Fairy Tales

Why I Threw an Apple

by Mary Soon LeeOctober 25, 2021

The simplistic answer is because I was, rightly, irritated that they didn't invite me to the wedding. Hence I threw the golden apple to cause trouble. And kindly note my superlative success. The resulting squabble between those three stuck-up bitches, Athena, Aphrodite, and Queen bloody Hera, escalated delightfully into a decade-long war. Ah, Troy--those sweet, sweet years, and Paris, that sweet, sweet youth, a morsel as pretty as Helen.

Anyway, yes, I threw the apple to cause trouble, but why an apple? Why not a fig? Or a pomegranate? Or an emerald greener than spring grass etched with the words, te kalliste, for the fairest, fateful and precious?

My reasons were threefold. First, I had one to hand, having earlier purloined it from Hera's tree. Second, being from Hera's tree, I judged it would doubly provoke her. Third, the Moirai will have their way.

The Moirai? Fate's three ancient handmaidens, they who spin destiny with every twitch of their gnarled fingers.

Mount Olympus is not what it once was, the gods demoted to fairy tale. But, acknowledged or not, the Moirai still rule us. And they have never cared for apples.

You doubt me? Consider the tale of Eve and the unspecified forbidden fruit with which she tempted Adam. With a thread shifted here, a snip there, the three Moirai wove the ambiguous Hebraic fruit into its popular depiction as an apple.

Or Isaac Newton, watching the apple fall, what he made of that. Some say he ushered in the Enlightenment. Enlightenment! As if its fruits were all benign.

Or, more recently, take Snow White. Now there's a tale one could unpick: racism, the symbolism of dwarves, the issue of consent. And what does the villainous queen use to poison Snow White? An apple.

So, like many another before me, I plead that the deterministic tyranny of the Moirai was ultimately to blame.

Had they shifted the threads just a little, had sweet Paris sought me out, had he spared me even one admiring, long-lashed, golden look, then matters might have taken quite a different turn.

About Mary Soon Lee

Mary Soon Lee was born and raised in London, but now lives in Pittsburgh. Her short stories have appeared in Analog, F&SF;, Interzone, Lightspeed, and several Year's Best anthologies. She has won the Elgin Award and the Rhysling Award for her poetry, and, in August 2017, had 119 haiku in Science, one for each element of the periodic table. She has an antiquated website at marysoonlee.com.

http://www.marysoonlee.com/

All stories by Mary Soon Lee →

More from Mary Soon Lee

Dragons and Drabbles

They say dragons despise drabbles, deeming a hundred words a derisory allotment to tell any tale worth the telling. Hardly surprising. You have the advantage of time. Centuries upon centuries, coiled on the cold coin of your hoards. We dragonhunters don't have time to waste. You…

Rocking Chair

Don't get up, little sister. Please. Please don't stop rocking. I can only talk by the creaks. That's part of the curse. What curse? The one from our nurserymaid, silly. The new one with funny pink hair. I could've been a frog, if I hadn't stomped my foot when she said she'd…

Tea and Bamboo

My father has become panda, my mother elephant. They are altogether out of place in my living room, for all my mother tries to look at ease, gripping a tea bowl in her trunk. It's their third visit since they were uploaded. "Would you care for mung bean cake or more bamboo?" I…

On the Disappearance of Dragons

There are numerous conflicting theories concerning the disappearance of dragons. These range from the drab (dragons never existed in the first place), to the staggeringly improbable (they constructed a time machine), to the romantic (the many variant explanations that dragons…

Paw and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single human in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a cat. However little known the feelings of views of such a human may be on their first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the feline…

Preface to "Monster Hunter"

I was five years old when I met the monster under my bed. First I heard a muffled shuffling, like the noise the neighbor's dog made turning in a tight tail-chasing circle before he settled down for a nap. But we didn't have a dog. I clutched my stuffed rabbit, Sister Resistance,…