34. Hesiod, Theogony l.116.
35. Liddell et al., Greek-English Lexicon.
36. Apollodorus, Library 1.1.1.
37. Apollodorus, Library 1.1.2.
38. Apollodorus, Library 1.1.3.
39. Apollodorus, Library 1.1.4.
40. Apollodorus, Library 1.1.5.
41. Apollodorus, Library 1.2.1.
42. Apollodorus, Library 1.3.6.
43. Aeschylus, Prometheus Bound, ll. 514–17.
44. Gen 1.
45. Gen 1:26.
2
Parables against Riddles
In many ways, the ancient Greeks saw life as a riddle to be solved. In contrast, biblical man saw life as a parable to be lived. The first view pushes towards an endless search for meaning; the second towards a purposeful life.
The Ancient Greeks Love Riddles
Riddles are largely unintelligible and demand a search for meaning. They are admired in ancient Greek thought specifically because they are less intelligible than the simple presentation of facts and transmit no meaning. In his probing discussion of the non-informative aspect of Apollo’s speech, the classicist Bruce Heiden (2005) raises the question of whether Apollo’s noncommunicative oracles served another function. He cites Sophocles’ fragment 771 in this regard.
And I thoroughly understand that the god is this way:
To the wise, always a poser of riddles in divine speech,
but to the foolish a teacher of lessons, trivial and concise.
Heiden goes on to argue that “the different addressees for whom Apollo’s speeches are either lessons or riddles do not exercise different linguistic competencies, but different degrees of wisdom, and the acquisition of the positive meaning of the teaching surprisingly accords with stupidity, while the riddle, whose characteristic is denial of meaning, accords with positive wisdom.”46
The Hebrew Bible Loves Parables
Consider in contrast Scripture’s description of Abraham at the end of his life as being “satisfied with days.” Parables, while metaphorical, give clear life lessons, perhaps better accepted than naked truth. They can be seen as providing a guide for purposeful living.
Truth, naked and cold, had been turned away from every door in the village. Her nakedness frightened the people. When Parable found her, she was huddled in a corner, shivering and hungry. Taking pity on her, Parable gathered her up and took her home. There, she dressed Truth in story, warmed her and sent her out again. Clothed in story, Truth knocked again at the doors and was readily welcomed into the villagers’ houses. They invited her to eat at their tables and warm herself by their fires.
Ever since that time, Truth and Parable have gone hand in hand and they are made welcome wherever they go. “And do you see,” concluded the Preacher of Dubno, “I do not change the truth, nor try to hide it within my stories. I merely dress it up in beautiful clothing so that people will welcome it into their hearts”47
In this context, let us compare two very well-known fables: the story of Rumpelstiltskin versus that of the emperor with no clothes.
Rumpelstiltskin
Consider the famous riddle of Rumpelstiltskin, which is not Greek at all but illustrates a fruitless search for meaning. We follow the Brothers Grimm version.48
A poor miller had a beautiful daughter. Once he had occasion to speak to the king and, to give himself an air of importance, boasted that his daughter could spin straw into gold. The king ordered the miller to bring the girl to the palace. If she succeeded, he would make her his queen; if not, she would be put to death. The next day the girl came and was placed in a room full of straw and ordered to spin the straw into gold. The poor girl, of course, had no idea what to do. Suddenly the door opened, and a little man stepped into the room. Learning of the girl’s dilemma, the little man asked, “What will you give me if I spin this straw into gold?” The girl volunteered her necklace, and the little man spun all the straw into gold. The king was thrilled but also greedy. On the next day, he again placed the girl in a room full of straw with same demand. Once again the little man appeared and offered to spin the straw into gold in exchange, this time for the girl’s ring. The greedy king repeated his demand on the third day. Again, the little man came, but this time the girl had no more baubles to give him. “Well then,” said the little man, “will you promise to give me your first-born child if you become queen?” Desperately frightened, the girl agreed. When the king returned the next day, the room was once more filled with gold, and he married the miller’s daughter.
A year later, a beautiful child was born. The queen had quite forgotten the little man, but he came and demanded the child as promised. Terrified, the queen offered him all sorts of wealth but could not dissuade him from demanding the child. She wept so bitterly that the little man finally felt sorry for her. He agreed to give her three days. If she could discover his name, she could keep the child.
For two days, the queen guessed a long list of names but could not discover the true name. On the third day, one of her agents came in and reported that he had passed a little house far away in a forest on a mountain, where he saw a little man dancing around a fire and singing a song that ended with the words, “And little knows the royal dame that Rumpelstiltskin is my name.”
When the little man returned on the third day and heard the queen’s correct answer, he grew so enraged that he stamped his foot into the ground up to his waist, and then seizing his left leg tore himself apart.
The central riddle in the story is the little man’s name, but the story contains other characteristic features as well—the magical entry of the little man and his inhuman appearance, the remarkable greed and cruelty of the king, the importance of gold, and the lack of decency. There is little to learn from the story except that the world is a frightening and irrationally insecure place. The very search for the meaning of the riddle is destructive. A riddle such as this leaves the listener feeling powerless; there is nothing one can do to escape a terrible situation.
The Emperor’s New Clothes
Consider in contrast the famous parable of “The Emperor’s New Clothes” by Hans Christian Anderson.49
Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of new clothes that he spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared nothing about reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a ride in his carriage, except to show off his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day, and instead of saying, as one might, about any other ruler, “The King’s in council,” here they always said, “The Emperor’s in his dressing room.”
In the great city where he lived, life was always joyous. Every day many strangers came to town, and among them one day came two swindlers. They let it be known they were weavers, and they said they could weave the most