Friday, January 15, 2010
We're back!
Apologies for the lull in blogging as The Lady Finger editors relocated east to D.C. and New York. From here on out, we'll be blogging with vim again. Below this, you'll find our first post of the new year by longtime contributor Adrienne. She writes about Roman writer Ovid's depiction of sexual assault and its repercussions. We hope that this powerful, insightful read will inspire you to contribute, too. We can be reached, as always, at theladyfinger@gmail.com. All best. -Naomi and Sara
Io and Callisto: sexual assault in mythology
Trigger Warning: This post is about sexual assault and its repercussions.
Rereading Ovid’s Metamorphoses for the umpteenth time, I am struck by something I hadn’t noticed before: the author’s nuanced, accurate depiction of the repercussions of rape on the lives and psyches of young women. When I use words like “accurate depiction” I mean that his portrayal reflects experiences common to many, though certainly not all, victims/survivors of sexual assault. My analysis focuses on the alienation and isolation frequently felt by victims/survivors of sexual assault, but I do not intend to downplay the wide range of responses individuals have to the experience. I will use the words “victim” and “survivor” alternately because I believe both apply to the figures at hand. My analysis is necessarily informed by my own experiences, as well as what I have learned from loved ones and people willing to share their stories publicly. If your experience is different or you dispute my generalizations please feel free to share your view in the comments. If you do not have firsthand experience with sexual assault or abuse please be mindful of your ignorance when deciding whether to comment.
Of all of the stories involving rape in the Metamorphoses (and there are many—nearly every god commits the act at least once), the stories of Io and Callisto are particularly striking because of the similarities between them and the extent to which they elicit sympathy from the reader. Both young women are going about their daily tasks when Jupiter comes down and rapes them. Both are subsequently transformed into animals: Jupiter makes Io a cow to hide her from his wife, Juno; Juno turns Callisto into a bear as punishment for her (unwilling) involvement. Both women are alienated from their loved ones as a result of the rape. In both cases, Juno directs her ire at the woman instead of her own husband. Each woman eventually bears a son. Ovid did not invent these features of the stories; they had existed as part of the mythological and literary tradition for centuries before he composed this work in the first decade of the Common Era. Where Ovid diverges from the tradition, and what makes his work relevant to us, is the extent to which he encourages the reader to sympathize with the victims, to understand fully what a vile, damaging act they endured, and to question the system that allows men in power to commit this act without suffering any repercussions themselves.
The transformation from human to animal is an allegory for the massive shift that takes place in each girl’s life after Jupiter assaults her. Though her essential nature remains intact, she can no longer interact with her family or society as she did before. Ovid emphasizes this fact by drawing attention to the characters’ lack of voice, saying of Callisto, “Lest her prayers prevail, her power of speech was quenched; a fearful growl, angry and menacing, came from her throat. She was a bear, but kept her woman’s heart. Moan after moan proclaimed her misery,” and of Io, “Would she complain, a moo came from her throat, a startling sound—her own voice frightened her.” [Note: I’ll use A.D. Melville’s translation throughout.] No matter how loudly they protest their situation, no one will understand them. This reflects the feelings of alienation and hopelessness experienced by many people who survive sexual assault, both today and in Ovid’s time. Contemporary American society, like Ovid’s Rome, does not provide a sufficient mechanism by which survivors can seek justice or make their voices heard.
Io and Callisto experience further alienation when they attempt, as animals, to reach out to their loved ones. Ovid says of Io, “…not even her father knew who she was, but she, disconsolate, followed her sisters, followed her father, let them stroke her, offered herself to be admired.” Callisto, having been banished from her community of huntresses and wandering alone in the woods for many years, meets her son Arcas, “now sixteen, his mother lost, her fate, her name unknown,” while he is hunting. Though she recognizes him, he cannot know who she is, and as she moves toward him he aims his javelin to kill her. Ovid draws attention to the difficulty often experienced by victims/survivors of sexual assault when they try to reach out to loved ones. The victim/survivor may be afraid to share the experience at all, or may have attempted to talk about the experience but did not receive a favorable reaction. In either case it is common to feel isolated, even from those whom one loves the most.
Ovid’s work also differs from common depictions of rape both in his day and in contemporary American society in what his version lacks: there is no victim-blaming and no glorification/sexualization of the act itself. Io and Callisto are going about their normal daily lives (Io returning from a stream, Callisto resting in the woods after a long hunt) when Jupiter appears and rapes them. It’s hard for me to imagine a story like this being told in mainstream society today without some insinuation that the girl should not have been out alone, or that she brought it on herself by dressing provocatively or just being young and pretty. In describing the act itself, Ovid is extremely brief. This is not to gloss over the rape and act as if it is not a big deal (as some scholars prefer to do, referring to the act of rape as “seducing,” “laying with” or, in the case of Edith Hamilton, “falling in love”) but to put the emphasis where it rightly belongs: on what happens to the women afterwards, how they suffer and endure as a result of the rape. If there is a rape scene in a mainstream movie these days, it will most likely resemble “rough sex” more than rape, will capitalize on the chance to show a woman naked, and will not explain how the victim deals with the trauma afterwards. Ovid by contrast makes it very clear that the act is non-consensual but he does not give any physical description of what happens. Instead he gives the survivors room to wander, to suffer, to express their anguish to the reader even if they cannot express it to those around them. -Adrienne
Rereading Ovid’s Metamorphoses for the umpteenth time, I am struck by something I hadn’t noticed before: the author’s nuanced, accurate depiction of the repercussions of rape on the lives and psyches of young women. When I use words like “accurate depiction” I mean that his portrayal reflects experiences common to many, though certainly not all, victims/survivors of sexual assault. My analysis focuses on the alienation and isolation frequently felt by victims/survivors of sexual assault, but I do not intend to downplay the wide range of responses individuals have to the experience. I will use the words “victim” and “survivor” alternately because I believe both apply to the figures at hand. My analysis is necessarily informed by my own experiences, as well as what I have learned from loved ones and people willing to share their stories publicly. If your experience is different or you dispute my generalizations please feel free to share your view in the comments. If you do not have firsthand experience with sexual assault or abuse please be mindful of your ignorance when deciding whether to comment.
Of all of the stories involving rape in the Metamorphoses (and there are many—nearly every god commits the act at least once), the stories of Io and Callisto are particularly striking because of the similarities between them and the extent to which they elicit sympathy from the reader. Both young women are going about their daily tasks when Jupiter comes down and rapes them. Both are subsequently transformed into animals: Jupiter makes Io a cow to hide her from his wife, Juno; Juno turns Callisto into a bear as punishment for her (unwilling) involvement. Both women are alienated from their loved ones as a result of the rape. In both cases, Juno directs her ire at the woman instead of her own husband. Each woman eventually bears a son. Ovid did not invent these features of the stories; they had existed as part of the mythological and literary tradition for centuries before he composed this work in the first decade of the Common Era. Where Ovid diverges from the tradition, and what makes his work relevant to us, is the extent to which he encourages the reader to sympathize with the victims, to understand fully what a vile, damaging act they endured, and to question the system that allows men in power to commit this act without suffering any repercussions themselves.
The transformation from human to animal is an allegory for the massive shift that takes place in each girl’s life after Jupiter assaults her. Though her essential nature remains intact, she can no longer interact with her family or society as she did before. Ovid emphasizes this fact by drawing attention to the characters’ lack of voice, saying of Callisto, “Lest her prayers prevail, her power of speech was quenched; a fearful growl, angry and menacing, came from her throat. She was a bear, but kept her woman’s heart. Moan after moan proclaimed her misery,” and of Io, “Would she complain, a moo came from her throat, a startling sound—her own voice frightened her.” [Note: I’ll use A.D. Melville’s translation throughout.] No matter how loudly they protest their situation, no one will understand them. This reflects the feelings of alienation and hopelessness experienced by many people who survive sexual assault, both today and in Ovid’s time. Contemporary American society, like Ovid’s Rome, does not provide a sufficient mechanism by which survivors can seek justice or make their voices heard.
Io and Callisto experience further alienation when they attempt, as animals, to reach out to their loved ones. Ovid says of Io, “…not even her father knew who she was, but she, disconsolate, followed her sisters, followed her father, let them stroke her, offered herself to be admired.” Callisto, having been banished from her community of huntresses and wandering alone in the woods for many years, meets her son Arcas, “now sixteen, his mother lost, her fate, her name unknown,” while he is hunting. Though she recognizes him, he cannot know who she is, and as she moves toward him he aims his javelin to kill her. Ovid draws attention to the difficulty often experienced by victims/survivors of sexual assault when they try to reach out to loved ones. The victim/survivor may be afraid to share the experience at all, or may have attempted to talk about the experience but did not receive a favorable reaction. In either case it is common to feel isolated, even from those whom one loves the most.
Ovid’s work also differs from common depictions of rape both in his day and in contemporary American society in what his version lacks: there is no victim-blaming and no glorification/sexualization of the act itself. Io and Callisto are going about their normal daily lives (Io returning from a stream, Callisto resting in the woods after a long hunt) when Jupiter appears and rapes them. It’s hard for me to imagine a story like this being told in mainstream society today without some insinuation that the girl should not have been out alone, or that she brought it on herself by dressing provocatively or just being young and pretty. In describing the act itself, Ovid is extremely brief. This is not to gloss over the rape and act as if it is not a big deal (as some scholars prefer to do, referring to the act of rape as “seducing,” “laying with” or, in the case of Edith Hamilton, “falling in love”) but to put the emphasis where it rightly belongs: on what happens to the women afterwards, how they suffer and endure as a result of the rape. If there is a rape scene in a mainstream movie these days, it will most likely resemble “rough sex” more than rape, will capitalize on the chance to show a woman naked, and will not explain how the victim deals with the trauma afterwards. Ovid by contrast makes it very clear that the act is non-consensual but he does not give any physical description of what happens. Instead he gives the survivors room to wander, to suffer, to express their anguish to the reader even if they cannot express it to those around them. -Adrienne
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