Oedipus Wrecked

CW: References to familial trauma and incest

The final statement on the Queen of Thebes, Jocasta’s reunion with her son, Oedipus, reads as follows:

When I first saw my son Eddie (you know, Oedipus) again after so many years, there was no way... No way I could have known him from before. So much time had passed. But I did know him.

Eddie is my nickname for him. Now that he’s an adult, Oedipus fits. But I could never see myself calling a three-year-old – Oedipus. So, Eddie it is.

I’d expected the worst. I’d thought he was dead for nigh twenty years. There he stood, smiling at me. But he didn’t know me.

I mean, the last time I saw him, he was a baby! Well, three… But now, he was all grown up. And what a fine specimen of humanity he had become.

You know… deep inside, a mother knows. A recognition beyond understanding. Thinking him long dead, I expected never to see him again. But who else could sport such a smile?

I’d mourned him for so many years. And I struggled to accept his return, knowing what that would mean.

I wasn’t some fool. I knew the prophesy. Yada, yada… son kills his dad and marries his mom. Everyone knew it. Sick. But it wasn’t what everyone thought. Not by a long shot.

I did what I could to change our fates.

When his father, Rex… I always called him Rex. Being a king and all… Of course, his name was Laius, King of Thebes. But he always feared someone doubted him. He thought people called him a liar. Laius became prickly and acted out of fear instead of through sober consideration.

I blame his mother for that unfortunate name. Always the mother…

Where was I? Oh, right…When Rex didn’t come home… and had sent no word, what was I to think? Rex was no spring chicken… but he was healthy. And he had wandering eyes… I’d learned to endure his ‘kingly’ prerogatives.

Was he seeking someone to mother him?

Long years since, I’d put aside my grief for Oedipus, my Eddie. Rex thought he stopped the curse in its tracks, the prophesy that our darling son would kill him and…

Well, life goes on, doesn’t it? I thought we were free. Until Rex didn’t return… I’d have preferred his running off with one of his tarts. Word came that he’d been killed, murdered. It all came back. The terror of what next?

Was the prophesy happening after all? The chill of apprehension had always hovered out of sight. Suddenly it stared back, unflinching. Everywhere. It wouldn’t leave.

Crisis followed crisis. Close on the heels of Rex’s death, the Sphinx began plaguing our city. When Eddie destroyed the damned Sphinx, things accelerated.

I never expected things to end as they did. Yet, I knew. Inside, I knew. I had to act.

Rex was gone, barely laid to rest. And now the savior of Thebes, the vanquisher of the Sphinx, my son, stepped up to wear the king’s crown. And to be my new husband.

I tried to be stoic. We had a saying, ‘What would Socrates do?’ It was no help.

What should I have expected? It’s not like this happens every day. I’m human. A woman. I have feelings. When he walked into that courtyard, it was fate, meant to be… our foretold destiny. The years yearning for my son converged with the dread of what his return would bring…

He arrived with such fanfare. The moment I saw him… Well, he was Rex’s double… I wanted to think I had a type. But I knew the truth.

He told me his story. A typical tale of a young prince, the son of Polybus, the Corinthian king. I knew more than he did…

I knew what he would say before words crossed his lips. Having traveled to the damnable Delphi, he heard the prophesy. But lacking certain facts, and the truth, he abandoned his home in Corinth to escape his dreaded fate. He ran headlong into it.

We each are heroes in our earthly life. But Eddie’s story is a uniquely unsatisfying hero’s journey.

When Eddie was born, he received the call of life. But everything changed when we heard the oracle’s terrifying prophesy. More scapegoat than hero, Eddie was destined to kill Rex, and marry me.

Rex attempted to change destiny, but he didn’t kill Eddie. He abandoned the toddler in the wilderness, a gift to wolves. But a shepherd discovered the boy and delivered him to a new home with the king of Corinth.

Years later, I’m sure you know, in a chance encounter, Eddie killed Rex. Maybe one day, someone will invent a stop sign for intersections. One yields, and one goes. It might work.

It’s a fallacy to think Eddie’s motives in killing Rex, and marrying me, sprang from his jealousy. Regardless, the prophesy had been set in motion.

By vanquishing the Sphinx, Eddie propelled himself to being crowned Thebes’ new king. His marriage to me, his true mother, came as part of the package.

Little noted, I, Jocasta, suffered several injuries. An innocent victim of the prophecy, I suffered the loss of my beloved child, Eddie. And, years later, my husband, at Eddie’s hand.

I knew the prophesy. I’d been warned. Despite Rex’s vain attempts at warding off the inevitable, he died from father/son violence. Despite pure motives, Eddie passively fulfilled his accursed destiny.

The circumstances of my reunion with Eddie were bizarre.

Do you think I failed to foresee what would come next? Especially when my son and future husband, reentered my life? When Eddie stepped into my court, I knew him at once. What mother doesn’t know her son? His lopsided smile and swagger told me everything.

But I refused to be a passive pawn of the fates. Looking to the signs, I prepared. I controlled what I could. I sidestepped destiny and became the hero of my own story.

Can one escape their fate? One can only hope to twist it to one’s own purposes.

Delphi! I wish that pestilent promoter of pulp prophecy would sink into a cesspit.

Talk about misunderstandings!

Eddie didn’t know what he’d done. He saw the man he killed as an arrogant fool. Having vanquished the Sphinx, he thought himself a hero. I happened to be a queen from a neighboring kingdom. Not his queen mother. Eddie was no Trojan horse. He had no diabolical plan to destroy our beautiful kingdom.

Nonetheless, it spun out of control. Eddie and I were the innocents. What mother doesn’t love her son? No stopping those sniggering fools and organ grinders. Let them perpetuate their noxious tales.

There was plenty of blame to go around. But poor Eddie paid the price.

The peripheral characters need to answer for their actions.

That Delphic coin flipper... Give me a break. ‘I’m an oracle! Listen to me!’ Did Rex never hear of a second opinion? Even Pythagoras couldn’t explain this triangle.

And that stupid shepherd. Should have minded his wool gathering. Don’t butt in where you’re not wanted. What clown entrusted him with a flock?

Abandoning children in the forest was a time-tested tradition here. No harm. No foul. What could go wrong? Oh, a genius shepherd stuck his nose into it. He knew better.

A shepherd’s, training takes about two minutes, including breaks. ‘Listen up. Watch the sheep. Don’t lose the sheep. Don’t cry wolf. Any questions?’

Not exactly brain surgery, in my humble opinion. Almost everything exceeds a shepherd’s pay grade. Including thinking. I wouldn’t have trusted him with my sheepskin coat.

This guy not only saved little Eddie, he gave him to the king and queen of Corinth to raise as their own. ‘Oh, thanks. Again, where did you find him?’

What about a toddler abandoned in the forest escaped his understanding? Did he think it was accidental?

The outcome is on Rex, of course. Take note. If you’re trying to forestall a tragic prophesy, nip it in the bud. Don’t let the fates seduce you into a false sense of control. Don’t be led by the nose into a trap.

And don’t get me started on that Sphinx.

Tell me... When was the world made better with a riddle? ‘Answer my riddle or I’ll eat you…?’ Really? You must be joking… Except it wasn’t funny. You need new material.

The only real laugh was her doing a face plant off the cliff. Love the slapstick.

Stick with puns, you adulterated mongrel.

What has four legs, two legs, then three? That’s a riddle? Sounds like new math. And no discernable punch line. When a comic ‘kills’ he makes you laugh. He doesn’t eat the audience. Gives new meaning to the phrase, ‘tough crowd…’

Get real. Collect a toll. Treat yourself a nice dinner.

So, when Eddie solved the riddle… The Sphinx lost it. Sore loser much? Not like it was E = MC squared. By Zeus, it was a riddle! Talk about entitled. My Eddie is one smart kid.

I have to admit that Rex may have brought it on himself. Did he think he owned the road? Well, technically he did, being king. But a little courtesy goes a long way in these days of bad manners and road rage.

You never know who you’re going to run off the road, right? No point in stacking fate’s deck.

When possible, a mother’s task is to guide her son to claim positive outcomes in a timely fashion. But, so much rides on the possibilities. Timeliness is a most difficult skill to teach. It demands patience.

I resolved to grant the fates their sway, but to undermine their power through subterfuge. Unlike those dazzled by illusions of control, I determined to set my own course and affect things as I could. I needed time to set my plan in motion.

A woman can be most effective working in isolation. Especially when not driven by clueless ambition. Prying eyes and wagging tongues distract.

Yes, Eddie and I wedded, but our marriage was never consummated.

Though flimsy, veils are a strong defense against the ignorant. On our wedding night, a willing concubine took my place in the marriage bed.

Not an original ploy, I admit, but I drew on another respected tradition.

Unfortunately, things moved too quickly. Facts could not withstand the flood of innuendo. Eddie faltered.

I could only tell Eddie the truth after the rumors had gained momentum. By then it was too late. My attempts to right things failed. Overwhelmed by the gossips’ lies, Eddie destroyed himself in shame.

Myths are thought to be mere ‘stories.’ But mere stories wouldn’t survive millennia without roots sunk deeply into truth.

I refused to be the unwitting pawn of indifferent fates. I tried and failed to save my son.

The popular myth claims I hanged myself. That proved over time, the most efficient telling of the tale. After all, a minor player cannot prevail by outwitting the fates when the hero’s efforts reap dust.

The truth about my life after all the drama had passed, is far less lurid. I retired to a southern Greek isle to spend my latter days in peace and comfort.

The fates had their way. But I didn’t give in without a fight.