caused a chasm to open up. Again, whether this happened naturally or because of some kind of planning is unclear, but Hades noticed the chasm, and “left his dark domains to and fro, drawn in his chariot and sable steeds, inspected the foundations of the isle. His survey done, and no point found to fail, he put his fears aside” (Ovid, METAMORPHOSES).  The details of what happened next are arguable, but whether by arrow or design, one thing is certain: the sheltered Persephone’s life would never be the same.

Here’s where my curiosity again takes over. A god like Hades, who is foremost about fulfilling his duties and making sure the rules are obeyed, doesn’t seem like the type who would up and decide to abduct Persephone. He could have courted any goddess, and certainly found someone interested in becoming a queen. So perhaps it was Eros’ arrow after all, and Hades was overcome with ARDOR and kidnapped Persephone after all, but considering what I know about Persephone, what exactly led her to stray so far? There are stories of her curious nature, particularly in opening the golden box sent to her by Aphrodite. Could she have been curious about the chasm that opened up? Most likely it was completely different than anything she’d known. 

In my research, I can’t help noticing that the primary focus is often on Demeter’s distress about losing her daughter, not so much on Persephone’s dismay at being carried off by a king among gods. Little is said about her time in the Underworld, with Demeter’s year-long search taking center stage. Add to this the ambiguity about how, exactly, Persephone ate the pomegranate seeds before leaving the Underworld—was it trickery? After an entire year, Hades tricks her? According to the Homeric Hymns, yes:

…but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will. (Third Homeric Hymn).

But, why didn’t he trick her into eating the seeds sooner than this? And trickery seems pointedly out of character for a god who is so adamant about RULES. Not to mention, some sources show Persephone eating the seeds herself, without realizing:

…for the girl had broken her fast and wandering, childlike, through the orchard trees from a low branch had picked a pomegranate and peeled the yellow rind and found the seeds and nibbled seven. (Ovid, METAMORPHOSES, Book 5).

There are versions in which Hades offers her the seeds without trickery, and she takes them, supposedly not knowing what they’ll do (Apollodorus, for example), but… what if Persephone took the seeds of her own free will? Persephone, having spent an entire year in the Underworld without eating the food of the dead, might have known that something would happen if she did. It seems possible that when Hermes came to deliver her to the sunlit world, maybe she did something rash. She might have missed her mother, but she didn’t mind her life as queen, either. The Underworld could have been a kind of freedom for Persephone from her mother’s overprotectiveness. I can’t help but wonder if she hoped to return.

Like most mythology, there is a lot of room for speculation. I feel like I’ve covered the bases, but maybe I’m way off. Is this simply the abduction of an unwilling goddess and nothing more? Was she a woeful victim sent to the Underworld each winter, longing for the light, or did she return the unlikely affection of a god who wanted nothing more than to make her his divine queen?

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Diana Paz is a web content writer and aspiring author. She was born in Costa Rica, grew up on Miami Beach, moved to Los Angeles in high school, and went to college in San Diego. Basically, she's a beach bum, but she did graduate from California State University, San Marcos with a Bachelor's Degree in Liberal Arts. She loves old movies, epic fantasy, all kinds of music, and heading to the beach with a good book. Preferably sipping a caramel frappuccino. Find her at her blog:dianapazwrites.blogspot.com or on Twitter @dianapazwrites