It is amazing to think that this was once just a chunk of marble. What is now an intricate bust used to be nothing of value. What begins as chiseled wavy hair becomes winding snakes, glaring at the viewer, ready to strike. They curl around each other, looking every direction. The snakes guard their owner. They watch as you move and seemingly resent and distrust you, man or woman, it makes no difference. They remember why they are on her head. They were intended to be publishers of the owner, but now they seem to have become protectors. They remember the betrayal. Not only one but two. Twice the owner was betrayed. First by man, then by her god. The world has turned its back on their owner, but they refuse to.
The snakes on her head display anger, but her face does not. Yes her face shows betrayal, but it shows the sadness, the lack of understanding, and worst the helplessness. She is no longer a sculpture, but a person. She is not a monster, as myths have tolds us, but a traumatized woman. A man rapes her in Athena's temple and she is punished for it. That does not make sense. It is a double betrayal. The confusion is visible on her face. I half expected her to look at me and ask why this happened. She looks as if she is about to burst into frustrated tears.
There is no anger on her face. Eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth is slightly open. Head slightly looking to the left. Eyes slightly squinting ready to cry. This is the face of realization. Realization that she will be alone forever. If she looks at another person they will turn to stone. She will never be treated as a human again. She will be hunted and persecuted. Deemed a monster and forced from society. This is the worst punishment possible. She is doomed to be a monster. But this is not the face of a monster. It is the face of a scared girl betrayed by those who were supposed to protect her. One busy tells this whole story. It is beautiful and heart wrenching. No price of art has ever moved me as much as Bernini's Medusa.
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