Dec 5, 20243 min read

Ariadne Makes Excuses – In Her Own Way

Updated: Dec 29, 2024

Prologue

Ovid set an example of patience as he traveled the Aegean to interview the lovers of the famous heroes who would be part of his Heroides. A commentator says that Ovid managed to interview the lifeless Ariadne on a beach in Naxos, and that after devouring a sandwich Ovid presented to her, Ariadne dictated her letter to Theseus in one breath. Other commentators claim, however, that Heroides is a work of fiction written by Ovid without ever leaving Rome. Who knows? Be that as it may, Ovid exaggerates in Letter #10. He is sometimes sentimental, sometimes incoherent; and ultimately presents a hollow and lamentable Ariadne. Neither Catullus, nor Jorge Guillén, nor even Monteverdi with his endless Lamento convinces me. Fortunately, his opera Arianna was lost. I hid some manuscripts and threw others away. I learned that Haydn had written about Ariadne in Italian and that Richard Strauss would later do so in German.

But none have done justice to Ariadne, nor have they considered the dysfunctional family she comes from. That is why I was so pleased to receive Ariadne's manuscript, which arrived a few days ago in a bottle on a Miami beach. After cleaning the manuscript of algae and mollusks, I have reconstructed an excerpt from this excuse by Ariadne. Several illustrious European universities are collaborating in the preparation of a facsimile edition.

In the meantime, I did not want to keep you waiting. Here is a preview. I beg you not to judge Ariadne too harshly; I have already forgiven her.

Ariadne Makes Excuses – In Her Own Way

Who can be surprised that I was complicit with Theseus in the death of my half-brother, given a family like mine? The scoundrel Theseus had promised to marry me, and he was my last chance to get married. He used to visit at night and lay beside me in his armor. He smelled like an old goat, but he was very unsettling, and in the end, I couldn’t resist.

Imagine that my lady mother, the venerable Queen Pasiphaë, seduced a bull while inside a wooden cow! That had to be justified somehow, and they blamed Poseidon. My poor half-brother, the Minotaur, may he rest in peace, was the result of such a union. Luckily, he didn’t eat much. He didn’t smell very good either, incidentally and suffered from severe halitosis. At least, his breath acted as a kind of rudimentary anesthesia, so his victims didn’t suffer as much. (I can’t vouch for this, but my father, King Minos, who, like many kings and great figures, was a habitual liar, told me so). In reality, and I want to make this clear once and for all: hardly anyone smelled good in Crete.

One of my dearest aunts, Circe, became famous for turning Odysseus’s companions into swine, but I could tell juicier stories of her misdeeds; my cousin Medea turned out to be an elegant infanticide – she always dressed very well and took care not to stain her clothes.

As for my sister Phaedra, she was a thorough pervert. I learned that she desired Hippolytus, the young son of Theseus. Serves Theseus right, the traitor who abandoned me on this cursed island and deceived me with my own sister. Now I regret having given him the thread when he descended into the labyrinth. I will never be able to return to Crete. And besides, and this is what hurts me the most, no matter how many times I bathe each day, I have never managed to get rid of the old goat smell.

To be honest, we only lacked the Hydra, the Kraken, and the Gorgon to complete the perfect family. And with a family like mine, who can possibly blame me for what I did?

Here I have the pleasure of sharing with you some photos from the family album: