The Judgment of Paris: A Retelling
By A.J. Mittendorf
When Discord dropped her gilded fruit in Heaven's Halls at the wedding feast of Thetis, every goddess dreamed to own it and claim the "fairest" title as her own. Yet only three of these had power enough to stake a claim that held. Hera first, as queen, thought the right was hers alone, but wise Athena, whose thoughts are praised, sought the gold for wisdom's sake. And Aphrodite, lover of love, meekly knew the apple hers.
In peace, they sought the power of Zeus to choose between the three, and he, in wisdom of the king of gods--raising palm and shaking head--declined his right to judge. "Heavenly ladies," said he, "you have no need of quarrel. You are Heaven's hosts, a throne for each. Such a fruit, if not beneath you, is simple repetition."
"Not so, my lord, Olympic King," Hera entered in. "The fruit is fit for power and honour, sweetly befitting Heaven's queen."
"Aye, my lord," Athena spoke. "The fruit is ripe for giving wisdom; Wisdom earns such golden globes."
Aphrodite spoke no claim but smiled lightly in godly grace.
"My dear," said Zeus, charmed by her demur, "have you no boast for possession of this prize?"
"No, my lord."
"But you claim its title, do you not?"
"It is, indeed, most pleasing to the eye, my lord, not unbecoming Love's goddess."
"Then," decided Zeus, "if you cannot share it, I shall divide the fruit between you. Haphaestus' sword will know the mark for equal portions." But Hera spoke in haste, "You can do no such thing to such a worthy prize! Its beauty is power; to mar it, even with your great skill, will make it valueless. As Heaven's queen, your sister, and your consort, I claim the apple and its title whole. There is no prize more fitting for me than this, and there is none more fitting on Olympus for the fruit than I."
"Well have you spoken, Hera," Athena said. "There is, indeed, no one more fitting, but there are those equally fitting, and I am one. If the apple is to be left undivided and mighty Zeus in his authority will not choose between us, the fruit should either be destroyed, or we should pick a fool to choose."
Since no one wished the apple gone, Athena's second thought seemed wise to all. "Very well, then," the king of gods agreed, "there is a man who fits my plan for Earth; let him choose. Offer him riches such as your hearts might think him desirous: kingdoms, queens, strength, or skill, but you must all agree that this man's choice is law and binding; he has the right, though not the might, to choose not to choose, but when he chooses, I have chosen.
"Then do with him as you will; use discretion, for you must spare his life; I have plans for him. You will find him on the wooded slopes near the base of Mountain Ida--the very area Amalthea nursed me as an infant and hid me from the wrath of crowned Kronos. He is there, an abandoned youth, as I was, raised by shepherds and skilled in carving wood of living trees. Paris is his given name, sentenced to death by his father, as I was, because of a fateful prophesy, which is my will for him to fulfill. You will know him as Alexander, the protector and protected, for that is how he knows himself, renamed as he is by the shepherds who found and raised him. He will be your judge in my stead."
The petitioners agreed, and with a solemn nod of Zeus's head that brought the thunder of a thousand striking gavels, his word was sealed. With reverent bows the goddesses departed, taking Hermes as their spokesman. Together they descended on wings of lightning to the forests at the base of Ida. On every tree of more than eighty years was carved a scene. On one tall tree was a scene of sundry satyrs playing pan-flutes and dancing about three maidens who gleefully clapped their hands, tapped their feet, and sang along with joyous smiles. Above them, in the background, nearly hidden by the brush, crouched a smiling boy looking on.
Another carving showed a youthful king who held an infant high in one hand, and a mighty sabre in the other. Before him knelt two women--one with lowered head, hands at sides, palms up-turned; the other reaching toward the child in earnest supplication.
A mighty king with enormous thumbs, in yet another scene, sneered among a sea of prostrate subjects covering the land to the horizon all about him. He disdained to look on them in their humble state, but turned his face to Heaven.
On the final tree the gods glanced was carved a simple portrait of a lovely woman. Her eyes were sharply focused, yet seemed to glow. Within them one saw understanding as none on Earth possessed. Her hair was most a radiant shine emanating from within. Her lips were soft and full, yet seemed able to speak with strength. She held her head high with dignity. Hera, herself, swore the face becoming of a goddess, but knew of none whom this engraving resembled.
As the four divinities remarked on the art and the beauty of the woman, Paris entered the tiny clearing where they stood. He did not know their faces, but he knew he stood among the gods. He fell to Earth in fearful obeisance, begging them to please spare his life.
Smiling, Hermes stepped forward and helped him to his feet. "Do not fear, Alexander," Hermes began. "You are highly favoured by the king of gods, for he has chosen you to judge in his own name. The three you see before you are Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena. They wish to know who among them you find the fairest--a simple task, I think."
"I am to choose the fairest among these goddesses? How can I make a choice? If I choose one, the two will surely take my life!"
"Not so, Alexander." Hermes placed an arm about Paris to speak reassuringly. "You will surely not die, but you will be as Zeus himself, with his authority to separate fair from fair."
"I am not a fair judge. I cannot distinguish finest gold from finest gold; this is a job for a god, not a man."
"Do not fear to make a choice, but make no choice too soon. Hear each one speak. Listen to her words, for beauty is not just in a woman's looks, but in her gifts, as well. Be seated on this fallen trunk, beside this most exquisite portrait carved on this living tree, and hear what each shall promise you." He led the wide-eyed Paris by his shoulders to the tree and bade him sit.
Hera stepped forward first and spoke to Paris. "I am Hera, Heaven's queen, empowered to give you all the lust of your eye--all that is pleasing to see. If you choose me, Alexander, you will conquer in the power of your youth and see the wonders of the world. Men will call you 'great,' for I will give you thrones from which to rule. Your subjects will fear you and obey. When you walk your streets, all who see will bow. Your palace will be of such quality that the threshold, floor, the very steps to your throne will seem to kiss your feet as you walk. You will rule in safety from all your enemies if you find me the fairest."
When Hera finished, Athena stood and spoke, bribing Paris thus: "I, Athena, am given authority to grant your pride of life. I know you wish to teach a thirsty audience all that you have learned, Alexander. I can give you that. I can give you insight such as never known and with it, leadership--an ever-growing hoard of followers. They will praise you to their friends, and stand in awe of you and all your teachings. All you say they will write, recite, and pass for generations. From now until the end of mankind, there will be no end of respect for you. All this I will grant if you choose me as fairest, Alexander."
And when Athena closed, Aphrodite stood and spoke: "Regard this portrait you have carved, and ponder the lust of your flesh, Paris (for that is the name of your true self); could she not quench a manly appetite? The man who walks a city's length at noon with her, would he not be seen as wise? And he who takes her to his bed, would he not be known as great? Would he not be feared and revered, praised and powerful, Paris?" She moved behind her pet to whisper directly in his ear, calmly, soothingly--almost . . . seductively. "It is the visage of Helen that you have carved following only your heart's design. She is the daughter of Leda by Zeus himself, who came to her in swan-like form; can you see the resemblance? Look into her eyes; do they know you? Can you smell the subtle perfume of her hair? Hear the praises in her voice; why, do they not speak for you? Can you feel the warmth of her touch? Taste the passion of her lips? Would any man not long for her? Is she not the fairest mortal Earth has ever seen? Yes, she is. Am I not the fairest goddess you have ever known?"
He spoke nothing, nodding in dumb concession. He paid no attention when Hera spoke her curse to him: "Fool! You have chosen the fairest and your fate. The blessings I promised to you will fall to someone else in time. I can not kill you now as I would like, but when your family knows calamity, I will side against you." Nor did he hear Athena offer her curse: "You have made your choice, but I promise, Aphrodite will be no aid to your loved ones when they come to ruin." He knew only the gift he had cherished since his youth. That he knew well.
