Leda and the Swan

Today I took the train into Paris and went to the Louvre. The museum is a bit like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in that you might need a good month, or two, to explore the whole museum. It feels almost like a city within a city. Usually, to avoid becoming overwhelmed, I choose a specific section of a museum to explore. In New York, I always loved the pyramid room at the Met. No matter how crowded it got, the wide open space, with light streaming in, and the sound of water and footsteps on linoleum always had a lulling effect on me. Often I would go and sit for an hour or so, reading, writing or people-watching.

I haven’t quite found my favorite place in the Louvre yet, but today, I was struck by a sculpture called “Leda and the Swan” by Jean Thierry.

The subject matter is a popular one. Taken from Greek Mythology, it is the story of Zeus (or Jupiter in Roman mythology) falling in lust with the Leda, a mortal Queen. To seduce her, he turns himself into a swan and approaches her as she bathes in a river.Here is Thierry’s sculpture that was done in 1717: 

 

Jean THIERRY (1669-1739)Leda and the Swan1717

© Musée du Louvre/P. Philibert 

Leda’s image has been depicted by several painters from the Italian Renaissance era, including Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Correggio. The story has also served as the subject of a poem by Yeats, which is below:

Leda and the Swan by William Butler Yeats

 A sudden blow: the great wings beating still

    Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed

    By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,

    He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.

    How can those terrified vague fingers push

    The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?

    And how can body, laid in that white rush,

    But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?

    A shudder in the loins engenders there

    The broken wall, the burning roof and tower[20]

    And Agamemnon dead.

                        Being so caught up,

    So mastered by the brute blood of the air,

    Did she put on his knowledge with his power

    Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

Source: http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/865/ 

What I found interesting about the poem and the sculpture is how different the mood of one is from the other. When I looked up other paintings of Leda and the Swan, many of them were graceful and relaxed, whereas Thierry’s depiction of the scene is livelier. The Louvre website describes the swan enveloping Leda with its wings, “its webbed foot on her left thigh; she is turning to the swan, her right hand on its shoulder, her left caressing its neck. The protagonists are gazing into each other's eyes with obvious desire. The spiraling forms intertwine in a swirling shape that confers a multitude of viewpoints to the group. The sculptor played with textures too, using the ridges on the swan's feathers, Leda's braided hair, and the grooves on the plinth, to highlight the smooth sheen of the queen's body.”     

Yeats, on the other hand, describes a violent rape scene. At the start, Leda is dealt “a sudden blow” and she “staggers”, “helpless”, with “terrified vague fingers” trying to push the god away. Ultimately, she is “mastered by the brute blood of the air” and Zeus lets her drop with a suddenly “indifferent beak”.

Having written the poem as a sonnet, Yeats’ strict meter and rhyme scheme serve as a sharp contrast to the utter lack of control that Leda has in the poem. Further, it veers away from the topic of love, which often a traditional theme of a sonnet. 

The other way in which this differs from a traditional sonnet is the spacing and line breaks, specifically in the last seven lines when there is a shift from a description of the scene, to “the burning roof and tower / and Agamemnon dead” which foreshadows what will happen as a result of the affair.

Yeats gives “Being so caught up” its own indented line which is then followed by the question: “did she put on his knowledge with his power / Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?”

While I have always liked Yeats’ poem, it was hard not to be captivated by Thierry’s pure, white sculpture that almost convinced me that Leda and the Swan were truly in love. As I left the Louvre in search of a cup of coffee, it was hard to forget Leda’s face as she gazed adoringly at the swan, one arm outstretched.

For a more light-hearted take on the myth, The Sun has an excerpt from a short story written by a former MFA student who also takes on the subject. Here is an excerpt that is worth reading.