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PROTECTRESS, a novella in verse, is a modern-day sequel to the Medusa myth, in which Medusa and her sisters have lived into the present and must contend with Athena, who, raised in the toxic masculinity of Olympus, is trying to slut-shame and victim-blame Medusa for having been raped by Poseidon in Athena’s temple. But the gorgons aren’t having any of it, and they’re not alone–a host of women from Greek myth come to their aid. There’s also a very good boi dragon, Ladon.
Here’s a sample. The gorgons have left their everyday lives in the US and France and returned to their original home, a sea-cave in Greece. They’re trying to figure out how to stop Athena’s campaign against Medusa, which includes trying to drive Medusa mad. They realize they can’t do it alone, so they’ve invited friends to a brainstorming party. Here’s everyone arriving to the party.
Three sisters arrive first, these oft-tricked by hubristic men, daughters of Nyx who give off, paradoxically and resplendently, great banners of light. The Hesperides are glad to leave their little garden, where they must spend their days tending apples of immortality, playing with an easily-bored dragon, and currying favor with Hera. Indeed, Hera accompanies them, followed by the puppy-like Ladon, who cavorts and tumbles and leans on everyone’s legs, begging for attention and petting behind his great floppy scaly ears. I thought you were running some kind of hearth-home bullshit group, Hera, says Euryale. The goddess sighs deeply and the corner of her mouth twitches unhappily. I changed my mind, she says. The nymphs invited me, I can go if you don’t— no, says Euryale, but what are you doing here, now? I— she closes her eyes and puts up her hands defensively— I do other things, now. I— I teach self-defense and anti-harassment training and— Hera! says Stheno putting her arm around the shorter woman. Euryale, did you know that Hera’s foundation paid for the processing of six thousand rape kits last year? A round-faced woman pops up on the other side of Hera. Io! says Stheno, I heard you two were working together, waggling her fingers at the two women: Zeus be damned, am I right? Euryale’s eyebrows assume heights unknown to mortals and her beautiful mouth falls ever so slightly open. Let me get you some drinks, says Stheno, who has already had a few herself, relaxing and not having to be forgettable for the first time in many years. More trios and triads arrive: Thriae, Naxians, Mysians, Asterionides. Quartets and quintets and solo travelers: hamadryads and naiads, happy maenads bringing boxes of wine and skins of ouzo. Ladon is the favored guest until at last he stretches out, scales on stone, and sleeps, his long whiskers gently rising and settling like the sun.
