Divine Comedies: A Gift from Zeus and The Old Testament Made Easy

For three goddesses:

Donna, Jane, and Suzanne

PROMETHEUS

It’s impossibly boring down here, said Zeus. How on earth can you bear it?"

Boring? said Prometheus, one of the Titans, giants who were then Earth’s only inhabitants. White cliffs, blue seas, purple grapes, owls hooting in olive trees, everything in working order—what more could we ask for?

Comedy, said Zeus. Tragedy. Let’s liven it up! It’s time to create men. Do something about that, will you?

What sort of thing are they? asked Prometheus.

Rather like us, but less so, replied Zeus thoughtfully. You don’t want to make their arms too long, or their legs, either. Absolutely no wings. We can’t have them bumbling into Olympus, can we?

I’ll make a stab at it, said Prometheus. He scooped up some mud and, with a bit of help from his brother, Epimetheus, modeled a small population of men.

They’ll do, said Zeus.

I like them, said Prometheus.

The new race of men wanted to be on good terms with the gods, so they consulted with the wily Prometheus. We thought we’d offer up a sacrificial bull, they said. Should we give them the meat or the bones?

I guess we’ll let the gods decide, said Prometheus. He dismembered the bull and sewed two large bags from its hide. In one he put the meat, in the other the bones. He covered the second sack with a tempting layer of white fat and invited Zeus to choose.

I’ll take the second one, said Zeus, hungrily.

Help yourself, answered Prometheus.

When Zeus saw how he had been tricked, he was furious; but the bones remained the share of the gods forever after.

Zeus knew who to thank for them. Prometheus would not go unpunished. You’ve done these men no favor, he roared.

"These puny creatures of yours must gnaw

On meat that is stringy and tough and raw.

For the pleasure of disrespecting Zeus,

They shall not have fire. Let them eat raw goose."

We’ll see about that, said Prometheus to himself, and he went off to find the goddess Athene. Those creatures are so helpless, he said. They will never survive without fire.

"They are pathetic, sighed Athene. But what’s to be done?"

Just sneak me into Olympus, said Prometheus. I’ll take care of the rest.

So that evening Athene smuggled him up the back side of the mountain and pointed him toward Apollo’s fiery chariot. Prometheus quickly lighted a torch and flew back down to Earth, where he gave the fire to men, along with a lesson on how to use it.

"Behold, this dancing fire I bring.

Flame, that seems a living thing.

Warmth, it breathes, and light—and juice

From a freshly roasted goose!"

When Zeus saw all those twinkling fires, with succulent roasts turning above them, and men contentedly toasting their toes before them, his rage was terrible. I’ll give them a gift of my own, he shouted. Something to make their short lives as wretched as possible! He commissioned Hephaestus to fashion a woman—there were as yet no women—and he ordered each of the gods to endow her with a gift. Aphrodite gave her surpassing beauty; Hermes, quickness of wit; Apollo gave her a musical voice; and the four winds gave her breath.

What do you think? asked Hephaestus.

Now that’s more like it, said Zeus, giving the enchanting figure an affectionate pat.

Scrawny, said Hera, his wife, insipid, and perhaps a bit cross-eyed. She had some misgivings about this new creation.

The woman was named Pandora, the gift of all. We mustn’t send her off empty-handed, said Zeus. Let’s give her some baggage. So all the gods chipped in once more and put together a magnificent box packed with all the torments of mankind, which were, in that Golden Age, unknown.

But you don’t want to open it, they told her. Not ever. Then Zeus sent her down to Earth as a present to Epimetheus.

Think twice, brother, cautioned Prometheus. A gift from Zeus is not likely to be a bargain. But Epimetheus was dazzled by the sight of her, and besides, he was not eager to offend Zeus by rejecting her, so he married the girl at once. They gave the mysterious box a place of honor and promised each other to leave it unopened forever.

But Pandora’s lively curiosity would not let her rest. Every day she dusted it, circled it, stared at it from all angles, and tapped at it thoughtfully. One day she put her ear to it and thought she heard a faint buzzing inside. Perhaps some poor creature is trapped in there, she said. I’ll have one little peek. And she opened it, just a crack.

What a disaster! Out flew myriad hideous things.

There were:

Carbuncles, Quagmires, and Jiggery-Pokery,

Colic, Depravity, Lummoxes, Louts,

Barbed Wire, Insomnia, Practical Jokery,

Treachery, Lechery, Deluge, and Droughts,

Truculence, Toothache, and Dandruff and Thuggery,

Blight and Sciatica, Gallstones, Tight Shoes,

Sinkholes and Nigglers, and Nits and Skullduggery,

Anchovies, Avarice, Dudgeon, The Blues.

Also:

Prissiness, Platitudes, Tapeworm, and Pestilence,

Yuckapucks, Yahoos, Delusions, and Fleas,

Heartlessness, Hiccups, Duplicity, Flatulence,

Vandals and Whiners, Ingratitude, Sleaze.

Apathy, Obloquy, Bunions, Poltroonery,

Kitsch and Cacophony, Doldrums and Pain,

Fistulas, Flimflam, Curmudgeons, Buffoonery,

Kinkiness, Stinkiness, Warts, and Chow Mein.

And more!

Pandora slammed down the lid and Epimetheus ran to help her, but it was too late. All the plagues and misfortunes that ever might be flew out of that evil box and circled twice around their heads, stinging them viciously before setting off to bedevil the life out of the human race.

At the very bottom of the box lay Hope, their only consolation. The clever Prometheus had managed to slip her in at the last minute. Perhaps Laughter was there as well, though no one has ever bothered to mention it.

As for Prometheus, he had no hope, and nothing whatever to laugh about. Zeus would have his revenge. His henchmen, Force and Violence, seized Prometheus and brought him before the Lord of the Immortals, who drew himself up to his most godly height and thundered.

"It seems you do not know your place.

What are these runts, this human race,

That you’d defy me, and conspire

To steal my own Olympian fire?

"Fool, hear my judgment, feel my wrath!

Your arrogant and treacherous path

Now plunges downward. Rest assured:

Eternal agony is yours."

Then he ordered Force and Violence to carry Prometheus to the Caucasus, where they bound him to the mountain, in unbreakable chains. Each day an eagle came to tear out his liver, which grew back each night, so that his anguish might never cease.

After some time—between thirty and thirty thousand years—Zeus called Hermes, his messenger, and said, Fate has decreed that one day I shall have a son. When he is grown, he will hurl me from my throne and drive all of us down into exile. Only Prometheus knows who will be the mother of this unnatural creature. Go and bargain with him; if he tells you who she is, I’ll release him.

Hermes hurried to Prometheus. When he saw the Titan’s agony, he was aghast. I bring you wonderful news, he said. Just reveal the name of the woman who will bear this child so feared by Zeus, and you’ll be as free as the bird that tortures you.

But Prometheus laughed and replied, "You do indeed have wonderful news! To learn that I have such power over Zeus!

"Every hour of pain I’ll bless,

And these chains that bind me