
Image: Subject and photographer unknown.


Even in the modern imagination of comic books we find a male couple with the characteristics of this coniunctio, this union in flight: Batman/Bruce Wayne and Robin/Dick Grayson (Winick 1992). Creatures of the air flutter about in their very names, and the allusion to the penis (robin, pecker, dick) is, I venture to say, not mere happenstance. Indeed, in his attack against comic books entitled The Seduction of the Innocent, psychiatrist Frederic Wertham denounces the friendship between Batman and Robin as too reminiscent of “a Zeus-Ganymede type of love relationship . . . the wish-dream of two homosexuals,” and to this condemnatory end, he adduces the following “proofs” for this thesis: they are two unmarried men living together in a house filled with flowers; they are served by a butler, Alfred; they care a great deal for one another and are often drawn sitting close together, dressed informally, their hands or arms touching. “Only someone ignorant of the fundamentals of psychiatry and of the psychopathology of sex can fail to realize the subtle atmosphere of homoerotism which pervades the adventures of the mature Batman and his young friend Robin” (Wertham 1954, p. 190).
. . . What is salient in all these myths about the origin of male homosexuality is the initiatory function such relationships serve. “Initiation myths” is the term used by scholars to refer to myths concerning “rituals which guarantee a successful passage from a ‘tender’ age group to a later and more manly age, with all its attendant powers and pleasures” (Dumezil 1984, p. vii). The aim of same-sex initiation” is to provide a space, gap, break, or transition between the feminine world of mother and the masculine world of father in the course of a young boy’s psychic development, an act of transition from youth to maturity that has had a central place in many cultures for a very long time. Ethnological studies conducted throughout this century have revealed the existence of initiatory institutions very different from the current models of initiation in Western civilization – namely, the existence of socially obligatory homosexual relationships between a teacher and his initiates.

The following is excerpted from a commentary in DNA magazine by Andrew Creagh.
Men who find other men sexy are, I think, a lot more straightforward. Just look at DNA’s daily blog to see whose pics get the most hits. They’re guys whose masculinity is up-front – hairy chests and bulging swimwear; men who confidently project their sexuality, whatever that may be.
Ideals of physical attraction do change. Looking at photography from 100 years ago, when muscle men were commonly used as models, we can assume that the ideal was all about muscle definition in the arms. The Adonis of that age cared little for the washboard abs or fleshy pecs that we adore today.
If there’s a defining trend by today’s standards it’s hard to identify. Contemporary ideas of masculinity, maleness and attractiveness are a jumble of shaved legs, steroid abuse, Photoshop disasters and misguided art direction!
Animal and birds inspire Harriet’s work, an interest developed from an early age due to the influence of her late father, Chris Mead, a well known author and broadcaster. His passion for birds gave Harriet an appreciation of the natural beauty of animals and birds.
Most of Harriet’s sculptures use welded steel, a material of versatile strength that enables her to capture movement in the subject, and balance pieces in a way nearly impossible using a more traditional material. Harriet captures the essence of the animal without sentimentality, and uses the steel in a sympathetic way to outline strength and muscle. She seeks to capture something of the quiet presence of the animal and not necessarily the drama.
The Zeus-Ganymede relationship served as a model for many famous love stories in the ancient world, such as the love between the emperor Hadrian and his Greek eromenos Antinoos [or Antinous]. These two met in Bithynia, the younger man’s native country, around 123 B.C. . . . Hadrian abducted the boy and was devoted to him for the rest of his life. Inseparable companions, they always traveled together, and together took part in the Eleusinian mysteries.
Consequently, the process of Antinoo’s divinization began while the young man was still alive and reached its apotheosis after the younger man’s mysterious death by drowning in the Nile.
Like Ganymede, Antinoos for centuries stood as a symbol of same-sex love, and also as a platonic ideal of spiritual love. Like Ganymede, Antinoos was transformed into a star: wanting his lover to be remembered for all eternity, Hadrian named a constellation after him. In the Almagest, Ptolemy’s first great compendium of Greek astronomy, the stars of Antinoos are mentioned as part of the Aqila (Eagle) group; in various ancient maps of the heavens. 


Zeus took only one male lover: Ganymede. As soon as Zeus saw him, the god of thunder fell in love, and assuming the shape of an eagle, he flew down from heaven to Mount Ida and took the boy, the beautiful son of King Tros, to Olympus, where he was welcomed among the gods. There he was granted the position of cupbearer, replacing Hebe and making Hera jealous.
According to Theognis of Megara, the myth of Ganymede acquainted men with the joys of loving a young man. Pinder, in the first Olympic Ode, compares the love of Zeus for Ganymede to another divine homosexual love, that of Poseidon for Pelops, son of Tantalas who was loved and abducted by the god who then became his master and erastes. Both these myths illustrate the initiatory model found in ancient warrior societies, where the abduction of an initiate symbolizes his death, to be followed by a period of time in the andreion (house of men) for homosexual instruction, after which the young man emerges from the andreion, symbolically resurrected. A similar fate awaited Pelop’s son, Chrysippus, who was abducted by the legendary king of Thebes, Laius, Jocasta’s husband and Oedipus’s father, considered the founder of the Theban homosexual warrior tradition.
As celebrated by Callimachus, Alceus, & Melagrus, Zeus’s love for Ganymede was the ancient myth told to account for the origin of homosexuality, and, as such, since that time, has been alternatively honored and reviled. Giambattista Vico did the latter, characterizing Zeus as burning “with iniquitous love for Ganymede,” as did Friedrich Engels who described the ancient Greeks as a people who “sank into the perversion of boy-love, degrading themselves and their gods by the myth of Ganymede.
However, poets have kept alive the shining memory of Ganymede throughout the ages. Hölderlin depicted the sleeping “son of the mountain” in a natural setting, and Verlaine saw him in a country boy who kept the poet company and distracted him from his boredom. Saba sang of the dream of a teenage shepherd, camouflaging the wisdom of his infantile stupor in an aulic literary style. . . .
Zeus and Ganymede as a couple are an image of the coniunctio oppositorum, opposite psychic polarities brought together into a state of balanced tension. In this couple, e became acquainted with the erotic, though not necessarily sexual, valence of the puer-et-senex constellation that so frequently runs through relationships, such as Heracles who is taken to heaven and promoted to the stats of a god following his death or Hyacinth, the extremely handsome mortal youth whom Apollo, protector of boys, fell in love with and made divine, a story likewise used to explain the origins of love between men. Mythic parallels appear in other cultural contexts, among the ancient Germanic people, as well as the people of Melanesia, New Guinea, and medieval Japan. These common motifs of heavenly abduction, mystical flight, and eagles as spirit-animals regularly appear in the dreams, stories, and the legends of shamanic initiation throughout the world.