WORLDLY

The Greek Myth of Narcissus and Echo, Retold

by Sasha Tobago

In the verdant hills of ancient Greece, there once lived a young man named Narcissus, whose beauty was unrivaled and admired throughout the land.

His hair shimmered like Jason’s Golden Fleece. His eyes glistened like Poseidon’s deep blue sea.

Narcissus turned heads wherever he roamed, and many flocked to bask in his hypnotic charm and his earthbound beauty.

Among those who fell under his spell was Echo, a nymph cursed to always repeat the last words spoken in her presence.

Oh, how she longed to express her love to Narcissus. Yet whenever she tried, all that emerged were mere echoes of her beloved’s last words.

Heartbroken yet hopeful, day after day, she followed him as he peacocked about town. Longing to regale him with the poetry in her heart.

One morning, as Narcissus explored an uncharted forest, he happened upon a mesmerizing lake nestled in an enchanting glade. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the world around it like a divine mirror.

As he knelt at the water’s edge, he caught sight of his reflection, dancing seductively on the surface. In that moment, time stood still, and the world around him faded, ever so slowly, into obscurity.

“My, what beauty!” he whispered. “Surely, I must be the son of Aphrodite.”

Unable to look away, he marveled at the sculpted perfection before him. At the perfect bow of his lips. The perfect chisel of his jaw. The perfectly symmetrical diameter of his pupils.

Surely such perfection surpasses all the wonders of the world, he mused.

Days turned into weeks as Narcissus knelt entranced, lost in the depths of his own self-image. He failed to see the heart-wrenching gaze of Echo, who watched over him quietly from the forest’s canopy.

The world continued to twirl around them; summer fell into autumn; the harvest moon waxed and waned. All the while, Narcissus remained devoted and enchanted by his reflection. His self-absorption was all-consuming; blinding and deafening him to everyone and everything.

Echo watched with sorrow and horror as her beloved’s mind, body and soul withered before her very eyes.

“Narcissus! My love!” she cried out, as she fainted into a deep sleep from starvation and exhaustion.

Yet, all that was heard was the sound of Narcissus’s last known words, echoing from the neighboring hills and dells:

My, what beauty! Surely, I must be the son of Aphrodite.

Echo’s echo of despair was so loud, so powerful, it rippled across the lake’s surface. Causing Narcissus’s enchanting reflection to twist and bend in an excruciating fashion.

With a wounded cry, he leaned forward to grasp hold of his image; to rescue and restore it to divine perfection.

As he did so, he lost his grip on earth and reality, and fell face-first into the lake’s unforgiving depths. In all his years of preening and peacocking, he had never bothered to learn how to swim.

What an injustice for such beauty to perish so violently, he thought, as he sunk into a deep, eternal slumber.

Months later, when winter soared into spring, delicate flowers began to bloom where Narcissus once knelt.