Demigods and Monsters (7 page)

Okay, so say that you think
so far so good
. You're tired of boys anyway. Who needs them? They never call when they say they will, and when they actually do call they only want to talk about really boring things, and you don't like any of their meathead friends, and sometimes you're not sure if you even like
them
. Especially when they don't cut their hair for a while or wear that same T-shirt at least three times a week. Besides, your best friends (who needless to say are all girls) happen to understand you, really understand everything you're going through, sometimes without you even having to explain it all. So no need to stress over that part of the deal.

But consider that this contract is pretty absolute. When Artemis says no males, she really means it. This includes your father, your brothers, your male cousins and friends. No more father-daughter dances or the two of you making pancakes while the rest of your family is sleeping. No more watching TV with your brothers and fighting, in a playful way, over the remote control. No more kicking around a soccer ball in the park with your male friends. (For the record, I have never kicked around a soccer ball in a park or anywhere else, but should I ever choose to do so, it might be fun to kick the ball to a male friend or two.) Instead, you have to leave your family and begin a shiny brand-new life with your adopted sisters, your fellow Hunters.

Not so easy now, right? Remember in Rick Riordan's
The Titan's Curse
, the character Bianca is offered this choice. True, Artemis does mention that Bianca may see her brother
occasionally
, but she also quite clearly states that if Bianca swears the oath, she will have a new family starting then and there. And Bianca does end up swearing the oath and becoming one of Artemis's maidens. But her choice has some unexpected consequences that come back to haunt her.

Who cares, you say. You still want in. Your father's too strict anyway and your brothers (if you have them) are so annoying and probably wouldn't even notice if you were gone. Fine, but let's examine Artemis a little more closely to see just what you'd be getting into if
you signed up for eternal youth. Artemis as portrayed in
The Titan's Curse
is a stern but fair task-mistress, willing to go to great lengths to protect her maidens. Moreover, she is a woman of extreme strength and conviction, as shown when she shoulders Atlas's burden and bears it admirably. And Riordan's rendering of her does align with the more traditional Artemis of Greek myths and legends.

Yet while Riordan's Artemis seems like the very best possible older sister a girl could ask for—daring, brave, full of vitality—the Artemis of Greek myths had a harsher side. In fact, the Artemis of Greek myths often possessed a contradictory and cruelly unforgiving nature. Although she was generally known as the protector of innocents, there are several disturbing myths that showcase her terrifying capacity for swift and brutal revenge.

One such myth concerns Niobe, the Queen of Thebes. Niobe gave birth to seven sons and seven daughters, and in a moment of
hubris
she bragged about her fertility at a ceremony honoring the goddess Leto. Huge mistake. Leto just happened to be the mother of none other than Artemis and Apollo. Also, she was often considered the goddess of fertility, which apparently Niobe found too much of an irony to resist. Niobe decided that she was superior to Leto, having had fourteen children to Leto's mere two.

It's generally never a good idea to compare yourself favorably to a goddess, especially at a ceremony in her honor. Furthermore, Leto was the daughter of Titans, who aren't exactly known for their easy-going nature. As to be expected, Leto didn't take the insult well and sent in her royal children Artemis and Apollo to exact revenge. While Apollo killed Niobe's seven sons, Artemis, an expert huntress, shot and killed the seven daughters with her deadly arrows.

In some versions, Niobe is said to have cradled her youngest daughter in her arms, begging the goddess to spare the child's life; unfortunately, Artemis's arrow had already left the bow. Niobe's husband, Amphion, was said to have either committed suicide when learning of his children's deaths or been murdered by Apollo. Niobe
fled in despair to Mount Sipylus (located somewhere in Asia Minor), where she wept so much that she was eventually turned into stone (in some versions by Artemis herself).

You might ask, what was Niobe thinking to insult Leto, a goddess, a lover of Zeus, and the mother of such powerful children? It's true that back then there were very specific rules concerning honor and the right to take revenge once said honor was insulted. So let's put Niobe aside for the moment and look instead at Iphigenia, Agamemnon's unfortunate daughter. After killing a deer in one of Artemis's sacred groves (and in some versions also boasting that he was the better hunter), Agamemnon, King of Argos or Mycenae (depending on whom you're talking to), draws the wrath of Artemis down upon his head. Things really heat up when Agamemnon wants to sail to Troy with his army. Artemis refuses to allow the wind to fill Agamemnon's sails . . . until he sacrifices his youngest daughter Iphigenia as payback for killing one of her deer (and nominating himself as the better hunter). In some accounts Agamemnon completes the sacrifice and Iphigenia is killed, while in others Artemis relents at the last moment. In these latter versions, Artemis spirits the girl away to the island of Crimea, where she becomes a priestess of Artemis's temple. This may seem like a kinder fate, but the temple routinely indulges in the human sacrifice of strangers to the island. Not exactly the kind of career you aspire to.

Still unconvinced that Artemis might not be the most stable and considerate of bosses? What about the fate of one of Artemis's most famous nymphs, Callisto? Much like Riordan's Zoë Nightshade, Callisto was one of Artemis's favorite nymphs, who upheld her vow of chastity and hunted with the goddess frequently. Unfortunately, she caught the eye of Zeus, Artemis's own father, and once Zeus' interest is piqued there often isn't anything a girl can do. Greek mythology is full of tales of Zeus' philandering ways and the incredible lengths he goes to in order to seduce the object of his interest.

Although a few legends tell of Callisto welcoming Zeus with open arms, most of the versions have Zeus resorting to trickery. In these versions, knowing that Callisto was completely devoted to both Artemis and her vow of chastity, Zeus appeared to the nymph as the goddess Artemis herself while Callisto lay resting under a tree. Once Callisto's guard was down, Zeus abandoned his disguise and used force against her. To make matters worse, Callisto ended up pregnant from the encounter. Fearing Artemis's legendary wrath, Callisto tried to conceal her condition, but finally was no longer able to one morning when all the nymphs bathed together in a forest glade. Furious that Callisto betrayed her vow (even though by most accounts Callisto hadn't done so willingly), Artemis turned her into a bear, which she then hunted down and killed. In other versions, Callisto was still allowed to give birth to her son Arcas, who in turn encountered his mother in her bear form and killed her. In yet other versions, Artemis was on the verge of killing Callisto when Zeus interfered and placed her in the sky where she can be seen as Ursa Major. (Interestingly enough, Riordan's Artemis takes credit for placing Callisto in the sky herself.)

Callisto is not an exception to the rule, by the way. Maera, daughter of Proetus, was another of Artemis's nymphs who had the misfortune to attract Zeus' roving eye. Whether Maera was willing or not (and my guess is not), Zeus seduced her. Enraged that her nymph had “broken” her vow, Artemis killed her.

So maybe this option of eternal youth and freedom isn't looking all that attractive anymore. But what if you were a girl living in Ancient Greece, the original stomping grounds of the gods? Females in Ancient Greece, as to be expected, had very different outlooks, expectations of, and rules in their lives. Society (read: men) believed women were weak creatures who needed to be shielded from themselves as well as from the rest of the world. Traditionally, women were appointed a male guardian, usually a father or brother, though in some cases another male relative. This male guardian or
kyrios
'
duty was to marry off his female charge, usually when she was in her early teens. The guardian supplied the dowry and the match; the girls had very little or no say in the matter. Love or even liking was not a factor in the marriage.

Once married, a wife's main function was to reproduce. And reproduce and reproduce. Oh, and she was also supposed to spin and cook and clean. In short, she had to manage the household. But that's where her sphere of influence began and ended. A Greek wife was rarely allowed out of her own house, except to attend festivals and funerals, where a woman's presence was permitted, and even then she was never to go unattended (i.e., with a male, for her own protection). A popular belief at the time was that a good wife was an invisible wife. The less said about a married woman, the more honorable she was considered. And this extended even inside her own home. If a husband brought guests home to entertain, a wife had to make herself scarce.

And the possibilities for women who weren't destined to be wives in Ancient Greek society were even bleaker. Women who weren't marriageable were often forced to become slaves. If they were slightly more fortunate, they became courtesans or concubines. A concubine was the mistress of her own home, but, like a courtesan, her main function was to entertain men. Their lives and livelihoods depended on how well they could manage this. In fact, all of these occupations—wife, slave, courtesan, or concubine—involved a level of dependence on the good will of men that is unheard of for young women living in today's democratic societies. Given the hazardous situation of women in Ancient Greece, Artemis's proposition suddenly seems more appealing. Perhaps most out of all the goddesses, she represents all that traditional Greek women were not allowed to be: free and untamed. In fact, Artemis is a bit of a paradox. On the one hand, her commitment to purity must have been greatly admired by Ancient Greeks; yet she is also untamable and
answers to no man. She is truly the eternal wild child who never has to grow up and shoulder the responsibilities that adulthood brings. She never has to compromise herself or conform to any of society's standards. No wonder she is associated with the moon—completely untouchable, forever unattainable. If offered the option of becoming one of Artemis's immortal maidens, freed forever from the shackles of marriage or slavery, I think many Ancient Greek women would have jumped on that bandwagon as it careened past them.

Ancient Greek women would have had no concept of the freedoms that are enjoyed, even taken for granted, today. Think about it: When was the last time you questioned your right, your ability really, to walk down the street in broad daylight either by yourself or with friends? Can you even imagine a world where you weren't free to choose your own friends or what subjects to study in school or whether or not you wanted to play soccer or try out for the swim team or the community theater production? There are myriad choices on our plates today and each one presents an array of exciting opportunities and possibilities.

Both Riordan's Artemis and the Artemis of Greek myth represent the ideals of freedom and independence, of glorious strength and bravery. And all of these qualities are admirable ones, ones to cultivate in our own lives. We
should
live by the principles of Artemis and all that she espoused. (Well, we should live by
most
of those principles. Maybe skip the human sacrifice bit.)

If I were given the choice of eternal freedom, I think I would have to pass. Not because I have a burning desire to kick that soccer ball around the field with a male friend or two, but because the vow's requirements are just a little too extreme for me. And even though those signs of aging are a long way off, I advise you to follow my lead, and when your time comes, put your faith in Oil of Olay, Lancôme, and Revlon.

They cost a lot less.

Carolyn MacCullough's three novels for young adults are
Falling Through Darkness
,
Stealing Henry
, and
Drawing the Ocean
. Her fourth novel for young adults,
Once a Witch
, will be released Fall 2009 by Clarion Books. She lives in New York City, where she teaches creative writing at The New School and Gotham Writers, Inc. More information about her and her books can be found at
www.carolynmaccullough.com
.