Matriarchy vs. Patriarchy
by Brienna Margesson
Women are stereotypically labeled as the weaker sex in literature, and even in
present day society, men are considered the dominant gender. For centuries, history and
folklore depicted men as victorious brawny warriors slaying the enemy in battles and
outwitting the villains. But along with all the powerful men come their wives, daughters,
nieces and sisters. Triumphant females, equipped with cunning intelligence and shrewd
craftiness, have a knack for prevailing in the end. The successful women of Greek myths
and ancient epics are often left unrecognized, but stop a moment and listen to their
stories. You will hear the calculated plans of women who dominated men, not with brute
strength or rage, but slyness and guile. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Homeric Hymns
and the Theogony, we read about the predicaments of a clever harlot, two devious,
scheming wives and one very irate mother.
Now, I must add this concession for the male readers, just to soften the blows to
their egos. It is true that many women of ancient times were able to formulate feasible
plans, trick men and prevail in the end. But, it is also widely accepted that men in ancient
times were dominant and always overshadowed the women. So, it is up to the reader to
take these examples of strong, victorious women as they see fit. The victories can either be
seen as random cases of momentary male stupidity, or they can be viewed as part of the
larger assemblage of powerful, triumphant females in ancient times.
The lines of The Epic of Gilgamesh tell not only of a King and his companion,
Enkidu, but also of the capable harlot who essentially sets this epic into motion. Cast into
the forest to remove wild Enkidu’s strength, the harlot uses her “women’s power to
overpower” Enkidu (Gilgamesh 64). Shamelessly, the harlot employs her sex appeal to
lure Enkidu into a trap. Her “woman’s art” engrosses the wild, untamed man for six days
and seven nights. When the harlot finishes spinning her web around Enkidu, he is no
longer able to run with the animals. With no convincing necessary, the harlot had taken
all of Enkidu’s might and swiftness. She left him weak, abandoned, and with the
“thoughts of a man in his heart” (Gilgamesh 65). The harlot dominated Enkidu, quite
easily, using nothing but her femininity to sway him. The result of Enkidu’s relations with
the harlot causes him to leave the forest and embark on his adventures with Gilgamesh.
Had the harlot not domesticated Enkidu, he would have remained in the forest with the
animals, and never involved himself with Gilgamesh. Therefore, if the harlot had not
tricked Enkidu through her “woman’s art,” the Epic of Gilgamesh would never have
come to be.
Ah, the trials and tribulations of the Greek gods. The tales recounted in Hesiod’s
Theogony sound more like plot scripts for “Days of Our Lives” than an invocation of the
muses. Affairs, murders, illegitimate children, drunken bacchanals and, of course, the
disputes between the gods and goddesses. Male gods by and large dominate the “happy
family,” while goddesses take their place in the background. Ouranos, Kronos, and Zeus
rule the roost, while Gaia, Rheia and Hera are seated on lower pedestals. But,
occasionally, the male gods were fooled and in turn overthrown. And what man was
clever enough to trick a god you may ask?
The gods of Mt. Olympos are hereditarily plagued with prophecies. In Ouranos’
case, it was prophesized that his children would overthrow him. His wife, Gaia, who gave
birth to the hundred-handers and kyklopes, was posed with a most painful dilemma. In
fear of being ousted by his own offspring, Ouranos, “with joy in his wicked work” pushed
each child back into Gaia’s bursting womb (Hesiod 17). Poor Gaia, tortured by Ouranos,
concocted a rather vicious counter attack on her husband. Like a general leading an
army, the wife of Ouranos proposed the plan to her children. Kronos, who particularly
loathed his father, volunteered to “punish his father’s outrageous deed” (Hesiod 17).
The next night, when Ouranos sauntered into the bedroom and crawled into the
bed, Gaia’s plan was set into action. With an iron sickle, fashioned by the multi-talented
Gaia, Kronos “swiftly hacked off his father’s genitals” (Hesiod 17). A perfect example of
female domination. Tired of being subject to Ouranos’ constant abuse, Gaia removed the
source of the problem. Gaia’s craftiness freed her from her husband’s rule and allowed
her to finally give birth to her children.
Kronos, the god who was handy with the sickle, was also doomed to be
overthrown by his son. Rheia, Kronos’ wife, watched as each of her children were
scooped up and devoured by her husband. When Rheia could bear it no longer, she
decided to take revenge against Kronos. With help from her parents, Gaia and Ouranos
(who must have still been a smidgen bitter about the sickle incident), Rheia formulated a
plan to save her next child. Rather than cut anything off of her dear husband, Rheia
opted to trick him instead. When Zeus was born, he was shipped off under the clock of
darkness, to be raised on the island of Crete. To satiate Kronos’ appetite, Rheia offered
him her son, which was actually a stone wrapped in “swaddling clothes” (Hesiod 25).
Soon after swallowing the stone, Kronos proceeded to throw up all of the children he had
previously ingested. Oh, how pleased Rheia must have been to see her children pouring
forth from her husband’s mouth! Again, this myth shows an example of a woman’s
craftiness removing her from male domination.
The Homeric Hymn to Demeter tells the tale of a very determined mother,
unscathed by male attempts at domination. Demeter’s daughter was abducted, taken to
the Underworld and married to Hades. Of course, it was Persephone’s own father, Zeus,
who had allowed the kidnapping. Demeter, grief stricken, was determined to retrieve her
daughter form the arms of the King of the Underworld. Using her influence and proving
her shrewd intelligence, Demeter, the goddess of fertility, vowed to “never again allow the
grain in the earth to sprout forth before seeing with her eyes her fair-faced daughter”
(Homeric Hymns 11). Her spiteful words and blatant stubbornness caught the attention
of the Olympians. No one on earth could afford to ignore Demeter’s threats. By pushing
her weight around, Demeter forced Zeus to concede and allow Persephone to resume her
days of picking flowers in the meadow.
I will again add a small concession at this point in my essay. Both Demeter and
Hades won the battle for Persephone. Hades, with his infamous pomegranate seed, did
some scheming of his own. While Persephone regained earthly status for the majority of
the year, Hades’ plan permitted him to enjoy the “slender-ankled” goddess for one third
of the year. But, the way I see it, Demeter won. And if you disagree, just take a look at the
orange leaves falling to the ground, the withering plants, and the frost that creeps slowly
onto your windows. That’s Demeter, rearing her bitter head, proving to the gods that she
does indeed have the upper hand.
Just like guests on trashy daytime talk shows, the Greek gods have complex and
often dysfunctional power struggles. In more than a few examples, the women are the
dominating sex. The ancient epics also tell of shameless women, unabashedly using their
bodies to coerce powerful men. The Epic of Gilgamesh, Works and Days and the
Theogony recount the tales of women dominating over men. The women use a certain
slyness, a certain craftiness, that always seems to reward them with the results they desire.
When confronted by a determined woman, neither god nor mortal man stands a chance.
I believe the point of this essay can be summed up by stating, “the female of the species is
more deadly than the male.”