"The face of our own rage"- a feminist interpretation of Greek mythological figure Medusa and female rage.
By Gabby Tuzzeo
The most familiar mythology rendition of Medusa is that of a young, beautiful Gorgon, admired by Poseidon who consequently raped her in Athena’s temple. In a fit of jealous rage, Athena cursed Medusa, transforming her into a feared and hideous monster with serpent hair and the ability to turn men into stone. Perseus later defeated Medusa and weaponised her power by cutting off her head to be mounted on a shield.
The mythological tale is a patriarchal horror story. A sexual assault victim turned serpent monster. Yet she is alluring and represents the ‘dangers’ of female sex appeal. She was a woman who could lure men to their deaths if they dared look upon her; an opposing force of intimidating power and lust.
Stone men and villainous women
Unsurprisingly, the origins of her story, and her status as a victim of sexual assault has been overshadowed by her ability to turn men into stone. Her ultimate demise at the hands of Perseus is celebrated in Greek mythology as a villain slain.
But recently, feminists have started to claim Medusa as their own, debunking generations of male scholars who sought to use the Medusa complex to demonise female power and authority.
Benvenuto Cellini, Perseus with the Head of Medusa, 1545-1554
Key historical artwork depicting Medusa includes Cellini’s famous statue Perseus with the Head of Medusa. The sculpture stands in the Piazza della Signoria, depicting a triumphant Perseus holding Medusa’s severed head aloft. Carravaggio’s painting of Medusa hangs in the Uffitzi Gallery, where she is similarly portrayed as monstrous and scary.
However, Luciano Garbati’s recent 2008 sculpture shows Medusa holding the head of Perseus, looking stern, strong and unforgiving. His work acknowledges Medusa’s rape and consequent punishment, and questions “what would her victory look like?” Medusa’s re-imagined victory over Perseus is the perfect avatar for female indignation and rage.
Luciano Garbati, Medusa with the Head of Perseus, 2008
Similarly Judy Takác’s 2018 oil on canvas titled Me(Dusa)Too represents a feminist take on the mythological tale, depicting Medusa not as evil or vengeful, but soft and womanly, reminding us all that she was a victim before a monster.
Emily Erwin Culpepper wrote "The Amazon Gorgon face is female fury personified. The Gorgon/Medusa image has been rapidly adopted by large numbers of feminists who recognize her as one face of our own rage.”
The face of her own rage
The traditional myth blames Medusa’s beauty and allure for her assault. Poseidon could not resist her beauty, and so Athena punishes Medusa for this. The story has questionable morals and has arguably left the door open for generations of scholars to place blame on women and demonize female sexuality. The image of a monstrous woman is used to belittle, shame and discourage powerful women, teaching them to adhere to the status quo and remember their place.
Medusa’s tale is also representative of a problematic victim blaming culture. Her story, a woman shamed for her own assault, punished and ultimately killed rings too true in modern society. All over the world women suffer the same patterned fate; blamed, silenced and killed. We still hear the phrases “her own fault”, “asking for it”, “what was she wearing?” too often in modern day rape trials.
One feminist interpretation of the myth addresses the problematic victim blaming culture, suggesting that Athena’s punishment was actually a gift to Medusa. To the male gods, it would appear Medusa had been punished, her looks (and by extension her worth as a woman) removed, but Athena gifted Medusa with the power to defend herself from future attacks. She turned her into a weapon against male entitlement, her body an untouchable force.
As Mary Beard illustrated in her manifesto, the image of Medusa is used to target and bring down powerful women even in modern times. Medusa represents the ‘angry, powerful women’, the threat to a patriarchal society.
The Medusa Analogy
Margaret Thatcher, Hilary Clinton and Angela Merkel have all fallen victim to the Medusa analogy. Theresa May was dubbed ‘The Medusa of Maidenhead’ and ‘Maydusa.’ Clinton’s face was superimposed on the image of Cellini’s bronze statue, with Trump as Perseus and Clinton as Medusa’s severed head, representing his control and authority over her. The ‘hero who tamed the beast’ as such. Angela Merkel and Theresa May’s heads have previously been photoshopped on Caravaggio’s Head of Medusa painting, condemning them to be on par with the most famous female monster.
In 2016 Elizabeth Johnston rightly pointed out “strong women have historically been imagined as threats requiring male conquest and control, and Medusa herself has long been the go-to figure for those seeking to demonise female authority.”
Female rage and indignation in response is understandable. Medusa’s tale is a caution to all women. An example of what not to be. “Don’t be too angry, don’t be too powerful, don’t be stronger than men”. Her image and name are used negatively to keep powerful women in their rightful place by demonising their strength and abilities.
Damned if we don’t
Frustratingly, to react with rage, anger and passion only fuels the Medusa narrative that women are out of control, dangerous and must be defeated, but to react cool and collectively dubs us ‘ice queens.’ To that extent Medusa represents a woman punished for the wrongdoing of another and denounced for her methods in taking back her power. She is a representation of the struggles many modern women face today, in which we are damned if we do and damned if we don’t.
During her life she was a perceived as a monster, her beheading showing direct opposition to a powerful female force. However, as the story goes, Athena ultimately used Medusa’s severed head as a protective amulet on her shield as a force to ward off evil and protect herself.
Conceivably, Athena’s actions after Medusa’s death are a tribute to the ‘serpent monster’s’ undeniable power and represents a final united female front. Two women joined together, woman and shield, against those who would seek to harm them again.
Gabby Tuzzeo is a freelance writer based in London who specialises in articles that celebrate women. You’ll often find her on the hunt for cake and coffee shops, typing away behind a laptop, or with her nose buried in a book.
Read more of Gabby’s work here.