Pandora.
Her name means "all gifts".
She was created as a punishment to men for Prometheus's gift of fire. She was given to Prometheus's brother Epimetheus to marry, and along with her Zeus sent a locked box which was never to be opened. Zeus gave the key to Epimetheus to keep, with stern admonishments to never, ever, under any circumstances, open that box.
So of course, Pandora wanted to know what was in there.
Of course she did.
Who wouldn't?
Humans are curious.
We want to know how things tick, and why, and if we can make them tick better, or fix them when they stop ticking. We poke and tinker and futz and finagle, some by turning to gods and myths and some by turning to science, and we keep after trying to figure things out, down the rabbit hole and damn the consequences, until we have answers...or more questions.
Pandora kept asking Epimetheus to let her open the box. Zeus kept reminding them not to open it. Especially when Pandora had a handle on her curiosity, Zeus would whisper to her not to go bothering with that box, now, don't forget.
Eventually Pandora managed to get the box open. I imagine the lock squealed dire warnings as she turned the key. I imagine the lid creaked ominously as she lifted it. I imagine there was darkness, silence, as the lid came to a rest and the contents were finally revealed.
The silence was shattered by the sound of every torment hitherto unknown to humanity cackling, gibbering, howling, shrieking, leaping into flight or clambering over the sides of the box, released from imprisonment and free to wreak their havoc upon the earth. As they fled, each creature called out its name - war, hunger, hatred, death, fear, sorrow, pestilence, envy, need, and every other negative or unpleasant feeling and experience rushing forth, a box of angry hornets buzzing out to the corners of the world to sting and sting, relentlessly hounding us, our idyllic life suddenly changed in radical ways that we couldn't understand and likely never will.
Poor Pandora.
Reviled for her curiosity, her humanness. I've noticed that no one ever gets mad at Zeus for being so petty. He made the box, after all, and filled it up with all of those delightful presents. He was the one who wouldn't let it rest, wouldn't let Pandora have any peace.
Pandora wept when she realized what she'd done. She'd unleashed a kind of horror that would never end, could never again be boxed up, contained, again.
As she wept, she heard a whisper. A soft rustle. The barest hint of a sound.
It came from the box.
Pandora looked inside, thinking that maybe she could keep at least one terrible thing from escaping.
There, in the back corner, shining brightly in the shadows, was a tiny thing. Pale, minute, and beautiful, it reached for her. She lifted it from the box.
Hope, it said. I am Hope.
I stand and face every dark thing, every shade, every nightmare, every misery, all of the things that drive you to the brink of madness and despair. I am Hope.
Hope.
Was it worth it?
Before Pandora opened up that box of curiosities, we didn't know anything about how unhappy we could be. We didn't hurt each other, take what belonged to others, seek to own or dominate or eradicate.
But...
We also didn't have hope. Before Pandora, humans led a hopeless existence.
She didn't just curse us with all of those evils. She gifted us with Hope.
We are the better for it.
Her name means "all gifts".
She was created as a punishment to men for Prometheus's gift of fire. She was given to Prometheus's brother Epimetheus to marry, and along with her Zeus sent a locked box which was never to be opened. Zeus gave the key to Epimetheus to keep, with stern admonishments to never, ever, under any circumstances, open that box.
So of course, Pandora wanted to know what was in there.
Of course she did.
Who wouldn't?
Humans are curious.
We want to know how things tick, and why, and if we can make them tick better, or fix them when they stop ticking. We poke and tinker and futz and finagle, some by turning to gods and myths and some by turning to science, and we keep after trying to figure things out, down the rabbit hole and damn the consequences, until we have answers...or more questions.
Pandora kept asking Epimetheus to let her open the box. Zeus kept reminding them not to open it. Especially when Pandora had a handle on her curiosity, Zeus would whisper to her not to go bothering with that box, now, don't forget.
Eventually Pandora managed to get the box open. I imagine the lock squealed dire warnings as she turned the key. I imagine the lid creaked ominously as she lifted it. I imagine there was darkness, silence, as the lid came to a rest and the contents were finally revealed.
The silence was shattered by the sound of every torment hitherto unknown to humanity cackling, gibbering, howling, shrieking, leaping into flight or clambering over the sides of the box, released from imprisonment and free to wreak their havoc upon the earth. As they fled, each creature called out its name - war, hunger, hatred, death, fear, sorrow, pestilence, envy, need, and every other negative or unpleasant feeling and experience rushing forth, a box of angry hornets buzzing out to the corners of the world to sting and sting, relentlessly hounding us, our idyllic life suddenly changed in radical ways that we couldn't understand and likely never will.
Poor Pandora.
Reviled for her curiosity, her humanness. I've noticed that no one ever gets mad at Zeus for being so petty. He made the box, after all, and filled it up with all of those delightful presents. He was the one who wouldn't let it rest, wouldn't let Pandora have any peace.
Pandora wept when she realized what she'd done. She'd unleashed a kind of horror that would never end, could never again be boxed up, contained, again.
As she wept, she heard a whisper. A soft rustle. The barest hint of a sound.
It came from the box.
Pandora looked inside, thinking that maybe she could keep at least one terrible thing from escaping.
There, in the back corner, shining brightly in the shadows, was a tiny thing. Pale, minute, and beautiful, it reached for her. She lifted it from the box.
Hope, it said. I am Hope.
I stand and face every dark thing, every shade, every nightmare, every misery, all of the things that drive you to the brink of madness and despair. I am Hope.
Hope.
Was it worth it?
Before Pandora opened up that box of curiosities, we didn't know anything about how unhappy we could be. We didn't hurt each other, take what belonged to others, seek to own or dominate or eradicate.
But...
We also didn't have hope. Before Pandora, humans led a hopeless existence.
She didn't just curse us with all of those evils. She gifted us with Hope.
We are the better for it.
As a kid when I first encountered this story, I often thought how Hope must have been so grateful to have been also let out. Can you imagine Hope stuffed in there with all those awful other Things? And, it also goes to show how women have always been feared by men. We never teach our girls that it's women who do these things to free our minds and our bondage against blindness of being. Thank you, Eve. Thank you Pandora. Thank you Women.
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