The story of a powerful woman raped, demonized, then slain by a patriarchal society? It seems less of an ancient myth than a modern reality. It’s easy to see why Cixous’ manifesto resonated far and wide. Once rid of the fearful and vilifying male gaze, we can recover Medusa’s “grace” and “mailed radiance,” rendering her human once more. The poet was so inspired by his visit to the Uffizi that he penned a tribute, undoing the patriarchal framing that had made Medusa a symbol of horror. Meanwhile, Romantics like Percy Bysshe Shelley moved far beyond other 19th century representations. Jacobin rebels displayed her as an emblem of “French Liberty,” subverting the demonic symbol into a means by which to undermine the establishment. He, too, wanted a piece that would win the admiration of the Medicis so he depicted Medusa in the moment she was conquered, transferring her mighty power away to the viewer.įast forward to the French Revolution, and for a while, Medusa became a force for change. Other artists followed suit: in 1598, Caravaggio painted his nightmarish ceremonial shield. There were politics at play: Cellini had been asked to use the hero narrative of Perseus, the son of Zeus sent to slay Medusa, as a way of reflecting the power of the Medici family over the Florentine people. Cellini’s 1554 bronze statue depicts a triumphant Perseus standing on top of her body, her severed head held aloft. It’s through this male-centered hero narrative that Medusa became shorthand for monstrosity.īy the Renaissance, that mystique gave way to fearsome difference. After using the petrifying gaze to defeat his enemies in battle, Perseus gives the Gorgon’s head to Athena, who displays it on the aegis of her shield. Using a reflective bronze shield to protect his eyes, Perseus decapitates Medusa, releasing a winged horse, Pegasus, from her severed neck. The demigod is sent by Polydectes, the king of Seriphos, on a quest to bring back the head of Medusa. Popular retellings of the myth, however, focus on what happens next-and Perseus the starring role. Furious at the desecration of her temple, Athena transformed Medusa into a monster with the deadly capacity to turn whoever looked upon her face to stone. Her beauty caught the eye of the sea god Poseidon, who proceeded to rape her in the sacred temple of Athena. According to Ovid, Medusa was once a beautiful young maiden, the only mortal of three sisters known as the Gorgons. The first to properly explore her origin story in literature was the Roman poet Ovid, who detailed her transformation in the Metamorphoses circa 8 A.D.

Early vases and carvings depict her as having been born a Gorgon, but that slowly changed. In the ancient world, Medusa was equally multidimensional. There she sits, long-locked, encircled by a ring of Greek keys. Even the House of Versace found inspiration in the Gorgon, placing the beautiful (pre-curse) version at the heart of its iconic logo. For the past two decades, the character has continually resurfaced in cinema mostly in an alluring form: Natalia Vodianova lent serious supermodel power to the 2010 remake of Clash of the Titans, while Uma Thurman cut a particularly seductive figure in Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. No female character, however, is perhaps as popular as Medusa, the monster who could turn men to stone with a single glance.įrom a tight-suited villain in The Powerpuff Girls to a scathing metaphor for UK Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in UB40’s hit song “Madam Medusa,” the myth of Medusa endures in contemporary pop culture. Tales of gods, Titans, and giants fill children’s fairy tales, while a variety of mythological monsters have captivated viewers on the big screen. Since the days of early Western civilization, when myths were forged in fire and stone, society has been fascinated with the ancient Greek imagination.

Medusa tattoo