The Apple of Discord and The judgment of Paris
A modern-day dissection
Every time someone tells the story of Helene of Troy, she is painted as the world’s greatest beauty, Paris as the world’s dumbest lover, Odysseus the sharpest mind, the heroes at battle as the greatest warriors that ever walked the Earth.
The legend loosely goes….
Eres the Goddess of Discord, spurned at not being invited to the wedding — of who would later be Achilles’s parents — throws a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides into the wedding banquet with a cryptic ‘for the fairest’ message. The three main female goddesses present at this wedding; Hera, Athena and Aphrodite claimed the apple for themselves. Zeus, conflicted out of this discussion (with Hera his wife in the equation he would antagonise everyone whichever way he chose) picked an innocuous choice for arbitrator: a shepherd grazing his flock at a faraway hilltop. The shepherd was Paris, also known as Alexander, son of Priam who had previously displayed his fairness of judgement when Ares had taken the form of a bull and won a contest in Priam’s lands. A god winning a contest against a mere bull should have been a red flag for most, but not for Paris. He was either simple minded, or simple witted and apparently, no good deed goes unpunished, so Zeus sends Hermes to Paris, asking him to decide who among the three goddesses deserves the apple.
I sometimes wonder how the goddesses would have tried to influence Paris. Showing him glimpses of what was possible if he chose her.
Hera with her influence over Zeus, over mankind, over the Fates. He could have become a powerful Greek voice of reason. The greater Alexander in history. He may have overshadowed Odysseus in Homer’s Illiad.
Paris didn’t choose Influence.
Athena was among many things, a warrior goddess. Unlike her brother Ares who was driven into war by blood lust, Athena brought strategic wisdom to the battlefield. Had Paris chosen her, he would have been a better warrior than Achilles and a better war strategist than Odysseus. But Paris didn’t choose Power.
Aphrodite was beauty personified. She was virile, sexually charged and filled with the promise of contented bliss. Paris wanted the warmth of a beautiful woman and the joy of a content life. Paris chose Love. Paris would always be painted as someone that chose poorly; as someone who’s judgements were naïve and caused countless people immense grief and loss. Imagine the mockery his choice would have been at the local tavern that night.
The local prince that chose the Goddess of Love. What a wimp.
But really. Was he a wimp? Was his choice so fundamentally flawed? Per legend, Aphrodite shafted him by making him fall in love with an already married wife of a pugnacious king of Sparta. Helene was already a much-contested apple herself: she had been hard won in contest between many suitors. Beauty as it always does lies in the eyes of the beholder. And Helene was a beauty that was desired by many, owned by one. And that made her a prize.
Helene was the Apple of Discord that Aphrodite returned to Paris for the privilege of his choice. The Gods clearly were not very nice to the humans.
The real question is, did Paris chose poorly?
This theme plays out to this day. Across borders. Across generations.
Power over influence. Influence over love. Those who chose love silenced, marginalised and overlooked by those seeking power and influence.
To this day, the ones among us who choose love stay outliers: poets, hippies, idealists, socialists, writers, philosophers, activists. We have names that put them in the time capsule of their era. They come in waves: rising whenever power corrupts the land with its influence overthrowing reason and goodness. Love has always had clandestine lovers. Docile in nature but ferocious in their passion. Love has held out in hideouts; in the pens of writers, in the ropes of the gallows; in the illicit whispered proclamations of beating hearts and entwined bodies.
This story only changes when Love becomes the universally better choice. Love for the planet, love for the neighbour, love for love’s sake. When Love doesn’t get personified by Gandhi, or the Dalai Lama, but by the local eco-warrior who left a corporate job to create his piece of paradise, or the cross-border lovers who birthed the greatest sporting sensation of a generation, or artists that submit their sanity to the Muses so they can draw fresh inspiration for all mankind.
We have a responsibility to change the judgement of Paris. We have a responsibility to make Love win, so we can win as a race.
