Poesie

Persephone Rising

Joelle Nealy
black and white graphic of persephone goddess

Creative architects always deferred making decisions for as long as they were allowed.”

― John Cleese, Creativity: A Short and Cheerful Guide

Sometimes creative architects (especially ones with a lot of air in their birth charts, not to name names - but me) not only defer decisions, but let the universe (in the form of their FB group) make decisions for them. I invited the universe to help in this way when I asked our Poesie Pod to pick a fall collection theme out of the ones I had in mind. I went into it with some certainty about which one would be the most captivating idea. It involved a rambling Victorian house too perfect to exist anywhere but in our collective unconscious. iykyk. 

But the universe has a penchant for the unexpected, and the reply was a clear “not that one.” Alas, it was “no” to a light-hearted, late-Nineties romp, and “yes” to a journey underground tangled in myth and mystery and the unseemly behavior of Greek gods. The Pod chose Persephone, and Persephone the Pod will have.

My relationship with Greek Myths began in elementary school (stay with me). We were assigned to look up a subject in an encyclopedia (an actual book, with pages and ink!!) and write a short report. I was assigned the ‘G’ volume and tasked with writing a report on giraffes. As an animal lover since birth, this should have been a straightforward assignment. But no, not for me. I started flipping from the back to the front of my given volume, and consequently came across Greek Gods before Giraffes. All semblance of productivity was lost. 

I don’t know if that was when I first read the myth of Persephone, but those glistening red pomegranate seeds have glimmered in my imagination for years. Why do we find this story so fascinating? I’ve been grappling with that question while working on the collection. My feminist core rejects the premise of the myth (as is true of most Greek myths - some, okay most, are truly horrifying). But my Romantic sensibilities (and my love of pomegranates) welcomed the project with open arms (and plenty of ideas). I did the equivalent of pulling an encyclopedia volume off the shelf, and then another, followed by daydreaming and a light snack, followed by more exploring and thinking. You get the idea. 

Persephone has been around since as early as the fourth millennium BCE, so finding a fresh take on her story, in the form of a collection of scents, was a heavily nuanced challenge. The philosopher-king of Ecclesiastes posited that there is nothing new under the sun. Is that true about the underground as well? Specifically, Hades? 

I was intimidated thinking about all the versions and interpretations of Persephone’s story. What do I focus on? How do I create a fragrance that evokes the story, puts my twist on it, and also leaves room for new insights and connections? Instead of letting layers of history and near infinite possibilities halt me in my creative tracks, I chose to start by referencing incense used in the Eleusinian Mysteries. Pomegranate, of course, makes its appearance. That’s all I’ll share for now. I’m curious what guesses y’all might have about what else comes into play. 

The archetypes in the Persephone myth (the comforting earth mother, the eternally youthful maiden, and the brooding and dangerous king of the underworld - spoiler alert about where I decided to focus) can be reinterpreted infinitely; ready to be retold by each generation. So get ready for some familiar notes, as well as a bit of a fresh (hopefully) take on Persephone.  In the meantime, I’d love to hear about what you feel/think about Persephone.