A Greek Myth
In a town called Lydia in northern Greece lived a young maiden by the name of Arachne. Arachne could weave exquisite patterns with such skill and beauty that even nymphs stopped by to watch her at work.
“Look at that lovely weave,” remarked the girls of her town who gathered around her every day, mesmerised by her embroidery. “It is as if Goddess Athena herself has blessed her with such talent!” Now Athena, the war goddess, was also the patron goddess of crafts and weaving.
“Humph…” scoffed Arachne disdainfully for she was as vain as she was talented. “Athena! I bet she couldn’t spin as skilfully as I! She didn’t teach me… why, if we were to hold a contest, she and I, she would most certainly lose!” The girls were silent and became fearful for they knew that one should never insult the gods. But Arachne did not think so.
In the heavens, the beautiful goddess heard the ranting of the maiden. Her brow darkened with anger. Such vanity, thought she. But she decided to give the foolish girl a chance and test her out. Disguised as an old woman, she came down to where Arachne sat with her embroidery. “Do not offend the gods, my child. One may have talent but one should always have humility too. Only then will one's work be appreciated,” she told the girl.
“How dare you, old hag? Did I ask you for your opinion, DID I? As I said earlier, and I say it again for all those who care to listen, let Athena come down here and we’ll see who can weave a better tapestry,” retorted Arachne, little knowing she was tempting fate.
As if on cue, darkness suddenly fell and the goddess Athena appeared in a blinding flash of light, resplendent in her golden curls and a satin robe.
Even the wood nymphs who had come to watch swooned in surprise. “So be it! You shall have the contest you so desire!” said Athena.
Both Athena and Arachne sat down to weave at looms, Archane at hers and the goddess before another which magically appeared from nowhere. The nymphs, who had sufficiently recovered by now, forgot their fear and gathered to watch. The beautiful goddess began to weave deftly, and soon life-like scenes sprang from the tapestry. It was the scene of her contest with Poseidon over the city of Athens. “How lovely!” whispered the nymphs, “Arachne cannot match that.’’
But Arachne was weaving determinedly and furiously, and soon her design emerged, shocking those who looked upon it. She was recreating scenes that mocked Zeus and all the other gods.
When their tapestries were complete, Athena looked at Arachne’s work. She noted the way the girl had used only scenes that showed the gods in poor light. She became angry, very angry. “You have shown remarkable skill, I must admit. But can something that is so insulting to others be considered beautiful?” Grabbing the tapestry from Arachne, she tore into pieces and broke the loom.
“And you don’t even feel guilty, do you?” she asked her voice lowering to a whisper as Arachne continued to look smug. Leaning over, the goddess touched her lightly on her forehead. When she did, a change came over Arachne. She was suddenly filled with remorse and felt a deep sense of shame for what she did. She was mortal after all, she realised and her heart, her human heart, could take it no more, the guilt and the shame of it.
So filled with remorse was she that she hanged herself. Athena was not without kindness. She felt that the punishment the girl chose for herself was far too cruel. So she took some juice of the aconite flower and sprinkled it on Arachne. Instantly she came back to life but as a spider!
And so she continued to hang by a thread and weave and weave all her life.
So it is all her descendants you see, hanging by their threads and weaving beautiful webs forever and ever.