I went exploring yesterday, curious about a new path someone had cut that appeared to skirt around an apartment complex behind me. I had mourned when they cut down the trees to make way for apartments. It was almost country here once, back when I bought my house. It was the lay of the land that appealed to me, a gentle curve and a great white oak at least two feet in diameter shading the house. There were mountains to the west, woods to the east across the gravel road and friendly neighbors on each side. And the best was yet to come. I discovered a path that went almost three miles through overgrown meadow turned to nascent woodland and I walked and watched over the years as it metamorphosed from overgrown meadow to a young forest of trees. Blackberry bushes sprung up along the path and it was fun to identify plants as they invaded and then faded because of a change in leaf coverage. I had it for 8 years more or less. I guess I thought it mine.

Then the land was bought and made into apartment complexes. I despaired, said goodbye, and ended my walks.

Photo by Deena from Pexels

This post is about metamorphosis.

For example, the meadow metamorphosed into woodland then into an apartment complex. And the land is about to do its yearly metamorphosis into spring. Pink Easter egg blossoms

Ron Cogswell
‘Weeping Japanese’ Cherry Tree – April 6, 2013

hang on the still leafless Magnolia Jane in my backyard, the cherry tree is dripping its lazy long branches into the road and daffodils light up the still sleeping Hostas just the way I hoped. All is well.

I am also metamorphosing, a personal metamorphosis, aging bit by bit and coping with the remains of my vanity. Dame Mary Beard, a British classicist and cult favorite, also aging, recently wrote a book¹Women & Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard, 2017about Ovid’s masterpiece, Metamorphosis. In it she retells how Roman and Greek myth have created the tradition of silencing women. Unfortunately for women, these are the myths upon which our history, our laws, and our ways of being are based.

An example is the myth of Philomela who was kidnapped and raped by her brother-in-law, King Tereus. When she threatened to tell, he cut out her tongue and locked her up in the woods. Unable to speak, she wove a tapestry that depicted the rape and sent it to her sister Procne, wife of King Tereus. Queen Procne searches the woods and rescues Philomela. Back at the castle, the two sisters plot a heinous revenge. The force of it ends in the complete destruction of the family as well as the kingdom. In their anger, they murder Itys, Procne and Tereus toddler son, add his body parts to the stew pot, and feed him to the King. After Tereus consumes the meal, Philomela enters with Itys’ head and throws it on his lap. Imagine his shock. After Tereus processes his horror, he chases the sisters out of the castle. He will surely murder them if he can catch them. The Gods finally look down (Where had they been all this time?) and metamorphose the three of them into birds: Procne into a nightingale, Philomela a sparrow and Tereus a warlike hoope. There are a confusion of lessons to be learned in this Stephen King worthy myth.

The myths abound in stories where women are silenced. There is little Echo who can only repeat what she hears. She has no agency – no voice of her own. In another is the story of Cassandra, who was given prophecy as a gift by the god, Apollo.  She could foretell the future. But when she didn’t respond to his overtures of love, he raped her. She threatens to tell the world. Apollo is worried for he has given her the power to undo him. She will tell the world about the rape and he cannot allow this. Apollo cannot take back the gift of prophecy so he makes it useless. He curses her words. Cassandra retains the power to tell the truth, and she tells it over and over. The problem is no one believes her. Sound familiar? She is never be believed as long as she lives.  She learns a lesson a lot of women have learned. You can’t refuse a powerful man. And, even more importantly, you can’t tell. You can never ever tell. 

Stories from the past and present cry out to be told. Powerful attitudes defending the perpetrators of rape have been in play up to now. Women’s tongues were loosened by the #metoo movement. It has been a metamorphosis of a previous societal norm of secrecy. Many stories are coming out and this is just and right.

Attitudes need to change. The Law need to change. Both women and men need to change. We need to stop protecting violent men when they abuse women. It’s possible now. Now Cassandra, Echo and Philomela can and should be believed. I should be believed. Women should be believed.