My Life as a Mythic Detective

You could say that I am a fairly simple human. The things I enjoy most in life are those that do not require much speaking or thinking. I like my evidence neat and I find it hard to believe things unless they are structured. My brain was not quite prepped for Literature 285. As I would find out, Ovid is not at all cut and dry. It requires thought and sympathy to understand.  My strenuous regimen of Netflix and bowling prior to taking this class did not quite prepare me for the role of mythic detective.

            Going into this class, I was under the impression that all myths were just fictitious ancient stories. After learning that myths are the precedent behind every action, I still was not quite convinced. How could antiquated tales of gods possibly foretell the future? It was not until I began to read Ovid that I shed my skepticism and realized the stories in The Metamorphosis are not about the gods at all, they are about humans. There are over two hundred stories in Ovid that paint how tragic, and how beautiful it is to live a human life. It can be hard to look past the “magic” in The Metamorphosis. Especially for a systems one thinker like myself. How can humans change into animals? And how can sculptures come to life? At face value, for me the answer is simple; they cannot. But as Ovid progressed I came to understand that certain stories are not about being changed into an animal, they are about feeling human emotions like helplessness, love and truly knowing struggle. Those are feelings that all people can relate to.

            Upon beginning Ovid, the parallels I drew between The Metamorphosis and my life were subtle. A band name here and a movie plot there. I did not think much of it. But when I really got deep into the meat of The Metamorphosis I found it difficult to dismiss the mounting evidence that everything is mythological. At around book seven I reluctantly surrendered to three facts; 1. It is impossible to have and ordinary day, 2. Coincidences are hardly coincidences at all, and 3. Ovid knows more about my life than I do.

            As a mythic detective, it is easy to get caught up in breathing. A seemingly ordinary day can mask how truly ancient our actions are. However once I realized that both Calisto and I could solve most of our problems through more efficient means of communication, and that Phaethon and I should probably begin to listen to our parents, it makes even boring days ancient and mythical. Some of the most mythical things to cross my mind are dreams. In my dreams I can lose my speech, create beautiful works of art, fall in love, and have my heart broken. How is it that a human living in 2013 can have dreams that reflect the themes and stories of a book written over two thousand years ago? The answer is myth. And that is hardly ordinary at all.

            Merriam Webster tells us that a coincidence is a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection. I used to believe that coincidences were rare happenings, however once I began to notice them it became apparent to me that coincidences happen often and always. I’m reading the story of Perseus’s Battles and who calls me out of the blue? My younger sister. What is she claiming? I stole her sweater. Now she didn’t wait until my wedding day to make the accusation and I didn’t remedy the problem by showing her Medusa’s head, but what are the chances that my sister would call me as I was reading one of the great sibling rivalries in The Metamorphosis.

            Another student once said that in order to be truly original one must go back to the origins. I do not claim to be original or creative whatsoever, but I do believe I am a product of mythic origins. The stories Ovid sows throughout The Metamorphosis can take me from laughing to crying in a matter of pages. It is truly baffling how an ancient text can seem so dialed in on my emotions. Did Ovid know that in 2000 years I would be reading The Metamorphosis? Ovid may have not known me specifically, but he did know a thing or two about humans. Two thousand years later and we are still disgusted and entertained with the same subject matter. To me, that is truly mythological.

            The challenge now is to discover how to employ this new found detective background. Is it simply enough to recognize the mythological world around us? Or did Ovid have other intentions? We’ll probably never know, however I’m willing to bet the answer is somewhere written in The Metamorphosis. Perhaps it will become apparent next time we hug a tree or whisper our secrets into the sand.