D'Aulaires Book of Greek Myths

by Ingri d'Aulaire

  THE CALYDONIAN BOAR HUNT

  MELEAGER of Calydonia was one of the heroes who had sailed with Jason on the Argo. No one could throw a spear with greater skill than he. Still he was powerless to stop a fearful boar that was ravaging his father’s kingdom. The king, one day, had forgotten to include Artemis when he sacrificed to the gods, and in revenge the angry goddess sent the biggest boar ever seen. The boar had tusks as big as an elephant’s and bristles as sharp as steel. Meleager sent for the Argonauts and all the great athletes of Greece and asked them to come to Calydonia and hunt down the monstrous beast. Great glory awaited the one who could destroy the Calydonian Boar.

  Many heroes came to the hunt, and also a girl whose name was Atalanta. She was the fastest runner in Greece and a great huntress as well. When some of the men grumbled at hunting with a girl, Meleager ruled that a girl who could outrun them all would certainly be welcome to join the chase. Still grumbling, the men had to give in.

  For days the heroes feasted at the Calydonian court. Then they offered rich sacrifices to the gods and went off to the hunt. They drove the boar out of its lair, and as it charged, spears and arrows flew wild. When the dust settled, seven men lay dead, some killed by the boar, some by the arrows of their excited companions. Atalanta alone kept a cool head. She ran swiftly hither and thither till she could take good aim, and then she let an arrow fly. The arrow stopped the boar just in time to save the life of a hero who had stumbled in front of the onrushing beast. Quickly Meleager leaped forward and hurled his spear with all his might. The beast rolled over and lay dead.

  Meleager offered the hide and the tusks to Atalanta. These trophies were hers, he said, for it was she who stopped the boar. Again the men protested, for it hurt their pride to see a girl walk off with all the glory. Meleager’s two uncles teased him and said that he must be in love with the girl. “Just wait till your wife finds out about this!” they said, smiling maliciously.

  In a rage Meleager hurled his spear at his taunting uncles, killing them both. When Meleager’s mother heard that her son had slain her two brothers, she, too, flew into a rage. She ran to her treasure chest and took out a half-charred log. It was a magic log that held Meleager’s life.

  This log had been burning in the hearth when Meleager was born. The three Fates had come to see the infant, and the mother had overheard them say it was a pity that the handsome child would die as soon as the log had burned up. Quickly the mother had seized the log, beaten out the flames, and had hidden it among her dearest treasures. Thus Meleager had lived to become a great hero.

  Now in her fury, the queen flung the old dry log into the fire. As it burst into flames and was consumed, Meleager felt a searing pain shoot through his body and fell dead.

  The Calydonian Boar Hunt, which had begun with a feast, ended with a funeral. Only Atalanta was happy. She had won her trophies in competition with the greatest heroes of Greece.

  THE APPLES OF LOVE AND THE APPLE OF DISCORD

  ATALANTA, like Artemis, loved no men, though many men fell in love with her because she was so graceful when she ran.

  When she was born her father had cruelly abandoned her in the wilderness, for he had hoped for a son. But she did not perish, for a she-bear heard her cries and carried her gently to her den, nursed her, and raised her with her cubs.

  Years later, an astonished huntsman saw a girl racing with wild beasts through the woods. He caught her in a snare and brought her home with him. Soon she learned to talk and act like a human, and her foster father was very proud of her fleetness of foot. He took her to athletic games and she won all the races. Her fame spread over Greece, and now her real father proudly reclaimed her as his long-lost daughter. He was a king and a king’s daughter could not be allowed to run about unmarried, so he began to search for a suitable husband for her. But Atalanta did not want a husband. To be left in peace, she said she would only marry a man who could beat her in a running race. However, anyone who raced her and lost would forfeit his life. That would scare all suitors away, she thought. But she was so lovely that many suitors tried their luck anyway and they all lost their lives.

  One day a young prince whose name was Melanion came to court her. He was smarter than the others. He knew that he could not outrun Atalanta, so he sacrificed to Aphrodite and prayed for her help. The goddess of love, who wanted to see all pretty girls married, gave Melanion three golden apples and told him what to do.

  When the race began, Atalanta, certain that she would win, let Melanion have a head start. When she caught up with him, Melanion threw a golden apple at her feet. It glittered so beautifully that she had to stop and pick it up. Soon she overtook him again and Melanion threw the second apple, this time a bit farther away. She left the track and made a dash for the apple. When again Melanion heard her light footsteps behind him, he threw the third apple far into the bushes. Atalanta just had to have that one too, and before she found it, Melanion had crossed the finish line. So he had won her and they were married and Atalanta treasured her golden apples and loved her clever husband dearly. They lived happily for many years and never forgot to honor Aphrodite, who had brought them together. But they did not show proper respect to Zeus and he changed them into a pair of lions for punishment. For the rest of their lives they ran as lions hunting side by side through the woods.

  Peleus, a young king of Thessaly, had Atalanta to thank for his life, for it was he who had stumbled in front of the Calydonian Boar when she stopped it with her arrow. He had also been one of the Argonauts and was one of the greatest athletes in Greece, a favorite of the gods. Zeus gave him a beautiful Nereid, Thetis, for his bride, and all the gods came to the wedding. Only Eris, the spirit of strife, had not been invited. She was furious, and while everybody was making merry she threw a golden apple among the guests and shouted, “The fairest of the goddesses shall have it!”

  Hera, Aphrodite, and Athena rushed to pick it up, each one thinking herself the fairest. It was not a golden apple of love that Eris had thrown, but the apple of discord, and the three goddesses began to quarrel about who should have it. The wedding broke up on a sour note, and in heated dispute the goddesses retired to high Olympus.

  Thetis, the bride, was not happy at being married to a mortal, for her children would not be immortal, as she was. No god had dared to marry her, for an oracle had predicted that she would bear her husband a son who would become greater than his father. Peleus, of course, thought himself the most fortunate of men.

  In time, Thetis bore her husband many children. Trying to make them immortal, she held them over sacred fire to burn away their mortality, but none survived the ordeal. At last, she gave birth to a boy sturdier than the others. He withstood the fire, and she had almost succeeded in making him immortal, when Peleus rushed into her room and snatched the child away. Thetis was so hurt and disappointed that she went back to the sea and never returned. The little boy was brought up by Chiron, the wise centaur, and he grew to be the greatest warrior that Greece has ever known. He was invulnerable except for his heel by which his mother held him over the fire. His name was Achilles.

  Meanwhile discord reigned on Olympus. The three goddesses quarreled on, and none of the gods dared to say which of them was the fairest.

  One day as Zeus looked down on earth, his eyes fell on Paris, a prince of Troy. He was overwhelmingly handsome, as were most men in the royal house of Troy. His grand-uncle Ganymede was such a good-looking boy that Zeus, in the shape of an eagle, had stolen him from his father and carried him to Olympus to be his cupbearer. Anchises, another relative of Paris, was so exceedingly handsome that Aphrodite herself fell in love with him. She took on the shape of a princess so she could marry him and bore him a son whose name was Aeneas.

  But Paris outshone all his relatives, and someone as handsome as he must be the best judge of beauty, thought Zeus. He told Hermes to lead the three goddesses down to Mount Ida near Troy, where Paris was herding the royal sheep and cows, and let Paris judge between them.


  Paris stared in speechless wonder when the three radiant goddesses appeared before him. Hermes gave him the golden apple and told him to award it to the most beautiful of them.

  “Give it to me,” said white-armed Hera, “and all of Asia shall be your kingdom.”

  “Choose me,” said gray-eyed Athena, “and you shall be the wisest of men.”

  “The most beautiful woman on earth shall be yours if you give me the apple,” said Aphrodite.

  Paris was young and loved beauty more than power or wisdom, and so he gave the apple to Aphrodite.

  Aphrodite happily took the golden apple, and did not give it a thought that the most beautiful woman on earth, Helen, Queen of Sparta, already had a husband.

  LOVELY was the song of the Muses about the great beauty of Helen of Troy. She was a daughter of Zeus and her beauty had been a wonder to all from the time she was born. Zeus in the disguise of a swan had flown down from Olympus to court her mother, Leda, and Leda had laid two blue eggs. When the eggs were hatched, Helen and her brother, Pollux, came out from one of them. They were the children of Zeus and immortal. From the other egg came their half sister and brother, Clytemnestra and Castor, children of Leda’s mortal husband, King Tyndareus.

  Castor and Pollux were inseparable from the time they were born, and both grew up to be great athletes. Castor won fame as a tamer of horses, Pollux as a boxer. They protected each other to the last breath. When side by side they fell in battle, Pollux went to Olympus, while Castor, being mortal, was sent to Hades. They missed each other so much that Zeus took pity on them. He allowed Pollux to give his brother half of his immortality and from then on the Heavenly Twins always stayed together, half the time on Olympus, the other half in Hades’ realm.

  The two sisters, Helen and Clytemnestra, grew up at the court of their mortal father, King Tyndareus. Clytemnestra soon was given in marriage to Agamemnon, the great King of Mycenae. But Helen had so many suitors that Tyndareus did not know whom to choose. He feared that if he gave her hand to one the crowd of rejected suitors would fall upon him. His palace was besieged by Helen’s admirers and ever more came. Among them was Odysseus, a wise young prince. When he saw all the suitors, he withdrew his proposal, for he knew that there would always be fighting over a woman as lovely as Helen. Instead he asked for the hand of her gentle cousin, Penelope, and he advised King Tyndareus how to solve his problem. He must ask all the suitors to accept the one he chose for Helen’s husband and swear to stand by and help to win her back should anyone try to steal her. The suitors agreed. Each one hoped that the choice would fall on him, and they all took the oath. Tyndareus then gave Helen’s hand to Menelaus of Sparta, and all the other suitors left without grumbling.

  Helen had been the Queen of Sparta for many happy years and her fame as the most beautiful woman on earth had spread all over, when Aphrodite promised her to Paris. The Trojans begged Paris to forget Aphrodite’s promise, or a terrible misfortune would surely befall them. But Paris ignored their warnings and sailed across the Aegean Sea, to steal Helen from King Menelaus and bring her back to Troy.

  Helen sat serene and happy, surrounded by her ladies, weaving and sewing her finest wools, when Paris entered the palace in Sparta. Just as she looked up and saw him, Eros shot an arrow of love into her heart. She gathered her treasures without hesitation and eloped with him for Troy.

  A brisk wind carried them out to sea, but before they had sailed far, the wine-dark waters grew glassy and calm, and Nereus, the kind old man of the sea, rose from the depths. He warned them to return or dire woe would befall them and their kin. But Helen and Paris had eyes and ears only for each other and did not hear his warning.

  They landed in Troy and the Trojans received her with great joy, proud that the most beautiful woman on earth was now Helen of Troy.

  But Menelaus was not a man to stand idly by, whether or not his queen had been promised to Paris by a goddess. He reminded Helen’s old suitors of their oath. They joined him with all their warriors, and it was not long before a huge Greek fleet arrived in Troy to fetch Helen back to Sparta. The Trojans refused to give Helen up, and Troy was hard to conquer, for it was surrounded by a high wall built by Apollo and Poseidon. After long talks, it was decided that Paris and Menelaus should fight in single combat and Helen would go to the winner. Paris was no warrior. He preferred to rest on silken pillows and gaze into Helen’s beautiful eyes. But Aphrodite came to his rescue and hid him in a cloud and since Menelaus could not find his opponent, the duel was undecided. Then the two armies clashed together.

  For ten long years, the Greeks and the Trojans fought over Helen. The gods watched with great interest and even took part in the fighting themselves. Hera, angry with Paris for not giving the apple to her, fought for the Greeks. Wise and just Athena was also annoyed with Paris, so even though she was protectress of Troy, she fought for the Greeks. Ares fought wherever the battle was hottest, and when he himself was wounded, he frightened both armies with his howls. Sweet Aphrodite herself entered the raging battle to help her darling Paris and she also was wounded. “Enough!” called Zeus, and he ordered all the gods to withdraw from the battle. They sat on the walls of Troy and watched the mortals decide the outcome for themselves.

  Many great heroes fell on both sides, but the Greeks could not storm the mighty walls of Troy and the Trojans could not put the Greeks to flight as long as Achilles, the invulnerable son of Thetis, fought for them. Though Paris was no great marksman, fate had chosen him to slay the great hero Achilles. Apollo, unseen by the other gods, ran to Paris’s side and guided his hand as he drew taut his bow. The arrow struck Achilles in the heel, his only vulnerable spot. Mortally wounded, he fell to the ground. The Greeks mourned greatly the loss of their hero Achilles, and took their revenge on Paris. He fell, pierced by one of the poisoned arrows that Heracles had given to Philoctetes.

  Shortly afterward, the Greeks broke camp, boarded their ships, and sailed away. They left on the shore a large wooden horse. The Trojans thought they had finally routed the Greeks, and in triumph, they pulled the horse into their city as a trophy. But the horse was hollow and filled with Greek warriors. In the dark of the night, they crept out and opened wide the city gates. The wily Greeks had not left, but had been hiding behind an island. Now they came pouring into the city and proud Troy was destroyed.

  Helen was brought back to Sparta in triumph to sit among her ladies as lovely as ever, embroidering in lavender and purple threads on the finest wools.

  Of the royal house of Troy no one but Aphrodite’s son Aeneas, his father, and his young son remained. The goddess returned to take them out of the smoking ruins and lead them to safety.

  Aeneas wandered from land to land, till at last he came to Italy, where he founded a kingdom. The gods looked on him with favor, for it was fated that his descendants should build the mighty city of Rome.

  So it came to pass! The Romans built huge temples to the Olympian gods, not so beautiful as the Greek ones, but much more luxurious, and the glory of the gods became greater than ever. They were given Roman names instead of their Greek ones, but they were still the same gods and it is under their Roman names that we know them best today.

  EVERYTHING must come to an end, and so did the rule of Zeus and the other Olympian gods. All that is left of their glory on earth are broken temples and noble statues. Also the Muses fell silent, but their songs live on to this very day, and the constellations put up by the gods still glitter on the dark blue vault of the sky.

  AFTERWORD

  When Ingri and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire were first approached by Peggy Lesser, their editor at Doubleday, about creating a book on classical Greek mythology for young people, the happy thought was that they might collaborate with the writer Robert Graves. The famous poet, novelist, critic, and scholar had drawn international acclaim for two of his books about the mythologies of the ancient world—The White Goddess (1948) and The Greek Myths (1955).

  The d’Aulaires, too, were fascinated wi
th mythology and its close relative, folklore. Elements of folklore and legend had appeared in a number of the books they had written and illustrated during the 1930s and ’40s, especially works like Leif the Lucky and others that drew on traditional customs and lore of Scandinavian culture. They had also begun what would become a series of picture book biographies of iconic American heroes, such as George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and Christopher Columbus.

  By the late 1950s, the d’Aulaires had twenty-three books to their credit, and they were eager to discuss the idea of a collection of Greek myths with Graves. Like Graves, they were well known, though they occupied a different, smaller orbit—the American children’s book world. They had received the prestigious Caldecott Medal in 1940 for their biography of Abraham Lincoln, and their other luminous picture books were highly praised. Their unique artistic style was a blend of modern abstract images and traditional folk motifs, and their innovative use of color lithography gave their pictures a richly textured hand-drawn look.

  An early cover sketch. Even though the d’Aulaires replaced Prometheus with Phaëthon on the final cover, the basic elements were already in place: large type on top, a main central image, and a band of figures across the bottom. This sketch of Prometheus found its way into the final book in the image on page 73.

  Peggy Lesser’s pitch to the d’Aulaires about collaborating with Graves had been extravagantly optimistic. When the d’Aulaires contacted him about the project in March 1957, they quoted her as saying “the book would be a classic that would outlive Hawthorne’s myths in no uncertain terms. In fact, we suspect it would keep you all comfortably in your old age.” (Lesser was referring to Nathaniel Hawthorne’s pioneering collection of Greek myths, the 1851 volume A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys.)