Stone Blind

by Natalie Haynes

I see you. I see all those who men call monsters. And I see the men who call them that. Call themselves heroes, of course.

And the monster? Who is she? She is what happens when someone cannot be saved.

This particular monster is assaulted, abused and vilified. And yet, as the story is always told, she is the one you should fear. She is the monster. We’ll see about that.

The only good thing about Zeus’s sexual incontinence, his wife Hera had often thought, was its extreme brevity.

This, she knew, was love. And she felt it even though she did not want it.

Her large brown eyes gave the misleading impression of a sweet-natured creature. A deer, say, or a cow. But she was as sharp-eyed as any predator. She had missed nothing.

The Gorgon girl looked out across the vast ocean and believed she could be seen in return. And she could, but not by her mother.

Imagine being a god, she thought, and still needing to tell everyone how impressive you were.

‘It doesn’t matter what they think of me.’ ‘Then why do you want to protect them?’ ‘Because I can,’ she said.

Perseus looked at his mother and at Dictys, trying to comprehend how these two all-powerful people were suddenly incapacitated. Dictys could steer a course through a sudden storm, he could catch any fish the ocean chose to offer, he could out-sail the monsters of the deep. And yet there he sat, wordless. His mother could heal any injury, repair any break. But she simply stood in silence as their lives were smashed to pieces.

She screamed until her voice was gone. It changed nothing.

‘Ah, I see,’ he said. ‘Must be nice,’ muttered Enyo.

And so every day became a complicated journey around the labyrinth of possibility and impossibility:

It’s true we weren’t here at the beginning, but we were here at the end and which is more important?

‘And the snakes can talk?’ Perseus wondered how much worse this could get. Both gods looked at him as though he were an imbecile. ‘Of course they can’t talk,’ said Athene. ‘They’re snakes.’

‘Why would anyone love a monster?’ asked Perseus. ‘Who are you to decide who is worthy of love?’ said Hermes. ‘I mean, I wasn’t . . .’ ‘And who are you to decide who is a monster?’ added the messenger god.

her mother – once she had broken her silence – had not stopped crying and pleading. She was occupying the role Andromeda might have taken for herself, and in the moments when she was alone, Andromeda resented it.

Andromeda gazed at the priest steadily through her veil, noting his anger that she dared to meet his eyes and did not look away.

‘Men call you monsters because they don’t understand you.’ ‘I don’t mind being a monster,’ Euryale replied. ‘I would rather have power than not. I like being what scares them.’

He’s just a bag of meat wandering round, irritating people.’

She was asleep. We were awake, but she was asleep. It’s important that you know this, because he will try to claim there was a battle. But there is no battle to be had between an armed man and a sleeping girl. Don’t forget.

He was a coward.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be brave to kill her while she slept.

I don’t feel like saving mortals any more. I don’t feel like saving anyone any more. I feel like opening my eyes and taking in everything I can see whenever I get the chance. I feel like using the power the goddess gave me. I feel like spreading fear wherever I go, wherever Perseus goes. I feel like becoming the monster he made. I feel like that.

She began praying to a god she hated.

Is it a memory or a thought,

She liked his dark, darting eyes and the way he seemed to have no other interest but her.

The sea gods keep their secrets deep; they always have.