Sympathy for Apollo Before the Advent of Writing, Myth Was the Main Method for Providing Wisdom and Guidance to the Young, Servi
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“Where all my layers can become reeds, all my limbs can become trees.” ~Daughter (“Smother”) “Leave me where you found me.” ~Bad Bad Hats (“Midway”) Sympathy for Apollo Before the advent of writing, myth was the main method for providing wisdom and guidance to the young, serving also to pass down collective wisdom. Since myth was an oral tradition, everything’s in question about how it was done. With no evidence of how it worked, we can only assume it did. But it is likely that the basic goal was the continued growth and thriving of a society, and this outcome expressed itself through the health and happiness of its members. So to guide someone with myth was to entertain them while subtly pruning their inclinations like a tree. If a person possessed too much of a certain trait but not enough of another, myth could inspire them to develop in the right direction, to eventually become the balanced and fully-formed person they’d wish themselves to be. With this theme in mind, there is a myth I’d like to retell involving Apollo and his failed encounter with a nymph named Daphne. It’s a sweet story, but it’s one which could have ended better. The lesson relates to how hard it can be for two people to meet and begin to get to know each other. Or maybe the theme is to learn when it’s time to quit trying. Here is my version of the myth: One day, Apollo was making his way through the woods in pursuit of inspiration. Along his way, he spotted Daphne, who was beautiful enough to catch his eye. Daphne was sure she’d remain unmarried for the rest of her life, if for no reason than she’d never met an interesting man in her life. So when she saw Apollo, he instantly got all of her attention. But to her surprise, the closer he came to her, the more she felt like fleeing. Apollo pleaded with her to stay, singing the praises of her beauty and telling her about her wonderful future. But Daphne continued to run. She ran all the way to the river, where she found her father, the river god Peneus, swimming. Daphne said “Help! I’m being chased by Apollo and I don’t want to be caught!” Apollo’s pursuit was as overwhelming as a tidal wave and she worried if she was able to swim. Peneus saw this and took pity on his daughter. He knew Apollo would never lose interest (Olympian gods are very persistent), but his pursuit was against the wishes of Daphne. So Peneus transformed her into a laurel tree. Standing on the beach of the river, her feet transfigured into roots, her hair became leaves and her arms stretched and thinned into branches. A saddened Apollo approached the laurel tree, smoothing his hand on the hardened bark. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, he saw a laurel branch drop, full of flowers and lush, green leaves. He picked it up, wrapped it around his head as a wreath and said: “We will never be together, Daphne, but I will carry you with me in my heart and mind.” Sad, simple and sweet. There are some scholarly interpretations of this myth which badly miss the mark – I want to suggest that those be ignored. Ours is a repressed and patriarchal society which tells us we’re off on the wrong foot by pursuing romantic desires outside the prescribed norm, while it also sells cautionary tales of our failures back to us in the form of bad music, TV melodrama and Clive Owen movies. What’s closer to my point is: we should assume an innocence in the pursuit of love – both on the part of Daphne and of Apollo. Besides, isn’t it interesting to see how far in over his head Apollo is in this situation? In his faultless approach, he has left no space for Daphne to stand. For one thing, and at first sight, Apollo was instantly in love. This would be true of any Greek God, as it would be impossible for a person to see them in a state of transition. But beyond this, Apollo is the god of prophecy, so he could certainly see Daphne in his future. This alone would be overwhelming for Daphne. But another, perhaps more critical failure of Apollo in this situation is how clearly he is able, as I put it, “to sing the praises of her beauty.” Although everything Apollo says to Daphne is probably true, it does no good for Daphne to hear about her future since she has lived her entire life in the present moment. We can spend a moment wondering what Apollo would look like when Daphne first recognizes his approach. We know of instances in Greek Myth where an Olympian needs to put on a disguise just to make human/god interactions possible. There’s the famous case of Psyche and Eros, where Psyche was never allowed to see her husband; and then there’s the tragic case of Semele, the mortal mother of Dionysus, who was tricked by Hera into seeing the true form of Zeus. Based on the set-up for this story, it seems reasonable to assume that Apollo took no precautions to make a humble approach. In this circumstance, Apollo must have seemed to Daphne to be something of a holy terror. But even if this overstates it, Apollo probably seemed a little too full of himself. Whatever the reason was for his mistake, we should try to find a way to help Apollo out, because even he deserves a chance. So if we can agree that both Daphne and Apollo are faultless in their failed romance and no one is to blame for not working hard enough to achieve it, we can look for things to do differently– if not for their sake, then for ours in our own future pursuits. In my view, the main problem is the problem of availability. This is true on both sides. For Daphne, she is not giving Apollo an opportunity to reach her – if she runs away and pretends not to hear him, then she cannot be held accountable for her lack of a response. Likewise, if Apollo continues to talk even though “no one is listening,” it’s likely that the things he says are not said for the sake of the other person anyway. With or without a response, he will say what he believes she ought to want to hear. This detail is more than a hypothetical assumption on my part. Instead, it is the hallmark of a trait we should expect Apollo to posses: a constant and relentless expectation of idealism and perfection – both in who he sees in Daphne and what he expects Daphne to see in him. And to be frank: this is unfair, unrealistic, and conceited. It is amusing to think that this bowl-her-over pursuit is what Apollo considers conversation. Surely it’s a mistake for Apollo to not help bridge the gap between extraordinary and ordinary in this god/human interaction with Daphne. If there is a reason for this which doesn’t indicate a flaw in Apollo, it is due to a tremendous irony about the god of prophecy, medicine and music: as wise as Apollo is, he has no clue and will never understand himself. He cannot perceive himself in any way. This especially applies to a knowledge of how he is perceived by others. Perhaps it is helpful to realize this, as it is amusing to realize his pursuit of Daphne probably isn’t Apollo’s only “laurel tree” experience! So like I was saying: Apollo was fated to fail. But, if we are listening to this myth (and we live in ancient times), it means someone is telling it to us as an educational and entertaining story. This means they care about us and want us to become inspired to change our own approach. By the way: wouldn’t this be nice? And if you asked Apollo for guidance on this subject, I think he would impel you to learn a thing or two from Mick Jagger and The Rolling Stones. Because, in an important way, and as artistically demonstrated in the song “Sympathy for the Devil,” Mick Jagger’s persona is the opposite of Apollo. Please allow me to introduce myself I am a man of wealth and taste Dive in and listen to this song. In every word, Mick Jagger is conveying to his audience that he’s nothing but trouble. He’s saying there’s no way you aren’t completely terrified of him, and that he finds this amusing and coquettish. His audience, of course, is an attractive young woman. And of course he’s being arrogant. And the girl knows he really thinks something of himself. But here is where they have common ground, because she does, too. Pleased to meet you I hope you guess my name If he acts as though his intention is to scare her, hoping secretly that he won’t, then he will succeed either way. Because as he’s mocking her, he’s loosening her up by mocking himself. Again, they have common ground. Because, as the adage goes: a rabbit will run, but a lion will lay in the grass. By attempting to scare her off, perhaps he’s inviting her to try to stick it out. The music in this song really works to complete the narrative.