Spring is in the air and the waterfowl are getting frisky, which brings to mind a spicy Greek myth that struck has struck a chord with artists for the past 2500 years: Zeus’ seduction Leda. The famously philandering Olympian god transformed himself into a variety of exciting things to court and abduct young beauties. And the offspring of these unions (when heterosexual) were invariable born in weird ways.
Leda was an Aetolian princess (later to be a Spartan queen) who caught Zeus’ eye, whereupon he transformed himself into a swan to best ravish her. She later gave birth to two eggs, each containing a set of twins: Helen (later of Troy) and Clytemnestra (Agamemnon’s vengeful wife) in one, and the heroic Dioskourides (Kastor and Pokydeukes) in the other. Come to think of it, perhaps this the preferable way to give birth to twins…
Shown here is a famous Roman (Hadrianic) rendition of Zeus in action now in Venice, and one of many copies all in the same format, presumably based on a now-lost Greek original. Webbed feet have never been more aggressive, nor those long necks so upsettingly suggestive. And it is little wonder that the powerful (disturbing?) imagery has so captured imaginations over the centuries.
To quote the immortal Yeats:
‘sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.[…]’
