THE BIRTH OF APHRODITE

Chaos and Love conceived but a single child, a daughter spherical in shape and white like an artistÕs blank canvas.  Earth, as she was called, born naked and alone, created Sky for a companion and to cover her bare body.  

 

Soon Earth and Sky became lovers, but they only produced terrible things, like monsters with a hundred heads and a hundred hands apiece, or oafish giants each with just one huge and hideous eye.  The twelve Titans, some personifications of the worldÕs natural disasters, reeked havoc on land and sea. 

Sky was a horrible husband and father.  He hated his children and imprisoned the most monstrous of them inside of the earth herself.  This angered their mother Earth, for she loved all her children, man and monster alike. 

 

And so Earth devised a plan to destroy her heartless husband.  From very sharp stone she fashioned a scythe, a tool used for cutting crops, which has a large, hook-shaped blade attached to a wooden handle.  When Earth asked the Titans for assistance, all were too scared to step up to their father except for the youngest, Cronus, and together they conspired to sneak up on the sky while he slept. 

 

One night, as Sky lay in bed with Earth, the child snuck up on his unsuspecting father and castrated him with the scythe.  In a single, painful swoop Cronus sliced off his fatherÕs genitals and tossed the dismembered body into the sea. It floated but did not drift, bleeding below the sea while at the surface foaming neatly into the form of a beautiful maiden.  Indeed, as bubbles blown upwards through the surface of the sea, so through this soapy shape of a woman stood forth the aerial Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.  A soft breeze carried her to the Isle of Cyprus.   Wherever the goddess stepped, her footprints turned into the freshest grass or grew to flowers just in-bloom. 

 

Dressed only in a flowery robe and still dripping from the sea, Aphrodite followed the seasons to the palace of Zeus.   She wore nothing else, save a carefully draped tunic of satin hair, which fell below her knees and was more yellow than daffodils.  As she looked around the great throne room, where the gods now assembled to meet her, Aphrodite arched her neck back and laughed with pure joy.

 

Hera watched the scene with narrow eyes.  ÒYou must marry her off,Ó she whispered to her husband. 

 

ÒYes,Ó said Zeus.  ÒA marriage of some sort does seem like a logical thing to do.  Brothers, sons, cousins,Ó he called, ÒAphrodite will be married, and she will choose her own husband.  Come and see me if you are interested in courting her.Ó  With that the gods gathered hastily around her, boasting and bragging,  promising to do this and that for her. 

The earth-shaking Poseidon swung his trident to and fro until he cleared a space around himself for a crowd to gather.  ÒI claim you for my own,Ó he said.  ÒYou are born from the sea and thus belong to the sea.  I offer you grottoes and lagoons.  I will give you all the precious gems and pearls in the world.  I will tell you my deepest secrets.  You will have more riches and power than anyone on land could ever know.  Come with me.  Be my queen.Ó 

 

Thus speaking, Poseidon slammed his trident on the floor.  A tidal wave, green and tongue-like, swelled out of the sea as if to lick up Olympus itself.  Then Poseidon raised his trident, and the mighty wave subsided into barely a ripple.  He bowed towards Aphrodite, who smiled simply at the gesture but said nothing.

 

Other gods then offered their own great gifts.  Apollo promised to give his queen a crown and throne of sun-gold, a golden chariot drawn by white swans, and a band of several sisters to serve as her handmaids.  Hermes offered to crown her queen of crossroads, whereto sit upon a throne and be told adventure tales and the latest gossip so that she would never grow bored.   Again, Aphrodite smiled politely at her suitors but said nothing.

 

When every eligible bachelor had stepped forward and Aphrodite had yet to accept an offer, Hera was sufficiently annoyed.  She dragged her loathed son Hephaestus from where he had been hiding behind the others.  Into his ear she hissed, ÒSpeak, fool.  Tell her exactly what I told you to say.Ó

 

Hephaestus limped forward, greatly embarrassed by Hera, and stood before the radiant Aphrodite.  With his eyes cast down he said, ÒI would make a good husband.  I work late.Ó 

 

For the first time Aphrodite smiled.  Though she still said nothing, she lifted the blacksmithÕs chin with her fingers and kissed him on the forehead. 

 

That night Aphrodite and Hephaestus were married.  At the wedding party she finally spoke, or rather whispered, to each of her suitors when he might come to her with his gift.