Transgenderism
In Greek Mythology

By Hebe Dotson

Part four

Caeneus

We meet Caeneus in the adventure tale of Jason and the Argonauts and their quest for the Golden Fleece. The meeting is casual, nothing more than a mention in an enumeration of the Argonauts, one of whom is "Caeneus the Lapith, who had once been a woman."

Oh. Weren't we all? Fortunately Ovid is prepared to give us the full story. The Greek besiegers of Troy were celebrating Achilles' victory over the Trojan hero Cygnus, who had taken blow after blow from the Greek's weapons without injury, succumbing only when the enraged Achilles seized him and strangled him. The Trojan's imperviousness reminded the warrior-king Nestor of a remarkable man named Caeneus, whom he had seen survive a thousand blows without injury. His invulnerability was more remarkable than Cygnus's, Nestor remarked, because Caeneus had been born a girl.

Achilles (who, it will be recalled, had spent some time disguised as a girl while dodging military service) was intrigued by this and wanted to know more about Caeneus and how and why he had changed his sex. Caenis, Nestor responded, had been the loveliest of all the maidens of Thessaly, with countless suitors.

She had refused to marry anyone, however, preferring her own company. Solitude has its dangers, she learned. As she wandered on a lonely beach one day, the sea god Neptune forced himself upon her, overwhelming her by the power of his embraces. After he had taken his pleasure, Neptune magnanimously informed his new love that he would now grant her anything she wished. He may have been expecting her to request a fine palace so she could receive him properly on his next visit, but Caenis had other ideas. "After the wrong I've just suffered," she said, "my only wish is that I may never be able to experience anything like it again. Let me not be a woman, and you will have given me all I want!"

As she finished her plea, her voice became noticeably deeper, for the god had already transformed her into a man. And he granted an additional boon, that the man Caeneus would never suffer any wound and would never be slain by the sword. Rejoicing, Caeneus embarked upon the life of a warrior and adventurer.

Iphis (Recapitulated and Concluded)

When Telethusa was pregnant with Iphis, her husband had advised her to pray for a son. If the child proved to be a daughter, it would have to be put to death, because the family couldn't afford the expense of raising a girl. Following the advice of the goddess Io, Telethusa announced that she had given birth to a son.

She raised her daughter as a boy, and her husband never suspected the deception. When Iphis reached the age of thirteen, her father arranged a marriage between his "son" and a beautiful young girl named Ianthe. The two had already met and fallen in love, to Ianthe's joy and Iphis's dismay, for Iphis felt herself caught up in an unnatural love. Now she was about to acquire a bride whom she could never properly enjoy. Telethusa used various tricks to postpone the marriage, but eventually the wedding day was almost upon her-only one day away.

Telethusa prayed again to Io, reminding her that she had followed her advice and raised Iphis as a son, and that this must have been good advice, for Iphis still lived. Help us again, she pleaded. As she left the temple, Iphis walked along beside her, with a longer stride than usual. Her fair complexion darkened, her features grew sharper, and her strength increased-for the girl Iphis had become a boy. And, according to Ovid, no one was disappointed on Iphis and Ianthe's wedding day.

Hermaphroditus

Hermes, messenger of the gods, and Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, found themselves in the throes of a mighty mutual passion.

It was purely physical and it didn't last, but it led to a fabulous one-night stand that resulted in a son. The boy was said to resemble both of his parents, and he was named for both of them: Hermaphroditus.

Graves has little more than this to say about the child, stating simply that he was "doubled-sexed," but Ovid offers a longer and far more poetic explanation of his condition.

As soon as young Hermaphroditus reached the age of fifteen, he left his home for a life of travel. He went everywhere, finding great enjoyment in new sights, until one day he came upon a remarkable, fascinating pool of clear water set in the middle of a broad expanse of green turf.

This pool was the home of a beautiful nymph named Salmacis.

Salmacis was not at home when Hermaphroditus arrived at the edge of her pool-she was engaged in one of her favorite activities, gathering flowers from a nearby field. As she returned to her pool with her arms laden with blossoms, she caught sight of Hermaphroditus and immediately fell in love with him. There was nothing the least bit shy about Salmacis. She walked right up to Hermaphroditus and offered herself to him-as his bride if he was not already committed; as his clandestine lover if he was. Poor Hermaphroditus was the epitome of shyness.

He blushed and stammered, and when she tried to embrace him, he threatened to run away and never return. This was more than smitten Salmacis could bear. She drew herself back, apologized, and pretended to depart, but in fact found herself an observation post in some nearby bushes. Hermaphroditus continued to explore the seductive pool. He dipped his toes into the clear waters, then his ankles. At last, believing himself to be alone, he stripped off his clothes and plunged into the pool. Salmacis had been waiting for this moment. Tossing her own garments aside and crying, "He is mine now!" she dove into the pool behind him and seized him in her arms.

Hermaphroditus & Salmacis

He struggled to free himself, but she wrapped her limbs around him and clung to him with all her strength, praying to the gods that he would never be separated from her, nor she from him. The gods granted her wish, and Salmacis and Hermaphroditus were merged into one person, one body that could not be called male or female but seemed to be at the same time both and neither. When Hermaphroditus emerged from the pool and realized what had happened to him, he raised his arms to the heavens and prayed to his parents in a voice no longer masculine. He asked them to ensure that any man who bathed thereafter in Salmacis' pool would become like him, part male and part female, and his wish was granted. In this way, the people now referred to as intersexed came into the world.

Hermaphroditus Considered

Graves offers a political explanation of the Hermaphroditus myth. He sees Hermaphroditus, whom he describes as "a youth with womanish breasts and long hair," as representing a sacred king who wears artificial breasts when he deputizes for the Queen. While conceding that the hermaphrodite, like the androgyne (a bearded woman), had real-life physical counterparts, he sees both as having roots as religious concepts in the ancient transition from a matriarchal to a patriarchal religion (see the earlier section, Transvestism: The Power of Disguise, for more on this subject).

The political hermaphrodite stood on the power-seeking patriarchal side of the struggle; the androgyne, a priestess wearing a false beard, was among those seeking to retain matriarchal power.

Ovid's version of the myth is more appealing than Graves' analysis. Ovid must have enjoyed embellishing a story already ancient in his own time. He gives us a Hermaphroditus who is physically a picture of handsome young manhood but is emotionally shy, introverted, and frightened. He adds Salmacis, outwardly a lovely young woman but mentally direct, extroverted, and goal-oriented. Combine this with his literal-minded gods who can think of only one way (given human nature) to give Salmacis exactly what she had requested, and intersexism is the logical result.

Consider the real Hermaphroditus-he certainly was as real in the ancient world as he is today. Pronounced a boy at birth, raised as a male, he finds himself growing breasts as he enters adolescence. Confused, frightened, he doesn't know what he is or how he came to be that way-and no one can explain his unusual condition to him or tell him how to cure it. Fearful of intimacy, he runs away from home to live in the wilds or in the anonymity offered by a city. Perhaps he goes to Rome; perhaps he even meets Ovid, who befriends him, draws him out, learns his story-and then spins for him the tale of Hermaphroditus, love-child of the gods. At least as much as any other myth, the legend of Hermaphroditus can be seen as an attempt at "early science," an effort to explain the great mystery of intersex. Only magic or the supernatural could have offered plausible explanations in Ovid's time, exactly two millennia ago.

Mortal Transformations

In this article, I have described how Greek and Roman TG mythology dealt with the mortal power of disguise and the divine power of transformation. In some cases, I have been able to add bits of anthropological context, primarily from Graves. Graves has one more relevant item-anthropology, rather than myth-that falls into the category of a mortal approach to transformation. Male devotees of Cybele, he tells us, tried to achieve ecstatic unity with their goddess by emasculating themselves and dressing as women.

Further Speculations

Greco-Roman mythology doesn't tell us much about transsexualism. Myths that involve transvestism can be seen as explanations of known human behavior. The Hermaphroditus myth offers a supernatural explanation of a real human physiological condition. Cybele's male devotees aside, transsexualism didn't exist except in the mind, so there were no mythical explanations-only entertainments. I am not by any means an expert on either mythology or anthropology. I have read my three principal sources carefully, but I don't want to give the impression that they are necessarily comprehensive in presenting Greco-Roman mythology (and they probably aren't, because each has something not contained in the others).

While I've noted all the TG-related stories I found, I can't be certain that I didn't miss any. What can we learn from the few transsexual tales that I've summarized above? We have a goddess, Athena, who sometimes takes the form of a man in her meetings with Odysseus (though she frequently appears as herself). We have a god, Dionysus, who makes a single appearance as a girl. (These are presented as full transformations rather than clothing-based disguises, but note that they are always temporary.) Then we have Teiresias, a man who is transformed into a woman and subsequently back into a man, and we have the females Caenis and Iphis changed to males.

In no case is there a permanent change from male to female. This may tell us something about ancient (and modern) prejudices with regard to the relative worth of males and females: no right-minded man would want to become a woman. Women, however, could reasonably want to be promoted to men, and Caenis and Iphis were awarded permanent transformations.

In classical Greece, myth and religion were interchangeable. If Graves is correct in theorizing an ancient struggle between matriarchal and patriarchal religions, the eventual patriarchal victory was certainly reflected in mythology. Perhaps that is why Zeus and Hera couldn't just transform themselves to settle their dispute about sexual pleasure. A newly-triumphant patriarchal religion couldn't allow its chief deity to assume female form. It has been said that winners write the histories. In preliterate societies, the winners composed the myths and the losers' beliefs/myths disappeared.

If there once were matriarchal myths of men aspiring to become women, they have vanished. That may be why there seem to be no myths about Cybele transforming her male devotees into women. Greece was the home of the first western civilization, and many aspects of our modern culture can be traced to that ancient time and place. If the Mother-goddess religion had won that long-ago struggle with the Olympians, modern men might be free to wear dresses or pants as they preferred, while a member of the dominant sex would be stigmatized if she were caught crossdressing in trousers.