It's all Greek to me! Warriors, monsters and lovers

HANNAH SMITH explores the ancient Greek foundations of some of our favourite screen and stage stories

Currently the ideal holiday destination for recreating your favourite scenes from Mamma Mia, Greece was once considered the centre of the modern world. The birthplace of democracy, the Olympic Games, and even the alarm clock, remnants of this ancient civilisation can still be found all over western society three thousand years later – and what thanks do we give? Well, perhaps we’re not so grateful for the latter. But I wonder if you even realise the extent to which the ancient Greeks have influenced our culture? From Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. If you join me on this short Odyssey, I’ll bet you know more Greek mythology than you think.

The Disneyfication of Hercules

Disney’s 1997 classic Hercules could possibly be the first introduction many people have to the world of mythology. The story has unquestionably been ‘Disneyfied’ for a younger audience but the ancient foundations are still there if you look hard enough.

For starters, Hercules is the Roman equivalent of the Greek demigod, Heracles - son of Zeus and the mortal Alcmene, who features in the works of many contemporary authors, but survived predominantly through oral tradition, according to the writer Michael Huber (2009). But this wasn’t the name he was born with. Heracles, stemming from Hera – Goddess of Marriage – and the Greek word ‘kleos’ – meaning glory – was adopted only after achieving his warrior status. Although, contrary to what Disney would have us believe, the dedication to Hera wasn’t attributed to their loving relationship.

Disney's Hera and Hercules

Hera was vengeful and vindictive, but who wouldn’t be when married to someone like Zeus? Zeus was openly disloyal, engaging in affairs with an inconceivable number of other goddesses, nymphs, and mortal women, often resulting in children. Such was the case with Alcmene. You might recognise Alcmene from her role in the Disney adaptation as Hercules’ adoptive mother, along with her mythologically accurate husband, Amphitryon. But they were no humble farmers. According to Apollodorus’ Bibliotheca, the two were Mycenaean royalty. How’s that for zero to hero! As any wife would be, Hera wasn’t best pleased with her husband’s infidelity and, since she couldn’t retaliate directly, aimed her wrath instead at the women and children. One such example was the maddened rage she imbued in Heracles, which prompted him to slaughter his wife (still called Megara, but Theban princess rather than servant of Hades) and children. Disney got one thing right, at least - no man is worth the aggravation.

Coming-of-age narrative

The animation favours a coming-of-age narrative - seeing Hercules come into his own as a hero - over the original twelve labours, but Disney doesn’t ignore them completely. Hercules’ first battle is against the Lernaean Hydra – compliant with Heracles’ second trial – and then proceeds to face the Nemean lion, Erymanthian boar, and Stymphalian birds (albeit throughout musical montage).

Despite their changes, Disney does absolve Hercules of repenting for something that was entirely Zeus’s fault. If I were Hera, I would have just settled for divorce, but who am I to judge? I’ll leave that to Themis – Goddess of Justice, who ironically also had an affair with Zeus… On second thoughts, maybe Hera wasn’t so unhinged after all.

Beauty and the Beast - A Tale as Old as Time

We continue with another Disney classic - the 1991 adaptation of Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve’s beloved 1756 fairytale, Beauty and the Beast, which originated in the myth of Eros and Psyche. When they say “a tale as old as time”, they really mean a tale as old as Ancient Greece.

Eros and Psyche

In the Greek original, Psyche is sent to live with Eros (Cupid to the Romans), who she assumes to be beastly because of his concealed appearance, as a punishment for her beauty from the jealous Aphrodite. As if the Goddess of Love had anything to be threatened by. But the gods are nothing if not petty. Beauty, on the other hand, is condemned to be the Beast’s prisoner as punishment for her father’s attempted theft. Both heroines eventually grow to love their keepers, but this is where the stories diverge.

Psyche goes on to complete a series of trials to prove herself worthy, while Beauty merely has to confess her love to earn her happily-ever-after. I’d argue Psyche should be mad about this grievance, but she got to spend the rest of her life married to a god, so I think she’d agree everything worked out for the best.

Romeo and Juliet - A Pair of Star-Crossed Lovers

Shakespeare’s 1597 tragedy, Romeo and Juliet, features one of the most famous love stories, their story having been retold countless times. But did you know the Bard wasn’t the creator of this ‘star-crossed’ trope? It takes its inspiration from Pyramus and Thisbe of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, (a version of which is also featured as a play within a play in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream), originally published in 8AD, in which the lovers belonged to the rival houses of Babylon in Southern Mesopotamia.

Pyramus and Thisbe

Like the Montagues and Capulets of Verona, Pyramus and Thisbe were forbidden to marry, so made plans to elope in secret under an old mulberry tree. However, when Thisbe arrived, she was forced to flee from a feasting lioness, losing her cloak in the process. Pyramus, therefore, found her cloak in the jaws of the blood-smeared predator and, mistaking Thisbe for its prey, fell on his own sword. Returning to the sight of his body, Thisbe stabbed herself with the same sword, reuniting the two in death. The names and circumstances may have changed, but the frustration remains the same. Just as [spoiler alert!] Romeo impulsively swallowed poison at the sight of Juliet’s comatose body – how hard would it have been for Pyramus to check his facts before jumping the gun? Or sword, in this case. At least Romeo had a corpse to be fooled by. What was Pyramus’s excuse?  

Enduring myths

What is it about these myths that make them so inspiring and enduring?

Well, they appeal to our own lived experiences. Okay, not many of us can say we’ve slayed a gorgon, but Medusa has become a symbol of empowerment for many victims of sexual assault (Henderson, 2022). And fair enough, I doubt anyone reading this has unleashed a box of evil on the world (although, correct me if I’m wrong), but Pandora’s curiosity is a trait we can all relate to. It comes as no surprise that – like the Gods of Olympus themselves – these stories shall live on.

Everlasting.

Immortal.

Written by HANNAH SMITH (Creative Writing with History student, University of Chester, UK)