My First Photographs

Tantalize — to tease or torment by presenting something desirable to the view and frustrating expectation by keeping it out of reach.

Tantalus was the son of Zeus (my old cats name) and a woman named Pluto. He was the king of Sipylus, a kingdom that bordered Lydia and Phrygia. With his wife Dione, a daughter of Atlas, Tantalus had three children: one daughter, Niobe, and two sons, Pelops and Broteas. He was initially famed for his sufficient amount of wealth, from which the Greek expression “the talents of Tantalus” was derived. However, what Tantalus is truly remembered for is one of the most Hannibal Lecter–esque stories in Greek mythology.

As a favored son of Zeus, Tantalus was among the few mortals invited to dine at the fancy and elite, banquet of the gods on Mount Olympus. Unfortunately, he was the worst guest ever. His first act of betrayal was revealing divine secrets and gossip he overheard to other gods and mortals. Second, he stole ambrosia and nectar, the gods 'food and drink' and shared them with mortals in the hope of granting them immortality. Finally, in what can only be described as an absolutely unhinged move meant to impress the gods and test their whole “we know everything” claim, Tantalus murdered, dismembered, and served his own son, Pelops, as stew.

The gods immediately recognized the atrocity they were presented with and refused to eat the meal—alllll except for Demeter, who, distracted by the kidnapping of her daughter Persephone, unknowingly took a bite out of Pelops’ shoulder.

Zeus was, unsurprisingly, outraged and sentenced Tantalus to the ole' classic Greek-god punishment: an eternity of torture. For the rest of time, Tantalus was forced to stand in a pool of water he could never drink and beneath a tree heavy with fruit he could never reach. Whenever he bent down to quench his thirst, the water receded. Whenever he reached for the fruit, the wind blew it just beyond his grasp.

Odysseus describes this torment in Homer’s Odyssey:

“I also saw the awful agonies that Tantalus has to bear.
The old man was standing in a pool of water which nearly reached his chin,
and his thirst drove him to unceasing efforts; but he could never reach the water to drink it.
For whenever he stooped in his eagerness to drink, it disappeared.
The pool was swallowed up, and all there was at his feet was the dark earth,
which some mysterious power had drained dry.
Trees spread their foliage high over the pool and dangled fruits above his head—
pear-trees and pomegranates, apple-trees with their glossy burden,
sweet figs and luxuriant olives.
But whenever the old man made to grasp them in his hands,
the wind would toss them up towards the shadowy clouds.”
(Odyssey 11.582–593)