P.3. ADVENTURES of HEROES
P.3.1. The Boeotian War and the Exploits of Heracles
The city-state of Mycenae — founded by the golden hero Perseus just north of his native kingdom of Argos — was subsequently attacked by the kingdom of Taphos, resulting in the deaths of eight members of the royal family. The surviving princess, Alcmene, asked the hero Amphitryon, who was courting her, to defeat their sworn enemy, the kingdom of Taphos; Amphitryon brilliantly accomplished this feat and married her.
Heroic tales weave together reality and symbolism, offering a unique fascination distinct from that of pure mythology. Given the context of burial rites, Taphos likely represents a symbol of death rather than a historical kingdom. Indeed, many of the adversaries faced by the mighty hero Heracles are in some way connected to death.
However, Zeus — the amorous King of the Gods and wielder of the thunderbolt — appeared once again and fell in love with Princess Alcmene. When she rejected his advances, Zeus disguised himself as her husband, the hero Amphitryon, and fathered a child with her; ironically, he named the boy “Heracles” (meaning “Glory of Hera”) after his jealous queen, Hera.
In time, Queen Hera discovered that her husband Zeus had yet another illegitimate child; she was enraged by this revelation and even more incensed by the child’s ironic name. She then forced the premature birth of Heracles’ cousin, Eurystheus, ensuring that he — rather than Heracles — would succeed to the throne of Mycenae. Nevertheless, Amphitryon continued to love the unfortunate Princess Alcmene — who had been deceived by Zeus — and raised Heracles as his own son.
Subsequently, Heracles grew up in the wilderness, hidden from the jealous Hera — queen of the gods and goddess of marriage — and developed into a young man of extraordinary strength. Around this time, a war broke out in the Boeotia region of central-eastern Attica between the rising city-state of Thebes in the east and the traditional city-state of Orchomenus in the west; Amphitryon and Heracles, hailing from Mycenae, joined the conflict on the side of Thebes. Although his father Amphitryon fell in battle, the mighty Heracles played a pivotal role in securing victory for Thebes, and he subsequently married the Theban princess Megara.
However, these feats and his marriage drew the attention of Hera once more. Cursed by the jealous goddess, Heracles — Zeus’s illegitimate son — was driven to madness and killed Princess Megara and the young children he had fathered with her. Though he eventually regained his sanity, he was then tasked by his cousin Eurystheus, the King of Mycenae, with performing twelve labors of atonement, such as slaying monsters and retrieving treasures. The twelve labors are as follows: ① slaying the lion of the Nemean Valley, north of Mycenae; ② slaying the multi-headed water serpent Hydra in the Lernean Marsh, south of Argos; ③ capturing the golden-horned hind of the Ceryneian rocky heights, west of Argos; ④ capturing the rampaging boar of Mount Erymanthus in northwestern Arcadia; ⑤ driving away the man-eating birds of Lake Stymphalus in northeastern Arcadia; ⑥ cleaning the stables of King Augeas of Elis; ⑦ capturing the white bull of Crete in the southern Aegean Sea; ⑧ capturing the man-eating horses of Thrace on the northern Aegean coast; ⑨ seizing the “Belt of Ares” from Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, on the southeastern coast of the Black Sea; ⑩ seizing the red cattle of Geryon from the western Isle of Sunset; ⑪ seizing the golden apples from the Garden of the Hesperides (the Garden of Dusk) even further to the west; and ⑫ capturing Cerberus, the guardian dog of the Underworld.
The story of Heracles serves as the central axis connecting the various heroic tales and acts as a narrative thread linking them together; however, due to the sheer number of variant myths and foreshadowing elements, it is likely impossible to coherently interrelate all the heroic stories — or even to establish a consistent chronological sequence of events.
The lion of the Nemean Valley is identified with the constellation Leo, which shines in the southern sky during spring (specifically at 9:00 PM on April 1st) and features the “Royal Star” (Regulus). Heracles famously flayed this lion and wore its pelt as a garment. Meanwhile, the multi-headed water serpent Hydra of the Lernean Marsh corresponds to the elongated constellation Hydra lying beneath it, though the only clearly discernible feature is likely its heart — the red star known as Alphard (the “Solitary One”). It is rather troublesome that this constellation is casually translated into Japanese as “Sea Serpent” (*Umihebi-za*), a name that lacks precision.
The fourth constellation of the zodiac, Cancer (*Karkinos*), represents the giant crab monster sent by Hera — the queen of the gods and goddess of marriage, who detested Heracles — to attack him while he was slaying the multi-headed water serpent, Hydra, in the marshes of Lerna. The crab was immediately crushed underfoot and died an anticlimactic death; however, it was later transformed into a constellation out of pity. Although it sits between Leo and Gemini on spring nights, it is faint and likely difficult to spot. Its center contains the Praesepe star cluster (M44), comprising some seventy-five stars. In ancient Greece, this cluster was viewed as a passageway for souls traveling between the heavens and the earth, and in China, it was associated with the ghostly flames that appear over corpses; in India, however, it is revered as a sacred formation resembling the *manji* (swastika) symbol. Galileo Galilei (1564–1642), famous for championing the heliocentric theory, observed this cluster through his telescope in 1610; he was reportedly astonished to discover that it was not a single star, but a cluster of many stars.
Furthermore, Cerberus — the guardian dog of the underworld — once existed as a distinct constellation but has since been absorbed into the constellation Hercules. While Hercules is currently depicted grasping the multi-headed Hydra in his left hand, that specific area was originally the constellation Cerberus. Given that a separate constellation named Hydra already exists, it would arguably be better to restore the original designation of Cerberus.
P.3. 2. The Story of the Golden Fleece (Part 1): Jason and the Argonauts
King Athamas, ruler of the kingdom of Orchomenus in the region of Boeotia, was married to the cloud goddess Nephele; together, they had a son, Phrixus, and a daughter, Helle. However, following a defeat in the Boeotian War against the rising city-state of Thebes, Athamas remarried Ino — a Theban princess who had raised Dionysus and incurred the wrath of Hera, the queen of the gods and goddess of marriage — and banished his first queen, Nephele.
With the cloud goddess Nephele gone, the kingdom of Orchomenus was struck by drought and famine. Furthermore, the stepmother-queen Ino — having recently given birth to a son of her own, Melicertes — persuaded King Athamas to offer his stepchildren as a sacrifice to Demeter, the goddess of the harvest. Upon learning of this, Nephele placed her young children, Phrixus and Helle, upon the back of a winged ram with a golden fleece and whisked them away from Orchomenus.
To the southwest of the zenith in the winter sky — dominated by the constellation Perseus — lies the small constellation of Aries (the Golden Ram). Although not particularly large or prominent, in ancient Greece, the vernal equinox was located within this constellation; when the sun moved into alignment with it, spring began, marking the start of the new year. For this reason, Aries is considered the first sign of the zodiac (the sun’s path).
However, this alignment shifts gradually due to the “Platonic Year”; the Age of Pisces — the twelfth sign of the zodiac — has prevailed since around 100 BC, and the Age of Aquarius — the eleventh sign — is set to arrive around the year 2500. While Pisces is large yet dim and signifies a period of endurance and hidden depths in astrology, Aquarius is associated with Ganymede — a handsome young prince abducted from Troy by Zeus, the thunderbolt-wielding king of the gods, to serve as his cupbearer. Aquarius symbolizes a purification leading to abundance, and it is hoped that this era will give rise to a new form of universal love that transcends Christianity, a faith symbolized by the fish. The song “Aquarius,” which opens the anti-war musical *Hair* (premiered around 1970), is based on this very concept.
That said, in modern astrology, the “Tropical system” is more common than the “Sidereal system” (which remains faithful to the actual constellations). The Tropical system mechanically fixes the vernal equinox at 0 degrees of Aries and divides the zodiac into twelve equal signs of 30 degrees each. In other words, the actual constellation of Aries does not align with the astrological sign of Aries. While the preference for this method may have stemmed from a desire to avoid the hassle of constant recalculations, the fact that this simplified approach is accepted is perhaps precisely what characterizes astrology as a pseudoscience.
However, during the flight of the golden-fleeced ram, Princess Helle fell into the sea. From that time on, the body of water came to be known as the Sea of Helle (Hellespont; present-day Sea of Marmara). Meanwhile, Prince Phrixus safely reached the Kingdom of Colchis (in present-day Georgia) on the eastern shore of the Black Sea, where he was warmly welcomed by King Aeëtes. Prince Phrixus offered the golden-fleeced ram as a sacrifice to the gods and presented the “Golden Fleece” to King Aeëtes. This fleece — originally belonging to Nephele, the goddess of rain clouds — was a magical pelt capable of summoning rain at will, and it became a cherished heirloom of the Colchian royal family.
In 1818, a shirt shop named Brooks (now Brooks Brothers) opened at 346 Madison Avenue in New York and adopted this golden ram as its trademark. While their honestly crafted shirts were not exorbitantly expensive, they eventually attained such high status that they were dubbed the “uniform of the American gentleman”; notable figures such as F.D. Roosevelt, Fred Astaire, and Clark Gable favored the brand.
The Kingdom of Iolcos (located in present-day Volos, in the southwestern bay area of Thessaly, north of the Attica Peninsula) was ruled by King Aeson. However, having little interest in governance, he ceded the throne to his younger brother Pelias, with the understanding that he would hold it only until Aeson’s son, Jason, came of age. Yet, once on the throne, Pelias grew reluctant to relinquish power to his nephew. Seeking to eliminate Jason, he ordered him to retrieve the “Golden Fleece” from King Aeëtes of Colchis. He chose this task because the king’s daughter, Medea — a granddaughter of the Titan Helios (charioteer of the sun god Apollo) and a student of sorcery under her aunt Circe on the island of Aeaea — guarded the fleece; it was deemed virtually impossible for anyone to wrest it away from her.
The region of Georgia remains a thriving center for the production of fine wool today. In particular, the *burka* — a unique, envelope-style wool cloak worn by shepherds in the area — is renowned for its exceptional warmth. This region was also known for its formidable women — much like the “Amazon tribe” said to inhabit the lands just to the south.
Driven primarily by a fascination with adventure, Jason accepted the mission. He commissioned the shipwright Argos to build the state-of-the-art vessel *Argo* and recruited numerous warriors from across the Greek city-states. Prince Jason then set sail alongside a band of forty heroes known as the “Argonauts.” Among them was Orpheus — a musical poet from Thrace on the northern Aegean coast, said to be the son of the sun god Apollo. During the voyage, he played music even more beautiful than that of the Sirens — sea spirits who lured warriors with their enchanting voices — thereby helping the crew resist their seductive call.
In the night sky, the *Argo* is represented by four constellations situated above the southern horizon during spring, a season marked by the brilliance of Regulus (the “King Star”) in the constellation Leo. While one can spot Vela (the Sails) directly south, Puppis (the Stern) to its west, and Pyxis (the Compass) between them, the ship’s massive hull — represented by the constellation Carina (the Keel) — remains below the horizon when viewed from Japan.
While the Sirens in the later tale of Odysseus were depicted as sea-bird-like creatures haunting dangerous reefs, in this context, they likely represent the prostitutes who loitered in the port towns along the route; they ensnared men in a haze of alcohol and sexual indulgence, causing them to forget the very purpose of their quest. Orpheus would later come to be regarded as a deity associated with erotophobia (fear of sex) and gynophobia (fear of women).
P.3.3. The Story of the Golden Fleece (Part 2): Medea, the Sorceress Princess
After numerous adventures, Prince Jason finally arrived in the Kingdom of Colchis and immediately attempted to seize the Golden Fleece; however, he failed and was taken prisoner instead. Yet, Medea — the sorceress princess of Colchis — fell in love with Prince Jason; she stole the Golden Fleece, rescued the prince, and fled the kingdom with him aboard the *Argo*.
Thus, Prince Jason returned with Medea to the Kingdom of Iolcos — located in the southwestern bay of the Thessaly region, north of the Attica Peninsula — but his uncle, King Pelias, still refused to abdicate the throne in his favor. Medea then used her sorcery to boil King Pelias to death; however, the citizens loathed her and refused to acknowledge Jason’s accession to the throne. Consequently, the couple was forced into exile at the court of King Creon in the city-kingdom of Corinth, situated on the western side of the Isthmus of Corinth near the Peloponnese.
Although Jason and Medea already had two children together, King Creon of Corinth aggressively sought to arrange a marriage between Jason and his own daughter, Glauce. Eventually, even Jason began to treat Medea with coldness and disdain.
At this juncture, Medea declared that she was prepared to step aside, and she presented Princess Glauce with a radiant diadem and a robe as wedding gifts. However, the moment Princess Glauce put them on, the diadem spewed fire and the robe constricted her flesh; she — along with King Creon, who tried to save her — was engulfed in flames and burned to death. The sorceress-princess Medea then killed her own two children, fled to the city-state of Athens, and successfully became the wife of King Aegeus.
Medea was originally an ancient, indigenous sun goddess of Corinth, but in Greek mythology, she was transformed into a sorceress. This episode in the myth likely reflects the historical displacement of that goddess. In Corinth, next to the museum, stands the “Fountain of Glauce.” It is said that Princess Glauce, set ablaze by Medea’s curse, plunged into these waters in her final moments.
This story was adapted by Euripides into the musical drama *Medea* (431 BC). Although the work was initially reviled by the upper classes due to the protagonist’s intense personality and the harrowing scenes of vengeance, its universal themes and dramatic narrative — driven by raw passion — exerted a profound and lasting influence on theater and the arts.
For instance, during the era of the French Revolution, the Italian composer Cherubini (1760–1842) used this subject to create *Médée* (1797) — a work featuring grand orchestration and elaborate staging — thereby pioneering the form of grand opera.
P.3.4. The Monstrous Minotaur and Theseus, the Youth with the Sword and Sandals
Minos, the King of Knossos on Crete — born of Zeus and the Phoenician princess Europa — lived a peaceful life with his queen, Pasiphae (daughter of the Titan Helios, the sun-charioteer of Apollo), and their children: Prince Androgeos and Princesses Ariadne and Phaedra. However, tragedy struck when Prince Androgeos was killed by unknown assailants near Athens while traveling; this incident sparked a war between King Aegeus of Athens and King Minos of Knossos. Meanwhile, Queen Pasiphae, driven mad by grief over her son’s sudden death, foolishly vied with Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, in a contest of beauty. Angered by this, Aphrodite cursed her, causing her to fall madly in love with the giant white bull — the very same beast that had once abducted Princess Europa from Phoenicia.
This “Athenian-Cretan War” can be understood, much like the “Boeotian War,” as a conflict between the indigenous Minoan civilization of Crete and the invading Mycenaean civilization. Furthermore, the capture of this giant white bull from Crete would later become the seventh labor of atonement for Heracles.
It was during this time that Daedalus, a master craftsman who had fled the hostile kingdom of Athens after killing his talented nephew out of jealousy, arrived in the kingdom of Knossos. Consumed by her unnatural lust for the white bull, Pasiphae ordered Daedalus to construct a hollow wooden cow; she climbed inside it to mate with the bull, eventually giving birth to the Minotaur — a monstrous creature that was half-man and half-bull. Shocked by this, King Minos ordered the craftsman Daedalus to construct a labyrinthine prison; he then confined Pasiphae, the Minotaur, and Daedalus himself — along with his son Icarus — within it.
Seeking a way to escape this labyrinth, Daedalus and Icarus fashioned artificial wings. They successfully took flight, but Icarus, emboldened by the experience, flew too close to the sun; the wax holding his wings together melted, causing him to plummet into the sea. Only his father, Daedalus, managed to reach the distant island of Sicily, off the western coast of the Italian peninsula. The sea into which Icarus fell subsequently became known as the Icarian Sea.
Meanwhile, the defeated city-state of Athens was forced to send seven youths and seven maidens each year as sacrifices to the monstrous Minotaur in the victorious city-state of Knossos. It was at this juncture that the young hero Theseus — renowned for his exploits — returned from the *Argo* expedition. Upon hearing of this cruel tribute, he prayed to the sun god Apollo and volunteered to join the group of sacrifices, entering Knossos. There, Princess Ariadne fell in love with Theseus; to aid him, she gave him a special spool of thread — a device originally crafted by Daedalus. Using this thread to navigate without getting lost, Theseus located the Minotaur’s lair within the labyrinth and slew the beast with a single blow. Afterward, Theseus — the young hero of the sword and sandals — fled the Kingdom of Knossos on Crete, taking with him Princess Ariadne, her younger sister Princess Phaedra, and the youths of Athens who had been marked for sacrifice. In gratitude to the sun god Apollo for Theseus’s success in slaying the monstrous Minotaur and rescuing the youths, the city of Athens built a temple on the island of Delos — Apollo’s birthplace — located in the center of the Cyclades. From then on, they sent envoys to Delos every year in late spring to celebrate the festival on a grand scale.
Delos is actually a twin-island formation consisting of two islands, one large and one small. The Temple of Apollo stands on the western coast of the smaller eastern island — Little Delos — which measures less than two kilometers across.
Meanwhile, on the journey home, Theseus married the younger sister, Phaedra, and abandoned the elder sister, Ariadne, on the island of Naxos. However, Dionysus — the god of ecstasy — happened to stop at Naxos, where he rescued Ariadne and made her his wife.
Dionysus gave Ariadne a crown studded with jewels. This became the constellation Corona Borealis (the Northern Crown), which shines faintly and small high in the southern sky during summer. It bears the name “Northern Crown” despite its position in the southern sky because there is another, fainter constellation — Corona Australis (the Southern Crown) — located even further south, near the eastern horizon behind Sagittarius; however, the latter is virtually impossible to see. *Ariadne auf Naxos* (1916) — a modern opera composed by Richard Strauss (1864–1949; aged 52), then conductor at the Munich Court Opera, based on a play by the *fin-de-siècle* Viennese dramatist Hugo von Hofmannsthal (1874–1929; aged 42) — is a peculiar one-act work featuring an exceptionally long prologue.
The prologue is set in the home of a wealthy Viennese magnate during the reign of Empress Maria Theresa. Composers, choreographers, singers, and actors are in a frenzy preparing for the evening’s entertainment — an opera and a comedy — when the opera singers and the comic actors begin to clash and quarrel. Matters worsen when the wealthy host issues an outrageous directive: the opera and the comedy are to be performed simultaneously as the night’s entertainment. Chaos ensues backstage as the *prima donna* and the tenor argue over whose music should be cut, the timid composer falls into despair, and the comic actress Zerbinetta talks him around.
Yet, the curtain rises regardless. The *prima donna*, singing the role of Ariadne, pours out her lament over her wretched fate of being abandoned on the island of Naxos. The comic actors sing and dance in an attempt to cheer her up, but ultimately, the comic actress Zerbinetta steals the show, performing the aria “Großmächtige Prinzessin” (Great Princess) with a display of coloratura soprano virtuosity that surpasses even that of the *prima donna*. Captivated by the song, the other comic actors completely ignore the prima donna and begin vying for Zerbinetta; meanwhile, an operatic tenor playing Bacchus (Dionysus) appears, spontaneously sings a love duet with the prima donna, and the piece concludes happily for everyone.
P.3.5. The Descent into the Underworld of Orpheus, the Poet-Musician
After returning from the adventures of the *Argo*, the poet-musician Orpheus married the beautiful Eurydice. However, even after their marriage, she was relentlessly pursued by the shepherd Aristaeus; while fleeing from him, she was bitten by a venomous snake and died. Overcome with profound grief, Orpheus resolved to retrieve his beloved wife, Eurydice, from Tartarus, the underworld.
Yet, it was no simple matter for Orpheus, a living man, to enter Tartarus, the realm of the dead. Standing in his way was the vast River Acheron, which separated the world of the living from the underworld of the dead. There, he encountered Charon, the greedy ferryman, who demanded treasure in exchange for passage; Orpheus possessed no such riches. He did, however, have his song. As he sang poignantly of the beauty of his wife’s love, even the avaricious Charon found his heart cleansed and willingly ferried him across the river.
It seems that in cultures everywhere, a great river is envisioned as lying between the world of the living and the world of the dead. However, this does not constitute proof of an “afterlife.” After all, the accounts given by those who claim to have “died and returned to life” describe not the afterlife itself, but at most a “near-death realm.” It appears that when human consciousness becomes clouded or diminished, people may perceive things like fields of flowers, great rivers, or tunnels of light — phenomena that can be easily triggered by electric shocks, drugs, or physiological trauma such as malnutrition or oxygen toxicity. The flamboyant and lurid “psychedelic culture” of the late 1960s — rooted in the concept of the “psychic” (or psychological) — was, in fact, a consequence of the widespread drug use of that era.
In the past, many people sensed something mystical in such perceptions and sought to experience them — even at the cost of self-destruction in the name of “spiritual discipline.” Yet, such an endeavor is as foolish as trying to modify a computer by randomly banging on it, dropping it, or subjecting it to an electrical surge; unless by some sheer stroke of luck, one simply ends up deranged. Ultimately, these perceptions stem from the physical constitution (the “hardware”) of the human body; they are merely a malfunction of consciousness, entirely unrelated to concepts like the afterlife, enlightenment, or reincarnation. That said, in a world as mad as ours, perhaps being a little unhinged is actually what allows one to regain a sense of calm.
However, on the opposite bank stood Cerberus, the guardian hound of the underworld. With three heads and red eyes, the beast breathed flames from its three mouths, barring Orpheus’s path. Cerberus declared, “If a living soul wishes to pass, he must defeat me by force” — yet Orpheus possessed no such might. What he did possess, however, was his song. As the musical poet Orpheus sang a heart-rending lament for his wife, even the fierce Cerberus was moved to tears and willingly let him pass.
Get Teruaki Georges SUMIOKA, Ph.D.’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
At last, he reached the palace of Hades, King of the Underworld, and Hecate (also known as Persephone, Goddess of Plants and Flowers), Queen of the Underworld. Hades argued, “To return the dead would defy the natural order.” Yet, Orpheus had his song. As he sang a poignant melody celebrating the beloved image of his wife, Hecate — the Queen — came to understand his plight and willingly interceded with her husband, Hades, on his behalf. Reluctantly, Hades, King of the Underworld, granted permission for her return but imposed a single final condition: Orpheus must not look back at his wife until they had fully emerged from Tartarus.
With his keen hearing, Orpheus made his way toward the surface, step by step, confirming the footsteps of his wife, Eurydice, following behind him. Yet, doubts began to mount; he yearned to see her face, but feared that the figure behind him might be some monstrous apparition instead. Then, as they crossed the river on the ferry — where the sound of footsteps could no longer be heard — and were mere moments away from reaching the opposite bank and the world of the living, Orpheus could bear the suspense no longer and turned to look at Eurydice. To his horror, he saw not his wife, but a ghastly, putrefying corpse. Trembling with terror, he leapt from the boat, shoved the vessel bearing the corpse back toward the Underworld, and fled toward the surface as fast as his legs could carry him.
A similar motif appears in the Japanese *Kojiki*. Izanagi and Izanami descended from the High Plain of Heaven to create the islands and gods of Japan; however, because they gave birth to the god of fire, Izanami perished from the ordeal. Izanagi then descended to the Land of Yomi in an attempt to rescue her, but, shocked by her defiled and hideous appearance, he fled and sealed the boundary — the Yomotsu-hira Slope — with a massive boulder known as the “Chibiki-no-Ishi.” Enraged, Izanami cursed from the other side of the boulder, declaring, “I shall drag a thousand people from your land into mine every day.” Izanagi countered from his side, “Then I shall bring forth fifteen hundred new lives each day.” Thus, Izanagi and Izanami parted ways, and Japan was meant to be severed from the defiled Land of Yomi. However, when Izanagi purified himself of Yomi’s defilement at Awagihara in Hyuga, Tsukushi, various deities — including Amaterasu Omikami — emerged, and Susanoo was born from his nose. Yet, Susanoo had unwittingly inherited the defilement of his mother’s realm, Yomi… In this way, the fundamental Shinto concepts of *imi-kegare* (ritual impurity and defilement) and *harae-kiyome* (purification) stem from this very conflict and separation between Izanagi and the Izanami of Yomi; unlike ordinary dirt or grime, this form of defilement is something that spreads like a contagion.
Yet, even as he fled, he realized upon reflection that the figure he had seen was undoubtedly his wife, Eurydice. Orpheus was soon consumed by bitter regret over his cold-hearted action. Ultimately, he resolved to turn back and bring his wife home after all. However, the greedy ferryman Charon would no longer transport him to the Underworld. On the far shore, Cerberus, the guardian hound of the Underworld, flew into a rage, spewing flames from his three mouths as he sought to drive Orpheus back to the surface. Overcome with grief, the musical poet Orpheus was left with no choice but to return to the world above.
The story told in this passage is a perfect subject for opera — fitting indeed for Orpheus, the god of music. In fact, Monteverdi (1567–1643) — the greatest composer of the early Baroque era — established the form known as “opera” with his work *L’Orfeo* (1607). Later, however, the Austrian composer Gluck (1714–1787) — who had once taught Marie Antoinette — created his own version of the same subject, *Orfeo ed Euridice* (1762), thereby carrying out a groundbreaking “opera revolution” that prioritized drama over the singers. The ending, too, differed radically from both the original myth and Monteverdi’s interpretation: a *deus ex machina* (a device used to force a resolution, not necessarily involving actual machinery) in the style of Greek musical drama would appear abruptly, declare that “your love has been proven,” and resurrect his wife, Eurydice; the work would then conclude with everyone singing a grand hymn to love.
P.3.6. The Frenzied Revelry of Dionysus and the Maenads
Dionysus (also known as Bacchus) — the god of ecstasy — was the son of Zeus, the King of Gods and wielder of the thunderbolt, and Semele, a princess of Thebes. To escape the jealousy of Hera, the Queen of Gods and goddess of marriage, he was raised by Silenus — one of the goat-footed nature spirits (often associated with Pan, the god of shepherds). Depicted with the horns of a bull, Dionysus spread the arts of viticulture and winemaking. Attended by the “Satyrs” — lewd, vulgar creatures with the ears and tails of horses — he became an object of worship for the women of Hellas, whose lives were otherwise heavily constrained by social norms. He was revered as the god of wine, music, and dance, offering liberation from the stifling confines of mortal existence and leading his followers into a state of divine freedom. These female devotees, known as “Maenads,” would secretly slip out of the city at night to gather in the mountains on the outskirts, where they engaged in wild, ecstatic revelry — drinking, music, and dancing — in honor of Dionysus.
The story of Dionysus follows the classic “exiled noble” archetype: born as a mortal in Hellas but raised as a god in the Orient. In the East, he corresponds to the consort of the Great Earth Mother Gaia — a deity embodying the spirit of vegetation. It is perhaps only natural, then, that this male deity became the central figure of a movement dominated by women.
At this time, however, the Kingdom of Thebes was ruled by Pentheus, the son of Semele’s sister Agave. Pentheus refused to acknowledge his cousin Dionysus as a god and plotted to banish the Maenads who worshipped him. Yet, driven by curiosity, King Pentheus decided to hide in the thicket to observe the nature of their revelry firsthand. As night fell and the Maenads began to gather, he was shocked to discover his own mother, Queen Agave, among them. They, too, soon noticed someone lurking in the thicket; they dragged out King Pentheus — who had been hiding there — and, in the ecstatic frenzy of their revelry, tore him limb from limb.
Meanwhile, the musician-poet Orpheus — having failed to rescue his beloved wife from the Underworld — was consumed by regret and despair, eventually coming to believe in the existence of an immortal soul distinct from the physical body. He came to hold the view that the body (*sōma*) is merely a tomb (*sēma*), and that humans must seek liberation from the flesh to realize their nature as immortal souls. Consequently, he worshipped the sun god Apollo — regarded as his father — viewing the sun, which returns from winter to summer and ascends from earth to heaven, as the true embodiment of the human immortal soul.
It was likely upon seeing the once-beautiful wife he loved reduced to a hideous, decaying corpse that Orpheus fell prey to *erotophobia* (fear of sex) and *somatophobia* (fear of the body), driving him toward this philosophy of pure spiritualism.
However, this stance provoked the hostility of the Maenads, the worshippers of Dionysus; for the sun god Apollo represents clarity and reason, standing in opposition to the ecstatic frenzy they embraced. As a result, Orpheus, too, was torn apart and killed by them. His severed head and lyre washed ashore on the island of Lesbos, off the northern coast of Asia Minor, where the islanders gave them a respectful burial. His soul was transformed by Apollo into the stars of the constellation Lyra; surrounding it, twelve animals — captivated by his music — gathered to form the “Zodiac” (or “Circle of Animals”) in the heavens.
While both involve beliefs in death and rebirth, the world hosts religions derived from plant deities and those derived from sun deities. This dynamic can be understood through the lens of the conflict between the rational Orphic mysteries and the ecstatic Dionysian mysteries in Thebes — a struggle that stands in contrast to the conquest of Gaia’s hidden vulva (Delphos) by the sun god Apollo on the island of Delos (meaning “manifest” or “clear”).
Orpheus’s lyre is represented in the sky by the small constellation Lyra, which includes Vega — the brightest star shining high in the northeastern sky during summer. However, the instrument he actually played was likely not the magnificent lyre often depicted on star charts, but rather a simple L-shaped harp.
The “Zodiac” (literally the “circle of animals”) refers to the constellations that align with the sun’s apparent path; they are the constellations on the celestial sphere positioned opposite the Earth, with the sun acting as the pivot point. These are: (1) Aries, (2) Taurus, (3) Gemini, (4) Cancer, (5) Leo, (6) Virgo, (7) Libra, (8) Scorpio, (9) Sagittarius, (10) Capricorn, (11) Aquarius, and (12) Pisces — though not all of them represent animals. Having already explained (1) Aries, (2) Taurus, (3) Gemini, (4) Cancer, (5) Leo, (8) Scorpio, (11) Aquarius, and (12) Pisces, let us briefly introduce the remaining ones.
The sixth constellation, Virgo, is associated with Astraea — the goddess of the starry sky and daughter of Zeus (King of the Gods and wielder of the thunderbolt) and Themis (Goddess of Justice). This association likely stems from the image of its central, pure silvery star, Spica. Shining in the southern sky during breaks in the rainy season, this star is also known in Japan as the “Pearl Star.” This constellation also harbors M87, a terrifying, supermassive black hole capable of swallowing even light; its mass is said to be a staggering 2.6 billion times that of the Sun. It is truly symbolic that the constellation Virgo encompasses both the pure star Spica and such a fearsome black hole.
The seventh constellation, Libra (the Scales), bears this name because the autumnal equinox was once located there. Originally, however, this area formed the claws of the vast constellation Scorpius.
The ninth constellation, Sagittarius (the Archer), represents Chiron — the wise chieftain of the wild, half-human, half-horse Centaur tribe from Thessaly in northern Attica. It is known as “Nandou Liuxing” (the Six Stars of the Southern Dipper) in China and the “Milk Dipper” in the West. Regarding the Centaurs, there is a separate constellation named Centaurus located beyond Scorpius; it is depicted in the act of spearing the constellation Lupus (the Wolf).
The tenth constellation, Capricornus (the Goat), is said to have been likened to a mountain-climbing goat because the winter solstice once occurred there. However, given that its lower half is invariably depicted as a fish, it may not have been a goat at all, but rather a species of large fish unknown to the ancient Greeks.
Astrology features the “twelve signs of the zodiac,” which are based on the “zodiac belt” (or “circle of animals”). As previously mentioned, however, under the common “Tropical system,” these signs are created by mechanically dividing the ecliptic into twelve equal parts starting from the vernal equinox — meaning they have drifted completely out of alignment with the actual constellations. Their respective meanings are: (1) Aries (pioneering), (2) Taurus (harvest), (3) Gemini (communication), (4) Cancer (defense), (5) Leo (power), (6) Virgo (purity), (7) Libra (harmony), (8) Scorpio (immortality), (9) Sagittarius (freedom), (10) Capricorn (prudence), (11) Aquarius (wisdom), and (12) Pisces (patience).
In astrology, the meaning of a configuration is interpreted based on the “planets” (including the Sun and Moon), the “signs of the zodiac,” and the “houses.” The “houses” are determined by taking the meridian transit (MC) at a specific time as the starting point (cusp) of the 10th House and dividing the entire circle into twelve segments — often using methods such as the Placidus system — whereby planets appear above the horizon sequentially, starting from the 1st House.
Incidentally, the meanings of the respective houses are as follows: the 1st House represents the self; the 2nd, possessions; the 3rd, knowledge; the 4th, home/family; the 5th, leisure; and the 6th, health; these constitute the houses related to the individual’s essential nature. In contrast, the remaining six houses — which pair with the first six — are considered “environmental” houses: the 7th House represents marriage; the 8th, benefits/legacies; the 9th, the spirit/mind; the 10th, career/work; the 11th, friendships; and the 12th, obstacles.
P.3.7. The Return of Theseus to the Kingdom of Athens
Having married Phaedra — the younger sister of Ariadne — Theseus, in a moment of inexplicable folly, resolved to take yet another daughter of Zeus as his wife. He abducted Helen, a maiden of peerless beauty born to Zeus and Leda (Queen of Sparta), though she was soon rescued by her brothers, the mighty twin princes Castor and Polydeuces.
Undeterred, Theseus then ventured into the Underworld, intent on abducting Persephone — a daughter of Zeus who had become the consort of the god of the dead. However, the tables were turned, and Theseus himself was captured and imprisoned there. Yet, it so happened that Heracles — his former companion from the *Argo* — had also arrived in the Underworld to capture Cerberus, the guardian hound, as part of his twelfth and final labor of atonement. Thus, Heracles rescued Theseus from his captivity.
Subsequently, following the path of Heracles’s labors, Theseus set out with a large force to the land of the Amazons — a tribe of female warriors on the southeastern coast of the Black Sea — to seize the “Belt of Ares” for Heracles’s ninth labor. Although the Amazons were fierce and proved difficult to conquer by force, their queen, Hippolyta, fell in love with Theseus. Consequently, Theseus obtained the Belt of Ares from Hippolyta to present to Heracles, and brought Queen Hippolyta back with him to his homeland, the Kingdom of Athens, where his wife Phaedra awaited him.
The Amazons were renowned for their equestrian skills; it is said that they would remove their right breasts to facilitate shooting arrows while on horseback. The region in question remains an area where men frequently leave home for seasonal work, and the existence of an all-female tribe like the Amazons may well have been a consequence of such migratory labor practices.
Meanwhile, in the city-state of Athens, the sorceress Medea — having parted ways with King Jason of Iolcos — had become the consort of the elderly King Aegeus and was ruling through dark sorcery. Medea realized that Theseus — the young hero known for his distinctive sword and sandals — was actually King Aegeus’s son. Since she had already borne a son of her own with the aging king, named Medus, she sought to deceive Aegeus into killing Theseus.
She persuaded King Aegeus that if Theseus — famed for slaying the Minotaur, venturing into Tartarus, and campaigning against the Amazons — were to visit Athens, the king should invite him to the palace for a celebratory banquet and poison him. However, just as Theseus was about to drain the poisoned cup, King Aegeus recognized his son by the sword and sandals he carried. Joining forces with Theseus, the king instead banished Medea and her son Medus to the east. Thus, Theseus was formally recognized as the prince of the Kingdom of Athens; however, his joy was short-lived. The Amazons, determined to reclaim their Queen Hippolyta by force, marched overland all the way to invade Athens. Amidst this conflict, Hippolyta gave birth to a son, Hippolytus, but she was accidentally struck by an arrow and killed during the “Amazon War.”
Years later, when Hippolytus had grown into a young man, his stepmother Phaedra — perhaps under the curse of the sorceress Medea — fell in love with him. When Hippolytus rejected her advances, she falsely accused him of assaulting her; this led Theseus to kill his own son, after which Phaedra committed suicide.
This story was adapted into a play titled *Hippolytus* (428 BC) by Euripides — one of the three great masters of Greek tragedy — and met with great acclaim. Later, the French classical tragedian Racine (1639–1699) produced what he considered his masterpiece, *Phèdre* (Phaedra, 1677), while at the height of his career. However, due to sabotage by his rivals — including the Duchess of Bouillon — the production was a disastrous failure (an event known as the “Phèdre Conspiracy”), and a disillusioned Racine subsequently retired from the theater.
Following these events, Theseus underwent a profound change of heart. After the death of his father, the aged King Aegeus, he became a noble and capable ruler of the Kingdom of Athens. However, in his later years, King Theseus was deposed by Menestheus — a member of the House of Erechtheus, the royal line that had preceded that of Aegeus — and went into exile in the kingdom of Skyros, located off the eastern coast of the Attica peninsula. There, he met his end after being pushed off a cliff.
P.3.8. The Gigantomachy at Phlegra
Meanwhile, Heracles set out for Erytheia — the “Island of the Sunset” in the west — to seize the red cattle of Geryon. However, there were complex circumstances behind this task. Gaia, the Great Earth Mother, harbored deep resentment; although she had sided with the Olympian gods during the Titanomachy, the sun god Apollo had subsequently usurped her sacred site at Delphi and treated her with disregard. In retaliation, she gave birth to a new race of Giants — beings that were half-dragon, half-human, with multiple heads and arms — and instigated the “Gigantomachy” (War of the Giants) at Phlegra (“The Burning Fields”) after seizing the red cattle from the Island of the Sunset.
The “Island of the Sunset” refers to Sicily, where the sun sets into the western sea. The Hellenes attempted to colonize this region, leading to a struggle for control over the volcanic Campanian Plain (the area of modern-day Naples). The “red cattle” likely symbolize the clouds of the sunset, while the Giants born of the earth represent the region’s volcanoes themselves, spewing lava flows that resemble dragon-like legs.
Geryon, too, was a Giant — possessing three heads and six arms. Clad in thick, heavy armor and coursing with hot blood, he would spread his wings and attack by hurling massive boulders. The Olympian gods fought desperately against the Giants with their full might, but the enemy kept rising endlessly from the earth, making the situation hopeless. Finally, the ultimate monster, Typhon — a creature so vast he reached the heavens — appeared; his flames caused the earth to blaze and the seas to boil. Terrified by this spectacle, the gods fled all the way to Egypt. However, only one figure — Zeus, the King of Gods and wielder of the thunderbolt — stood his ground against the beast; he relentlessly hurled lightning at its hundred heads until, at last, he managed to defeat it.
Geryon is associated with Mount Vesuvius in Naples, while Typhon is linked to Mount Etna in Sicily; indeed, massive volcanic eruptions are often accompanied by violent lightning storms in the sky above.
Heracles realized that the Giants were immortal within the “Burning Fields,” so, acting on the advice of Athena — the goddess of war — he lured Geryon outside the area and clubbed him to death. He then reclaimed the red cattle that had originally belonged to Apollo and set off further west toward the Garden of the Hesperides (the Garden of Twilight).
However, the “Golden Apples” (perhaps symbolizing the setting sun?) were a wedding gift from Gaia, the Great Earth Mother, to Zeus and Hera. To prevent Zeus from recklessly distributing them to other women, Hera had entrusted them to Atlas, whose daughters guarded them in the Garden of Twilight. Consequently, although Heracles even split the massive rock formation that blocked the Strait of Gibraltar, he struggled to locate the garden.
The massive rock that Heracles split in two — creating the formations on the African and European sides — came to be known as the “Pillars of Hercules.”
Heracles therefore decided to ask Atlas — who had concealed the garden — directly. When he explained that he needed the Golden Apples for atonement, Atlas offered to retrieve them on the condition that Heracles take over his heavy burden of supporting the heavens. Heracles agreed to the arrangement; however, once Atlas handed over the apples, Heracles took advantage of the fact that Atlas was immobilized by the burden of the heavens and simply ran away. Furthermore, Atlas was left to prop up the two massive stone pillars on either side of the Strait of Gibraltar — which Heracles had split apart — to prevent them from collapsing and to safeguard the Mediterranean Sea’s connection to the Atlantic.
And so, the “Pillars of Heracles” came to be known as the “Pillars of Atlas.”
P.3.9. The Tragic End of the Mighty Hero Heracles
Having fulfilled all his acts of atonement, Heracles returned to the city-kingdom of Mycenae in the eastern Peloponnese and finally regained his freedom. He then defeated King Eurytus of Oechalia in an archery contest and sought to marry the king’s daughter, Iole. However, when King Eurytus failed to honor his promise, Heracles was seized by a fit of madness once more; he killed the princes of Oechalia and fled to the Kingdom of Lydia in western Asia Minor.
The Kingdom of Oechalia was not a real place; it was the realm of the departed — the land of dead heroes. The name “Eurytus” itself — derived simply from *eu* (good) and *ryter* (shooter) — lacked any historical substance. In essence, the mighty hero Heracles had competed in archery against a legendary marksman who was already dead. Killing the princes, therefore, signified the defeat of disciples who claimed authority through those deceased heroes.
After some time, Heracles regained his sanity and returned to Hellas, where he took Deianira — princess of the city-kingdom of Calydon (located in what is now the outskirts of Missolonghi) — as his wife. Later, while the couple was traveling together, Nessus — a savage centaur, half-man and half-horse — attempted to abduct Deianira; Heracles killed him with an arrow coated in the venom of the multi-headed water serpent, the Hydra. However, as he lay dying, Nessus told Deianira to save his blood and use it should Heracles’s love for her ever cool.
Later, Heracles visited the Kingdom of Oechalia to exact revenge on King Eurytus — who had once broken a promise to him — and seized the princess Iole, whom he had long desired. Upon learning this, his wife Deianira grew jealous of Iole; recalling the words of the dead centaur Nessus, she smeared his blood onto Heracles’s undergarment and had him wear it upon his return. The Hydra poison — which had coated the very arrow Heracles once used to kill Nessus — seeped into his body, causing him to swell all over and writhe in agony. Stricken with shock and remorse at what she had done, Deianira took her own life.
Resigned to his impending death, the mighty hero Heracles resolved to end his life by immolation on Mount Oeta. Yet, the intensity of his suffering left him unable to light the funeral pyre himself. He asked a passing traveler named Philoctetes to set the fire, rewarding him with his great bow. As the flames rose, Heracles was miraculously rejuvenated; he ascended to the heavens, where he was welcomed as a god among the Olympians by his father, Zeus — the King of the Gods and wielder of the thunderbolt. He even won the forgiveness of Zeus’s jealous wife, Hera — the Queen of the Gods and goddess of marriage — and took Hebe, the daughter of Zeus and Hera and the goddess who served nectar to the gods, as his wife.
While the constellation Hercules occupies the zenith in summer — counterbalancing Perseus, which sits at the zenith in winter — it consists only of stars of the third magnitude or fainter, making it rather difficult to discern.
Having thus married off Hebe, the goddess who served the wine, Zeus instead used an eagle to abduct the beautiful young prince Ganymede from the Kingdom of Troy (located on the northern coast of western Asia Minor) to serve as the “water-bearer” (waiter) at the divine banquet table. This figure is the aforementioned eleventh sign of the zodiac, Aquarius (the “Water-Bearer”). One wonders, however, how such an odd translation as *Mizugame-za* (“Water-Jar Constellation”) came to be adopted in Japanese.
Incidentally, in English, the term “Waterman” carries a wide variety of meanings beyond the beautiful prince Ganymede; it can refer to a boatman, a merman, or a worker responsible for water supply or drainage. “Waterman” is also famous as the name of a manufacturer of high-end fountain pens. This brand has no direct connection to the beautiful prince Ganymede; rather, it originated in 1884 when a New York insurance agent — a man named Lewis Hudson Waterman (born 1837; aged 47 at the time), whose surname was remarkably fitting for the product — commissioned the manufacture of the world’s first two hundred fountain pens.
