Suicidal Sailors and Me

The Sirens and Ulysses by William Etty (1837)

“There is a great heap of bones of mouldering men, and round the bones the skin shrivels and rots.”

The Odyssey, Book 12 (45-46)

Today I learned two things:

1) The Sirens of Ancient Greek mythology were never described as physically seductive. They were described as bird-like creatures with female heads who lured sailors to their death with hypnotic songs.

It wasn’t until the Renaissance, and especially during Romanticism, that Sirens began to be depicted as they are in the painting above.

2) The sailors who leapt to their death in pursuit of the Sirens’ songs could see the rotting corpses of other sailors who did the same.

What idiots!

They leapt to their deaths, willingly, and she wasn’t even hot.

That’s almost as absurd as feeling full and continuing to eat, even though you know your stomach will hate you later.

Or drinking past your limit, knowing that the next morning will bring a disabling headache.

Or smoking, knowing that you’re blackening your lungs.

Or dating, knowing that it’ll end up horribly for both of you.

Or doomscrolling, knowing that you won’t retain a single piece of information and will hate yourself afterward (and during) for wasting time.

So maybe the sailors aren’t idiots. Maybe the sailors are me. I’m the idiot, continuing to do the one thing that no other animal besides humans do: act against my own nature.

That’s my thought today, but since you’ve stuck around, I’ll share one more.

The sailors didn’t rationalize their suicide by thinking it was a fair price to pay to hear the sweet songs. They rationalized it by thinking they wouldn’t be counted among the rotting corpses.

I know self-sabotage leads everyone to misery and eventually destruction, but I’ll do it anyway because I’m the one exception.

That’s exactly what those idiotic, decaying sailors said to themselves. Trust me, I know. I’m a sailor too.

Odysseus and the Sirens by John William Waterhouse (1891)