Crete

*I finished Madeline Miller's gripping novel Crete yesterday. The novel's well-imagined plot was compelling; it was extraordinarily well-voiced, attuned to the rhythms, constructs, and themes of the epic tradition, and perfectly paced and rendered. A wonderful book. It also reminded me of a set of poems that I worked on last fall about the central characters of Crete. So here are Minos, the Minotaur, Theseus, and Ariadne, reimagined in our unfinished new world. 

“Let us wander forever / in the labyrinths of our self-esteem.” 

(Wendell Berry, “Let Us Pledge”)

I. Minos

It is easy to sit in judgement

over a world in which power

& privilege dictate that some-

one else’s suffering could 

always have been avoided

if only they saw it from your

hallowed (ad)vantage point.

It is infinitely more difficult

to climb down from the tower 

to gain the view from below,

to foot the rocky path,

to take no step for granted

knowing at any point 

ignorance of the rules

might trigger a fall,

might shift the weight

in such a way that the

whole earth breaks, toppling

tower and maze and temple

into a cruel sea of

self-doubt and fear of erasure.

II. The Minotaur

In the center of it all,

a heart beats in an

unfit body: half-this,

half-that, all hunger.

Even the heavy horns

point in divergent

directions and turning—

dizzying even desire

into a vortex of 

suffering, regret,

and satisfaction.

III. Theseus

Privilege is being

lost at birth and

finding out later

that your birthright

entitled you to the

throne of a kingdom

that you don’t even

want and whose

crown you can 

afford to give away

in the name of 

aristocracy.

IV. Ariadne

When it is all said and done,

it would have been better

to keep the thread for

yourself, weave a spider-

like web for a home,

render the minotaur’s

blood into ink, 

its hide into parchment,

and write your own myth,

sew it together into

a bible of reasons

to mistrust the gods,

or a manual of self-help 

for abandoned heroes

whose savior-women

and wounded sirens

decided to spend their

time serving themselves

instead of waiting to be

rescued, deceived, or

destroyed.