TGF Rerun — Transgenderism In Greek Mythology
This is a TGForum Rerun. It first appeared in TGF in 1997.
When you are wrapped in the motherly embrace of a support group, it may be difficult to realize that there are those who do not love transgenders. They see us as degenerate byproducts of an unhealthy modern society, using the latest textile and chemical technology to disguise ourselves, sometimes even using advanced medical technology to transform ourselves into beings that we were not born to be. There is of course nothing inherently modern about either transgenderism or the societies in which TGs can be found. With only a modest effort, we can find our counterparts in long-dead but greatly admired ancient cultures. All we need is an appropriate window to the past through which to see them. Mythology is one such window. Looking through it, we can discern something of ancient life and its troubles and triumphs. We can see transgenderism there.
As a human condition, transgenderism is probably as old as the human race. As an element of Greek mythology, it is surely older than written literature. The Greek myths existed in oral form for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years before they were written down some three millennia ago. In this four-part article, I have summarized several TG-related stories from Greek and Roman mythology. I have taken these stories from three sources: Edith Hamilton’s Mythology, Robert Graves’ The Greek Myths, and Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Edith Hamilton observed in Mythology that a myth is “an explanation of something in nature . . . Myths are early science, the result of men’s first trying to explain what they saw around them.” In our times, mythology and modern science offer complementary insights into the often inexplicable universe we live in, varying greatly in their approaches but not in their objectives.
Transvestism: The Power of Disguise
In mythology, transsexual metamorphosis is the province of the gods and beyond the hope of most mortals. Humans, however, have the power of disguise; with no help from the gods, they can appear to change gender. When heroes and heroines of modern literature engage in crossdressing, they are usually in pursuit of some goal that, for plot reasons, can’t be achieved in some other way-that is, crossdressing itself is seldom the objective of the act. The fictional crossdresser may seek (for example) to be near the object of his or her affections or to avoid through disguise some deadly peril. The same holds true for the intrepid crossdressers of Greek mythology. Edith Hamilton pointed out that “there are many so-called myths that explain nothing at all. These tales are pure entertainment…”
On the surface, crossdressing myths usually appear to be entertainments, even though they are almost certainly based on real human behavior. Graves asserts that “[a] large part of Greek myth is politico-religious history.” Over a long period of time (he tells us), a matriarchal society that had worshipped a Mother-goddess was replaced by a patriarchal society and the worship of a council of twelve gods and goddesses who lived on the summit of Mount Olympus. The council was originally evenly divided between male and female deities and co-ruled by Zeus and his wife, Hera (presumably reflecting an uneasy balance between the old matriarchy and the ascendant patriarchy). Eventually, however, Zeus became the undisputed head of the council and the wine god Dionysus replaced the goddess of the hearth, Hestia, to assure a male majority on the council. Down among the mortals, according to Graves, ritual crossdressing occurred during the long transition from matriarchy to patriarchy as “the king deputized for the Queen at many sacred functions, dressed in her robes, wore false breasts, borrowed her lunar axe as a symbol of power, and even took over from her the magical art of rainmaking.”
Achilles
Achilles, the great warrior who fell at the siege of Troy, was the son of King Peleus and the sea-nymph Thetis. When the Trojan War began, Thetis knew that there were two possible fates for her son: to go to war and die gloriously in battle, or to remain in Greece and live a long if unspectacular life. She decided to keep him from the fighting. Disguising him as a girl, she sent him to live among the maidens at the court of Lycomedes, ruler of the island kingdom of Scyros. In Graves’ telling of the story, Achilles was a heterosexual crossdresser. He had an affair with the king’s daughter Deidameia, who subsequently bore him a son. The powers-that-were in Bronze Age Greece wanted Achilles to join them in their attack on Troy and delegated the warrior chieftains Odysseus, Nestor, and Ajax to find him. They came to Lycomedes’ palace in the guise of peddlers and laid out an array of goods, mostly women’s clothing and jewelry but with a few weapons included. As the palace maidens gathered around the display, Odysseus had a trumpet sounded, as if warning of an attack. One of the girls immediately stripped to the waist and took up a sword and shield — she was, of course, Achilles, who quickly allowed herself (now himself) to be persuaded to lead the Myrmidons into battle against Troy. Thetis’s fears were realized; Achilles died in battle outside the walls of Troy. Graves, citing Strabo, says that a temple sacred to Achilles was erected in the village of Achilleum, near Troy. The temple’s statue of Achilles wore a woman’s earring.
Dionysus
Dionysus (or Bacchus), the god of wine, was the son of Zeus and the mortal Theban princess Semele. He was the only Olympian deity to have a mortal parent. To protect Dionysus from Hera’s not unjustified wrath, Zeus placed him under Persephone’s care. Persephone then persuaded King Athamas of Orchomenus and his wife Ino to have young Dionysus raised as a girl in the women’s quarters of their palace. When he reached adulthood, Hera recognized him as Zeus’s son despite (to quote Graves) “the effeminacy to which his education had reduced him.” In her rage, she drove him to madness-or perhaps to maleness, for he then proceeded to roam the world with a band of wild followers, achieving many military successes and spreading the cult of the vine before becoming a member of the council of gods on Olympus.
Procris
The mythmakers didn’t restrict crossdressing to males. Consider the soap-operatic case of a young woman named Procris. She was deserted by her husband, Cephalus, because of her apparent infidelity (which was actually real, except that she was tricked into it, but not every time, etc.). Disguising herself as a boy and taking the name Pterelas, she joined Cephalus on a hunting expedition. She came to this undertaking equipped with a dog that never failed to catch its quarry and a dart that never failed to hit its target — both awarded to her by one of her several seducers. Cephalus didn’t recognize Pterelas as Procris, but he was very much taken with the boy’s dog and dart and offered a generous price for them. Pterelas let it be known that he would give them up only for love. That was quite all right with Cephalus, who invited the boy to his bed — where Procris revealed herself as his wife. They were reconciled, and Cephalus happily took custody of the dog and the dart. A few nights later, Cephalus left their tent before dawn to go hunting. Procris, suspecting that he was going to see another woman, followed him. Cephalus heard a rustling noise in the darkness behind him. Convinced that he was being stalked by a dangerous beast, Cephalus hurled his magic dart and Procris was history — or, more precisely, myth.
More mythological gender shifting next month with Part 2 of Transgenderism in Greek Mythology.
Category: Transgender History
Interesting reprint! Thanks once again Hebe. Nice to see you posting your pic now. Better to know that you now spend most of your life living openly as a woman. You are a lovely lady and a wonderful writer.
This is a great article. Back in 1994, when Jamison Green related the subject of transgenderism in mythology to San Francisco’s Human Rights Commission during its investigation of gender identity discrimination, he introduced a principle I still refer to as the Jamison Principle: that myths involving gender variance wouldn’t happen had there not already existed conditions that violated the gender binary.
What surprises me is that we have failed to see much develop in the way of a transgender Dionysian Pagan tradition, despite its prevalence in antiquity.
I will watch for what should reveal itself as more good material, including some that actually ties ancient myth to some of the modern transgender traditions now practicing.