In preparation for teaching my 4th and 5th graders about conflict in literature, I did some research that uncovered something novel. I had always thought that someone’s nemesis was the antagonist of the story, the enemy, the ultra-bad guy, the anti-hero. This isn’t exactly the case. Before I share what I learned, I have a story for you.
There once was a baseball player born with a natural affinity for the game. It was more than that. He had a gift. His parents knew he would be great, and they gave him everything he would need to fulfill his destiny.
Everyone who saw this boy play commented on his skills. When he threw the ball it seemed to know where it was supposed to go. His glove was a magnet. No toss escaped it. The bat in his hands may as well be Thor’s hammer, Mjolner. It punished pitchers year in and year out.
A funny thing happened early in the boy’s career. He was still in school when a coach who understood the greatness before him told the ballplayer’s parents, this one will go far as long as he never assumes his talents, but continues to practice and better himself. This coach had glimpsed raw talent before, and knew that without tuning, the song of the marvelous instrument turns into a grating noise.
The young baseball player had no problem making it to the big leagues. The people who played ball with him were graced to know his genius for the game. Even his opponents felt privileged to have been able to rival him.
Numerous articles were written about the rising star. Every journalist craved an interview with the boy, but he eluded them all. One journalist in particular resolved to take photographs of the athlete in action. If she wasn’t granted the privilege of speaking with the ball player, she would communicate his greatness to the world through picture.
The journalist, not new to baseball, had never seen the human body move the way this star player moved. Her photographs captured the power of the throw like none other. Looking at the glove that never missed a toss portrayed in portrait amazed every viewer.
Even though no one secured an audience with the baseball player, this photographer wished to put words to her photos and sought an interview. Rejection after rejection caused the journalist to turn to other means of query. She would write letters to the baseball player. She tried to get his manager to intervene. The journalist befriended other players in hopes that they would put in a good word for her. Eventually, the journalist even bought presents to give to the baseball player. Perhaps she could bribe him to give her some sound bites, at least.
Other journalists saw this photographer pining for the privilege to interview the star as pathetic at first. They feared the photographer would fall apart, focusing so much attention on one person. They warned her. It was too late. And then, she was gone.
The owner of the magazine that the photographer worked for heard the speeches of brother and sister journalists at the photographer’s funeral and decided to do something about this tragedy. Why wouldn’t the baseball player just talk to his employee?
The magazine owner compiled a book of the best photographs and had it delivered to the baseball player. There were no words. Not even a title was printed on the cover! Everyone knew who was featured in the photos. It didn’t take much research to find out who had captured the pics.
What no one foresaw, though, was the way in which the photos would imprison the baseball star. He had never bothered to read the newspaper articles written about him. He hadn’t ever seen the famous photos. When he viewed the pictures of his playing, he was mesmerized. Is that how he looked to others?
He removed photos from the book. Framed his favorites. They were placed all over his house. He found it difficult to pass one without stopping to look. Eventually, the baseball player couldn’t leave his home without missing the photos. After a while, he stopped leaving all together.
The once great star didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. He wasted away to nothing. When his friends went to check in on him, they didn’t find a former baseball player. All that was left was a flower; A daffodil.
Did you recognize my modern myth for what it was, a retelling of Narcissus? I wrote this version for my students. I wanted to emphasize the idea of undeserved good fortune, a theme I had overlooked in the past.
More than rivaling a hero, Nemesis is a “balancer of the scales.” I’ve thought that Nemesis was synonymous with antagonist, but she isn’t. I didn’t remember her role in the Narcissus myth, but she was the one who led Narcissus to the pool where he first beheld his reflection. She heard the prayers of the nymph-friends of Echo, who died of unrequited love.
I always focused on Narcissus getting what he deserved, but there is much more to the original story. First of all, his parents had been warned that Narcissus would live long if he never knew himself. I wove that into my tale by having the baseball star’s coach warn against relying too much on good luck and gifts. Talents need to be honed, stretched, developed.
Next, I never recognized the role of Nemesis in the story! She deliberately brings Narcissus to the pool where his downfall takes place. She knows the prophecy. She understands the importance of Narcissus remaining ignorant of his beauty.
It isn’t pay-back, though, that drives her to initiate Narcissus’s learning about his looks. It is a need for balance. Nature was too kind to Narcissus, just as my baseball player was too talented. In my tale, the magazine editor brought balance by making the athlete see the photos that the gifted photographer captured. I hope you recognized the photos for what they were; “Echoes” of the action.
The Captain of Class 