by Stephen Fry
Bear with me. A blizzard of geography and genealogy has already blanketed these pages, but – as ever with Greek myth – there are some essential strands in the tapestry, if you’ll forgive the change of metaphor, that must be picked out in bright colours if we are to follow the lines of the story clearly. It is not necessary to know the location of every city state in the Peloponnese, mainland Greece and the Troad, nor every cousin and aunt in the great families that ruled there and which were to play prominent parts in the drama to come, but some are very much worth our time and trouble. The royal house of Troy, Priam and Hecuba and their children, for example. Telamon and Peleus, and their offspring, are important too. And so is the house of Tantalus, which, down through Pelops to his sons and their sons, casts a shadow over the whole history of the Trojan War and its aftermath. The curse on Tantalus was doubled with each succeeding generation, a cascade of curses whose force propels us to the end of everything.
So, pausing for breath, we find ourselves in the Peloponnese again. Laius has abducted Chrysippus. Pelops curses him and sends his two legitimate sons, Atreus and Thyestes, to rescue their half-brother Chrysippus. Instead they kill him.fn36 Whether out of jealousy, as Peleus and Telamon had done with their brother Phocus, or out of some other motive, is not quite clear.
You will know well by now that, when a blood crime has been committed, only an immortal, a priest or an anointed king may cleanse it. Kings Eurytion and Acastus had done this for Peleus, King Cychreus for Telamon. In earlier times, after Bellerophon accidentally killed his brother, it was King Proetus of Mycenae who had performed the necessary purification.fn37 And it was to Mycenae that Atreus and Thyestes fled in search of expiation when Pelops expelled them from Elis for their fratricide.
What happened next to Atreus and Thyestes is so complicated and insane that I cannot in all conscience submit you to every detail. If I piece together a paragraph that attempts to explain it, we will emerge with three names of importance to the furtherance of our tale.
The brothers Atreus and Thyestes settled in Mycenae, deposed the king there (Eurystheus, the despot who had set Heracles his Twelve Labours), and then set about betraying each other in as many grotesque ways as they could fashion, each vying for the throne of Mycenae, winning it, losing it and winning it back again. Thyestes stole away Atreus’s wife Aerope. In retaliation Atreus served up Thyestes’ own sons to him in a feast.fn38 Thyestes was told by an oracle that the only way he could revenge himself on his brother Atreus for this crime would be by fathering a son by his own daughter – a son who would grow up to kill Atreus. So Thyestes bedded his daughter Pelopia, who duly bore him a son, AEGISTHUS. Thus adultery, infanticide, cannibalism and incest all followed each other in swift and juicy succession. Pelopia was so ashamed of the incest that, as soon as Aegisthus was born, she abandoned him deep in the countryside. In traditional fashion the baby was found by a shepherd and, in a somehow inevitable twist of fate, the shepherd took the baby to its uncle, King Atreus, who – unaware that the child was his brother Thyestes’ son and prophesied to slay him – adopted Aegisthus and raised him along with his own three children by Aerope: their two sons AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS, and daughter Anaxibia.
If you are with me so far I am greatly in awe of you.
Only when Aegisthus had grown to manhood did his ‘uncle’ Thyestes reveal to him that he was in fact his son (and grandson) and that he had been born to be an instrument of vengeance. Aegisthus, rather than being horrified to discover that he was the offspring of so noxious a union, obliged his father/grandfather Thyestes and slew Atreus, whose sons Agamemnon and Menelaus fled Mycenae, leaving it under the control of Thyestes and Aegisthus.
Where did Agamemnon and Menelaus go? They went south, to the Lower Peloponnese, and to the prosperous kingdom of Laconia (or Lacedaemon) which we know these days by a name that still stirs the blood – Sparta.fn39 The young princes were welcomed by Sparta’s king at this time, TYNDAREUS,fn40 who was married to LEDA, a princess from the kingdom of Aetolia, on the Gulf of Corinth’s northern side.
THE EGGS
One afternoon Tyndareus and Leda made love by a river. When Tyndareus had finished, he departed – as men will – leaving his wife lying back with her eyes closed, the sun shining down and warming her happy afterglow.
She was surprised moments later to feel her husband back on top of her. It was unusual for him to replenish his stores of amatory energy so rapidly.
‘You’re very frisky this afternoon, Tyndareus,’ she murmured.
But something wasn’t quite right. Tyndareus was hirsute, but no more hairy than the average Greek male. He certainly wasn’t furry. But, no, this wasn’t fur that she could feel all over her flesh, it was something else. It was … Surely not? … Could it be feathers?
Leda opened her eyes to see a great white swan lying on her. More than lying on her. The bird was forcing itself into her.
Who else but Zeus? Leda was beautiful and – looking down on Sparta that afternoon – the sight of her lying naked on a riverbank had been more than he had been able to resist. In order to have his way with beautiful girls, boys, nymphs and sprites of one kind or another, the King of the Gods had transformed himself in many extraordinary ways over the course of a long lustful career. Eagles, bears, goats, lizards, bulls, boars – even a shower of golden rain in one case. A swan seems almost routine by comparison.
Those familiar with the story of the birth of Heracles will be aware of the concept of heteropaternal superfecundation.fn41 Common enough in littering animals like pigs, dogs and cats, this biological phenomenon is rare, but not unknown, in humans. There was a well-documented case in 2019.fn42 It is a form of what is known as polyspermy – the fertilizing of the same egg as a result of different acts of sexual congress, causing a set of twins to be born, each of whom has a different father. In the case of Leda, this crazed zygotic quirk was even more remarkable, for she gave birth to two sets of twins. Actually, that is not strictly true. It was odder even than that. When she came to term, Leda laid two eggs, each of which contained a set of twins.
I know. But stay with me.
From one egg came a girl and boy whom they named CLYTEMNESTRA and CASTOR, from the other a girl and boy whom they named Helen and POLYDEUCES (also known as Pollux). Tradition has it that Zeus was the father of Polydeuces and Helen, and Tyndareus of Clytemnestra and Castor. Castor and Polydeuces were brought up together as loving twin brothers, inseparably devoted each to the other. Helen and Clytemnestra grew up to make the fateful matches that determined the main outlines of this whole story.
There is an older version of this myth that maintains Zeus fathered Helen another way. They say he pursued NEMESIS, daughter of Night, goddess of divine retribution, punisher of hubris, bringer down of those whose pride and vanity causes them to overreach and insult the order of things. Through rivers, meadows and mountain passes the god pursued her. She changed her shape into a fish and darted into the ocean, but still Zeus chased on, until – when she had taken the form of a goose – he turned himself into a swan and finally coupled with her. In the fullness of time, Nemesis laid an egg which was found by a shepherd who brought it to his queen, Leda. She incubated it in a wooden chest and, when it hatched, raised the human child that emerged, Helen, as her own daughter.fn43
In either case, Zeus was Helen’s father, but she was raised by Leda and Tyndareus as their own, along with her sister Clytemnestra and their brothers Castor and Polydeuces.
Castor and Polydeuces were decidedly handsome. Clytemnestra’s looks drew admiration from all who saw her, but Helen … From the first it was clear that Helen’s beauty was of the kind that is seen once in every generation. Less often than that. Once in every two, three, four or five generations. Maybe once in the lifetime of a whole epoch or civilization. No one who beheld her could remember ever having seen anyone a tenth as lovely. As each year passed, her attractiveness grew such that none who looked on her ever forgot her. Before long the fame of Helen of Sparta was as great as that o
f any mighty ruler, brave warrior or monster-slaying hero – or of any mortal that lived or had lived.
Yet, for all her jaw-dropping beauty, Helen managed to avoid being spoiled or self-regarding. Besides skill at many of the arts in which women were encouraged in those days, she had a bright and lively sense of humour. She loved to play jokes on her family and friends, and was helped in this by a remarkable gift of mimicry. Many were the times she confused her mother by calling to her in her sister Clytemnestra’s voice. Many were the times she confounded her father by calling to him in her mother Leda’s voice. All who encountered Helen foretold a bright and wonderful future for her.
She was only twelve years old when Theseus, King of Athens, egged on by his wild friend PIRITHOUS, kidnapped her and took her to Aphidna, one of the Twelve Towns of Attica. Leaving the bewildered and frightened girl in the charge of the town’s ruler, Aphidnus, and his own mother, Aethra, Theseus went down into the realm of the dead with Pirithous to help realize his friend’s mad scheme to abduct Persephone. The plan failed horribly, of course, and the two men were cast by a furious Hades into stone chairs where they stayed imprisoned in the underworld until Heracles passed by during his Twelfth Labour and rescued Theseus.fn44 While they were trapped there, Helen was rescued by the DIOSCURI, as her brothers Castor and Polydeuces were often called,fn45 and restored to her family in Sparta. She had come to rely on Aethra, however, so the older woman accompanied her to Sparta, not as her keeper now, but as her slave woman. Quite a comedown for Aethra, who – besides being the mother of the great Theseus, slayer of the Minotaur and King of Athens – was in her own right the daughter of King Pittheus of Troezen and a one-time lover of the sea god Poseidon.fn46
THE LOTTERY
After the Dioscuri rescued their sister from her imprisonment in Aphidna, a much closer guard was put upon Helen. As she moved from girlhood to young womanhood, she was forced to endure the presence of sentries outside her door day and night and the company of an entourage of serving women, chaperones, bodyguards and duennas, led by Theseus’s mother Aethra, whenever she wanted to go for so much as a walk around the palace.
Beauty may seem like one of the greatest of blessings, but it can be a curse too. Some are born with a beauty that seems to turn people mad. Fortunately there are very few of us like that, but our power can be unsettling and even eruptive. This proved the case with Helen. Her mother Leda and her father Tyndareus (her mortal father, at least) were soon made aware that every unmarried king, prince and warlord in the Peloponnese, and a good many from the mainland, islands and furthest-flung outposts of the Greek world, were lining up for her hand in marriage. A huge throng of eager, powerful suitors began to fill up Tyndareus’s palace, along with their noisy and hard-drinking retinues. They would have been delighted enough to win the hand of so eligible a princess from so great a royal house under any circumstances, but Helen’s beauty was now so celebrated and sung around the known world that whoever took her for his wife would win a new and matchless kind of prestige and glory, not to mention the unique privilege of being able to wake up to that ravishing face every morning.
Amongst the most powerful and insistent suitors were the Spartan royal family’s permanent house-guests of the time, Atreus’s sons Agamemnon and Menelaus, but they were far from alone in their assiduous courting of the beautiful Helen. Ajax of Salamisfn47 joined the queue for her hand, as did his half-brother Teucer. DIOMEDES of Argosfn48 arrived at the palace, as did IDOMENEUS, King of Crete, Menestheus, King of Athens,fn49 Prince PATROCLUS, heir to the throne of Opus (a kingdom on the east coast of mainland Greece), PHILOCTETES of Meliboea, IOLAUS and his brother Iphiclus, rulers of the Thessalian Phylaceans, and many other clan chiefs, elders, princelings, minor nobles, landowners and hangdog hopefuls. Far too many to mention.fn50
One high-born and respected ruler who did not come to Sparta to woo Helen was ODYSSEUS of Ithaca. This prince was reckoned by all who knew him to be the wiliest, cunningest and most guileful young man in all the Greek world. Odysseus’s father was the Argonaut LAERTES, ruler of Cephalonia and its outlying islands in the Ionian Sea.fn51 Odysseus’s mother ANTICLEA was a granddaughter of Hermes by way of the thief and trickster AUTOLYCUS.fn52 Laertes had given his son Odysseus rule in Ithaca, one of the islands in the Cephalonian archipelago over which Laertes held sway.fn53 While it was far from the most fertile or prosperous of the Ionian isles, Odysseus would not have swapped Ithaca for all the wealth and wonder of the Peloponnese. Ithaca was his home and he loved every jagged rock and scraggy bush of it.
Friends and enemies alike were agreed that Odysseus had inherited more than enough of the rascally duplicity and mischievous cunning of his grandfather Autolycus and his great-grandfather Hermes. The enemies stayed away, distrusting and fearing his wit and wiles; the friends leaned on him for counsel and stratagems. He was infuriatingly crooked and duplicitous if you disliked and distrusted him, deliciously crafty and clever if you needed him.
It was in the latter spirit that a fretful Tyndareus sought him out. ‘Odysseus! Look at the state of my palace. Every bachelor from the islands, highlands and lowlands has crowded in, begging for Helen’s hand. I have been offered bride-prices that would make your eyes pop. There are idiots who think I’m lucky to have such a daughter, but they simply haven’t thought it through. They don’t seem to realize that if I give her to one suitor I will almost certainly earn the implacable enmity of all the others.’
‘There is no doubt,’ said Odysseus, ‘no doubt at all, that those who do not win Helen will take it badly. Very badly indeed.’
‘The whole Peloponnese will froth with blood!’
‘Unless we put our heads together and think.’
‘You do the thinking,’ said Tyndareus. ‘When I try, I get a headache.’
‘An idea does occur,’ said Odysseus.
‘It does?’
‘Oh yes. Simple and obvious. It is guaranteed to work, but comes at a price.’
‘Name it. If it stops civil war and leaves me in peace, then it’s worth whatever you demand.’
‘I want the hand of PENELOPE in marriage.’
‘Penelope? My brother Icarius’s Penelope?’
‘The same. She is promised to a prince of Thessaly, but I love her and she loves me.’
‘So that’s why you are the only one who hasn’t been hanging around Helen’s rooms with your tongue hanging out, is it? Well, well. Congratulations. Solve my problem and you can sail her to Ithaca on the next tide. What’s your idea?’
‘Call all the suitors together and tell them this …’
Tyndareus listened as Odysseus outlined his plan. He needed to hear it run through in detail three times before he finally understood. He embraced his friend warmly.
‘Brilliant!’ he said. ‘You’re a genius.’
Tyndareus gave commands. Horns and drums sounded. Slaves ran through the palace in bare feet, calling on the guests to convene at once in the great hall. The suitors answered the summons filled with nervous excitement. Had a decision been made? Had Helen chosen? Had her parents chosen for her? After a final fanfare and roll of the drums, Tyndareus, Leda and a blushing Helen appeared on the high balcony. The great press of kings, warlords, clan chiefs, princelings, generals, nobles, landowners and hangdog hopefuls below fell silent.
Odysseus sat on a stool in the shadows, smiling. How would the suitors respond to his plan, he wondered. They would be forced to accept. Of course they would. Reluctantly at first, but accept they must.
Tyndareus cleared his throat. ‘My friends. Queen Leda, Princess Helen and I are most touched by the ardent interest you have shown in forming an … intimate connection with our royal house. So many of you, and all so fine, so noble and so eligible. We have decided that the only way to settle this matter fairly is …’
He paused. A creaking of leather and a clinking of brass as fifty men leaned forward to hear.
‘… by lottery.’
A great groan went up. Odysseus’s smil
e broadened.
Tyndareus raised a hand. ‘I know, I know. You fear that the odds are against you. Or perhaps you fear that the gods are against you? For if the winner is decided by lot, he is elected not by me, nor by the queen, nor by Helen herself, but by Moros and Tyche,fn54 from whom fate and fortune, good or ill, always derive.’
The suitors appeared to see the justice of this rather – to Odysseus’s mind – sententious point, and muttered their consent.
Tyndareus put up his hand for silence. ‘One more thing. There is a price to be paid for a lottery ticket in this draw.’
Mutters now of discontent. Odysseus hugged himself.
‘Not, I assure you, a price in gold or goods,’ said Tyndareus. ‘The price we require is an oath. Applicants for the hand of Helen will only be allowed to draw their lots if first they swear by all the gods of Olympus and on the lives of their children and grandchildren that, no matter who wins, they will abide uncomplainingly by the result. Furthermore, they pledge themselves to defend Helen and her lawfully recognized husband from all who might come between them.’
A silence fell as the suitors absorbed this. It was brilliant, of course. Tyndareus could never have thought of such a scheme himself. Who but Odysseus of Ithaca had the wit to propose an idea so simple and so perfect? The lucky winner of Helen’s hand could now feel safe for ever. The unlucky losers, however resentful or disappointed, would be able to do nothing about it without breaking a sacred oath. An oath witnessed by the most formidable gathering of the powerful ever gathered in one place.
With grumbling assent the suitors fell one by one to their knees and swore, before the gods and upon their honour, to protect and defend whichever of their number drew the winning ticket from the great copper bowl that even now was being carried into the hall.fn55
The winner of the draw was Prince Menelaus. This delighted Tyndareus, who told Odysseus that he read in such a pleasing result the benevolent intervention of the gods.fn56
