Why classical myth and autism?

Why classical myth and autism?

The idea for this project started to take shape at a meeting in 2008 with a special needs teacher, who mentioned that, in her experience and those of her colleagues, autistic children often enjoy classical myth. I began to wonder why this might be the case, and whether – as a classicist who researches, and loves, classical myth – there was anything I could contribute. I started this blog to report on my progress which was often sporadic until the launch of the Warsaw-based European Research Council-funded project Our Mythical Childhood (2016-22) to trace the role of classics in children’s culture.

My key contribution to the project is an exploration of classics in autistic children’s culture, above all by producing myth-themed activities for autistic children. This blog shares my progress, often along Herculean paths, including to a book of lessons for autistic children focusing on the Choice of Hercules between two very different paths in life. The image above, illustrating the homepage of this blog, is one of the drawings by Steve K. Simons, the book's illustrator, of a chimneypiece panel in a neoclassical villa at Roehampton in South West London. The lessons centre on this panel.

Tuesday 20 February 2018

The Choice of Hercules: how it resonated in the eighteenth century and why it matters today

In my previous main posting (see the * at the foot of the current posting for an explanation of the one I've written since), I provided a glimpse of the artefact that will provide the basis of my first set of autism and classical myth activities. I promised in that posting to show the whole of the artefact – and to discuss what makes it so apposite. Here is the image:
And here is the discussion. This will take the form of background information about the history of artefact and how the scene it depicts would have resonated with those for those for whom it was originally intended to be viewed. Then, at the end, I shall lead into a brief discussion of how the very different viewers for whom I am preparing activities can, likewise, engage with it.
The artefact is a chimney-piece panel depicting the Choice of Hercules in a villa designed in around 1777-80 by James Wyatt for Sir Joshua Vanneck. The villa is now called Grove House and is part of the campus of the University of Roehampton, the institution where I work. While the house was designed by Wyatt, the chimneypiece is from the workshop of the Carters (Benjamin and Thomases I and II) one of whose standard tables was the Choice of Hercules – see here for some information about the Carters.  
This artefact has been part of my working life since, having worked at Roehampton for around a year, in 2005 or 2006, I discovered that the campus included a representation of Hercules, a topic on whom I had recently written – in a chapter in a book that came out in 2005, the very year when I joined Roehampton.[1] Moreover, I found that this Hercules was in the company a representation of Virtue (to give one of the possible names for the female figure to the viewer’s left – I shall explore some others below), who has two of the attributes another of my research interests, Athena, a helmet and a snake, both of which are depicted on the ground beside her. 
My quest to understand why this image was in a room at my workplace has transformed my understanding of postclassical reception and of the history of Roehampton. Several years ago, I spoke about the chimneypiece in an interview for Classics Confidential:



Now it is of key significance to the work I'm doing on autism and classical mythology - as anyone who has ever been in the room with me over the past year or so might recall. 

What I found out when I started researching the chimneypiece is that, as stated by Nikolaus Pevsner in his Buildings of England, ‘there is still nothing like Roehampton anywhere in London to get an impression of thearistocratic Georgian country villa’ (p. 687), the reason being that, at the time when the villa was overtaking the Great House in popularity, Roehampton became popular, aided by its location on the edge of Richmond Park, with new houses and grounds carefully designed to look like continuations of the Park, like classical temples coming out of its grounds. For example, the sale notice for the house, under its original name of Roehampton Grove, describes how ‘the simple elegance of the elevation of the buildings’ and other aspects of the situation ‘give completely the appearance of a Roman villa.’[2] 


The artefact was created in the eighteenth century at a time when the Choice of Hercules had attained popularity as a means of reflecting on the choices that one might make in life between two opposing paths.
Hercules has his body turned towards the woman on the viewer’s right. He is resting on aclub over which a lion’s head hangs, while his head is turned towards the woman on our left. If you scroll back up to the photo of the chimneypiece, note that the things associated with the woman are attainable, plentiful and abundant – firstly the overflowing fruit in the bowl, and secondly, the woman herself. The things connected with theother woman, meanwhile, are beyond reach, as is indicated by one of her hands, which points up a steep zigzagging path. In her other hand, she is holding a sword – her own perhaps, or her gift toHercules. If the latter, it could be to aid him tomake his way along her path. Or it could be intended to be regarded as his reward should be make the summit. In addition to the sword, as I've mentioned, there is a helmet on the ground beside the woman – again, either her own, or her gift should Hercules take her path.
There is a fit here with the two women who, in the story attributed to Prodikos described in Xenophon’s Memorabilia (2.1.21-34) – and discussed in an earlier posting on this blog - encountered the hero as follows: ‘when Herakles was setting out from childhood into his prime, a time when the young, now becoming their own masters, show whether they will take the part of virtue (arete) or the path of vice (kakia), he went out to a quiet place and sat not knowing which of the roads to take. There appeared two tall women approaching him’. In Xenophon’s account, Arete was ‘pretty to look at and of free-born nature, her body adorned with purity, her eyes with modesty, her figure with reserve, and with white clothes’. Vice, meanwhile, was ‘grown into plumpness and softness, her face made up so that it looked whiter and rosier in appearance than it actually was’ (I'm quoting, as previously, from Emma Stafford's translation).
I am struck that there are correspondences between the account of the personified Arete and Kakia and the women on the panel, although these are shaped by specifically eighteenth-century morality, virtues and values. The Choice as depicted on the panel constitutes an eighteenth-century English version of the use of Hercules as an ‘Everyman’ figure, or indeed ‘Everyperson’ figure (see further down this posting for an explanation of why I've added '...person'). In this capacity, Hercules is deliberating between on the one hand the virtues of hard work, especially of a Protestant kind, and also capitalism and industriousness, as against the temptations of pleasure and idleness.[3]
The Choice also exemplifies the duality especially beloved of the eighteenth century – that of Mind/Body. Hercules turns his face towards Mind, his body towards Body.  Hercules would appear to be contemplating dualities that can be seen as, variously, Cartesian, Protestant, Industrious and Capitalist in an eighteenth-century English spin on the notion of Hercules as a figure for any age.
I would say that the viewer of the chimneypiece is being invited to make his or her Herculean choice, I can write 'her' because there is evidence (to follow!) for female receivers of eighteenth-century neoclassicism. Hercules's choice was often regarded presented as one relevant to young men, but  as discussed earlier in this blog it is possible to go beyond seeing a relevance that is so gender-specific. Hercules could speak to all - at least to all 'cultured' people.
What is more – and this is something that I am still deciding whether or not to mention in the activities I am devising - the Choice is not confined to the panel but continues to the right and left culminating at one end in the token of one of the paths: a helmet and at that a lion-faced one.  The lion’s head on the panel to the left of the panel is turned towards Pleasure – here it has put on the helmet of Virtue. However, the viewer can also continue to the right – to the grapes and tendrils of Pleasure. Therefore, the viewer of the chimney-piece is being invited to reflect on Hercules’ choice, and even to make their own Herculean choice between opposing ways of life. Here's a photo showing the panel in the context of the wider chimneypiece and fireplace. 
 
There is more - the choice is one that was potentially made by adults, but above all, it was a myth told in relation to children. Specifically, it was told to teach young men how to make the correct choice between two opposing forms of behaviour. These could be phrased as Virtue on the one hand, and Pleasure on the other, though often the choice is depicted as one between hard work and indolence. 
For example, in the Tatler for 22 Nov 1709, ‘Isaac Bickerstaff,’ the pen name of Richard Steele, appropriates the story to reflect upon how London is plagued by the idleness of young men:

For which reason, I shall here set down that noble Allegory which was written by an old Author called Prodicus, but recommended and embellished by Socrates.  It is the Description of Virtue and Pleasure, making their Court to Hercules under the Appearance of two beautiful Women.
Bickerstaff introduces it as ‘the Description of Virtue and Pleasure, making their Court to Hercules under the Appearance of two beautiful Women.’ The right-hand woman is understood as Pleasure rather than Vice, and the choice that Hercules, standing for young London men, is facing is between hard work and pleasure. This reworking is typical of how the choice is conceived in relation to eighteenth-century values, bearing comparison, for instance, to its use in school texts and poems on the choice theme.
The author of the Tatler piece is, therefore, relating Hercules' choice to the choice that he would like the young men of his day to make. This illustrates just how relevant it was in the eighteenth century - when so powerful was the myth, and so able to speak to contemporary values, that in some ways it stopped being solely an ancient myth and was updated to become a British national myth exemplifying the moral thinking of the time. to that of the young men of his times. Viewers are not only meant to 'see' Hercules; they are also meant to see something relevant to their day, even themselves, being played out. 

I have already mentioned, in a posting for Liz Hale's Antipodean Odyssey blog how relevant the blog is to other, contemporary, children - in addition to those of the eighteenth century. And now I am, finally, on the cusp of showing how this eighteenth-century version of an ancient myth has a future too - where contemporary users engage with what Hercules is up to and what the two women are up to and reflect on such issues as how to make choices, and how any choice in light potentially impacts on the future. Questions I shall pose might include: Is it an easy choice? What does Hercules choose? What would you choose? What would be the consequences of each choice? I shall also be seeking to do a lot more as well, including to encourage reflection by the children of their place in the world and how they interact with others. 
The chimneypiece panel represents a mythological episode that has a notable history in relation to attempts to socialise young people. It is this aspect of the myth that I am seeking, myself, to harvest - I meant to write ‘harness’ there, but I prefer harvest so I’m keeping the word in! My plan right now is to start preparing a posting concerning the first of the activities linked with the panel today and to get it up soon. 
 


[1] "Herakles and his ‘Girl’: Athena, Heroism and Beyond," in L. Rawlings and H. Bowden, ed., Herakles and Hercules: Exploring a Graeco-Roman Divinity. Swansea: Classical Press of Wales (2005): 37-50.
[2] Classified ads., Gazetteer and New Daily Advertiser Monday, May 21, 1792.
[3] See e.g. Charlesworth, M. 2003. ‘Movement, intersubjectivity, and mercantile morality at Stourhead’ in M. Conan (ed.), Landscape Design and the Experience of Motion, Washington, D.C.


*My plan had been to move straight from this posting to the current one. Then, I had the pleasant experience of discovering several Hercules-rich works of literature for children (literature very broadly defined as you’ll see if you take a look!) that might well be relevant to the activities I am planning. This will be a work-in-progress document that I’ll add to as and when I discover anything new. 

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