Marble and Performance Tell the Same Story

William Butler Yeats, one of the demigods of British literature, wrote an incredible amount of poetry. In my Modern British Literature class, we covered a large selection of his work, and among them, we looked closely at one lesser-known poem called Leda and the Swan. It was based on the Greek myth in which Zeus transforms into a swan in order to satisfy his lust by raping Leda. From this, the beautiful Helen of Troy—the face that launched a thousand ships—was begotten. However, Yeats does not focus on this but shows the perspective of the frightened victim, Leda. It is a beautiful, beautiful poem. Here it is in full (but caution—it’s an explicit poem and is very disturbing):

Leda and The Swan by William Butler Yeats

A 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.

How can those terrified vague fingers push

The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?

And how can body, laid in that white rush,

But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?

A shudder in the loins engenders there

The broken wall, the burning roof and tower

And Agamemnon dead.

Being so caught up,

So mastered by the brute blood of the air,

Did she put on his knowledge with his power

Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?**

As a feminist, and one that is often disturbed by the rape culture that seems to be growing daily in our world, this poem struck a chord within me. I remember finding it almost unbearable to read, yet I appreciated the fact that Yeats did not shy away from telling the other side of the story—not Zeus’s triumph or his womanizing ways—but his abuses.

Today, we visited the Victoria and Albert Museum and found the sculpture that commemorates this event; it is also called Leda and the Swan. The plaque at the museum describes the event as “Zeus disguised himself as a swan to make love to Leda.” It is sad that the story is told that way, but it illustrates the way in which events are often edited to be more palatable and beneficial to those in charge. 
 

Leda and the Swan, Victoria and Albert Museum

 While sparing a moment of silence at the statue in awe that we had stumbled upon one of the things I had studied last semester, I saw the similarities this story had with a play we studied and watched for this trip: Love’s Sacrifice. In it, the Duke Caraffa falls madly in love with a young peasant woman Bianca. They marry, and she later falls in love with his best friend, causing Caraffa to kill her in a jealous rage. Before this, several times throughout the play whenever Caraffa got angry or suspicious of the relationship, he would remind her of what he had done for her: he deigned to stoop below his station and lift her from obscurity into the lap of luxury. Knowing Leda’s side of the Zeus legend, though, I could not help but think perhaps Bianca did not ask for this “gift.” In both cases, a more powerful man—Zeus by his power as a god and Caraffa due to his political and social station—lusted after them. And what powerful men want, they usually get. How could either woman refuse? For that matter, was either woman even asked? I think they probably were not. So, a strong parallel can be found in our two victimized women, Bianca and Leda. Though history often makes these two women seem lucky to have had relationships with such illustrious men, we see that behind the mask of grandeur, darkness reigns. In this statue of Leda, though it does not depict the violence that the Yeats poem does, I felt a connection, not just to Bianca but to the victims that go unnoticed or ignored every single day. Remembering their stories, as painful as it is to read or to look at, goes a long way in finally giving a voice to the right side of the story.
We saw some other beautiful pieces at the musuem, which was a very eclectic mash-up of history and modern art--we saw everything from Donatello pieces to an exhibit on shoes.

This was probably my favorite piece in the museum. It was two pieces of an altar that has now been collected and placed together. It tells the story of Christ's crucifixion at the top, and the bottom is of the Virgin Mary's grief-stricken reaction. The carved details were incredible.

 

This picture doesn't do this creation justice. Each of the white spheres is a dandelion seed captured and preserved. I still have no idea how they did it, but I'm certainly impressed. This was located in the exhibit called "What is Luxury?" which made us question what we place value on, whether it was innovation, opulence, success, etc..

Turban ornaments from the 18th Century with gold, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and pale beryls.

And because I cannot be serious for an entire post, this looked like the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter so I had to snap a selfie. Fun fact: it's actually an Akali Turban that stored sharp objects for easy access so the wearer could reach up and then throw the weapons at enemies. Malfoy would have had to watch out if this had been at the Sorting Ceremony.

**This is from http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/leda-and-swan