Arachne

By Megan Powell

There lived a young mortal woman named Arachne, famed for her skill as a weaver. People traveled far and paid much to buy her wares.

"No mere mortal could weave such fine cloth," people boasted, out of honest admiration and a desire to justify the expense. "Arachne must be touched by the gods."

After a time, Arachne herself began to believe this. "Come, see what I weave!" she would say. "I am more skilled than Athene herself!"

Athene heard of this girl's skill, and her boasting. The domestic crafts were within Athene's province; a mortal skilled at weaving pleased her. She was less pleased at Arachne's apparent disrespect.

So Athene took on the form of a mortal, and went down to see Arachne's work. The weaving was fine indeed, and the disguised goddess complimented Arachne.

"I am more skilled than any god or mortal; my prices are justified," Arachne replied.

"I did not come here to barter, merely to look for myself and see if your reputation was warranted. I think that it is. I also think you should show more respect for the gods. You have been given a gift; show your gratitude."

"Thank you for your opinion," Arachne said, in an unfriendly tone. "But why should I not take credit for my own skill? I work on my cloth, while the gods sport among themselves and the nymphs."

This angered Athene, in large part because she, also, disapproved of some of the activities of her fellow gods. But it was one thing for an immortal to disapprove, and quite another for a mortal to do so.

With a flash of light, Athene revealed herself. "I am the goddess Athene. If not for me, mortals would be little better than animals. You are skilled, but you should honor those who came before, those who taught."

Arachne was clearly awed at Athene's appearance, but not for the reasons the goddess hoped. "If you can prove that you are more skilled than I--"

Athene frowned. "I am a goddess. It is hardly a fair contest."

"Then you have nothing to fear," Arachne said. "Prove that you are the better weaver."

"Very well," Athene agreed, and so two looms were brought out, and Arachne and the goddess began to weave.

Athene, wanting to demonstrate her divine nature as well as her skill, wove impossibly fast. A crowd had gathered, and they admired her work: the pattern she wove was the city of Athens, in all its beauty.

When Athene had finished, she inspected Arachne's work. The girl's weaving was skillful, limited only by the materials she used. But the technical details did not hold Athene's attention. Though Arachne's pattern was still unfinished, the theme was clear. She had pictured the gods at their worst, illustrating Zeus's seduction of various nymphs and mortals.

"This contest is finished," Athene declared, and tore Arachne's work to shreds. "I teach mortals this skill, and you are ungrateful. I deign to weave beside you, at your whim, and you dare to mock the gods. You are unworthy of speech and expression." And with that, Athene touched Arachne, and transformed her into a spider. Arachne scurried away, still blessed with a weaver's skill, but condemned to remake her work in the dark corners of men's homes.

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