Amaryllis, a name to keep – Part 2
In my last post, I mentioned I’d publish a fleshed out version of how the flower Amaryllis belladonna got its name. I did expand it from the two- or three-sentence summaries I found online. The ending section could be expanded further, but for now, I’m going to leave it as is because I realized in working on it that it’s not really a good story for me add to my budding live storytelling repertoire. It might be that if I let it be for a while, I’ll find additional dimensions to it that I could explore to make it resonate more for me. We’ll see.
Amaryllis belladonna
Last month the flowers were drooping. Now they’re all gone.
The naming of Amaryllis belladonna
By Laura McHale Holland
Amaryllis a gorgeous nymph in ancient Greece loved to mingle with mortals during seasonal festivals at a bustling village near the olive grove where she lived. During one particular festival, a handsome young shepherd, caught her eye. She knew immediately this was Alteo, who was rumored to be as beautiful as Apollo and strong as Hercules. He was talking with other village men and tapping his foot to melodies played by locals. She approached him, swaying and swiveling in time to the music and was shocked when even her best moves did not draw him in.
Amaryllis left the festival determined to win Alteo's favor. But how? she wondered. Then she got an idea. She journeyed to a secret grove where honey bees made the best honey in the world. It was a hazardous trek, and the bees stung her face and hands, but she got enough honey to fill a precious ceramic vessel, which she then took to Alteo. He was in a meadow bent over a patch of wildflowers while his sheep grazed nearby. He sampled the honey, nodded without speaking and turned away. Dejected, she left the vessel by his feet and returned to her olive grove.
Sitting in a branch, she remembered Alteo tapping his foot music. She decided to create a song for him alone. Surely that would make him fall for her. So she took her instrument to a cave and was gone for several days. When she returned she found Alteo in a small valley with his sheep. She sat on a hillside near him and played and sang with all her heart. He looked up briefly and turned away.
Then she noticed a lamb thrashing and bleeting, stuck in a thorny bush. She rushed to the lamb, freed it from its entanglement and carried it to Alteo. Once again he barely acknowledged her and turned away. On the verge of tears, Amaryllis sped toward her olive grove. On the way, she encountered Alteo's mother and said in exasperation, "That son of yours has a heart of stone!"
The woman regarded her with sorrowful eyes. "No, no, that is untrue. He's a sweet and loving as they come."
"What's wrong with him, then?" Amaryllis asked.
"It's a sad, hopeless, situation You see, the goddess Aphrodite came upon my Alteo one day a realized the rumors about his god-like beauty and strength were true. She wanted him for herself immediately. But, you see, my son didn't want to be the prize of some powerful goddess. He wanted true love in his own true life. This angered Aphrodite, who said, 'If I can't have you, no one will! From this day on, you will never be able to fall in love, you will not have a wife and family, you will be lonely until your dying day unless ...' But then she paused, thinking she had to do something to appear to soften this for the sake of her reputation. Then she continued 'unless you can find a flower unique in all the world, one that no one has seen before.' And she laughed, certain she'd given him an impossible task.
"That's plain cruel," Amaryllis said. "I love your son, but I don't know what I can do."
"You're not the first to want to rid him of this curse, and you won't be the last."
Amaryllis returned to her olive grove, eyes downcast, feeling like winning Alteo's love was now an insurmountable task. She went to sleep that night full of sorrow, but then in the morning she had a new idea. She journeyed to the Oracle of Delphi in Apollo's temple, a place she found imposing as she walked toward it on a stone path. Inside she was met by a priest. She told him of her dilemna and appealed for help. The priest stepped further into the temple to an area where thick mist was rising. Amaryllis could see only a shadowy form beyond it. He conveyed the request and, and after a pause, the response came in a poem Amaryllis couldn't make sense of. But the priest offered an interpretation: To break the curse and win Alteo's heart Amaryllis must go to his door each night for thirty days, and each night she must pierce her heart with a golden arrow, letting her blood flow onto the ground.
So Amaryllis, uncertain she could do such a dreadful thing to herself, determined to accomplish the task. From the very first night, it was excruciatingly painful to pierce her heart, and it weakened her to lose so much blood. Each night, it took her longer and longer to drag herself there. Each night it was harder and harder to pierce her heart. But she persisted. And on the last night, the 30th night, when Amaryllis was close to death, she pierced her heart with the golden arrow one last time, her blood splashed onto the ground, and up sprang a beautiful pink flower with a study, leafless stem. Alteo came out, saw the flower and found Amaryllis crumpled on the ground. Aphridite cried out in pain, for she'd been watching and saw that the curse she'd thought ironclad was now broken. Alteo, moved by Amaryllis' grit and devotion, carried her into his hut and, with the help of his mother, nursed her to health.
And that is how Alteo came to love Amaryllis and why the flower we see in meadows and along the shoulders of our roads and driveways each summer, the flower that perseveres and comes up every year under harsh conditions, is named Amaryllis belladonna after her.