When a geeky kid is say, in the sixth grade and really into Roman Mythology, they get into all sorts of books, retellings for children and the like. The gods seem a little, well, crazy, but the adventures are cool and interesting. Later on, perhaps in high school with more research or for a college class, that same geek is given a copy of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. At that point, it’s a whole lot of WHOA. Clearly the Metamorphoses were the base for all those myths that kids were told about. They sure do contain Jupiter and the gang. We get that Juno is often jealous and Venus dates around. (Like a refrain from an alternate version of the Baptist revival song “Old Time Religion”:

We went to worship Venus By gods, you should have seen us Now the clinic has to screen us But that’s good enough for me!

 
However, nothing compares to the original, twining masterpiece. Over 700 pages long, it’s a comprehensive guide that even translated in English vibrates with intensity all the way through. The poetic turns of phrase delight those of us interested in beautiful prose. But more importantly, it’s full of sex and death and torture and ruin. This is definitely not the sanitized version of mythology. Reading it after a childhood spent reading those is akin to seeing Disney movies your whole life and suddenly being introduced to the original, written Brothers Grimm.

When I was in college, a professor told me that the Metamorphoses was so influential that it was the second book printed on the Gutenberg Press after the Bible. I actually researched that for this article, but I’m not really able to substantiate that claim. It could be true, because this book is not only the seminal piece on Classical mythology, it has been famous ever since it was penned in 8 CE. In fact, it’s so influential that the story of Pyramus and Thisbe was the base for Romeo and Juliet (of course, Shakespeare often rewrote classics).

I wonder if its enduring popularity is related to the racy content: if the only other reading material you had were religious texts, but you could, say, read about the Naiad Salmacis popping the cherry of innocent Hermaphroditus and creating the first hermaphrodite… wouldn’t you? Particularly with the excuse of a “classical education?” I know I would!

While we at Geek Speak are typically happy to give you whole summaries for 700 page books, the issue with this one is that there are so many small component parts. Like the meaning of the term “metamorphosis,” the text continually changes its shape in relation to the narrative. If I listed all the parts of this book, I would be stuck with a long index of stories rather than a review, and where’s the fun in that? Obviously this book gets my recommendation, but let me tell you a little more about what I consider the best parts.

The first is the Labyrinth story (unfortunately the one without David Bowie). The Labyrinth was built to hide the Minotaur, which was a product of King Minos’ wife’s “unnatural adultery.” To stay alive, the monster required the sacrifice of Athenians, but when the hero Theseus’ card was dealt, the princess Ariadne helped him through the Labyrinth with some thread. He was able to escape with her, but then abandons her cruelly on the island of Dia. Then, who should appear but the god Bacchus himself, who then marries Ariadne. He adores her so much that he takes her crown and turns it into stars so that she will shine brightly in the sky forever. Take THAT, Theseus, you bastard! There’s more to this story, which unfolds like an ancient soap opera: we then get to Icarus and Daedalus. We feel sorry for Daedalus for a second before we find out what he did to his nephew. But really, the best part is knowing that Ariadne got one up on that rat bastard Theseus. Best post-breakup relationship ever.

My second favorite story is that of Orpheus and Eurydice. And not just because it was the basis of my beloved Moulin Rouge! No, the idea that one could love so deeply as to enter the underworld and charm the gods into giving back your lost loved one is so beautiful. Then, combined with the tragedy that is losing your love because you were too excited to follow directions. Of course, the sanitized versions don’t say what happens after that, which is that Orpheus, after a period of mourning where he swears off all women, finds a loophole and apparently founds the Thracian chapter of NAMBLA. That last part isn’t so hot.

One centralized theme of these stories is that often the squick factor is high.

I’ll stop here, though there are many more stories to talk excitedly about in a coffee shop or bar somewhere. I encourage you to discover your own favorites. Or, if you already have a beloved story from adaptations of Greek and Roman Mythology, it’s about time you read the original story. On that note, I leave you dear readers with one more verse for Venus from yet another filked version of “Old Time Religion”:

Shall we sing a verse for Venus Of the Gods she is the meanest She once bit me on my... elbow! And it's good enough for me!

   -- Sara Paige