What's in a Name? The Original Phaedra

Let's face it, that Phaedra chick was a downer. Spoiled, self-indulgent, selfish, and all sorts of s-words that all focus down to one very important point: no one really wants to be called a Phaedra. Most people don't really know her story all that well, so let's talk through it.

You remember the Minotaur, right? That's a figure that most people can remember through the hazy memories of seventh-grade mythological studies. A big, muscly man mixed with bull, set loose in a big maze. Liked to eat people, seeing as how those pesky people on Crete didn't bother to cater him food.

The Minotaur is very engaged in his life of wandering the labyrinth (sans David Bowie), finding food where he can, when Theseus shows up. Big heroic figure. Theseus defeats the Minotaur with his trusty sword, and manages to find his way back out again using a ball of yarn/string. (we'll discuss all the stories involving magical string/yarn at some point, if I remember to do enough research through my bookcases, but there are a lot. Trust me. Most of the time, the ball is enchanted to help you always find your way back to where you started from.) Theseus leaves Crete, a big hero. He goes off and marries Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. They have a son, Hippolytus.

Fast forward a few years - at least 15, but let's say 18 so I don't cringe too much with what's coming. Hippolyta is dead, and Theseus needs a new wife. He decides to return to the isle of Crete, and here's where we find Phaedra. Now, Phaedra isn't exactly mentioned in the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. The Magical Helping Princess in that story is her older sister, Ariadne. Nonetheless, now the tables are turned - Ariadne is the invisible sister, and Theseus trots off with his shiny new bride, Phaedra. Happy ending, right? This is the point that most fairy tales stop, but not this one. This isn't a fairy tale, after all. Let's follow this tragedy coined by Euripides to its end.

Theseus, Phaedra, and Hippolytus are all blissfully living together outside of Athens as one big happy family. Hippolytus is a relatively typical youth. He hunts, he wrestles, and he generally does what most young men of his age do - except for the fact that he's dedicated himself to Artemis, the virgin goddess. This is the source of a lot of his control. He prides himself on being reserved, dignified, and unattached.

Phaedra, on the other hand... well, that lady is a piece of work. As mentioned above, she's indulged, spoiled, and generally used to getting every whim of hers fulfilled. Her stepson is such a fine example of manhood, discipline, restraint, and chiseled Greek physique that she simply cannot help herself; she falls madly, completely, and despicably in love with him. Theseus leaves on a trip, and she does what any self-respecting noble Greek lady would do - sends a slave with a note reading, "Phaedra loves Hippolytus. Will you go out with her? Y/N. Circle one." Hippolytus reacts as any virginity-obsessed teenager would; he runs away into the woods, leaving that poor slave to play messenger to the fact that Hippolytus is disgusted by the idea of having an affair with his own stepmother.

Here's where a modern intermission would appear in the play. Go ahead, go take a break. Get yourself a tasty beverage and relax, 'cause here's where all the really interesting stuff happens.

The slave reappears, with startling news. Phaedra has hanged herself! Not only that, but stepmama dearest has left a note telling the world that she is killing herself out of shame, for Hippolytus has raped her. Oh, woe. Sorrowful day.

What a drama queen.

Nonetheless, her string of lies takes fertile root in the household. Theseus comes home to find Phaedra dead, and upon reading the note, he seethes with an understandable rage. Hippolytus comes home from the woods, expecting everything to have blown over, and instead is greeted with accusations. Hippolytus knows what went on, but decides to take the higher path and says absolutely nothing. I cannot tell you exactly why he does this to himself, but that's what he does. Theseus curses Hippolytus to the heavens, and more importantly, to the seas. He asks Poseidon to kill Hippolytus. Poseidon, in all of his wisdom, sends a giant wave to drown Hippolytus.

There's a moral shoehorned into the ending, of course - Theseus realizes that he shouldn't have been so quick to judge, that maybe he should have done some fact searching before asking a god to kill his only progeny; but hey, it's done now. Can't undo what has been done.

So there's the story of Phaedra for you. The only thing that I really can take away from that one is the more modern 'bitches be crazy.'

All of this is really a long-winded explanation for how the name I use over on a forum has become what I'm using now - Phaedraphobia. Let's face it, we all have our material and indulgent sides. We all struggle with the wants sometimes, and there are situations where we all have trouble saying no. I sometimes have more trouble than most. My expensive taste is a problem, and I go through phases. I train myself to ignore that side of me for long periods of time, and then all of a sudden it's like a loose wire jiggles back into place and my 'wants' flicker back to life. I can't tell you exactly what this blog is going to be, but I guarantee that sometimes it will deal with me suffering from a big case of the wants. Sometimes, it will deal with me and my minor nail polish obsession. Baking. Music. Let's face it, this will probably be a little bit of everything.

But not too much. After all, I need to keep that little spoiled Phaedra inside of me as far away as possible.