The Debate of the Goddess
More than 2000 years ago near Greece, a woman and her slave girl Praxinoa were travelling from Trinacria to Delphi. They got caught in a storm and all of the ship crew had been thrown overboard by the violent sea leaving the two of them to the mercy of their Gods. At last they got washed upshore on a tranquil island. The woman was sure she was dead, but she recalled a curious debate. —-
“Three women were dancing gracefuly together on the edge of the sea. One was Helen, her luxuriant red hair singed by the burning towers of Troy. The second was Demeter, with her crowns of fruits and flowers, and the third Athena, with her battle helmet. They were all voluptuously naked and fair. They seemed to welcome me.
‘Is it best to live for love?’ Helen asked ‘We have been discussing this. Can you resolve it?’
‘Motherhood is what I live for.’ said Demeter, ‘and so must all women.’
‘Intellect is best,’ Athena said. ‘Love and motherhood will drag you down into the mire like animals. Only virginity and a warriort’s pride can save a woman from her fate.’
‘But without love we are only half alive!’ Helen exclaimed as if she were Aphrodite.
Praxinoa awoke and she couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘We are among immortals!’ she cried to me.
‘Join in our debate,’ said the beautiful Helen.
‘Shall we live for love or motherhood or intellect?’ the daughter of Zeus and Leda sang. Her voice was beautiful as her face.
‘Motherhood and all its joys and woes,’ Demeter signhed. ‘Without them there would be no people on the face of earth.’
‘The brain above the heart.’ Athena said, ‘or we are all beasts of the field.’
‘Love’ said Helen, ‘for love inspires all things to grow —- even children and the glory of war.’
‘Look where love took you,’ I said.’ and the world!’
‘I would do it again!’ said Helen. ‘I regret nothing!’
Praxinoa was laughing, laughing and laughing. I thought she had gone mad. She was going to offend the immortals.
‘Look at you all,’ Praxinoa finally said. ‘arguing like free women — not even dreaming that liberty is at the root of your choices. What if you were slaves?’
The dancing stopped and the three lovely ones looked quizzical and perplexed.
‘Liberty is at the root of all we want,’ said my slave girl Praxinoa, ‘for only free women can participate in this debate. Choice is the luxury of the free.’ “