The Greek gods were an interesting lot. These were immortal beings who ruled over the land of Greece and possessed almost unlimited power. At the same time, they often acted all too human. They fell in love, enjoyed celebrating, and, as many souls lingering in Hades can attest, they all had tempers.
Every now and then the gods would get angry. Rather than taking a deep breath, having a heart-felt conversation with their psychiatrist or trying to solve their problems using constructive methods, the gods all too often unleashed terrible punishments on those unlucky humans who got in their way.
Let’s just say that when a human angered a Greek god, the skies would darken, the flowers hid their faces, even the great mountains quivered and that human didn’t have a prayer in the world.
One of the most powerful deities in the extended Olympian family was grey-eyed Athena, the beautiful goddess of wisdom, handicrafts and agriculture. On her better days, she was known for her love of the arts and for teaching the humans important crafts and agriculture techniques. However, those grey eyes could get very dark, and Athena was one of the more fearsome fighters. One might imagine some of her mood swings stemming from a violent childhood which involved her father Zeus, king of the Greek gods, swallowing her mother and Athena herself bursting from his head in full armor. Yes, the gods had many family issues that probably could have benefited from some therapy – possibly involving hitting each other with foam bats.
That said, Athena was usually in a congenial mood, and often spent her days assisting whatever current Greek hero was on a perilous and seemingly impossible mission to conquer whatever terrible beast happened to be plaguing the land (see Bellerophon and Persues). However, Athena could mete out death and destruction as well as the next god. One girl in particular earned her place in Greek lore when she scorned Athena and earned a terrible punishment. This is the story of Arachne.
Long ago, when the world was still young and gods roamed both the skies and the earth and enjoyed involving themselves in human affairs, there came talk of a beautiful peasant girl with an extraordinary talent on the loom. It was said that when she wove an image of the ocean, the waves would seemingly heave off the fabric. When she wove a storm, rainwater dripped from her wool and the winds buffeted those who watched.
This girl’s name was Arachne, and all day her hands danced across her loom, to the awe of onlookers. At night, when finally her eyes blurred, and it became too dark to go on, still her hands ached to spin. As Arachne’s talent grew, so to did her reputation, and soon travelers from near and far came to her small dwelling to watch and admire her work.
Arachne enjoyed the attention and praise. As time passed, and her skill grew so that no one could match her, Arachne’s heart became proud and she began to believe that she was a greater weaver than even mighty Athena – the great goddess who had invented the loom and taught the humans its power.
Well, Arachne had no qualms about sharing this new revelation. Day after day, she bragged of how she could outmatch the goddess on the loom. Now, one might assume that as an all-powerful goddess such as Athena would have better things to do than smite insignificant and rude humans. However, the Greek gods were quite sensitive when it came to anyone questioning their supremacy. Athena, goddess of wisdom that she was, could not bear to hear Arachne’s boasts or witness the adulation she cultivated.
The goddess decided to confront the young upstart and traveled down to earth. Disguised as an old woman, she watched Arachne weave. When the old woman complimented Arachne and suggested the girl pay homage to Athena, inventor of the loom, the girl curled her lips and laughed. “Pay homage? I need learn nothing from Athena. She should pay homage to me, and perhaps if I am feeling generous, I should give her a lesson or two.”
Well, you can imagine how this went over with Athena. She shed her rags and stood before the girl in all her immortal glory. With her grey eyes flashing and voice booming across the hills, Athena challenged Arachne to a weaving competition. “If you be so convinced your skill is greater than mine, let your life hang in your hands to prove it,” she said. Arachne trembled at the sight of the great goddess, and her heart beat fast in her chest, yet she stood her ground and accepted the challenge.
On a beautiful hillside, a huge crowd gathered to witness the competition. The girl and goddess sat side by side, each in front of a loom with a huge array of skeins of threads at their feet. As the people watched to see if the young girl could truly match the goddess, Arachne carefully chose her first strand and began to weave. Her hands danced across the loom, and her fingers were brushes painting a tale of the gods’ silliness. She wove the great god Zeus, king of gods, consumed by lust and pursuing mortal women as his wife, Hera, raved. She wove tales of Aphrodite’s cruel tricks, Ares’s arrogance and finally, she told the story of Prometheus, the kind titan, sentenced to eternal punishment by Zeus for helping the human race. As the people watched, they laughed at the tales Arachne told and saw their gods as childish and trivial beings offending by the smallest slight and often cruel and malicious to those who crossed them.
For her part, Athena wove a different story. The goddess scorned the threads at her feet, and instead plucked colors from the sky, the mountains, the vibrant valley itself. She even reached up and cupped a few dazzling stars in her hands. She painted the story of how the Olympian gods, led by Zeus, had fought and defeated the titans to become the supreme rulers of Greece. The gods were depicted as fearsome beings, full of mighty power. They were beautiful and glorious, and the light of the stars made them glow so that the onlookers had to shield their eyes. The crowd oohed and ahhed and began to quake. Soon, each and every onlooker fell to their knees overcome with fear and shamed for their admiration of Arachne.
As she watched her opponent, Arachne came to see that her simple wool could not compete with the magic of the goddess. Realizing that she had been bested, Arachne could no longer look at the silly stories she had woven. Just as Athena finished her piece, Arachne jumped up and ran away into the woods. Alone in the forest, she wept torrents of tears, and, unable to bear the knowledge that she was only second best, hung herself from a tree branch.
Athena soon found the girl, and as a final revenge cast a spell upon her. Arachne shrank. Her beautiful skin turned black and hairy, and long spindly legs protruded from her body. Athena had created the first spider. “Since you are such a master of weaving, you shall henceforth spend all the rest of your days doing so. When you and your children are looked upon, it shall be remembered what happens to those who do not honor the gods.” True to Athena’s curse, Arachne spent the rest of her life spinning intricate webs as do her children to this day. Sometimes, in the early morning, when these webs shine with dew, it almost seems as if they are filled with the bitter tears of a young girl who once thought she could match a goddess
