Pandora's Jar: Women in the Greek Myths(85)
But the question remains: is the trouble something she does, by opening a jar? Or is it something she is? Pandora is the first woman; thanks to her (according to Hesiod), the carefree age of men comes to an end. But you’ll forgive me for suggesting that an all-male age with no women (and no fire) sounds incredibly boring. Of course it was carefree, what the hell would anyone care about?
Pandora is an agent of change, and the embodiment of the will of Zeus. She is not an unmitigated evil, as her box-opening reputation might have you believe. She is dual: kalon kakon, beautiful and ugly, good and evil. What Pandora brings to mortals is complexity. And that is true of all the women in this book: some have been painted as villains (Clytemnestra, Medea), some as victims (Eurydice, Penelope), some have been literally monstered (Medusa). But they are much more complicated than these thumbnail descriptions allow. Their stories should be read, seen, heard in all their difficult, messy, murderous detail. They aren’t simple, because nothing interesting is simple.
We do not live in a world of heroes and villains, and if we believe we do, we should really consider the possibility that we haven’t thought about things properly. We cannot hope to make sense of our stories or ourselves (myths are a mirror of us, after all) if we refuse to look at half of the picture. Or – worse – don’t even notice half of it is missing. This book is an attempt to fill in some of the blank space.
Acknowledgements
GEORGE MORLEY IS THE SMARTEST EDITOR A PERSON COULD HOPE for, as well as being a generally wonderful human being in all regards. I’m so glad she wanted this book. Peter Straus is the Platonic ideal of agents: I was crazy-lucky the day he took me on, and I still am. He is in complete denial about how awesome he is, so feel free to tell him if you ever bump into him.
The book was edited during lockdown. There are possibly better address books than mine for such an eventuality, but it’s hard to imagine whose. Roslynne Bell, Paul Cartledge and Patrick O’Sullivan all used their quarantine time to read and make corrections. They saved me from carelessness and/or stupidity more times than I care to think: remaining mistakes are mine, of course. Chloe May was my super-patient desk editor, Marissa Constantinou read the manuscript alongside George, Susan Opie was the copy-editor.
Edith Hall, Philippa Perry, Tim Whitmarsh, Tim Parkin, Emma Bridges, Tim Marlow, Francesca Stavrakopoulou, Adam Rutherford and Shaun Whiteside all offered their expertise without hesitation. I saw every version of Eurydice I wrote about with Julian Barnes (I’m pretty sure I neglected to mention the one where we skipped out early and had cocktails instead of Act Three). A huge gang of nerds – classicists, writers, musicians, historians, scientists – offered their favourite versions of each of these women when I asked for suggestions. I wish I’d had space to include everything; it all informed my thinking around the work I did include. Sometimes they reminded me of things I’d forgotten, often they introduced me to work I didn’t know. It was a wonderful way to broaden the focus of this book and I can’t thank them enough.
Pauline Lord runs my gig diary like an actual machine, and without her I would just be sitting on a bench at a distant railway station wondering where I live. Matilda McMorrow looks after my social-media existence and generally makes sure I don’t get lost in the woods. Christian Hill runs the website beautifully, as he has for (I think) twenty years. I’d be lost without them. Mary Ward-Lowery and I made two series of Natalie Haynes Stands Up for the Classics for Radio 4 while I was writing and editing this book, James Cook told us to make it how we had to when the Radio Theatre was closed. I spend so much time working alone, it is wonderful to have a collaborative project to make with people who care about it so much.
Dan Mersh read every chapter as I finished it. He must surely have thought he’d be off the hook from that by now, but no: thank you, always. Helen Bagnall is a wonderful friend, always full of imagination and ideas. Damian Barr is both magnificent and almost impossibly generous. Robert Douglas-Fairhurst is my touchstone each day. Helen Artlett-Coe is the lawless desperado I need. Michelle Flower checks in on me with pictures of cats: this is vital to my wellbeing. So many of my friends reached out and took care of me while I wrote this, and again while I edited it. They were solitary times, during which I very rarely felt alone.
Sam Thorpe, Jenny Antonioni and everyone at TMAP kept me from crumbling under the stress of trying to write a book while doing a seventy-date tour of its predecessor. They didn’t stop doing that when we couldn’t go into the dojo, either, they just took it online instead. Well, warrior women have to learn to fight somewhere.
My lovely family kept me on an even keel too: thanks to my mum (if you’re reading this after a book festival appearance, you have already met my mum), my dad, Chris, Gem and Kez.
Notes
PANDORA
1. Hesiod, Works and Days, introduction xiv.
2. Louvre Museum.
3. Sir John Soane’s Museum.
4. http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2014/british-irish-art-l14132/lot.207.html.
5. Hesiod, Theogony 585.
6. Ibid 570.
7. Ibid 585.
8. Ibid 587.
9. Hesiod, Works and Days 57.
10. Ibid 80–3.
11. Ibid 96.
12. Theognis, frag 1. 1135.
13. The Aesop Romance.
14. Aesop Fable 526 (Gibbs)/123 (Chambry)/312 (Perry).