A stub idea to be updated and expanded.
Rick Riordan's Aunty Em is a modernized Medusa. And Percy perpetrates her decapitation in an adapted mode, updated to the narrative moment.
To be clear, Riordan's Percy sees his serpentine foe in a "green gazing ball" procured by Annabeth from among the merchandise in Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium. The Emporium is described as one of those roadside businesses that sell garden gnomes and other cement statuary you might put in your garden. And Aunty Em, it turns out, has been petrifying her clientele for years. Her gaze might turn Percy and Annabeth into similar statuary, if they aren't careful. However, Annabeth has the wherewithal to turn Percy instead into a hero and rid their world of yet one more mythological villain. (PJ:LT 168-185)
Medusa's gaze, if you didn't know, turns people into stone. It has done for ages. And gazing balls for ages have been amusing folks with convectional views of their world. If you knew a menacing snake was creeping up on you from behind, you might see its reflection in a gazing ball. The gazing ball would serve the same function as the shield that Perseus used in classical myth. Athena gave that to the hero so that he could track Medusa's moves without technically looking at her or catching her stony gaze.
Chris Columbus adapted the Riordan novel in the film Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief (2010), screenplay by Craig Titley. [photo from IMDB courtesy of Fox Film Corp] Things play out a little differently in the cinematic adaptation. One key difference is the film's showing the fateful moment of the decapitation from the spectator's POV. Medusa stands stone-still gazing at the reflection of Percy approaching in the moment before her own decapitation. The script really climaxed in Medusa's statement "Son of Poseidon, I used to date your Daddy." [YouTube link: https://youtu.be/K-Y4q2m9OFE] Percy's ingenious use of the shiny back of an iPhone is more than just gratuitous product placement. Ownership of the gag — one-upping Riordan — belongs perhaps to Columbus, perhaps to Titley. But it's certainly part of the cinematic adaptation and not Riordan's doing.
Why this all matters:
Analysis of Riordan's adaptation should deal with the text that Riordan wrote. That adaptation of the Medusa/Perseus myth is distinct from Columbus' cinematic adaptation of Riordan's text. Without passing judgment on the relative merits of either — each is very clever —adaptation of Perseus/Medusa, the present post strives merely to document my belief that analysis should distinguish between Riordan's gazing-ball and Columbus' iPhone as adaptations of the shield Perseus traditionally uses to survive.
Those who would write about such adaptations need to distinguish cleanly between the phased adaptations, i.e. myth-novel-cinema, and not conflate them. This is not always easily done.
Usages of classical mythology are instances where narratives refer to familiar Greek and Roman myths through a sort of shorthand. Such usages, by my narrow definition, are not archetypal narratives but rather deliberate applications, where the modern artist overtly alludes to the classical narrative.
Saturday, December 15, 2018
Monday, December 3, 2018
Osamu Tezuka Apollo
O. Tezuka, Apollo's Song (1970/2007) |
Tezuka was one of the most creative and most instrumental practitioners of Japanese manga. Topics and narrative modes applied in his graphic novels manifest astonishing diversity throughout the 20th Century, from the rise of Hitler until the artist's death in 1989. Originally serialized in Japanese as Aporo No Uta in Shukan Shonen Kingu, Shonen Gahosha, Apollo's Song was translated into English in 2007.
It's hard to surmise from reading Apollo's Song that the artist is not aware of the Orpheus myth. The protagonist is fated to cyclical love and loss, ever closer to attaining real love. The cover art suggests the famous moment in Camus' Orfeo Negro (1960) when Orpheus ascends to the favelas with the limp corpse of Eurydice in his arms. Shogo grapples with his love for Hiromi throughout and ultimately achieves unity with her only in experiencing a hellish death to be with her. Shogo and the Hiromi surrogates perish recurrently and experience resurrection in new stories. Themes of joint suicide, questions about why violence so often interferes with love, lovers who lose their beloved, and human search for the meaning of true love crisscross Tezuka's tale.
Athena is never clearly identified by name in Apollo's Song. Her identity is, however, unmistakable. Phidias' classical masterpiece of Athena Parthenos, ensconced in the naos of the Parthenon (the iconic sculpture portrayed in mirror image in English translation) — speaks an oracle to Shogo in Chapter 1 (of 5). Her utterance is as the Divine would speak: "Thou shalt love one woman again and again, but before the two are united in love, one shall perish. Even in death, thou shalt be reborn, to undergo yet another trial of love." (1.41) Then, the manga's final scene, its epilogue centers on Shogo's return to the unnamed Parthenos to learn that "Thou shalt see [Hiromi] again soon. In every era, in every world, she shall await thee." As Hiromi rises naked from behind Athena's panoply and exits the Parthenon into the light where Shogo has gone, Tezuka's omniscient narrator instructs that "Nature divides us into male and female... We come together and create offspring for posterity..." (2.254-57) Athena, the virginal goddess, therefore directs both Shogo's fate and the eternal prospects of human procreation. In her management of a hero's sexual destiny, Tezuka's mythmaking has contrived a remarkable new role for Athena Parthenos.
O. Tezuka, Apollo's Song (1970/2007) |
Pursuit in water, Apollo's Song 2.205 |
traditional Apollo's Song 2.203 |
Shogo as fallen Icarus, Apollo's Song 1.239 |
Lefty Athena, Apollo's Song 1.23; the Japanese original mirrors this, with Nike extended in the right hand. |
Osamu Tezuka, story of Daphne and Apollo told within Apollo's Song, manga, graphic novel 1970 and 2007 — originally serialized in Japanese as Aporo No Uta in Shukan Shonen Kingu, Shonen Gahosha, and translated by Camillia Nieh — New York, Vertical.
Hiromi is advised by the Doctor on 2.199 that the only way to avoid Shogo's infatuation with her — "Then become a laurel tree.... Do[n't] you know the Greek myth about the girl Daphne?" The narrative then unfolds along the lines of Ovid's telling, but with subtle divergences worth exploring.
Tezuka's greater narrative in this manga treats the development of Shogo from sociopath to lover. The whole stands very interestingly as an adaptation or reception of the myth of Orpheus, with Shogo's love and loss of Hiromi never further than arm's reach from the plight of Eurydice and Orpheus. Yet, Tezuka's work is hardly a pastiche of the Eurydice narrative.
http://ogcma.byu.edu/Daphne2.0003_Tezuka.htm
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