P is for Pandora

         Welcome to the April A to Z Blog Challenge!  Everyone else is almost caught up to me now, but if you’re looking for the officially scheduled letter of the day, you can find my Post for O here.

        (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my immanent collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  Three more days until release!  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        The Greek myth of Pandora and her “box” of all the evils in the world is quite famous, but in case you want a refresher you can read a summary here (or read the whole Wikipedia article, because there’s no one comprehensive canon version of the story).  In Hesiod’s frankly misogynistic tale, woman and her “box” was created for the express purpose of punishing men for stealing fire from the gods.  But as an actual woman, I deny that I am a force of pure evil, and instead look for other ways to interpret the story.  Why is it Pandora’s fault the gods were trying to squelch humanity?  And what’s so bad about curiosity anyway?

        Men told stories about Pandora, how she was a curse upon them, full of deceit and shamelessness and, worst of all, curiosity.  Such men, men who can look upon a fellow being of beauty and persistence and intelligence and yet see nothing but evil... such men do not know me.  But Pandora knew me, and I will tell you the part of her tale that those cold and bitter men could never see or understand.

        You have heard of the large clay jar she was given, a “gift” she was not to open.  You have heard that through her all-consuming curiosity she was tempted to disobedience and opened the jar.  And you have heard of the plagues that emerged: war, famine, sickness, and the whole host of evils with which humanity is tormented.  This is all true enough, but let us consider this gift, and the spirit of one who would open its lid despite the warning.

        I was there with her, sharing her delight in the surprise of a gift, admiring the workmanship and adornment of the clay jar, wondering what magical marvel might be within.  What miser would take a gift and bury it away, hoarding it for herself?  And what cynic would leap to the assumption that a gift from heaven would be a cruel, vindictive joke?  Pandora wanted nothing more than to share her delight, to share her gift, with all the people.  In curiosity, yes, and in generosity, too, she lifted the lid and opened the jar, and the bright smile died from her face…

        I think we all know what happens immediately next, but after that?  (And just who is the narrator, anyway?)  You don’t have to wait to get your own copy of my book before you can read the whole story, however.  It was originally published in Friends Journal and is available to read on-line here.  Please do read it if you’re feeling in need of a little comfort today.

        The conventional moral of Pandora is that curiosity killed the cat (and that women are the root of all evil, of course).  But the moral I’m pushing today is that curiosity can actually be a powerful force for good.

        True confession time: are you a nosy snoop?  (You might be able to guess that I kind of am!)

        And here’s another plug for Strong Women-Strange Worlds, a series of FREE on-line author reading events open to anyone with an internet connection.  At each event six authors of diverse speculative fiction share 8-minute excerpts from their work, offering you a tasting menu of imaginative delight.  I’ll be one of the six authors reading on May 1, and I’ll be sharing a little something from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, so register now and come hear me read!  Aren’t you at least a little curious?

 

[Picture: Pandora Dreaming, wood block print with watercolor by AEGNydam, 2005 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]