Week 3: Storytelling- Icarus' Undoing

            Icarus looked out into the distance, watching a red sun set upon the blue water. The horizon seemed so close, so attainable, and yet, so impossibly far away. He had grown up on the island. It was the only thing he'd ever known. His father never told him why they could never leave, just that they couldn't. His heart longed for new and distant places, but his mind knew he would never see that for which his heart longed. Still, he was young, and the hope in his heart would not be diminished so easily. In the midst of his pitiful thoughts, a pair of small birds happened to fly into view. Chirping cheerfully, the birds rode the wind, free of the heavy thoughts that disturbed Icarus' unhappy mind.

            "If only I were a bird! With such wings I could fly from this wretched place. Woe to me that the gods would curse me with legs, chained to this cruel island by such a cruel twist of fate. May the gods grant me wings, that I may escape this prison!"

            Icarus called out to the sea and the sky, knowing that no one was listening to his cries. He was drawn from despair by the call of his father.

            "Icarus! Come quick, my son! I have something to show you. Something that will bring joy to your heart and smile to your lips!"

            Icarus raced home, struggling to contain his excitement. He slowed down as he approached the shop door from which his father had called to him. Drawing a slow breath, he crossed the threshold. What his eyes beheld was nothing short of divine.

            "By the gods," he exclaimed, "what sort of inventions are these, father?"

            "Wings, my son. The hard land and the deep sea are closed to us, but the skies are our freedom. What do you think?"

            Icarus knew his father was skilled, but these wings, of beeswax, reeds and feathers were nothing short of an answered prayer. He fingered them in his excitement. Too forcefully in the eyes of his father.

            "Careful son! Our means of escape are too delicate for such treatment. Now I must tell you, and you must listen, to what I have to say. Let me warn you! Avoid the heavens and the sea, lest your wings be unmade. Take a middle road, my son, and all will be well. Do you understand?"

            Icarus was barely paying attention, so great was his excitement. "Of course, father. You certainly know best."

            Early the next morning, Icarus woke his father eagerly, ready to fly away from the only place he'd ever known. As his father fitted the wings on him, he noticed a nervousness in his father's movements and in his words. So potent was his enthusiasm, that this thought left him quickly.

            "Before leave son, you must remember what I told you yesterday. Follow me!"

            Icarus watched his father flap his wings, and soar like a bird. "Soon I shall be free of my enslavement to this ground," he thought to himself joyfully. Then with a few flaps of his own, he watched the ground drop from beneath him.

            In a matter of minutes, the father and son had left their island beyond the horizon. With the island out of sight and out of mind, the joy rushing in Icarus' veins overcame his father's advise. He longed to touch the sky, so he daringly raced towards the heavens.

            The approaching sun turned his joy into utter horror. The wax was melting! His wings were falling apart! He suddenly felt himself plummeting towards the sea. As the sea rushed to meet him, Icarus longed for his island home, that he had just that morning cursed with his departure.

            "Forgive me father, my freedom was too much for me! I ought to have accepted what the gods had in store for me, and left the flying to the birds! May the world learn from my folly!"

            No one, not even his father, heard his screams. His father, though he searched tirelessly, would not find the son he looked for. And so Daedalus would curse his inventions. What should have brought him so much joy, left him in despair. If only he had never made them, his poor son Icarus would still be by his side.

(The Flight of Icarus, Jacob Peter Gowy)

Author's Note:

I have heard this story of Daedalus and Icarus many times, but I have never heard from the perspective of Icarus. Daedalus invents wings so that he and his son can escape the island of Crete. Icarus flies too close to he sun, and his wings are ruined. So he falls to his death, leaving his father to mourn. It such a tragic story, but I wanted to put myself in Icarus' place. If I had the ability to fly away from the island I was exiled to, I would be impossibly excited. Who can fault this young boy from trying to touch the sky? Sure he should have listened to his father, but who hasn't disobeyed their parents? Poor Icarus pays the ultimate price for his disobedience.

Bibliography:

Daedalus and Icarus

Ovid's Metamorphoses

Translated by Tony Kline

2000