Prometheus Bound and Prometheus Unbound

Source of book: I own a Heritage hardback with both of these works paired. 

The Greek myths continue to speak to us today - after all, they are an example of how we humans use stories as our most powerful way of grappling with the imponderables. While the language (even in translation) of the ancient Greeks often seems unfamiliar, the eternal questions still ring true. 

 Prometheus Bound by Peter Paul Rubens

The story of Prometheus has fascinated for at least three thousand years. One of the Titans, he and his family ruled the world before the Olympian gods overthrew them. Prometheus stole fire and gave it to the humans, enraging Zeus, who chained Prometheus to a rock and sent an eagle to eat his liver.

Prometheus Bound is a play traditionally attributed to Aeschylus, but now believed by some scholars to have been written earlier by an unknown playwright. It was apparently the first in a trilogy, but, alas, the others have been lost to the ravages of time. From other writers, it is believed that the other plays completed the story through the release of Prometheus by Heracles and the reconciliation with Zeus. However, the philosophical ideas in those later plays remain unknown to us. I mention this because Prometheus Bound has little action, but a lot of philosophical discussion. 

Much later, English poet Percy Bysshe Shelley decided to write his own response and conclusion to the play, in an extended poem entitled Prometheus Unbound. At a library sale last year, I was able to purchase a gorgeous hardback containing both works, along with an insightful introduction by Rex Warner, the translator, and Mary Shelley’s afterword to her husband’s poem. 

While I have referred to the earlier work as a play and the later as a poem, this fails to describe both works adequately. They are actually quite similar in format, with very little action, and a lot of dialogue. It is believed, however, that the Greek play was indeed performed, while Shelley didn’t actually intend his work to be performed as a play. Either would be difficult to stage for modern audiences, honestly, because of the lack of dialogue and extensive symbolism. 

Aeschylus changes the Prometheus myth a bit from the earlier version by Hesiod. Rather than paint Prometheus as a trickster justly punished by the noble Zeus, he portrays Prometheus as a noble martyr, unjustly punished by Zeus despite all that Prometheus did for him. In Hesiod’s version, the result of Prometheus’ gift of fire was that humans had to work for their bread - and worse, they were given the first woman, Pandora, who would be a curse on males thereafter. (Misogynist much?) In contrast, Aeschylus has Prometheus give crucial assistance to Zeus, which Zeus resents later because it detracts from his glory. Also, Zeus decides to eliminate humanity. The gift of fire - and a warning - allows humankind to survive. And leaves Zeus nursing a nasty grudge. Hence, Prometheus is chained to the rock and gets his liver eaten. 

Prometheus has a secret, however: he knows how Zeus may eventually be overthrown. That secret will eventually lead to his release and reconciliation, but during this play at least, it only inflames Zeus’ rage. 

The link between the two plays comes from Prometheus’ revelation that fire wasn’t the only thing he gave to humanity. He also taught them the civilizing arts which allowed them to rise above their animal natures. In Shelley’s poem, this idea of Prometheus as the embodiment of human aspiration and progress is given full treatment. Prometheus is first tormented more by Jupiter (Shelley uses the Roman names, not the Greek ones), but change is on its way. Instead of having Jupiter and Prometheus reconcile, Shelley envisions Jupiter overthrown. The Oceanids, primarily Asia, Ione, and Panthea, figure prominently in the play, first visiting Demogorgon in the underworld, then riding out with the Demogorgon and the Hours to see the fall of Jupiter. The Earth itself turns against Jupiter and his arrogant boasting. The poem then switches focus to a hopeful view of progress and the future. 

In some ways, Shelley’s optimism seems dated - it is of its time, the heady 19th Century, when human progress seemed assured. And, in retrospect, this wasn’t entirely wrong. Humans have made tremendous ethical progress over the last few centuries, although it hasn’t been in a straight line. However, the old tribalism has never died (and indeed has had a good decade lately), and Prometheus Unbound, like other progress poems of the era seems a bit naive. 

But the language is certainly glorious. For that matter, there is nothing whatsoever wrong with envisioning better days, better things, better ideas. So much of the apocalyptic literature in the Bible, for example, is utopian in that sense. The lion and the lamb and all, swords into plowshares, and so on. We need the inspiration of the poets who envision a better world - which we can work toward creating. 

Although very different, the two works do fit together well, and I am glad I read them back to back. 

There are so many great lines, I have to quote a few, starting with Prometheus Bound. There is an exchange between the chorus and Prometheus early in the play, regarding how Prometheus went beyond just giving mankind fire. 

Chorus: But did you not perhaps go further than all this?

Prometheus: Yes. I stopped mortals from seeing their fate in advance.

Chorus: What cure did you find to charm away that sickness?

Prometheus: I settled unseeing hopes to dwell among them.

That’s brilliant. We do not know the future, but we have been given unseeing hope to envision a better future. (Again, Shelley takes this idea and runs with it.)     

Later in the play, Io visits Prometheus, on the run from a lustful Zeus and a vengeful Hera. I liked her description of how Zeus pursues her in her dreams.

There were always visions haunting my virgin bed

Night after night, and speaking kindly in my ears

With smooth sounds saying: ‘O most fortunate maiden,

Why keep so long your maidenhood, when you might make

The greatest match? Zeus is on fire with a shaft 

Of longing for you, and wants to join in love with you.

It is not for you, my child, to spurn aside the bed 

Of Zeus…’

Io, of course, is relevant to the story in different levels. She will be the ancestor of Herakles, who will free Prometheus. But she, like Prometheus, suffers unjustly as a result of the whims of the gods. Aeschylus also reveals her to be the potential spouse of Zeus who will lead to his downfall: her son with Zeus, if born, would overthrow him. But Aeschylus gets even more metaphorical with this. 

Io: And who will take from Zeus the sceptre of his power?

Prometheus: He will himself, he and his empty-headed plans.

Eventually, Io is driven from the scene by the Gadfly, sent by Hera to torment her. The chorus snarks a bit about the inadvisability of wedding a god. 

Wise, very wise was he

Who first found this ring true within his judgment

And with his tongue gave out the word:

Far the best thing is to wed within one’s station,

And, if one works for one’s living, not to long

For marriage with the glorious in wealth

Or with the families whose pride is birth.

Dang it! I guess fairy tales don’t come true. Actually, Aeschylus has a good point here: the rich - and the gods - are mostly assholes anyway. 

Those are the lines that stood out from Prometheus Bound. I found the philosophical questions to be fascinating, particularly the ageless Problem of Evil. 

Shelley, in his preface to Prometheus Unbound, makes it clear that he has no intention of following the outline of the known mythology. After all, even the Greek greats took liberties. “They by no means conceived themselves bound to adhere to the common interpretation or to imitate in story as in title their rivals and predecessors...Had I framed my story on this model, I should have done no more than have attempted to restore the lost drama of Aeschylus.” Furthermore, in Shelley’s view, reconciling Jupiter and Prometheus would have been to reconcile the champion of humankind with its oppressor. 

As an atheist, Shelley was controversial enough, but he took a pretty solid aim at religion from the opening lines, spoken by Prometheus in defiance of Jupiter. 

Monarch of Gods and Daemons, and all Spirits

But One, who throng those bright and rolling worlds

Which Thou and I alone of living things

Behold with sleepless eyes! regard this Earth

Made multitudinous with thy slaves, whom thou

Requitest for knee-worship, prayer, and praise,

And toil, and hetacombs of broken hearts,

With fear and self-contempt and barren hope. 

Looking back, this is how toxic religion works (in complete contrast to “pure religion” as described by Saint James): ruling with fear and self-contempt. In fact, that’s pretty much a good litmus test for toxic religion. If it relies on fear and telling you how bad you are, it’s toxic, and will have poisonous fruit. While I am not an atheist, I find that writers like Shelley tell the truth when it comes to the poison. 

Prometheus also responds later to Mercury, who has come to demand that Prometheus give up his information about Jupiter’s fate. He gives the usual “be humble and repent and submit” thing. Prometheus replies with an accusation:

                                                Evil minds

Change good to their own nature. I gave all

He has; and in return he chains me here 

Years, ages, night and day: whether the Sun

Split my parched skin, or in the moony night

The crystal-winged snow cling round my hair:

Whilst my beloved race is trampled down

By his thought-executing ministers.

Such is the tyrant’s recompense: ‘tis just:

He who is eval can receive no good;

And for a world bestowed, or a friend lost,

He can feel hate, fear, shame; not gratitude:

He but requites me for his own misdeeds. 

Mercury finally feels some pity, even as he cannot fathom why Prometheus defies the greater power. 

Prometheus: 

Pity the self-despising slaves of Heaven,

Not me, within whose mind sits peace serene,

As light in the sun, throned…

The chorus too is puzzled, and point out that mankind’s knowledge hasn’t been a universal blessing. After all, look at all the evil there is on earth - and all the evil that men do. And he isn’t even happy. 

Dost thou faint, mighty Titan? We laugh thee to scorn.

Dost thou boast the clear knowledge thou waken’dst for man?

Then was kindled within him a thirst which outran

Those perishing waters; a thirst of fierce fever,

Hope, love, doubt, desire, which consume him for ever. 

Looking on, Panthea and Ione see visions of the evil to come, including the sight of “a youth with patient looks nailed to a crucifix.” 

The heaven around, the earth below

Was peopled with thick shapes of human death, 

All horrible, and wrought by human hands,

And some appeared the work of human hearts,

For men were slowly killed by frowns and smiles. 

Prometheus himself is struck by the sight of Christ, and speaks some amazing words about that. 

Remit the anguish of that lighted stare;

Close those wan lips; let that thorn-wounded brow

Stream not with blood; it mingles with thy tears!

Fix, fix those tortured orbs in peace and death,

So thy sick throes shake not that crucifix,

So those pale fingers play not with thy gore.

O, horrible! Thy name I will not speak,

It hath become a curse. I see, I see

The wise, the mild, the lofty, and the just,

Whom thy slaves hate for being like to thee.

Just, wow. This is exactly what we are seeing unfold in our own time. Those who have bastardized the name of Christ hunt and hate those who most resemble Christ, and worship an orange idol who is the polar opposite of the one they claim to follow. 

But change is coming. Even the chorus admits it, and looks forward to the future. 

In the atmosphere we breathe,

As buds grow red when the snow-storms flee,

From Spring gathering up beneath 

Whose mild winds shake the elder brake,

And the wandering herdsmen know

That the white-thorn soon will blow:

Wisdom, Justice, Love, and Peace,

When they struggle to increase,,

Are to us as soft winds be 

To shepherd boys, the prophecy

Which begins and ends in thee. 

These pairings of four (or five) virtues or personified nobilities recur throughout in various forms. Here is another one, from Panthea:

Hither the sound has borne us--to the realm

Of Demogorgon, and the mighty portal,

Like a volcano’s meteor-breathing chasm,

Whence the oracular vapour is hurled up

Which lonely men drink wandering in their youth,

And call truth, virtue, love, genius, or joy,

That maddening wine of life, whose dregs they drain

To deep intoxication: and uplift,

Like Maenads who cry loud, Evoe! Evoe!

The voice which is contagion to the world. 

Much of the second half of the poem is very atmospheric, with a phantasmic and symbolic setting, and an ongoing conversation between Panthea, Asia, and Ione with various spirits. If you like romantic-era flights of poetic fancy, this is some of the most sublime. Here is just one word picture that I loved. 

Look how the gusty sea of mist is breaking

In crimson foam, even at our feet! It rises

As Ocean at the enchantment of the moon

Round foodless men wrecked on some oozy isle.

That swerve in the last line gets me. Suddenly, we have starving men on a desert island. 

Asia has the guts to question Demogorgon about the problem of evil. And Shelley does hit on a problem with monotheism in general: who created evil? There are no easy answers to this - which is why we are still talking about them thousands of years later. In Shelley’s view, mankind was originally born free - and Prometheus (as a metaphor) gave wisdom and strength to Jupiter, who failed to heed the warning to let mankind be free. Thus, mankind was shackled to tribalism and evil resulted. 

To know nor faith, nor love, nor law; to be

Omnipotent but friendless is to reign;

And Jove now reigned; for on the race of man

First famine, and then toil, and then disease,

Strife, wounds, and ghastly death unseen before,

Fell; and the unseasonable seasons drove

With alternating shafts of frost and fire,

Their shelterless, pale tribes to mountain caves:

And in their desert hearts fierce wants he sent,

And mad disquietudes, and shadows idle

Of unreal good, which levied mutual war,

So ruining the lair wherein they raged. 

Asia hopes to see better, of course. Demogorgon asks why she wants to know. 

                                    If the abysm

Could vomit forth its secrets...But a voice

Is wanting, the deep truth is imageless;

For what would it avail to bid thee gaze

On the revolting world? What to bid speak

Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Change? To these

All things are subject but eternal Love.

The very end of the work sums up this theme that ultimately, Love must triumph. It is interesting that Shelley, though not religious, seems to be more in tune with the teachings of Christ than most “christians.” Here are the final stanzas of the poem, spoken by Demogorgon. 

This is the day, which down the void abysm

At the Earth-born's spell yawns for Heaven's despotism,

And Conquest is dragged captive through the deep:

Love, from its awful throne of patient power

In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour

Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,

And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs

And folds over the world its healing wings.

Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance,

These are the seals of that most firm assurance

Which bars the pit over Destruction's strength;

And if, with infirm hand, Eternity,

Mother of many acts and hours, should free

The serpent that would clasp her with his length;

These are the spells by which to re-assume

An empire o'er the disentangled doom.

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;

To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;

To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;

To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates

From its own wreck the thing it contemplates:

Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;

This, like thy glory, Titan! is to be

Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;

This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory!