Narcissus Must Die. Long Live Narcissus

By Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg — Self-scanned, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=50060345

By Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg — Self-scanned, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=50060345

Narcissus must die.

Long Live Narcissus.

Narcissus was a hunter, but his distinction was that he was the most beautiful boy in the world.

He was the son of the river God Cephissus — who was the son of Oceanus and Tethys — and the water nymph, the naiad Liriope — who was likely the daughter of a river god.

Thus Narcissus was born from the essence of water, the grandson of Titans.

Although Narcissus was mortal, he was touched with the divine and blessed with immaculate beauty by the goddess Aphrodite herself.

Dazzled from the power of such exquisite comeliness and allure that belonged to Narcissus, people lost their good sense and large pieces of their dignity whenever he came near.

They would gasp in wonder at the perfect symmetry of his features, the strength and elegance of his form, and the grace of his movement.

They would whisper that he must be part God and would elevate to Olympus when he left the world.

Narcissus found the excessive admiration tedious after a time, and found his admirers irritating and beneath him.

There was nobody who could inspire Narcissus to love; he was so disdainful of everybody around him.

He was notorious for spurning the would-be male lovers who tried to seduce him, those men driven by lust and desire when confronted with the physical perfection of his form.

But there was one, Amenias, who believed he had what it took to succeed where others had failed.

He loved Narcissus for his beauty.

But Amenias also loved himself enough to recognize his value.

Although not as beautiful as Narcissus, he was very handsome. Amenias was also wealthy, educated, strong, and advanced in the erotic arts.

He knew that as a whole, he was more than equal to recommend himself to Narcissus.

When Amenias came to woo Narcissus, his would-be beloved was exceptionally cruel in his rebuff.

Narcissus handed Amenias a sword and suggested he make good use of it.

Humiliated, Amenias used the sword to slay himself on Narcissus’ doorstep, praying to the gods to avenge him for the dishonor.

Aphrodite heard his plea, and was enraged.

This was the most appalling affront to everything she held dear — love, passion, desire, lust, beauty.

She regretted blessing Narcissus with the power of immaculate beauty because he had done nothing but abuse and debase his gift.

On the other hand, the Goddess of Love and Beauty had to consider the possibility that it wasn’t in the nature of Narcissus to love other men, as men loved him.

Perhaps what he needed was feminine love, from one who might remind him of his mother. Aphrodite knew just the girl, the wood nymph Echo.

Echo fell madly in love with Narcissus the first time she saw him hunting in the woods.

She was a beautiful, spritely, and mischievous being. She followed Narcissus every time he came in the woods, which was often.

Echo was very adept at hiding in the rushes and amongst the trees, as she trailed behind him.

Over time, Narcissus became aware that somebody always followed him through the forest, and one day, he determined to find out who it was.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“Who’s there?” Echo repeated.

“Come now,” Narcissus cajoled. “Show yourself to me.”

“…Show yourself to me,” Echo called back.

Frustrated, Narcissus thought another minute, and then decided he needed to bait this being who trailed him every day.

“Let us come together here!” Narcissus called out, and spread his arms wide as if to receive.

Overjoyed, Echo came running out of the trees, ready to jump into the arms of her beloved.

“Let us come together here!” she repeated.

Instead of catching her in his arms, Narcissus laughed at Echo and turned away.

Heartbroken and mortified, Echo ran sobbing through the woods, her grief making her disappear until there was nothing left of her but a disembodied voice doomed to repeat what was said on the open air until the end of time.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Echo_and_Narcissus_by_Rupert_Bunny.jpg

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Echo_and_Narcissus_by_Rupert_Bunny.jpg

Watching from Olympus, Aphrodite was beyond livid.

Narcissus had gone too far and must be punished. After meditating on the best punishment for Narcissus, she smiled with grim satisfaction.

“I condemn Narcissus to fall passionately in love,” Aphrodite declared. “And his desire and longing will be his undoing.”

Then Aphrodite transformed into Nemesis, the vengeful aspect of herself.

Nemesis lured Narcissus close to a spring the next time he went hunting in the woods.

As soon as Narcissus looked in the water, he fell to his knees. He had never seen such a beautiful creature in all of his life, and he was suddenly consumed with the most ravenous lust and desire.

But when he tried to touch the beautiful face, the water rippled and his reflection was distorted. Narcissus suddenly knew he was looking at himself.

He lamented and refused to leave the spring.

Suddenly, Narcissus understood the yearning and the senselessness of those who had admired him all his life, for he was now overcome with the same emotion.

The problem was that it was impossible to make love to himself. The longing that would never be sated drove him to madness.

Suddenly, he decided there had to be a way to fuck himself and that always started with a kiss.

He was Narcissus, the son of Cephissus and Liriope. He was of the essence of water.

Thus leaning down to give himself a kiss, Narcissus fell into the spring and drowned.

Unfortunately, one thing Aphrodite may not have considered was the effect Narcissus would have on humanity once he wasn’t confined to a physical form.

The spirit of Narcissus spread far and wide.

Nowadays, anybody could be infected with an excessive love of oneself, a fixation on one’s own glory, and a conceit that one believes themselves above others.

We have all been rendered a little more ridiculous as a result of the disease of the psyche. And you don’t even have to be good-looking to be afflicted.