OH, LOVE: The son of a cursed family and a girl with the wrong residence registration
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WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE CURSED
If you were told that an entire family could be cursed, would you agree? In ancient times, no one doubted it. Even a famous family could be considered cursed — take, for example, the renowned Alcmaeonid family. It all began when a certain Cylon, an Olympic champion, made the same mistake as many modern sports stars — he ventured into politics without understanding that success in it requires qualities far removed from athletic prowess.
So, during the festival of Zeus in Olympia, when most Athenians had left the city to celebrate, he persuaded his supporters to seize the Acropolis (not the current one — we’ll get to that) and declare themselves in charge.
Most Athenians disagreed with this, interrupted the festivities, and surrounded the Acropolis so tightly that not even a mouse could slip through. The city’s treasury was indeed stored in the Acropolis, but food, unfortunately, wasn’t, and soon the besieged were faced with an unpleasant choice between starving or surrendering.
They tied a long thread to Athena’s altar to ensure they remained under the goddess’s protection as they went to trial — but the thread snapped! Megacles, the chief enemy of the conspirators, shouted, «Look, the goddess has denied them protection!» and, with his men, attacked Cylon’s followers, killing as many as he could (Cylon himself managed to escape). As a result, Megacles was accused of sacrilege (after all, divine protection couldn’t depend on a mere thread!), and his family became known as the accursed one.
A descendant of this cursed Alcmaeonid family, Pericles, son of Xanthippus, lived as befits a leader in a democratic country — modestly, not drawing much attention to himself. He married as mindlessly as any other Athenian, had two children with her, and was content that she kept quiet and didn’t stand out.
He had enough difficulties as it was — for instance, he bore a striking resemblance to his great-grandfather, the ruler of Athens, Pisistratus, who governed wisely, successfully, and reasonably humanely but was a tyrant who seized power by force, and this was also a cause for criticism.
SENSATION FROM THE PROVINCES
At that time, a woman of extraordinary beauty named Aspasia arrived in Athens from the city of Miletus in Asia Minor. The story goes that she was kidnapped by slave traders as a child and sent to study as a hetaira. She learned so well that a wealthy man bought her freedom for an enormous sum, and from there, her life took off.
She supposedly came to Athens to establish a school of rhetoric — an art not foreign to local hetairas; even their rivals, the lawful wives, would come to listen, hoping to learn something. By the way, was she really a hetaira?
History preserved neither incriminating videos nor damning entries in official documents; Wikipedia notes her profession as «according to a common opinion»… Nevertheless, it seems pretty likely, especially considering that at the time, this wasn’t regarded as shameful — a job is a job, and a well-paid one at that.
In her school of rhetoric, she sometimes made shocking statements that scandalized society — that women should have at least some rights, that a husband should allow his wife to speak her mind, and that the woman’s opinion should be considered when entering into marriage (something some still doubt even today).
This wasn’t quite feminism yet — the most modest feminist of that era would have been dragged off to the priests of Asclepius, the god of healing, amid cries to cure the dangerous lunatic. But the ideas that shocked her contemporaries — that a woman is a person, not an object, that if she disagrees with a man, the response should not be «Shut up!» but «Tell me why you think that», and that women, too, have brains — were clearly expressed by Aspasia, perhaps among the first in the ancient world.
Pericles’ friend Socrates, who was likely convinced that his wife Xanthippe, with her constant complaints, had not been taught properly, persuaded Pericles to go and listen to what was being said in his city.
WANTED AND MARRIED
Pericles was delighted by what he heard — the head rhetorician of the school turned out to be intelligent, cheerful, charming, and full of charisma. She was only 24 years younger, but what’s wrong with that? However, any ancient Greek HR manager, upon seeing Aspasia’s resume, would have been horrified! Not an Athenian citizen but from Miletus — this wasn’t quite like having an Israeli passport in Iran, but almost like being Mexican in the U.S.; she had been enslaved, owned a rather dubious establishment, yikes… Even marrying a subject of the Persian king would have been less dangerous for a Greek politician!
But Pericles wanted her, and who could stop him? He politely asked his wife, «My dear, I’ve found a quite respectable new husband for you. Wouldn’t you like to divorce me and marry him?» A typical Greek wife wouldn’t even understand how to refuse such a request — so his wife, Telesippe, didn’t object.
Half the battle was won. However, the main difficulty lay in the fact that there was no epigamia (right to intermarry) between Miletus and Athens. Hence, his new marriage wasn’t entirely legal. Pericles himself forbade giving Athenian citizenship to the children from this union — after all, citizens were entitled to payments, so why increase the number of those eligible?
Thus, the Athenian law completely ignored Aspasia and Pericles’ children. Nevertheless, he stood his ground, married her, if not officially, then in fact, and loved his wife so much that he was the first in history to start the tradition of kissing his wife before leaving home for his demanding duties. No one had done that before him!
Pericles’ numerous enemies found Aspasia to be a perfect target — through her, they could try to get to him. They dragged her to court, accusing her of corrupting their wives — after all, everyone knew what she used to do! They charged her with blasphemy — claiming she had named her daughters after the Muses, though everyone was doing the same as if they hadn’t noticed. They even accused her of buying beautiful maidservants for her household, supposedly for immoral purposes.
Aspasia couldn’t even defend herself — women were forbidden from appearing in Athenian courts. Pericles barely managed to secure her acquittal — he broke down in tears right in the courtroom, and the judges didn’t dare go against such a respected figure in Athens.
POLITICS AND LOVE
At that time, Pericles was also responsible for building the Parthenon, the magnificent new Acropolis. He was criticized for this as well — he was spending the money of the entire Delian League of city-states, whose treasury was located in Athens, and Pericles managed it as he pleased. People began pressuring him, saying the money was needed for defense against enemies, so why spend it on the Parthenon?
Pericles responded: «Fine, I’ll continue building it with my own money, but I’ll inscribe on every building that it was built by Pericles, not Athens». Everyone immediately agreed to keep the public spending going — understanding that the Parthenon would be glorified for centuries.
None of his opponents’ actions could harm Pericles — primarily because he was a brilliant orator and could convince the Athenians of anything. His opponent Thucydides bitterly remarked that even if they fought and he managed to topple Pericles, Pericles would still claim that he had overthrown his rival, and everyone would believe him.
In the end, Thucydides was subjected to ostracism — a practice where Athenians voted to determine who was a danger to the city and exiled that person for ten years. Their property remained intact, and no accusations were made, but they could only return to Athens in the eleventh year.
Everyone believed that Aspasia’s advice significantly amplified Pericles’ persuasiveness. Her influence was significant, even determining the outcomes of ostracism. Thus, a woman wholly removed from politics had a more substantial impact on it than many people’s leaders (by the way, in Greek, that’s «demagogues», just the way the word sounds).
UNHAPPY ENDING
Those who couldn’t take revenge on Pericles targeted his friends, such as the great sculptor Phidias. He was accused of stealing the gold allocated by the treasury for the robes of the statue of Zeus. Phidias clearly anticipated something like this and had designed the robes so they could be removed and weighed — it turned out that every bit of gold had been used as intended. Then, he was accused of blasphemy, with claims that he had carved the faces of Pericles and himself on the shield of Athena Parthenos.
If you shout enough, people might believe anything — Phidias was imprisoned again, and he soon died there (why it happened so conveniently is an interesting question). Remember, this decision was made entirely democratically by judges elected by the people. Democracy doesn’t guarantee the absence of treachery and foolishness; it’s like comparing a Hummer to an old Lada — it drives better and more comfortably, but if you don’t know how to handle it, you’ll crash even faster.
Pericles achieved everything he wanted — even getting his son by Aspasia registered as a citizen (of course, entirely illegally). Aspasia, despite all her wisdom and caution, didn’t object — she loved her son so much that she couldn’t hear the voice of reason. Meanwhile, things were getting worse — democratic Athens and aristocratic Sparta eventually escalated into a heavy and prolonged war. It was a clash of titans — master shipbuilders and fortification experts against unparalleled infantry.
The Spartans couldn’t capture Athens, but they began ravaging the city’s surroundings. The residents flocked under the protection of the city walls, and the unbearable overcrowding led to an outbreak of plague (which, in reality, was most likely typhoid fever — medical knowledge at the time was very limited). Many Athenians died, including Pericles.
Before his death, as everyone wept and praised him for his great deeds, he managed to say that they weren’t glorifying him for the right reasons — the most important thing, he said, was that no Athenian had ever donned mourning clothes because of him. This was true: Pericles convinced others of his correctness without resorting to executions, torture, or repression.
AFTER PERICLES
But didn’t Pericles have a good life? He united with the woman he loved and legitimized his son — what’s wrong with that? You’ll soon find out. A family curse is like a drug — the most terrifying thing about it is that it knows how to wait. The end of the Athenian-Spartan war was tied to Pericles’ son, but this connection was dreadful!
The Athenian fleet ultimately defeated the Spartans at the Battle of Arginusae — Pericles’ son was one of the commanders. But after the battle, a terrible storm scattered the victorious ships, and they were unable to recover and bury all the dead. Do you know what the Athenians did next? They executed all the victorious commanders, including Pericles’ son, for failing to do what no one could have done.
In a democracy, the people might prevent a leader from making a mad decision, but what can be done when the people themselves make the mad decision? Perhaps just to know that everyone is guilty and that everyone will soon get what they deserve…
The capable commanders were all executed, and the Athenian fleet was now led by incompetents, who disgracefully lost the crucial Battle of Aegospotami to Sparta. They pulled their ships ashore and wandered off to forage and do laundry — and that’s when the Spartan king Lysander quickly captured them and ordered them to drown. Perhaps they deserved it?
Athens would never again be the great city it was under Pericles. Its former glory would help — the Macedonians and then the Romans would spare the city of Pericles and treat it more leniently than was customary in that brutal era… But in the end, Athens would fall so far that a 14th-century traveler would write in his notes with astonishment that the once-glorious city of Athens still, imagine that, existed.
And what happened to Aspasia? She mourned her husband’s death, then remarried a wealthy cattle trader named Lysicles, who was much younger than her. Everyone noted that after their marriage, Lysicles’ political influence rose dramatically, and no one was surprised — Aspasia’s wise counsel had been valuable to her first husband as well.
But Lysicles also died in one of the battles of this senseless war, and Aspasia, along with her son Lysicles, left Athens, disappearing from history. The line of Pericles ended — the curse had struck him, too! It hit all the Athenians as well — for their own folly and cruelty, to remind them to think about what they voted for.
It’s worth remembering this aspect of democracy and asking ourselves if we’ve done everything we can to avoid meeting the same fate again.
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