Ariadne: A Case Study

by Diane Fahey

Diane Fahey

Now that sounds a little melodramatic:
‘He left me on the shore,
sailed off without a backward glance'…
But he knew I loved him.
I was not interested in him
as some jumped-up popular hero,
or in his beautiful physique, (so many men
boringly obsessed with their bodies);
what I loved in him was …
But there's no getting away
from bodies, is there?
What I mean is, you sound
a little repressed.
Oh no, there had already been
a consummation … many of them.
What remained was for him to honour
our love. To do that,
he needed to conquer his fear.
Afraid? A hero like him … Really!
I suppose you think you provided
the basis for his great feat?
Yes, the clew — a long silver thread
that would have dissolved in air
had he doubted. He did not.
The line between us held fast.
 Surely it was just a ball of string.
He laid the trail as he went in,
got to the centre, slew the Minotaur
then retraced his steps.
Not quite. He stood for a long time,
paralysed, at the entrance. I said,
‘The monster you will find in there
will not be strange to you'. ‘I know,'
he said, ‘I've often dreamt of him’.
‘You'll go deep inside yourself
as you wind through the maze. While you hold
this thread — stay connected to me —
you won't be lost.' And so it happened.
As though you were controlling everything?
These delusions of grandeur!
I saw Theseus in the grip of them
when he returned. Night after night,
he shouted in his sleep,
‘I am the Minotaur!’
By day, he swaggered with secret knowledge.
In the end, he no longer saw me.
So he stopped loving you, or never did.
Fulfilment lay, for him, in other things.
In selfish power. He had no heed
for my pain, or vulnerability.
Anger! You need to get in touch
with it, own it, work it through.
I should be able to help you to do that.
So many mazes, so many minotaurs,
she said, and shook her head.


Last updated January 14, 2019