Week 2 Story: Solitary Confinement

Echo’s life was a tiring, thankless, and unfulfilled one. While her sister nymphs were off consorting with the king of gods Zeus himself in rapturous, passionate lovemaking, Echo was left to the stressful task of distracting Zeus’ wife Hera with lengthy prattle from catching them in the act.

To make matters worse, Hera caught on to the purpose of these conversations and, in her petulance, punished Echo for it. “If your actions serve the unruliness of others,” she had said, “then your tongue shall do the same!” From then on, Echo could only repeat that last spoken of what she hears. At the whims of others and with no prosperity for herself.

One day, Echo overheard a conversation between a soothsayer famous for his completely accurate predictions and the naiad Dusky Liriope, whom she heard of being the wife of the renowned river god Cephisus.

“Word spreads fast of your faultless foresight, Tiresias, though I cannot help but be skeptical,” Dusky speaks. “Thus, I come to challenge that ability, to ask if a long, prosperous life awaits in the future of my beautiful son.”

“Beautiful son?” Echo quietly repeats, her interest piqued.

Tiresias replies “I acknowledge your concern, and wish to sate it for the sake of your son, Narcissus. Born of Cephisus himself, no? Takes long walks in the woods? Quite a handsome lad, he is, with dark tresses as flowing as the rivers themselves. I see greatness in him, but the future is as malleable as clay, and it is best for it if he does not know only himself…”

“Only himself…” Echo says, her imagination swimming. She had served the lovemaking needs of the other nymphs for so long, why not serve herself for once? Her mind made up and her heart swelling with warmth, she flew off in search of the boy with silky dark hair.

For Narcissus himself, he is indeed as self-centered as Tiresias said, though only so much can be blamed on himself. While handsome at the ripe age of sixteen, this drew unwanted attention from many a maiden, seeing only his surface, and unwanted ire from many a man his age, envious of his apparent charm.

Thus, Narcissus became paranoid of his beauty, obsessed with a magnet that draws ruin. He felt only comfortable confiding in himself, knowing he would not sing hollow words of affection or deliver undue hate upon himself. He often retreats to the woods for his own sake.

Such a stroll leads Echo to him. Completely entranced, she desired nothing more than to caress him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Concern ran through her head, since she would only be able to repeat what has been said before, but knew such a risk was worth taking for love. She followed behind, and listened closely for what she could do.

“Thank the gods,’ Narcissus muttered. “Finally, away from all the ruckus so I can take in nature’s beauty itself…”

No sooner had Narcissus spoke that he heard the whisper of “Beauty itself…” through the trees. 

Stunned, he glances around and calls out “Is anyone here?”

“Here,” the voice repeats.

Narcissus stood frightened, clearly unamused. “Cease this tomfoolery and let us meet face to face!”

“Face to face!” The voice uttered with glee, and with that, Echo crept up behind Narcissus and wrapped her arms around his neck, passion in her eyes.

The boy turned to meet the nymph, and was immediately overcome with denial from being denied solitude.

“Get away from me!” Narcissus shouted as he shoved Echo away. “I would rather die before all of me is yours!”

“All of me is yours!” Echo pleaded, but all for naught, as Narcissus had fled.

The heart-broken Echo dashed into the woods and cried. She cried and cried into the earth for what seemed like eternity until her body disappeared into it. Her voice’s sound left upon the wind.

Word spread fast among the nymphs of the one who scorned Echo to her fate until it reached the goddess Nemesis’ ears, who decided, “Content with himself? Then let him try to command himself for much longer.” 

On a hot day, Narcissus stumbled upon a fountain in the woods. The water clear as glass, unheated thanks to the shade of the trees.

As Narcissus drank, he gazed at his reflection in the water – his gleaming eyes, flowing locks and angelic face – and as if spellbound reached out to himself, only to catch water.

He frantically tried to embrace himself, the one thing he confided in, but could not. His tears blend with the fountain’s streams as he cries in despair.

“Why? Even my own self betrays me! Reaching out to me, only to be denied by the veil of water! Please, stay! The empty attention and endless distaste! I cannot bear it without you!”

Narcissus pleaded and begged into the waves, erratically tearing out at himself in his madness, his clothes torn and chest bleeding red. Eventually his madness gives way to exhaustion as he falls to the ground, staining the greenery with blood, his form a shadow of what it once was.

“Alas, my love, fate rips me from my one salvation, and sadness is too much to bear living with! Please, let me lie and bask in my love for one last moment, so that I may know peace…”

His mind going dark, Narcissus could have sworn he heard his cry repeat in the wind.

His body was found by the naiads and dryads, whose lamentations wound through the trees for hours in remembrance of their brother.

When they came back from preparing the funeral pyre, there was strangely no body to be found. In place of their brother was a flower, petals white with a heart of red and yellow in the center. The confused murmurs among Narcissus’ sisters echoed without answer.

(Narcissus radiiflorus, created by Tigerente, a user on Wikimedia Commons, on April 3rd, 2006)

A wind only in service of others. A flower content in itself. Their true nature locked in solitude.

Author's Note: As is evident, this is a retelling of the story of Narcissus, a gorgeous boy so obsessed with himself that it becomes his undoing, giving us the term of "narcissist", and Echo, a nymph forced to repeat what others say, whose weeping carried on the wind as her body decayed, giving the origin of the phenomenon of echoing itself.

Rather than being a simple retelling, I wanted to expand on the characters of Echo and Narcissus, turning them into more sympathetic characters, making the ending much more tragic. This was simple for me to imagine for Echo, but Narcissus is where I had to really strech my brain to turn him into an understandable character.

I felt it was wholly unrealistic for someone to be utterly consumed by themselves in such a direct way, but with an outside influence, the attention given to Narcissus received as unwanted, turning him into somewhat of a recluse, this self-centered mindset made more sense to me, and I hoped it put a good twist on his character, drilling the tragedy home of two souls acting for their own peace, but fate and the expectations of others dealing a cruel hand.

From there it was just a matter of touching up some of the words to make it flow more cohesively and get it within the maximum word count. Whatever the case, I hope there's something you can take away from this and give feedback on!

Bibliography

Ovid's Metamorphoses: Echo and Narcissus, both translated by Tony Kline in 2000