Ariadne’s Snake and Daedalus’ Labyrinth, Part 1
Many ancient religions worshipped a serpentine Goddess, as the snake was seen as a positive symbol of rebirth and fertility due to the shedding of its skin. I’ve been thinking about the Minoan snake goddess, Ariadne, whom some scholars argue was actually a weaving goddess. Weaving women were partially deified for creating the practical protection of clothing and textiles, and so weaving goddesses symbolize both protection and wisdom. Scholars argue that depictions of Ariadne with what appear to be snakes may actually be cords or threads. This is a fair interpretation because not only are the depictions ambiguous, but this interpretation would be supported by the fact that, in the mythology, Ariadne helps Theseus through Dadaelus’ labyrinth with a thread. I think it’s possible to accept that it’s both, that the first part of her story involves the heroic and protective use of a thread, while her own fate involves rebirth, and so in her story arc there appears an identity, or at least a synthesis, between the symbolism of a thread and a snake. The snake is also a symbol of wisdom in Greek mythology, so I think we can read the myth of Ariadne and Theseus in a way which supports the belief that she was the Minoan snake goddess, demonstrated in the protective, practical, and wise snaking of a thread through the labyrinth.
My interpretation of this myth begins with Daedalus the brilliant inventor. Popularly considered a symbol of wisdom, I argue that wisdom is precisely what his genius lacked. Remember Icarus, the one who flew too close to the sun? Daedalus was his father, the one who crafted his wings from wax and feathers. A popular takeaway from the fate of Icarus is this cautionary lesson that the pursuit of glory can lead to one’s own destruction. But there’s another layer here, something I didn’t realize until I read other myths involving Daedalus. Without further context, Daedalus simply appears as a brilliantly creative and capable inventor. Like a weaver, he takes from nature and manipulates it into something…but is that something really helpful? Isn’t there a difference between what can be useful and what is really practical? In all the myths involving him, Daedalus is creating something simply because someone asked him to. He repeatedly supplies the means for someone to fulfill their desire, without questioning the nature of that desire. In doing so, his own desire for glory is achieved in his act of building what someone else desired, and, handing over his invention, he wipes his hands clean of responsibility for what follows. The real tragedy of Icarus is not that he flew too close to the sun in a blind pursuit of glory, but that his own father, in his blind pursuit of glory, made the wings with which his son’s self-destruction became possible.
Over and over again, Daedalus’ inventions effect disaster due to their misguided nature. When King Minos’ wife fell in love with a bull, she asked Daedalus to build something that would disguise her to look like a bull, and he obliged. She then used it to seduce the bull, resulting in the conception of the deadly minotaur. King Minos wanted to protect his people from the minotaur, openly isolating him, so he asked Daedalus to build a clever labyrinth, and he obliged. King Minos put the minotaur in the center of the labyrinth, where he was free to roam but certainly not clever enough to escape it. Daedalus’ labyrinth was so difficult to navigate, it is said that he almost got trapped in it himself. King Minos fed children to the minotaur by forcing them into the labyrinth, trapping them with a voracious killer. Specifically, these were children shipped over from Athens, whose lives he demanded as reparations for the death of his son in battle. This is where our ‘hero’ Theseus comes in. Theseus of Athens decided to put an end to all this by sailing to Crete and destroying the minotaur.
King Minos had made his daughter Ariadne guard the entrance to the labyrinth, which is why she is also referred to as the “mistress of the labyrinth.” Her role was protective, ensuring that no one from her father’s kingdom entered the labyrinth where they would surely be killed by the minotaur. But when Theseus arrived at the entrance, insisting on going in to kill the minotaur in order to save the lives of the Athenian children, Ariadne fell in love with him. She desired for his mission to be successful, not only that he kill the minotaur, but that he survive the labyrinth, so she asked Daedalus to invent a mechanism which would ensure his return. Daedalus gave her a spool of red thread, which she then gave to Theseus.
As Theseus made his way in the labyrinth, Ariadne held the end of the thread while he held the unraveling spool. He reached the center and heroically defeated the minotaur, then made his way back out of this symbolic hellhole without getting lost and trapped in it, thanks to Ariadne’s thread. Ariadne’s love was selfless because she could have selfishly stopped Theseus from going on this suicide mission by telling her father of his plan. Instead, she made his mission her own mission and collaborated on a plan to solve a real problem.
In all of this, and despite the positive outcome, Daedalus has not redeemed himself. He has not learned from the cascading disasters of his prior inventions. Just as before, he is simply meeting a request without concerning himself any further; he is not morally concerned with solving Ariadne and Theseus’ problem. His invention meeting Ariadne’s request was done in the same manner as any other; without any consideration or value-judgement regarding her motivations, or for how she might use it and what, if any, harm might result. Luckily for him, Ariadne’s request was made from a place of virtuous love and protection, rather than senseless desire or the pursuit of glory. If Daedalus could be said to be redeemed it is ultimately only by the grace of Ariadne’s love.
Theseus, Aradne, and Daedalus form an inseparable triad in the significance of this myth. Theseus’ virtuous courage lacks social cooperation, where his willingness to act alone will ultimately lead to his own destruction. Daedalus’ virtuous creativity lacks value-judgement, where his smart inventions lead to the destruction of others. It is Ariadne’s virtuous love then which triangulates what is lacking in both Theseus and Daedalus. Only together are they elevated to practical, life-giving wisdom in the collaborative application of their collective will to action.
In Part 2, I will turn my discussion to the triad of Theseus, Ariadne, and the labyrinth, as well as the fate of Ariadne following the myth of the labyrinth, furthering my point that she is rightfully the Minoan snake goddess. But for now, I leave off with this:
Daedalus is the alienated worker; estranged from producing according to real need as well as from the effects of his labor. Daedalus is AI “creatively hallucinating;” inventing something from false consciousness and so not to be trusted for what is good and true. And finally, we may also consider that Daedalus is the capitalist who sells us the rope with which we will hang him.